the imperial envoys; but he condescended to promise that he would
advance as far as Sardica to receive any ministers who had been invested
with the consular dignity. The council of Theodosius eluded this
proposal, by representing the desolate and ruined condition of Sardica,
and even ventured to insinuate that every officer of the army or
household was qualified to treat with the most powerful princes of
Scythia. Maximin, a respectable courtier, whose abilities had been long
exercised in civil and military employments, accepted, with reluctance,
the troublesome, and perhaps dangerous, commission of reconciling the
angry spirit of the King of the Huns.

His friend, the historian Priscus, embraced the opportunity of observing
the Barbarian hero in the peaceful and domestic scenes of life: but the
secret of the embassy, a fatal and guilty secret, was intrusted only to
the interpreter Vigilius. The two last ambassadors of the Huns, Orestes,
a noble subject of the Pannonian province, and Edecon, a valiant
chieftain of the tribe of the Scyrri, returned at the same time from
Constantinople to the royal camp. Their obscure names were afterward
illustrated by the extraordinary fortune and the contrast of their sons:
the two servants of Attila became the fathers of the last Roman Emperor
of the West, and of the first Barbarian King of Italy.

The ambassadors, who were followed by a numerous train of men and
horses, made their first halt at Sardica, at the distance of three
hundred and fifty miles, or thirteen days' journey, from Constantinople.
As the remains of Sardica were still included within the limits of the
Empire, it was incumbent on the Romans to exercise the duties of
hospitality. They provided, with the assistance of the provincials, a
sufficient number of sheep and oxen, and invited the Huns to a splendid,
or, at least, a plentiful supper. But the harmony of the entertainment