“Just how ill is my father?” Constantine asked the secretary when they were outside the room.
Eumenius gave him a quick, appraising glance. “He had a serious attack two months ago, but is much better now. That’s why the expedition to Britain comes so late in the year.”
“But he will recover completely?”
“Your father is fiftyfive years old and the years since he came to Gaul have been a strain, even for a strong man. I cannot say what caused the attack he suffered a few months ago. It may have been a recurrence of an old fever, or an ailment of the liver, which could be more serious. Just now he is improving, but you could see that he has lost a good deal of weight.”
“His color is not as good as I remember it either,” Constantine said.
“The burdens of maintaining the peace are always heavy,” Eumenius told him. “I am pleased that strong shoulders are here to share them.”
Gallic prince had reverted
They had hardly left the building and started up the street, when Constantine heard his name shouted and turned to be engulfed in the embrace of Crocus, his old companion from the training days at Nicomedia. The Gallic prince had reverted to the customs of his people. His rich blond hair was combed back and hung almost to his shoulders, being held there by a narrow band about his head.
A tremendous moustache curled at both ends of his upper lip. His tunic was dyed a half dozen colors and the breeches beneath, ending in leather boots, were embroidered with flowers that were quite as colorful as the tunic. A cloak hung from his shoulders by a golden chain, golden bracelets were on his wrists, and golden earrings in his ears.
“Your Majesty.” Eumenius’ words brought Constantine up short and for the first time he noticed that the silver band on Crocus’ head was actually a narrow jeweled coronet, while the cloak that hung from his shoulders was dyed purple.
“You’re a king!” he cried.
“It’s only a small kingdom, left me by my father at his death,” his friend assured him. “Augustus Constantius confirmed me as its ruler, but my real work is with the army and the Gallic horse.”
“Then my letter ”
“Opened every door for me after Galerius may his name be forever a curse sent me home in disgrace. When your father discovered that I had some small knowledge of horses and horsemanship ”
“And was the best cavalryman in the Empire ”
“Oh no, my friend! That honor is yours,” Crocus corrected him. “It was won on the field at Nicomedia and confirmed from what I hear on the banks of the Euphrates.”
“Your Majesty,” Eumenius’ voice interrupted firmly. “It is time for the Emperor’s medicine; I was taking the tribune and the centurion to find quarters.”
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