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STRANGE DILEMMA By Geneva Silene, the young queen of Genoria, uses cunning, ruthlessness and her magic book to protect her small kingdom against the encroaching Roman Empire. In my story "Myrine", I set the locale in the small state of Genoria. This is another story of Genoria, as it prepares to resist the encroaching Roman Empire in the 1st. Century BC. START Queen Silene looked out of her palace window, biting her lip in thought. Her chancellor, Hermia, patiently watched the queen pace the room. She usually would give advice only if asked, as Silene was the absolute ruler. "This is a troublesome business, chancellor. Our little nation of Genoria is caught between the Roman Empire, the Armenians and the Parthians. It will be difficult for us preserve our position and independence. This is complicated too. As our citizens grow more prosperous they are more aware of the products of other nations and want them. There will be a demand for Roman goods. There have been some negotiations with the Romans, haven't there?" "There are, your majesty, and I agree. The Romans are the most pressing problem. On your instructions, some negotiations began a year ago. They were delicate, as our realm, as in the past, has preferred to keep apart from others, but we have agreed to have a Roman delegation visit us in several months, possibly with establishing trade." "Trade will give some benefits, but we cannot be careless. The Roman Empire keeps expanding, and swallowing up small states, right up to our neighbor, Ceradol. To survive we need to be very careful." "This planned Roman trade delegation, we really need a spy in it," Hermia suggested hesitatingly. "A good idea, Hermia, but how?" She shook her head in annoyance. " Oh, let me think about this. In the meantime, I suppose I have some more pressing matters, the daily affairs?" "Yes, your majesty. There is your usual court to dispense your justice." "What are the cases today?" "Oh, most of the cases are petty strife among our citizens but we have a young man originally from Ceradol, called Mursiles. As you know, we have not had good relations with Ceradol historically. Lately we have established better contacts with them, and we have Ceradolans visit us. This Mursiles is one of them. He has said he does not like how the Romans have taken over Ceradol and he left Ceradol because of that. Unfortunately he may have broken some of our laws. He is a merchant and trader, but some of our own merchants say he tried to swindle them. " "As a resident here he is subject to the penalties prescribed by our laws. Does he know that?" "I am sure he does, majesty. We make that clear to all traders." "Then I will offer the penalties to him, if he is guilty. Our special punishment, or deportation, or death." Hermia gave small smile. "By 'our special punishment', using the book, you mean? I wonder if our ancestors ever thought of this use for the transformation spell when they first devised the book." "It has been useful for us, certainly." Before her justice session, Silene took a few minutes to check the appearance of her six attendants. Four had been born women. Two were free women, two other women had been convicted of minor crimes and she had sentenced them to be her slaves for some months. As her attendants, they would get training and discipline and would be able, when freed, to find work as servants. The other two of the women were different. They too were undergoing training, but they had been born men. They had been found guilty of serious crimes, sentenced to be changed to women by Silene's magic book, and reduced to slavery. Soon, as trained female slaves, they would be sold out of Genoria along the Pontus coast. Her attendants stood respectfully before her, all in different colored gowns. The two former men were virtually indistinguishable from the others, except for their shorter hair. All were elaborately made up in a style that identified them as her personal attendants, with red lips and decorated eyes, with elaborate coiled hair and conspicuous earrings. The silver collars fixed on the necks of four of them indicated their slavery. Silene nodded in approval. Their appearance was up to the standard she demanded. She stood while they draped her robes of office on her, fixed her jeweled sandals, and set her crown on her head. Looking at the two former men, she had the beginnings of an idea, but she would need to think about it. At her nod, her attendants held her train and she moved regally into her throne room. They arranged her train and robes round her throne and stood respectfully behind her as the session began. Hermia stood by her side at the throne, and at Silene's nod, guards brought the miscreants before her. One by one, she dispensed justice, admonishments, fines or, in one case, five strokes of a rod. At last she faced the Ceradolan, Mursiles. She listened as Hermia read the crimes, and then heard from witnesses. Silene frowned. Something was wrong. She distrusted the stories of the complainants. She had an idea that the young man was probably innocent. She should really investigate the complainants, but she had an idea. She stared at the young man as sternly as she could. "We gave you our hospitality, yet you abused it. We have tried to build relations with Ceradol, but you betrayed our trust. What do you have to say?" The young man was good-looking, maybe innocent as well, Silene thought, but she had to appear adamant. "I am innocent of these crimes. These people lied," he protested. The young man spoke the Genorian dialect well, but with a noticeable Ceradol accent. That would suit her plan well. "How dare you! You will hold your tongue, Ceradolan! I find you guilty. I have a punishment for the likes of you." She watched him grow pale. "But I will deal with you later. Take him to the cells!" she ordered. Hermia raised her eyebrows at Silene's decision, but said nothing. Often punishment or execution was carried out immediately. At Silene's summons she followed her into her private chambers. Even Silene's attendants were dismissed after they had helped remove her robes of office. "You are wondering what is going on, Chancellor?" "Yes, majesty." When Silene explained her idea, Hermia frowned. "That may be risky, majesty, but it is a chance to get the information we need." "Then let us see the prisoner." With two guards they made their way to the cells. The young man nervously looked up at them. "Mursiles, you are guilty of crimes to our state. We have a number of prescribed punishments, but for you, we offer you another penalty. You will have to do a task for us, and for that we will be more merciful. You see, if you do some services for us satisfactorily, we will change you back to your male body and free you. But we would change you into a woman first." Mursiles looked astonished. "You cannot change a man into a woman." "I assure you that we can." Mursiles licked his lips, his face stricken. "I don't want to be a woman." "Then that, or death!" emphasized Hermia. The man swallowed several times, glancing at the women's adamant faces. At last he replied. "What would I have to do?" he croaked. "You would be sold as a female slave to a Roman, and act as a spy for us. Afterwards, we will change you back to your male body, free you and allow you to depart." Mursiles hid his face with his hands in despair while the two women watched him. "But I would not know how to behave as a woman." After a long minute he groaned. "Do I have your promise?" "Yes, as a queen, I promise. But you will need some training as a female slave first. I have my own slaves and attendants. They will be good teachers to show you how to behave as a woman." "I suppose I must accept. But I tell you I am innocent!" "Do not argue! Our sentence has been given. We will start the procedure tomorrow." Mursiles was angry, pounding the wall with his fists. He cursed the women who had lied about