The central army tent.
Duncan glanced at the elite guards by the entrance. Perhaps it was his imagination, but these people seemed reluctant to be alone with him. Even during the private discussion with Prince Torismund of the Western Goths, several noble knights accompanied him to bolster their presence.
Inside the tent, candles were lit, mingling the smell of wax and spices, with an intentionally masked scent of alcohol.
Aetius must have drunk last night, and quite a lot at that.
The renowned Protector of the Realm gazed at Duncan, his expression slightly dazed, as if awed by the heroic air about Duncan, and remarked contemplatively, "When I was your age, I was a hostage under the Huns’ king."
After all, he was over sixty years old now, with not much time left. The ’Twilight of the Empire’ was fading, and it could be said that the last bit of the Empire’s vitality was nearly exhausted.
Duncan’s gaze was calm as he responded lightly, "Is that when Lord Aetius met Attila?"
This answer slightly startled Aetius. He stared into Duncan’s eyes and saw a trace of unwillingness, a look he was all too familiar with. After convincing Prince Torismund to leave, there was a noticeable unwillingness in everyone, whether Barbarian chieftains or Roman officers.
Yet he had his reasons. Without Attila suppressing the Germanic tribes, the Empire’s territory would be increasingly fragmented.
What’s more, deep down, he did not wish for Attila to die here.
After all, they had been friends for decades.
Aetius slowly sat down, seeming to age all at once. He shook his head and sighed, "Yes." ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮•𝘯𝘦𝘵
"I joined the army at the age of eight, becoming the youngest warrior in the legion."
"I followed my father on various campaigns."
Aetius seemed to fall into his memories, his voice hoarse as he recounted, "The Empire’s situation was tough at the time. Alaric, the leader of the Western Goths, led the Barbarian army in a direct march. My father maneuvered laboriously and, to gain the chieftain’s trust, sent me as a hostage to the Barbarians."
"Later, as the Huns’ power rose, my father sent me as a hostage to the Huns’ king."
"It was then that I met the Huns’ king’s nephew, Attila."
Duncan understood just how arduous the youth of this Roman Protectorate was—first a hostage among the Barbarian tribes, then among the Huns. His father was truly ruthless.
Aetius didn’t mind recounting some old stories. He looked at Duncan and said, "At the age of thirty-four, amidst internal chaos within the Empire, I seized the opportunity to borrow sixty thousand troops from the Huns and returned with the army to Rome."
"However, the general I supported lost quickly. After his death, I could only rely on the Huns’ army at my command to pressure the Emperor and Regent Empress Praxidica into reconciliation, securing the position of cavalry governor of the Gaul Province."
An aura of a hero swirled around him, and Aetius’ eyes grew sharp.
To play the role of a hostage to such an extent, borrowing tens of thousands of troops from the Huns, was indeed remarkable.
"Later, using the Huns’ power, I defeated the Western Goths."
"I repelled the Germanic invasion in Noricum."
"Regent Empress Praxidica wanted to eliminate me, so I rebelled against Boniface, whom they supported, leading to a battle near Rimini."
"Boniface won but was severely wounded and died a month later."
"I fled to Sarmatia, and with Attila’s help, forced Praxidica to restore my authority, becoming the commander of the Western Empire."
Aetius smiled, a mix of boldness and bitterness. He looked at Duncan, speaking solemnly, "Back then, many called me a ’Huns’ Lapdog.’"
"They wanted to get rid of me!"
"Some thought I would seize power to become king, others that I would betray the Empire to please the Huns’ masters."
"But more than ten years later, they called me a ’Hero of the Romans.’"
A life of battles and glory.
Aetius maneuvered among various forces, and with the Empire’s situation beyond remedy, used external help to stabilize the declining and falling Empire.
All the doubts and criticisms of the past turned into reverence, making Aetius the de facto supreme commander of the Empire.
A hero in his twilight years.
Duncan studied the elderly Aetius and slowly said, "Indeed, the Protector of the Realm has been loyal to the nation throughout his life, with notable achievements."
This indeed couldn’t be denied.
The Empire’s last glow was all upon him, as if a single person upheld the fortune of the Western Empire.
He used military strategies and tactics to divide the barbarian tribes, gradually pacified the borders, and restored the Western Empire’s prestige in Gaul and Spain. He diplomatically established a peace agreement with the Vandals’ leaders for mutual non-aggression, maintaining peace in Italy, the heart of the Empire, and then used force to defeat the Franks and Suebi, compelling them to ally with the Western Empire as crucial allies and aides.
He fought at the frontiers, soothed the Barbarian tribes, dealt with the Huns, dedicating his life tirelessly. Now, to part ways from Attila at this critical moment, who could doubt his loyalty to the Empire?
But none of these were the reasons to let Attila go.
Aetius gazed at Duncan, slowly stood, turning his back as he spoke in a deep voice, "You are the most talented Roman I’ve ever seen."
"My son is inadequate."