“Not so, Augusta.  I should only think much worse of you than ever I did before.  If these great persons were traitors to the State, they should have been executed.  But to torment them, to take away the sight of heaven and to bring them to the level of dumb beasts, all that their actual blood may not be on the tormentors’ hand—­why, the act is vile.  So, at least, it would be held in those northern lands which you are pleased to call barbarian.”

Now Irene sprang from her seat and clapped her hands for joy.

“You hear what he says, Martina, and the Emperor shall hear it too; aye, and so shall my ministers, Stauracius and Aetius, who supported him in this matter.  I alone withstood him; I prayed him for his soul’s sake to be merciful.  He answered that he would no longer be governed by a woman; that he knew how to safeguard his empire, and what conscience should allow and what refuse.  So, in spite of all my tears and prayers, the vile deed was done, as I think for no good cause.  Well, it cannot be undone.  Yet, Olaf, I fear that it may be added to, and that these royal-born men may be foully murdered.  Therefore, I put you in charge of the prison where they lie.  Here is the signed order.  Take with you what men you may think needful, and hold that place, even should the Emperor himself command you to open.  See also that the prisoners within are cared for and have all they need, but do not suffer them to escape.”

I saluted and turned to go, when Irene called me back.

At that moment, too, in obedience to some sign which she made, Martina left the chamber, looking at me oddly as she did so.  I came and stood before the Empress, who, I noted, seemed somewhat troubled, for her breast heaved and her gaze was fixed upon the floor now.  It was of mosaic, and represented a heathen goddess talking to a young man, who stood before her with his arms folded.  The goddess was angry with the man, and held in her left hand a dagger as though she would stab him, although her right arm was stretched out to embrace him and her attitude was one of pleading.

Irene lifted her head, and I saw that her fine eyes were filled with tears.

“Olaf,” she said, “I am in much trouble, and I know not where to find a friend.”

I smiled and answered: 

“Need an Empress seek far for friends?”

“Aye, Olaf; farther than anyone who breathes.  An Empress can find flatterers and partisans, but not a single friend.  Such love her only for what she can give them.  But, if fortune went against her, I say that they would fall away like leaves from a tree in a winter frost, so that she stood naked to every bitter blast of heaven.  Yes, and then would come the foe and root up that tree and burn it to give them warmth and to celebrate their triumph.  So I think, Olaf, it will be with me before all is done.  Even my son hates me, Olaf, my only child for whose true welfare I strive night and day.”