him, and the queen's implacable sentence, but he had no choice. He barely slept that night, in apprehension of what would happen. He could not conceive of life as a woman, and as a slave, but they had said the alternative was death. Next morning, his stomach pounding, he heard the cell door open, and four women stood before him. One was Silene. This time she was not in her formal robes, but in a simple sleeveless white gown edged with purple and gold at her neckline. At her side were two of her attendants and another woman, an older one. "Mursiles, this is the high priestess, Aglaea, who will administer the spell. To remind you of what I said yesterday, you are to be changed to a woman. She will be your age. Then, to first accustom you to your new body and duties, you will serve as my personal slave for some weeks. You will be treated as just one of my attendants. Finally, you will be sent as a spy to a Roman and report to me. If you do all of these satisfactorily, then your male body will be restored. Do you still agree?" His voice was hoarse. "Yes," he said. Aglaea even gave a mocking bow, and Mursiles flushed with anger, his eyes wary as the priestess unwrapped a little object from a bundle. It was a book. The priestess opened it at one page. "This is the spell that will make you into a woman," she said. "You are ready?" "Yes," he muttered. Aglaea opened the book turned to a page and began to read. Mursiles thought the words just sounded like gibberish. Reading them only took a few minutes. When she had finished Mursiles looked at her in surprise. He had expected more. Aglaea waved her hands. "You are not the first to hear the spell and I doubt that you will be the last. I can see you wondering if it really has that power, but the spell takes some minutes to start. You will start to shiver first." The women seemed very confident but Mursiles wondered if they were collectively under some delusion. If the spell did not work would they execute him? Silene was studying him intently. "Yes, as my personal slave, you will attend to me. I am a fair mistress, but I am firm. I am your absolute mistress. You will obey me or be punished. And to show my power, you will be stripped and whipped after the spell." Mursiles gasped. He had not been told that. "Please, no!" but almost immediately a shiver took him. It only lasted a few seconds then it had gone. He was very nervous. He waited a few minute then shook his head. "I do not think it is working." "Just wait." Aglaea was watching him carefully. Another shiver took him, stronger. It soon subsided but a few seconds later yet another took him and he had to tense his muscles to control them. Another violent shiver took him and he sank to the floor. He tried to speak. "No," he cried, in sudden second thoughts, trying to hold back yet another shiver. His teeth began chattering. Silene was still watching him. "You are now shivering. You have just experienced an old Genorian tradition. It was an old magic spell read out of an ancient book. My nation used it much in the past. Some centuries ago the spell was recited to all male children so that they became girls. You may have heard that in the distant past Genoria was a state for women only? "The spell also makes grown men into women. In the past we even used it to destroy enemies, including some Ceradolans, but it could be useful too, to allow selected worthy individuals to join our tribe, although as women. Others, who we did not want, we simply sold as female slaves to other states where women have less status than here in Genoria. That would be a punishment." She glared at the young man. "And that, or death, is your fate unless you do as we agreed." "That is nonsense!" he cried. The cell seemed to be getting darker. He barely heard the last words. He was shaking too much, and darkness fell over him. The women watched as the spell began its work and, in a little over two hours, what lay before them in the cell was a young woman, unconscious on the floor. The girl was told afterwards that it was about two days before she began to be aware of herself and feel every muscle and bone in her body ache. She had a terrible thirst and someone wiped her face and body with cool water. When she was offered some she drank it, spluttering, most spilling onto her. She had tried to open her eyes but it was too much effort and she let sleep claim her again. The next time she awoke the ache was not nearly so severe. When she forced her eyes open it was dark and could only see dimly. She attempted to rise, fighting against the stiffness that was all over her body, but it was too much and she just lay on her bed until she saw the room begin to lighten in the dawn. She barely registered that she was now naked. She did not understand where she was at first. She tried to remember what had happened, but her head was aching too much to concentrate. Later, she forced her mind to remember where she was and what had happened. Slowly things came back. There was something about shivering, and a woman. She remembered the queen. What was her name? Sil,,.. Silene! It came to her suddenly. A woman Aglaea too, who had used some spell from a book. What was the spell? Something about a woman? Then as it got lighter still, she managed to slide her feet to the floor, becoming aware of a clinking sound and she found her ankle was chained to a ring in the bed. She took a closer look at her ankle, not recognizing it. It was too slim, the same with the leg. It was then she became aware of the different feel of her chest on her thighs as she leaned over, a soft pressure, and her chest seemed more sensitive. She looked at her chest, gasping then screaming in shock when she saw two prominent female breasts. Even worse, she recognized it was a high- pitched scream, like a woman's. She shook her head to clear it and looked around. Her whole body felt different. She looked at her hands. They were small and weak looking. Panicking, she turned her hand this way and that, and looked at the attached arm. For some reason it looked like a woman's arm and attached hand. She gasped, registering that her voice now sounded different. She jumped up from the bed, looking down at her body. Below the breasts her waist was much more indented, then swelled below to wide hips and a slightly rounded belly. Desperate now, she grabbed at her crotch, a terrible shock running over her when she felt nothing in the hair except a slight mound, with a vertical groove. In growing realization she did not really want to, but something drove her on to test further. The groove ran into a nub, then puckered soft flesh surrounding a moist opening. She shuddered, recognizing what had happened. It was as Silene had said, something about making her into a ... woman! She moaned and sank to her knees, huddled on the floor, as much as the chain on her ankle allowed. They had made her into a woman. Silene had destroyed Mursiles. His life was over. He was in a new body. Mursiles had gone and in his place was a woman, but she would be unrecognizable. Worse, she remembered that Silene had said she would be enslaved. She could be at the mercy of some master, with her weak woman's body. Mursiles' life would be gone. Broken, she cried out, oblivious to her surroundings, for what must gave been hours. The sight of her naked female body continually drew her eyes and brought her fresh despair. At last, worn out from screaming, she forced herself to look around. She was in a cell, obviously, but different from the one she had been in before. Finally the door opened and she blinked at the newcomers in the sudden light of a torch. It was a guard, a female, with Silene, followed by two beautiful young women, some of the queen's personal attendants. She remembered seeing them.... at her trial. She was innocent, but there she had been pronounced guilty. "Please what have you done? I cannot be like this. I am a man. Please, have mercy." Silene glared at him. "I am