"Okay, men. The next village is an hour's walk away - we raid at dawn. Whatever happens, remember: we're on a mission to end the threat the village poses to our people. This is a mission, if I may coin a phrase, of preemptive defense!"
The Huns sitting around the fire looked at each other, not certain what to make of Attila's statement. Sensing their unease, Attila questioningly growled, "What?"
"Well, Attie," Ulrick, a senior general in Attila's army, meekly offered, "it's your position that we're defending ourselves from a vicious enemy. Me and the boys, well, we find that position a little...worrisome."
"Worrisome?" Attila thoughtfully growled.
"With respect," Ulrick, looking at the ground, continued, "we are the mightiest fighting force the world has ever known." The men around the campfire gave a mighty roar. "We've already sacked the village three times in the past 10 years, and we know they have no food or materials left, let alone weapons of destruction."
"I say they do," Attila argumentatively growled.
"And, we all feel certain that you are right and that we will find such weapons," Ulrick quickly responded. "However, not to put too fine a point on it, and knowing that you can, of course, have a different opinion -"
"Yes?" Attila impatiently growled.
"Well, it's just that if we call this raid defensive when our opponent is so weak, we're worried that we will look weak ourselves." Seeing the storm clouds of anger move across Attila's face, Ulrick quickly added: "Not that we are weak, you understand. Strongest fighting force the world has ever known and all that. It's just that it will make us look as though we were weak."
"I see," Attila quietly growled. The men around the fire held their breaths, wondering if any of them would survive the night to do battle. There were many sighs of relief when Attila broke into almost a smile. "There is much merit in what you say," he conversationally growled. "Let us reconceive tomorrow's battle as being fought because the village has supported our bitterest enemies."
Ulrick's face fell. "Does anybody else want to take this one?" he asked.
The men hemmed and hawed, but eventually Balter stepped up to say: "Attila - Attie. We've slain all the village elders, and we now believe it is run by a whiny 14 year-old boy with a perpetually runny nose. He couldn't negotiate a later bedtime with his parents, much less a pact with the elders of another village. Add to that the already accepted fact that the village has no weapons to offer an ally, and it seems highly unlikely that it can in any way aid our enemies."
Attila's eyes narrowed; a dozen hands inched towards their swords in a heroic, if futile gesture of self-preservation. With a sigh, Attila's frown smoothed, and the men around the fire stepped down from their orange alert status. "How about this?" Attila tentatively growled. "We've actually come to raid the village in an effort to rid it of an evil tyrant. The entire world will be safer once this lunatic is no longer in power."
The men around the campfire shook their heads with varying degrees of vigour. "Oh, why not?" Attila poutingly growled.
"Well," Balter brazenly asserted, "young runny nose doesn't appear to be a threat to anybody. Besides, you're the most evil tyrant in the world right now. If you really wanted to make the world safer, you would kill yourself this instant!" The men laughed and added their agreement.
Attila nodded thoughtfully. "I can't argue with that," he generously growled. "Still, how should we frame tomorrow's raid if those reasons don't hold up?"
The men looked at each other for a few moments. Then, somebody in the back said, "Plunder." "Oh, yes, definitely plunder," another added. Soon, everybody was saying, "Plunder." "Plunder." and "Looting, raping and pillaging - don't forget them."
"You see, Attie" Ulrick summed up, "we don't need any fancy rationalizations for tomorrow's raid. Looting and plundering are their own reward."
"Thank you," Attila graciously growled, then cut all their heads off and had them put on sticks. After all, it wouldn't do for the most fearsome leader of his day to have his orders questioned by underlings and, in any case, if Attila understood anything, he understood that terror was its own reward.