Chapter 23

Proconsul Mencius was restlessly pacing the wharf when Captain Fulvius arrived at twilight on Saturday evening accompanied by the Legate from Minoa, his slave, and half a dozen cavalrymen.

‘We are taking Legate Marcellus Gallio with us to Rome,’ explained Fulvius as he wearily dismounted. Lowering his voice, he added, ‘Don’t expect too much of this boy. He’s out of his head.’

Introductions were attempted unsuccessfully. Young Gallio, pale, haggard, and bewildered, made no effort to be gracious.

‘The Legate is ill, sir,’ interposed Fulvius. ‘I will show him to his quarters at once.’ He beckoned to the slave, who collected their luggage and followed his badly befuddled master. Mencius reflected that he had never seen a more perfect specimen of physical manhood than this handsome Greek. In a few moments Fulvius reappeared on deck and took the Proconsul aside.

‘What a day!’ The Captain mopped his perspiring brow. ‘First chance I had to deliver the Emperor’s letter was at Pilate’s banquet, last night, for the visiting officers.’

‘And Marcellus read it—and lost his balance?’ wondered Mencius.

‘He had already lost his balance. He was dazed, dead on his feet, utterly indifferent to the Emperor’s message ordering his return to Rome. He inquired when we were sailing and asked if he might go with us.’ Fulvius shook his head. ‘It’s beyond me. I tried to talk to him today. All he would say was, “Were you out there?”‘

‘Maybe the crucifixion was too much for him,’ suggested Mencius.

‘He’s used to the sight of bloodshed.’

‘The slave seems intelligent. Think he knows what ails the Legate?’

‘Perhaps. He is worried about him. I told the Greek we weren’t sailing directly to Rome and he replied, “There’s no hurry.”‘

‘He probably wants the Legate to have time to recover his senses before he meets the Emperor,’ thought Mencius.

Fulvius chuckled.

‘Old Tiberius may like him better if he is a bit crazy…By the way, you haven’t heard anything from your Arab?’

‘It’s hardly time yet.’

‘Looks like an interesting voyage,’ drawled Fulvius, ‘with a crazy man in one cabin and a fugitive in another.’

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