being kind. I could have had you slain. You agreed to this. You want to know where you are? We use this place for my female slaves. You are no longer a man! Some of them had been criminals, and men, like you. They too had been changed to women. " She gestured to her two attendants. "Like these." The two slaves indicated grimaced slightly, but said nothing. "Actually, although being a woman is a privilege here, there are some countries elsewhere where women are not treated well. Often to punish criminals we change them and sell them away to these uncivilized lands where even free women are barely better than men's slaves. Some days ago I told you my offer. Do you still agree?" Silene's eyes were hard, but she hoped that the girl would agree. The girl had no choice. "Yes," she whispered, "I will do it." "Good! So then, you who were Mursiles, first we have to get a new name for you, a suitable female one to match your new body. Should it remind you of your male name, or would you like a delicate female name?" The new girl looked at the implacable dark eyes. She knew Silene was toying with her and she did not dare answer. "You are dark complexioned. You were a man, but maybe now you have the makings of a pretty flower, a dark one, so I will call you Melanthe. Now, I will be kind and leave you to rest a bit more. The spell is severe, but I will be back in two days. Then you will have recovered fully and be ready for the next part. Oh, yes, you will have lost all of your male hair by then." She plucked some hair from his arm. It came off with barely a sting. Over the two days Melanthe found that the rest of the coarse male hair on her limbs stripped off. At her groin too, much of the hair fell out, leaving her with only a small dark patch. The queen returned in two days, again with her attendants. She stood over Melanthe. "I am your owner now, you will kneel in my presence." She glared at the girl and, hoping to mollify her, Melanthe knelt at her feet. She placed her brow on Silene's jeweled sandals as she was ordered. "So Melanthe, as a woman,you will have to make amends for your crime , and to train you as a woman, I will have you serve me as one of my maids, until we can install you as a spy." She wrinkled her nose. "But, you smell like barn or worse. So, you had better wash. You will be expected to keep yourself absolutely clean as I am going to take you as my personal slave, at least for a few months to train you. When you are my slave I demand absolute obedience, and to prove that I am not joking, in a day or so you will be ritually whipped, to give you a taste of what punishment you should expect from other than absolute obedience. All of my personal slaves are whipped when they first enter my service." She looked round the cell and sniffed disdainfully. "Yes, these cells need some cleaning. Maybe that will be one of your first duties. Take this new woman," she commanded her slaves, "and make her presentable." "Leave me alone!" Melanthe screamed and she struggled but she was helpless against them. The women pulled her up the stairs from the cellar. " We are going to the women's area. It is strictly reserved for women," one said. Her limbs were still stiff, but they paid no attention to her gasps. They filled a tub with warm water and pulled her into it. Their attentions were too vigorous for her to enjoy having the grime and sweat of the cellar washed off. She was soaped all over and her hair washed, her finger and toenails clipped. When one dark-haired girl rubbed her chest Melanthe winced inadvertently as the hands swept her new breasts and nipples. The slave looked at Melanthe in glee. "So!" she said, "Melanthe is discovering what a woman's body feels. Let us show her more." One girl held each of her arms and another held her legs while the girl pinched her nipples and laughed in delight at Melanthe's mixture of embarrassment and shock. All the girls were tittering at her too. There was a sudden quiet and Melanthe felt the hands quickly removed. "Quiet!" she heard and she turned to see Silene looking at them. "That is enough! Behave yourselves! Finish your work, girls," she commanded. Melanthe was towelled dry and her hair combed. She was relieved that Silene made no comment on her red face. "Stand back," said Silene, looking her up and down. Melanthe felt the queen's eyes at her breasts, her face and most of all, at the vee of her legs and belly. She took Melanthe's head in her hands, lifting it, turning it back and forward to examine her. Melanthe almost shivered again at the nearness of the queen's dark eyes and red lips. Then Silene stood back and scrutinized her body again. "My congratulations, Melanthe. You have become a beautiful woman, as I expected. I shall take pleasure in having you serve me as one of my personal slaves. She frowned. "I see the girls are not done with you yet. I require my women to be well groomed, as they should if they are my servants." "Finish her," she ordered. She gave an ironic smile. "Decorate her as one of my slaves." Mealnthe groaned. She was not done yet. One soaped under her arms and shaved her there and, moving to her belly, even trimmed her pubic hair. Another combed and towelled her hair until it dried to a lustrous sheen. She even set it with ornaments. When Melanthe complained the girl just laughed. "They are cheap ornaments. It would not do for you to compete with the queen." "Now to make you up," a girl said. "By the way, I am called Phaedra." Melanthe was placed at a bench and cosmetics applied to her: kohl and blue green colours for her eyes, a red dye for her lips and even her nipples and areolas. An exotic perfume was dabbed on her neck. "Please do not do this," she pleaded. Phaedra shook her head. "Queen Silene's attendants must be made up to identify them and reflect her power as queen. Almost done, Melanthe, but one more thing," the girl said. Melanthe tried to jump up when she saw another girl was carrying a pair of silver earrings and a large needle. "You will sit still!" Phaedra commanded. Melanthe tried to escape but was too late. The other girls held her limbs and head. She had always hated the thought of something piercing her flesh but they held her too tightly to even squirm. She screamed at the sharp pain at one earlobe. Her eyes watered as the pain was repeated at the other ear and then yet again as the girl pushed the earrings though the tiny holes and fastened them. "The queen has us wear these earrings so that we are immediately recognizable as her attendants." Melanthe felt their weight on her ears immediately. "Better not weep, Melanthe," the girl said. "I will be annoyed if I have to redo the kohl at your eyes. Now, stand up! It is time you saw yourself." She pushed Melanthe to a mirror. "How do you like yourself now?" Melanthe briefly ignored the stinging in her ears. She was awestruck. She would not have believed that she could have been so changed. Facing her was a young woman who bore no resemblance at all to Mursiles except in coloring. Instead she saw a beautiful olive skinned young woman with a pretty face, large dark eyes, high cheeks and red full lips. The silver earrings actually complemented her appearance nicely, although spots of fresh blood showed at her earlobes. Her neck was long and slim, over pretty shoulders. Her body was well curved, with full breasts, each tipped with a brown nipple and areola, a narrow waist and wide hips. Her limbs were long, slim and smooth. Her face was framed by slightly curly black hair, pretty enough, but much too short for a woman. Phaedra had noticed. "Your hair is too short. The queen will forbid you to cut it while you are here, but I have been told you will only be here for a few months at most. You are lucky. I wish my sentence had been as short. I was a man too, once." Melanthe's jaw fell open. Phaedra too showed no sign of having been a man. Inadvertently Melanthe turned her head to better see herself, feeling her new earrings