Envoy Extraordinary

Aboard Amphitrite they had noticed the warship too. The Emperor saw Phanocles and the captain gesticulating fiercely at each other. Phanocles ducked down the hatch, the jet of steam vanished and the paddles began to move. Immediately the captain ran along the deck, there was a flash of steel and Amphitrite's anchor thumped into the water. But the drums were beating out another order. The oars of the warship rose and were rigid like spread wings. She glided forward with the last of her momentum like a vast and settling seabird. Her ram took Amphitrite under the starboard paddle and tore it. Men were swarming along the horizontal, oars, leaping down, striking with sword hilts and the butts of spears. The growl of the harbour rose to a frantic cheer. Phanocles and the captain were hauled up between the oars and dumped on the warship's deck. Her oars began to move again so that the ram slid out of the torn wheel. Amphitrite, her wheels .turning very slowly, began to revolve round her own anchor. The warship, starboard oars paddling ahead, port astern, was moving towards the quay where the trireme and the Emperor was.

The Emperor sat, pulling on his underlip. There were - more moving cliffs outside the harbour, warships backing and filling, waiting to come in. There was another blink of light and clap of thunder but this time the Emperor did not notice it. Mamillius was standing on the quay by the barge in the attitude of one arrested at a moment of extreme haste. The Emperor, glancing sideways, was transfixed also.

Mamillius was dressed in armour. His breastplate flashed from a multitudinous and highly allegorical assembly of heroes and centaurs. A scarlet cloak dropped down his back to his heels. The red leather of his sword scabbard matched exactly the red leather openwork of the boots that reached nearly to his knees. The breastplate was matched in material and complexity by the brass helmet that he carried under his left arm.

The Emperor closed his eyes for a moment and spoke faintly.

"Bellona's bridegroom."

Mamillius seemed to collapse a little. He blushed.

"I thought-as we were going to the army-"

The Emperor surveyed the details of the uniform.

"I see that both Troy and Carthage have fallen."

The blush came and went, came again with a profuse perspiration.

"Do you know whose warship these are?"

The Emperor rested his forehead on one hand.

"In the circumstances, a distaff would have been less open to misconstruction."

Always Mamillius kept the wall of his cloak between him and the women. He saw the gold and scarlet banner shake as the warship came alongside the trireme. Her ram lay alongside the barge. This time the colour left his face and did not return.

"What shall we do?"

"There is no time to do anything. Perhaps you might put your helmet on."

"It gives me a headache."

"Diplomacy," said the Emperor. "He has the soldiers-look at them! But we have the intelligence. It will be hard if we cannot smooth things over."

"What about me?"

"On the whole, 1 think you would be safer in China. "

The Emperor took Mamillius' hand and stepped ashore. He walked along the quay towards the warship with Mamillius at his heels. The crowd from her deck had flooded the trireme and was flowing across the quay so that the end by the harbour entrance was jammed full. There were prisoners, the abject and supplicating Syrian, slaves. Phanocles wearing an even wilder air of short-sighted bewilderment and soldiers, far too many soldiers. They bore huge bundles and bags that made them look as though they were about to contribute to a gigantic jumble sale. They were tricked out in favours of red and yellow. The loot of a countryside was suspended about them but they came to attention under their loads when they saw the purple fringe on the white toga. The Emperor stopped by the gangway and waited. Behind him the women were crouched by the harbour wall, veiled and terrified like a chorus of Trojan Women. Someone blew a large brass instrument on the warship, there was a clash of arms and the banner was dipped. A tall, dark figure, burly, armed and flashing, and full of intention, came striding down the gangway.

"Welcome home, Posthumus," said the Emperor, smiling. "You have saved us the trouble of coming to see you."

3. JOVE'S OWN BOLT

Posthumus paused for a moment. His gold and scarlet plume waved a foot and a half above the Emperor's head. His olivedark and broadly handsome face took on a look of calculation.

"Where have you hidden your troops?"

The Emperor raised his eyebrows.

"There are a few sentries in the garden as usual and possibly a few by the tunnel. Really, Posthumus, you travel with a considerable retinue."