Envoy Extraordinary

"And how long have you been in the army, my man?"

Amphitrite's cable charred through and snapped. Her turning circle became a wide sweep. She touched one of the trots of merchantmen moored by the warehouses and immediately they were dressed overall with flame.

'Somebody use a crab!"

All at once every man in every ship was possessed by one idea-to get out of the harbour. A burning warship limped astern past the end of the quay and the heat from her scorched the parade. Outside Amphitrite's dreadful arc the water was hidden by ships great and small that fought each other and strove for the safety of the haze-covered sea. Over all this the thunder rolled, dropping bright light into the hills and the band played.

"Where did you get that scar? A jab with a spear? A bottle, eh?"

The legionaries stood rigidly to attention under their sixty-four pounds of brass, their impedimenta, their loot, and the dreadful heat. The Colonel watched a drop of sweat forming on the tip of his nose till his eyes crossed. The Emperor spoke to each man in the front rank.

There was a mess of warships revolving in the centre of the harbour with Amphitrite nuzzling them. The captain of one of them was facing Posthumus at the salute. At that moment either a cable charred through or someone, in blind obedience, used a crab. A black star-shaped hole appeared on the quarterdeck where the captain had been. He went down with his ship.

"How tall are you? Do you like the army? Where did you get that dint from? A slingstone? I should have said a slingstone, shouldn't you, Colonel? Don't ever let the Quartermaster issue you with a new shield, my man. Tell him the Emperor said so. How many children have you got? None? We must arrange some leave after this inspection."

The word "leave" spread. The legionaries stiffened to endure but already some of them were swaying. The Emperor moved along the front rank with awful deliberation.

Don't I remember you from the IXth? In Greece? Why haven't you been promoted? Look into that, Colonel, will you?"

A second warship was extracting herself from the harbour among a mass of smaller shipping. Amphitrite was bearing down on the harbour mouth in pursuit of the Emperor's barge.

What are you going to have done for that boil, my man? Here's what I call a really impressive fellow. How on earth he can support those three bundles I don't know. What's your name?"

Suddenly there was a gap of air in front of the Emperor and a brazen crash. The legionary had passed out.

"As I was saying, we must arrange some leave for them now that the Heir has brought them home to their Father."

"Caesar--"

"Where did you lose that eye, my man? Don't lose the other, will you?"

Crash.

Oil was spilling from a warehouse and burning on the water. A thick cloud of black smoke drifted across the parade.

The Emperor spoke softly to the Colonel.

"You see how comedy and tragedy are mingled. Whose orders will you take? These men ought to be putting out the fires."

The Colonel's eyes uncrossed for a moment.

"I have my orders, Caesar."

"Very well. Now, my man, how do you like the army? Has it made a man of you?"

Crash.

"Discipline," said the Emperor to the right-hand man, "is a great convenience."

"Caesar?"

"I should have said a splendid thing of course."

He stood looking down into the sooty water of the harbour entrance. A constant flow of singed traffic was passing before him. The band drowned the language that came from it but judging from the contorted faces it was complex and personal. Amphitrite and the imperial barge came through almost together.

"Tell me, sergeant, if I gave the orders 'Right turn, quick march' would you obey me?"

But the sergeant was an old soldier, mahoganycoloured and indestructible. His loot was worth all the rest on the quay, but it was in a tiny bag suspended under his breast-plate. Even so the sweat ran off him.

"In the 'oggin, armour an' all, Caesar?" For a moment the disciplined eyes flickered sideways and down. "I'd be glad to."

It was not only the smoke and sweat that threw up meditative gleam in the Emperor's eye.

"Sir! Caesar!"

The words burst from the Colonel. His sword was vibrating and the veins in his neck were swelling like ivy-branches. The Emperor smiled peacefully and turned to worm his way between the ranks. It was like being in a tunnel under the huge bundles, in the thick air and before the row of bulging eyes. But there were a number of air-holes already where Posthumus' chosen men lay flat on their backs, keeled over on parade. The little trail of men, the Colonel, Mamillius, Phanocles, wormed after the Emperor. The panic uproar of the town, the harbour and the shipping was punctuated by the brazen fall of legionaries.