pull slightly on her earlobes and brush her neck. It was strangely stimulating. She looked again in the mirror. Her neck was smooth, with no signs of an Adam's apple. She turned around more, wondering at how smoothly her narrow waist flared into womanly curved hips and buttocks. These in turn were set over smooth slim thighs and long legs. She looked at her small feet. Her calves and ankles were slim and neat. She held up her hands to better see them. They were small, but with long tapering fingers. The girls had smoothed her nails into a graceful rounded feminine shape. Melanthe was awestruck. The girl was beautiful, a paragon of exotic female beauty, but she was devastated that it was her. She closed her eyes in shame, embarrassment and apprehension to block the vision. She was suddenly aware of how men would look at her and her vulnerability. Later, she was hunched over on a stool in the room assigned to Silene's slaves, still wincing at the stinging in her ears when she looked up to see Silene standing over her. "Yes, Melanthe, you are actually quite pretty. I shall enjoy training you. You will be completely at my beck and call. I have six other attendants, as you have seen. Two are free women, and experienced. These have the duties of both attending to me and training the others. They are all slaves. Now, one of the first things I expect my slaves is to learn absolute obedience. For that you will be whipped to give you a taste of what to expect if your disobey me." "What? Please no!" Melanthe screamed, but Silene turned on her heel and three of the girls seized Melanthe. ........... In Rome, Marcus Decius Lucius sat before his father Junius in their main warehouse and listened to the older man. "Marcus, I have a task for you. A delegation to Genoria is being planned and I have made sure you will be in it. I have given a little gift or two to some senators to get you invited." "Where is Genoria, father?" "It is a small state along the Black Sea coast, fairly far east. It is a kingdom, ruled by a woman, strangely enough. You have been training with me some years and, as you are familiar with our business, I want you to go along and see if there is a good opportunity for trade. "We have been trying to get in there for a number of years. Usually the Genorians rejected all contacts with the Empire but after many overtures they have finally agreed to receive a small Roman delegation. I have been able to get an invitation for you to accompany it from some senators. I have given an inducements to them in the past to use their influence and voting to get us favorable trade concessions and further expand our trading network. So, this invitation might get us a good start over other businesses in any developing trade in the area. "You will go first to Ceradol. That's a neighbor of Genoria. We have a small trading post there, although our main Eastern depot is in Greece. .................. Melanthe had been in servitude under Silene for two months when she was summoned to the queen. She knelt at her feet, her brow on Silene's sandals, as she had been taught. "Melanthe, you have now served me for two months as punishment. You had much to learn and I despaired of you at first. However, since then you have improved I think you can now end this part of your service to me. I think no one would know now you were not raised as a girl." Melanthe hid her anger at the queen. She had been unjustly treated and enslaved. She was also angry with herself that she had almost become used to behaving as a woman. The queen and the attendants had drilled and cajoled her in many things, even to the way she walked and spoke to train her. "Melanthe, I mentioned when I first changed you that you might earn your male body back. I now have an offer for you. It is now time for you to take up the other task. If you successfully carry it out, I will change you back." Melanthe could barely keep still. She could get her male body back and perhaps even be free! "What is the task, mistress?" "We, my kingdom, have been in negotiations with the Roman Empire. They say that they wish to trade with us, but we are cautious. I believe the former criminal Mursiles was from Ceradol, which has now become a Roman possession, and it is on our doorstep." She looked down at Melanthe with a slight smile on her lips. "Yes, you are from Ceradol and you know that, beginning some years ago, the Roman Empire expanded here into Asia Minor. They pressured some of the states to come into their sphere of influence. The presence of several legions of the Romans' well armed and well trained soldiers, and their persuasion, sometimes subtle and sometimes a little more forceful, has been enough to get trade concessions for the Romans, and even establish trade monopolies for some Roman businessmen. That is a danger we face. I have been told they even use assassinations of objecting rulers. "Genoria is a small state. We cannot resist them if it ever came to war, but we must try to use it for our advantage." Silene shook her head. "The Romans are greedy. As they absorb more states, their resources are put to the benefit of Rome, gold and silver of course, but other metals like copper, tin and lead, good quality timber, grain, livestock and slaves. Oh yes, Rome has a continual need of fresh slaves. "These are my concerns. Now, we have heard that a visit of delegates from the Roman senate is being planned, and my agents tell me there is a young man, Marcus Lucius Decius with them. He is the son of Junius Decius, who is a businessman, the owner of a large trading and merchant house, and a man of influence in Rome and its empire. You are to be sold to Marcus as a slave, and when he is here you are to give me or Hermia regular reports. You are a female slave. He will suspect a girl less, and of course, you will have to report back to me if you ever want your male body back. There will be eventually freedom for you as well." Melanthe could not answer. As a slave she risked being sent by this Marcus Lucius anywhere, and away from any hope of getting her male body back. She would belong to this Roman entirely. She could even be killed with no retribution. But this was her only chance, a slim one, of regaining her male body and freedom. "Yes, your majesty, I will try. But how will I finally be freed?" "You will be freed only if you help us. If you are not here in Genoria, I will have my agents search for you, abduct you and the reverse spell will be read to you. But you must give me accurate and regular reports. I prefer in-person reports, but I know you can write." "How will I be sold to him?" "One of the employees of Junius Decius in Ceradol is in our pay. He will arrange to get you to the son, Marcus Decius, as a slave. You have a knowledge of our language and will be useful to him." ................ Just a bit nervously, Marcus Decius watched as the Roman galley passed through the narrow harbor entrance of Genoria. It was obviously a trading vessel, and the Genorians were supposed to be expecting its arrival, but up until now they had acted very suspicious of Rome. He wondered how they would accept the Roman delegation and his own trade overtures. He had travelled a lot on his father's business but the last few days of this voyage had not been easy against continual contrary strong winds. To avoid being driven onto the cliffs they had remained well out at sea, enduring pitching in the waves, until the winds lessened and they could approach the harbor. Just to be on the safe side, the party also included a centurion, Quintus Lucullus Sentio, and about three dozen experienced legionnaires. In addition, the galley had a dozen crew and about forty galley slaves, chained to the oars. Marcus had made some enquiries on his own about Genoria. He had found it was a small city-state, almost surrounded by mountains on the south and west, the sea with mostly steep cliffs on the north, interspersed with a few flat areas, and marshes to the east. That meant that the only reasonable access was by the harbor. As the galley slowly glided into the dock area, they saw a group of people move onto the wharf. Quintus Lucullus was standing beside Marcus and grunted. "So they are waiting for us. Their organization is efficient. I am impressed. Did you see the smoke on the mountaintop as we rounded the headland?" "Yes, and there was another one further away, wasn't there? It must be a signal system to warn them of visitors." "Careful bunch, and suspicious! I've warned the men to be on their best behavior! We don't want to undo the efforts of getting a delegation here." Marcus studied the harbor and the buildings around it while the galley made its preparations for docking. The harbor itself was not very large, with a few trading vessels and fishing boats off to one side. The dock structure, made of close fitting large blocks of stone, looked well maintained. The harbor buildings looked in fairly good order, with the usual collection of stores and taverns. Their style appeared to be fairly distinct from the Greek influenced settlements further west along the coast. Some building styles looked like old Persian designs. "So that's the so called welcoming party, is it?" the centurion muttered. "Stand-offish bunch! You'd think they'd offer us some help." The party on the docks only watched as the galley gently bumped on the wharf. They made no attempt at all to help in the docking so the captain had to order two of his crew to jump onto the dock. A rope was thrown to one and he tied the ship's bow to a post while the other crewman tied the stern. Still making absolutely no attempt to help, the officials watched impassively as two crewman placed put a plank from the galley to the dock and one waved his hand to the captain, that all was ready. The centurion grimaced. "All right, Marcus, now that we're here, I suppose I'd better get the men ready." He checked with the delegates, who moved to the plank and, at his command, the legionnaires formed up and stood rigidly to attention. Quintus straightened his helmet, checked his uniform and took a deep breath. The waiting committee on the dock suddenly sprang to life, walking forward to the ship's gangplank to face the party. Now that they were closer to him Marcus was able to give a bit more attention to them. The body proportions of the two leading Genorians, and the way they walked, looked unusual, until, with some surprise, he recognized that the two were women, dressed in elaborate robes of office, and behind them, two men, also in some kind of robes and behind these, in well-ordered ranks, about fifty soldiers. He studied them, squinting in the strong sun. He was taken aback when he saw that about a third of these were also women. The men were well armed with polished spears, swords at their sides and carrying shields. The heavy sandals on their feet were of new leather and well polished. The women soldiers carried swords too. Along with these they carried short, but efficient looking bows and quivers of arrows. Marcus pursed his lips. So the information about Genoria was true! He had heard that this state had a large proportion of women in high positions, and that even the ruler was a woman. One of the traders who first made contact with them had said that the Genorians claimed to be descended from a tribe of Amazons. He had dismissed that as an old Greek myth, but whatever the reasons, Genoria obviously had women in high office. He watched as the centurion checked his uniform yet again and stepped ashore, behind the standard bearer. The centurion had made one of the legionnaires polish up an eagle standard with S.P.Q.R. below it. Now, in the strong sun, it glittered and shone, representing the power, prestige and efficiency of Rome. The next man ashore was the interpreter. Marcus hoped he would understand the Genorians easily. He had been told that they spoke in a Greek dialect. One of the officials, an older woman in a dark green gown, finally stepped forward and acknowledged the centurion with just the slightest of bows. "Romans, welcome to Genoria! My name is Hermia. I am the chancellor of our country and servant to Queen Silene." Her speech, while unusually accented, was Greek and, as he had learned Greek from his tutor in Rome, he could understand her well. The Roman interpreter translated, and the centurion bowed back. "I am Quintus Lucullus Sentio. I am a centurion in the Roman army and I come as part of a delegation from Rome. I bring greetings to the people of Genoria from the Senate and the people of Rome." "Yes, thank you, Quintus Lucullus." "With your permission, chancellor, we have some delegates from Rome who wish to meet with your queen. May I bring them ashore?" "Yes, please do," she said, but there was just a little bustle and tension in the Genorian troops. They obviously were wary of the Romans. At Quintus' signal the four senate delegates stepped onto the shore and were presented to Hermia. Then it was Marcus' turn. He was presented as a merchant who wished to explore the possibility of trade between Genoria and the Roman Empire. He made sure to bow deeply to the woman. Melanthe watched from the ship, recognizing Hermia in her green robes. Marcus had ordered her to remain there. Anyway, as a female slave, she certainly did not merit any introduction to the Genorians. She had been bought by Marcus in Ceradol. When the galley put into Ceradol, Marcus' father's agent, Cliomenes, had suggested that Marcus get his own interpreter, someone familiar with the Genorian dialect, who could be a back-up to the official interpreter would be useful. If the delegation was successful, the interpreter could even help with the trade negotiations. Some days earlier, accompanied by Cliomenes, Marcus had visited the local slave market. He had been looking for someone healthy and intelligent enough for the work he had in mind, but he was disappointed by the selection available. Some dealers had male slaves, but they were either too old, or young. One looked strong and healthy but when Marcus examined him he saw many whipping scars on the man's back. His spirit might be broken, but he had obviously been troublesome in the past and Marcus passed him by. A dealer at the end had a number of slaves, and he examined them. Where are these from?" he asked. "Mainly from here. I think all were debtors and were enslaved." Marcus looked at them again, still not satisfied. Cliomenes pressed him again." Sir, why not look at this young woman over here. The dealer is a friend of mine." "I don't need a woman. I need a strong man." But Marcus could not find anyone suitable and he agreed to examine the woman. The girl was pretty and looked healthy enough. His father had trained him well in assessing slaves, and he examined her more closely. He lifted her head, while the girl looked at him warily. She had no obvious scars or blemishes. Marcus looked at the corners of her eyes, and had her open her mouth to check her teeth. He studied her, unsure. "Look Marcus, I know she's a girl but she would be able to care for your clothes, and cook for you, clean your quarters too," said Cliomenes. " She's pretty too. Useful for warming your bed?" Marcus looked over the girl again. She had flushed at Cliomenes' words. "How old are you?" "Twenty, master." That fitted with her appearance. "How long have you been a slave?" "Two months, master. I was enslaved for insulting a Roman official." That was the story Melanthe had been told to use. Marcus shook his head. "You stupid woman! You deserved the penalty. You should have realized that Romans hold the power and are not to be trifled with." "Yes, master." "Where are you from?" Marcus asked. "This area?" "I am from this city, master." "Can you read or write?" Marcus asked. "Yes, master, I can read our Ceradol language here. I understand Greek and the Genorian dialect too." Marcus, well trained in haggling, did not want to show it but