Envoy Extraordinary

"Accidents happen. Only the other day a plank missed me by inches. We are still alive."

The captain saluted.

"With your permission, lord."

He leapt back aboard the trireme. Mamillius turned a streaming face to Phanocles.

"Why have I enemies? I wish I were dead."

All at once it seemed to him that nothing was safe or certain but the mysterious beauty of Euphrosyne

"Phanocles-give me. your sister."

Phanocles took his hands from his face.

"We are free people, lord."

"I mean, to marry her."

Phanocles cried out in his thick voice.

"This is too much! A plank, a crab-and now this--!" Hell closed in on Mamillius, haze-white and roaring. Somewhere in the sky the thunder grumbled.

"I cannot bear life without her."

Phanocles muttered, his eyes on Talos.

"You have not even seen her face. And you are grandson to the Emperor."

"He will do anything I want."

Phanocles glanced sideways at him, savagely.

"How old are you, lord? Is it eighteen or seventeen?"

"I am a man."

Phanocles made a pattern of his face that was intended for a sneer.

"Officially."

Mamillius set his teeth.

"I am sorry for my tears. I have been shaken."

He hiccuped loudly.

"Am I forgiven?"

Phanocles looked him over.

"What do you want with my forgiveness?"

"Euphrosyne."

All at once Mamillius was trembling again. Beautiful shoots of life sprouted in him. But Phanocles was frowning.

"I cannot, explain, lord."

"Say no more now. We shall speak to the Emperor. He will persuade you."

There came the crash of a salute from the mouth of the tunnel.

The Emperor was walking briskly for his age. His crier went before him.

"Way for the Emperor!"

There was a guard and several veiled women with him. Mamillius began to rush round the deck in a panic, but the women detached themselves from the group of Men and ranged themselves by the harbour wall. Phanocles shaded his eyes.

"He has brought her to watch the demonstration."

The captain of the trireme was hurrying along by the Emperor, explaining as he went, and the Emperor was nodding his silver head pensively. He mounted the gangway to the trireme, crossed her deck and looked down at the strange ship before him. Even in these surroundings his spare figure in the white, purple-fringed toga cut a shape of clean distinction. He declined a helping hand and stepped down to Amphitrite's deck.

"Don't try to tell me about the crab, Mamillius. The captain has told me all about it. I congratulate you on your escape. You too, Phanocles, of course. We shall have to abandon the demonstration."

"Caesar!"

"You see, Phanocles, I shall not be at the villa this evening. 1 will examine your pressure cooker another time."

Phanocles' mouth was open again.

"In fact," said the Emperor agreeably, "we shall be at sea in Amphitrite."

"Caesar."

"Stay with me, Mamillius. I have news for you."

He paused and cocked his ear critically at the harbour noises.

"I am not popular."

Mamillius shook again.

"Neither am I. They tried to kill me."

The Emperor smiled grimly.

"It was not the slaves, Mamillius. I have received a report from Illyria."

A look of appalled understanding appeared beneath the mud on Mamillius' face.

"Posthumus?"

"He has broken off his campaign. He has concentrated his army on the seaport and is stripping the coast of every ship from triremes to fishing boats. "

Mamillius made a quick and aimless step that nearly took him into the arms of Talos.

"He is tired of heroics."

The Emperor came close and laid a finger delicately on his grandson's sodden tunic.

"No, Mamillius. He has heard that the Emperor's grandson is becoming interested in ships and weapons of war. He fears your influence and he is a realist. Perhaps our unfortunate conversation on the loggia reached the ears of the ill-disposed. We dare not waste a moment."

He turned to Phanocles.

"You will have to share our council. How fast can Amphitrite take us to Illyria?"

"Twice as fast as your triremes, Caesar."

"Mamillius, we are going together. I to convince him that 1 am still Emperor, you to convince him that you do not want to be one."

"But that will be dangerous!"

'Would you sooner stay and have your throat cut?

I do not think Posthumus would allow you to commit suicide."

"And you?"

"Thank you, Mamillius. Amid all my worries I am touched. Let us start."

Phanocles pressed his fists to his forehead. The Emperor nodded to the quay and a procession of slaves began to cross the trireme with luggage. A little Syrian came hurrying from aft. He spoke quickly to Mamillius.

"Lord, it is impossible. There is nowhere for the Emperor to sleep. And look at the sky!"

There was no longer any blue to be seen. The sun was dispersed into a great patch of light that might soon he hidden completely.

"-and how am I to hold a course, lord, when I can no longer see the sky and there is no wind?"

"It is an order. Grandfather, let us get ashore for a moment at least."

"Why?"

"She is so dirty--"

"So are you, Mamillius. You stink."

The Syrian sidled up to the Emperor.