“Greeting, friends,” he said, and at once there came a rattle of saluting swords and an answering cry of

“Greeting, Augustus!”

“You struck before the time,” went on the thick, boyish voice.  “Yet as things seem to have gone rather well for us, I cannot blame you, especially as I see that you hold fast her who has usurped my birthright.”

Now I heard Irene turn with a swift and furious movement.

“Your birthright, boy,” she cried.  “What birthright have you save that which my body gave?”

“I thought that my father had more to do with this matter of imperial right than the Grecian girl whom it pleased him to marry for her fair face,” answered Constantine insolently, adding:  “Learn your station, mother.  Learn that you are but the lamp which once held the holy oil, and that lamps can be shattered.”

“Aye,” she answered, “and oil can be spilt for the dogs to lap, if their gorge does not rise at such rancid stuff.  The holy oil forsooth!  Nay, the sour dregs of wine jars, the outscourings of the stews, the filth of the stables, of such is the holy oil that burns in Constantine, the drunkard and the liar.”

It would seem that before this torrent of coarse invective Constantine quailed, who at heart always feared his mother, and I think never more so than when he appeared to triumph over her.  Or perhaps he scorned to answer it.  At least, addressing Jodd, he said,

“Captain, I and my officers, standing yonder unseen, have heard something of what passed in this place.  By what warrant do you and your company take upon yourselves to pass judgment upon this mother of mine?  That is the Emperor’s right.”

“By the warrant of capture, Augustus,” answered Jodd.  “We Northmen took the palace and opened the gates to you and your Armenians.  Also we took her who ruled in the palace, with whom we had a private score to settle that has to do with our general who stands yonder, blinded.  Well, it is settled in his own fashion, and now we do not yield up this woman, our prisoner, save on your royal promise that no harm shall come to her in body.  As for the rest, it is your business.  Make a cook-maid of her if you will, only then I think her tongue would clear the kitchen.  But swear to keep her sound in life and limb till hell calls her, since otherwise we must add her to our company, which will make no man merrier.”

“No,” answered Constantine, “in a week she would corrupt you every one and breed a war.  Well,” he added with a boisterous laugh, “I’m master now at last, and I’ll swear by any saint that you may name, or all of them, no harm shall come to this Empress whose rule is done, and who, being without friends, need not be feared.  Still, lest she should spawn more mischief or murder, she must be kept close till we and our councillors decide where she shall dwell in future.  Ho! guards, take my royal father’s widow to the dower-palace, and there watch her well.  If she escapes, you shall die beneath the rods.  Away with the snake before it begins to hiss again.”