the girl would be almost ideal. He had been told the Genorian language, like the Ceradol one, was related to Greek. Her language skills would be very useful, and she looked healthy enough, although he would have preferred a male slave. "Your name?" he asked. "I am called Melanthe, master." An outlandish name, Marcus thought, but it would do, and after a bit of haggling with the dealer over the price the girl was his. "Then follow me, Melanthe. Now, you should know, I am soon going on a journey, to Genoria. I expect you to translate for me." The girl gave a visible start and bit her bottom lip. "You are worried?" Marcus had asked. "Yes, Master. I was born in Ceradol. My people and the Genorians have not had friendly relations. They have been rivals for many years. In fact the nations were at war some centuries ago. We have not fought since, but we do not trust each other." Marcus had glared at her. "No matter! I am a Roman citizen. You are my slave and are under my protection." However, now that he had finally landed in Genoria, Marcus had left her on board the galley when the party disembarked. He thought it better that her origin not be recognized. When the delegates had all assembled on the dock Hermia bowed to them. "On behalf of my Queen Silene, I welcome the delegation from the Roman Empire, and I am happy that you had a safe trip. This is our realm. I hope that our talks will be fruitful. I understand that you have expressed a wish to meet our ruler, Queen Silene, to begin negotiations on trade." She gestured to the setting sun. " But it is now late in the day and no doubt you will wish to rest. Tomorrow she will hear what you have to say, and decisions will be made in consultation with some of our councils. Until then, we are glad to give you our hospitality. We have arranged accommodation for you near the palace, if that will suit you. You are welcome to use that, or if you wish, you can remain on board your galley." The four delegates and the centurion looked at each other, no one actually willing to take the lead, but they were reluctant to return to the cramped damp quarters of the galley. At last the leader of the delegation, Gaius Flavius Janno, bowed to Hermia. "We thank you, chancellor. We will be pleased to accept your hospitality. But will there be space for our legionnaires? It would seem a pity to send them back to the galley." Marcus grinned inwardly. Gaius was letting the chancellor know that the delegation would prefer their own guards. However, the chancellor showed no sign of being offended. "Of course! I will arrange for food and bedding for them too." The centurion barked a command and the troops filed off the galley and shuffled to attention beside the standard bearer. "Look at the Genorians, Marcus," laughed the centurion. "They're sizing our lads up!" The legionnaires looked impressive and smart, but they were also veterans of many campaigns and eyed the Genorian force just as cautiously. The chancellor pointed away from the harbor and along a street. "Now, if you would like to follow me?" All the delegates, with slaves carrying their gifts, followed her. Gaius Flavius was talking politely to her through the interpreter with Marcus tailing on behind as he was not officially a part of the delegation. Quintus checked over his men and, looking satisfied, fell back beside Marcus. "So, Marcus Decius, what is your first impression of these Genorians." "I agree they are a suspicious lot. But it looks like a prosperous little state". "Know anything about them?" "They say that in the distant past women played a large part here, maybe the only part, and that has affected the development of their culture. They claim to be descended from the Amazons. I heard there was trouble in the past, some centuries back, between Genoria and Ceradol. They are traditional enemies. My slave Melanthe is from Ceradol and she tells me that Genoria has been established a few hundred years. Her tribe, or kingdom, or whatever you call it before it became part of the Roman empire, was often at war with them. " Quintus gave a chuckle. "I thought the Amazons were only mythology." "So did I, but look at what we have seen already. Here they have a queen, not a king. The elderly woman leading us here has the rank of chancellor. And did you see their troops? About a third of them are women and well armed. So maybe there is some Amazon influence after all, or maybe it's just a big act to prop up their mythology." "Anything else she tell you?" "She told me Ceradol had once captured the Genorian queen when they were at war, but a sudden illness took the population and in the confusion the queen escaped." Marcus laughed. "They talked about sorcery being used to suddenly change a lot of the royalty and officials into women, but obviously that's just an old myth, just like them being descended, as they say they are, from Amazons." "Sorcery? Strange how these myths arise. Anyhow, I wonder how these women would be in a fight?" He gave a wry smile. "Yes, Marcus, just sizing them up, an old soldier's habit. I've warned the men to be careful." As they walked along the street, Marcus studied the citizens at the sides. A number of the Genorians were watching the Romans warily, as curious about their visitors as the Romans were of them. "Good-looking people, aren't they," commented Quintus. "Yes, you're right. All of them, the men and women, look tall and straight, and well proportioned. Look at the variety of hair colors too! They look as if they are a mixture of races from all over the area I suppose, and any local races." "You like the look of the women too?" asked Quintus. "Yes, they're very attractive, all of them. Nice looking bodies too, what I can see under their robes. I think they all would get high prices in the slave markets." "Thinking like a slave trader, are you? Just be careful!" "Oh, it's just how my father taught me." They stopped in front of a large building and Hermia pointed to the door. "These are your quarters for your stay here. I have provided servants to help you, and arranged for some food and drink. If there is problem you should tell any of the servants and they have authority to remedy it." She cleared her throat. "It is getting late, but tomorrow you will meet with the ruler of Genoria, Queen Silene. I will call for you in the morning, two hours after dawn. Now, I will bid you good night." The four delegates bowed to her. "We thank you. We will see you tomorrow." As she turned and walked away, the centurion sent the soldiers in first to check the building. Only when they gestured that the building was empty and safe did the party enter. Marcus was almost surprised. "Look at that! They are certainly treating us well!" They had been assigned quite good quarters. There were also straw-filled pads in a larger room for the soldiers, but the centurion set four of them at the front doors as guards. The four delegates, the centurion and Marcus were assigned a smaller room, but still roomy enough for them. Marcus tested the beds and laughed. "Much better than the cramped cots in the galley anyway." They had no sooner settled in than some slaves or servants appeared with ewers of warm water and cloths. The slaves were all young women, dressed in long, dark-blue Grecian style gowns. "Now, there are some good looking girls," he said to the centurion. Most moved gracefully, even with mundane tasks like laying out the food, but Marcus noticed that two of the women looked much more awkwardly, clumsily, wearing apprehensive expressions, downcast eyes, and as if they did not want their bodies to be seen. Their hair was much shorter than the others too. It looked as if they were learners in their serving duties. He saw the woman in charge speak sharply to one of them. The delegation had no sooner washed when they were directed to another large room with a table in the middle. Several servants appeared, each carrying a heaped platter. The one who seemed to be in charge waved for attention. "Welcome again, I have some food for you. I hope it will be to your liking. Some are our Genorian dishes, but we have tried to copy some Roman dishes too. Please help yourselves to it." She bowed and all the servants left. Marcus eyed the food appreciatively. The servants had brought cooked grain, bread, fruit, some meat stews, and some stuff he did not recognize, water and even several flasks of wine. The delegates eyed the food with mixed feelings. It smelled appetizing and they were hungry, but they let their food tester try it first. He seemed fine after an hour and, impatient with hunger, the delegates and soldiers all rushed to sample it. Soon they grinned at each other and gave nods of approval. The Genorians had treated them well. Quintus slapped Marcus on his back. "Good, eh? Much better than the badly cooked stuff, more variety too, than we have had on the galley!' Marcus thought the wine was not as good as Italian wines, but still acceptable. Too bad Melanthe back on the galley couldn't have some of it! The four delegates approved of the wine too, but they did not drink too much. Marcus heard their head delegate, Gaius Flavius, warning them to have clear heads in the morning. He decided too it would be better if he did not drink too much wine. Some of the soldiers had got into the wine and he heard Quintus angrily threaten them. Marcus noticed the good discipline as the soldiers immediately stopped and went to their beds. The delegates looked at each other. It had been a long day and it was time for them to rest as well. The night was eventless. Marcus thought that it was actually very quiet. He had become used to the various creaking noises of the galley and the sound of waves, but it would be a better night than for those left on the galley, and certainly the galley slaves. A bit to his surprise, he found himself wondering again how Melanthe would be. Next morning they were all up at sunrise and had eaten from the variety of fresh food brought in by some servants when a messenger appeared. "Queen Silene will receive you mid-morning. Chancellor Hermia will lead you to her palace." "Everything was satisfactory?" asked Hermia when she appeared a few minutes later. "The slaves and servants, did they perform their duties well?" Marcus happened to be near her and answered. "Yes, they looked after us well." "We had two in training. Any difficulties?" "They did well, but seemed less confident than the others." "So you noticed them! Then they have more to learn. They are slaves, but new to slavery. They were criminals. Criminals here are enslaved, and rigorously trained in duties before they are freed again. Serious criminals are sold away from the city." Marcus perked up his ears at that. He knew Rome had a good market for slaves. Later, led by Hermia and the four delegates, they walked to the palace, only a few hundred paces from their quarters. Behind the delegates were the centurion and Marcus, and tramping behind them, in their heavy sandals, were the legionnaires. "You can really feel the legionnaires' feet on the stones," said Marcus to Quintus. "Oh yes, I ordered them to march in good order, slap their feet down hard too! Nothing like the regular pounding of feet on paving to send a good message to the Genorians in case they get any ideas." Despite that, Marcus was a little concerned at the number of the citizens standing at the side of the street and watching the delegates. He tried to gauge their reactions, but he found himself distracted by the women especially, as they passed them by. They were an attractive race. They would fetch good prices in the markets. "So, Marcus, what do you see you could use?" asked Quintus. "The hills are well forested. Perhaps some of the timber?" he suggested. "But then, I know what your father does. No doubt you have some article of trade." He looked at Marcus sideways." The women. I mean." "Ye, many households would like to have the likes of these as slaves." Quintus grinned. "And other establishments too! So how do you propose to persuade the queen and her subjects here to give you enough slaves to send to Rome?" "Well, we make a lot of things in Rome that they could use here. This is a small place, so they don't have our skills or resources. They are comfortably off, but maybe a taste of luxury goods by the queen would get trade started. That means they would have to pay for it some way. "My father suggested that we could ask for a military presence here. As these are troubled times, we might persuade to queen to allow our legions to come in here for their protection against enemies who don't like their friendship with Rome, and then of course they should pay for our protection. We'd gradually squeeze them until it was to late for any objections. It depends on the queen. If we found her a nuisance we might even be able to organize a revolt, support it and depose her and they'd be a client state. Or if she was weaker we could have her squeeze her subjects, and help her suppress any revolt so she would be in our debt. We've done all of these before and it should work here. Then, once we have control, the resources and the populace would be ours for the picking." Quintus grunted. "Your father has far-reaching ambitions! Well, just be careful. They may not like the idea of being evaluated as possible slaves. It's just a year back there were riots in Ceradol against sending slaves to Rome or other parts. We put them down soon enough, but if there is trouble, we are a long way from Rome." "Yes, we'd need patience, but well, if they did riot, that would be an excuse to send in more of our legionnaires, wouldn't it, and we could take over completely?" "So where is your slave? I haven't seen her for a few hours." "I left her on the galley. I was tempted not bring her along at all because of the old ill-feeling. I don't want to stir up trouble, but maybe the Genorians would feel better about us if they saw we had some of their traditional enemies as slaves." They had now reached the palace. It was built of pink marble, and, like many of the buildings, had a mixture of styles. The soldiers were left outside, but in a short time the others were shepherded into the palace, and along a passage and into a large ornate room. "Look at that!" said Marcus. "That's a gold chair on the dais, and these drapery hangings look expensive. I think we must be in Queen Silene's actual throne room." In an antechamber Silene studied herself in a mirror. She was used to dealing with her own subjects, but this was her first major contact with foreigners and she was nervous. Still, It was important to make a strong impression and she had her attendants pay special attention to her dress, hair and jewelry. She was glad that her mother and father were there too. Hermia bowed slightly to her. "Time, majesty!" Silene took a deep breath, and, with a measured tread, walked into the throne room followed by her attendants, with Hermia in the rear. So the queen did not keep them waiting, Marcus thought. The Romans had barely all filed in when the trumpets had sounded. Taking their cue from the rest of the audience, the four delegates, Marcus and the centurion stood up as the queen entered the room, the train of her long red gown held by two young women attendants in white gowns. They could not afford to appear disrespectful at this time. She looked very stately, Marcus thought. He studied her. She looked quite young, as if she was only in her early twenties. He was impressed with her commanding presence. The women of Genoria, from what he had seen, were quite attractive, and the queen was second to none of them. She was black haired, with a light olive skin. Adding to her striking appearance and regal air, her face was extensively made up, with red lips and reddish gold at her eyes and what looked like a light dusting of gold on her cheeks. Long ornate golden earrings set with red stones dangled from her ears, and golden combs and red, jeweled ornaments were entwined in her dark hair. She wore a light gold crown on her head. Behind her on one side was a man, fairly richly dressed. On her other side was an older woman, also well dressed. "Any idea who these are?" Quintus whispered to Marcus. "I suppose the man is her father. The older woman may be the former queen, her mother. Someone told me that the new queens succeed to the throne when they are nineteen, and the old queens step down. They don't have kings." "More Amazon influence? Anyway, you'd think they would want their rulers to have more experience." "At least then they don't rule into their dotage, like rulers in some other places. No husband or consort around, that I can see." "So she'll be a virgin?" The centurion gave a low chuckle. "Fancy her, do you?" Marcus wondered how he might use the queen's youth and hopefully her inexperience to serve his purposes. If she were inexperienced in intrigue it would make her kingdom an easy mark for the Romans. Also, being unmarried, it might be to their advantage. He watched the proceedings as the delegates moved to stand before the queen. The chancellor did the introductions and the delegates bowed in turn. Gaius Flavius, the head delegate, taking a deep breath, walked up to the queen, bowed to her again and, through an interpreter, presented her with his gift. This was an ornately carved box, made of African ebony. Marcus had no idea what they had brought and carefully watched the queen's reaction as she opened it up. As she pulled out the contents, a subdued gasp went up from the audience. It was a length of woven silk, in imperial reddish purple, but interwoven with fine gold thread. The queen's eyes opened up. She was obviously impressed. Whoever had chosen it in Rome had done a good job and knew what would appeal to a woman. "I thank you for your generous gift," she announced. Her voice was strong and clear. "Whoever thought of that did a good job," muttered the centurion. "Her majesty likes it." The second delegate, Decimus Metullus, came forward and bowed too as he presented her with his gift. This was a small glass flask. Its surface shimmered with a reddish iridescence that matched the color of the previous gift. Marcus recognized it as a brilliant piece of the glass workers' art. The queen, impressed, held it up and turned it slowly. "That is beautiful," she said. "I thank you." "Queen Silene, may it please you to open it!" suggested the delegate. She raised her eyebrows but she carefully eased off the glass stopper. Her eyes opened wider when she put her nose to the neck of the flask. "This gift is quite overwhelming," she said. "It gives me great pleasure. " Marcus got a slight whiff of the exotic perfume. It was a magnificent example of a perfumier's creation. The third delegate, Titus Clodius, had brought a mirror. When the queen turned it round Marcus saw it was made of a silvery polished metal. The queen looked into it and smiled. She even turned and lifted her head slightly, the better to examine herself. So she had a touch of vanity too, he thought. Could he use this? The last delegate was Servius Didius. Like the others, he bowed to the queen and handed her his gift. All gasped when they saw it, a golden ring set with a large red stone. "Good choice," muttered Marcus. "Its redness matches the color of her gown and even her red lips. I see she uses cosmetics extensively." "The red color is maybe a coincidence", said the centurion, "but I suspect they got word from spies that the queen is partial to that color." Marcus approved of the choice of gifts. They were typical of the luxuries that Rome could supply. All that was needed now for profitable trade was for the queen, followed by her subjects, to develop a taste for them. "I thank you very much for these gifts. Please tell the Roman Senate that I am very pleased and I will not be ungrateful. Now, Gaius Flavius, I see you have others in your party. Who are they?" Gaius was slightly taken aback. He had not expected the queen to pay attention to the others in the party but he recovered, and motioned for the centurion and Marcus to come forward. "This is centurion Quintus Lucullus Sentio. He is commander of the small party of men we brought for security along the way, before we reached your hospitable shores. He and his small force are Roman veterans." Marcus kept his face impassive, but Gaius was letting the queen know that they had a trained experienced force. "I am pleased to meet you, centurion. Your party need have no fear here. We already have a well trained army quickly available for the protection of any of our honored visitors." Marcus smiled inwardly at her comment too. She was telling Gaius in turn that she had competent soldiers around in case the Romans started any trouble. She was giving as good as she got. This woman was more than just a figurehead. The queen shifted her eyes to Marcus. "And who is the young man?" Marcus was slightly startled, as he had not been expecting to be noticed, but if he wanted to get his presence known this was a good opportunity. Gaius mouthed 'careful' to him, led him forward and Marcus bowed deeply to the Queen. She acknowledged him with just the slightest of inclination of her head. Her eyes were dark brown and penetrating. She was queen and knew her power, Marcus thought, as he bowed. "Please, your majesty, I am Marcus Decius Lucius. I am not the same rank as these honorable visitors. I just asked to accompany them to get some knowledge of your beautiful kingdom and its people. I come in the expectation of good relations between your kingdom and Rome, when trade will start and flourish. You see, I am a businessman and the son of the owner of one of the largest trading concerns in the Roman Empire. I also have much experience in trade and I hope it can be established to our mutual benefit." "I have heard of the trading house of Junius Decius. So what kind of trade does that house deal in, Marcus Decius?" "Oh, livestock, grain and other food for settlements further along the coast, metals, and timber, majesty." Marcus thought it better not to mention that slaves were a good item of trade. "What can Rome offer us?" "We can offer items such as your majesty has just been given. Thus you have seen some of the goods that Rome can produce. Rome has experienced smiths, metal and leatherworkers. It is also the home to skilled winemakers." "Ah yes, I have tasted some of your wines. They are very palatable. Then we shall see what happens when we start trade." She looked back to the chief delegate. It looked like a good start but it was obvious Marcus was being dismissed and he bowed to her. Inwardly he felt like shouting with pleasure. It looked as if Silene would welcome trade. His father would be pleased. Marcus thought that the visit had gone quite well. Maybe at first the Genorians had been a little suspicious of the Romans, although not hostile. Now it looked as if friendly relations were off to a good start. Back in her quarters, Silene discussed the meeting with Hermia." I can see that trade would be successful. There would certainly be a market for Roman goods here of the quality of the presents they gave me. That young man, Marcus Decius, the trader, will be one to watch. He looks keen, shrewd too. I didn't see Melanthe there with him." "She's probably been ordered to stay on the ship. I caught a glimpse of her on the ship when they landed. I'd like to hear what she has to say, but we can hardly go asking for her. I'll give a formal invitation to Marcus to start trading procedures." Melanthe saw that Marcus was in a good mood when he reembarked, but it was not her place to make a comment. She did not know Latin so she could not say definitely how the delegates felt but they appeared happy too. As she had not been allowed off the galley she could not report to Hermia. She looked at her clothing. It would not have been suitable for going to the city a