“And I have very little,” said the Emperor; “just enough to imagine a better way of disburdening you and of disposing of Almo than banishing him would be. The lad is far too good to be wasting his time with the horse-jockeys and charioteers and ostlers of the Greens, or brutalizing himself with the companionship of ruffianly prize-fighters, belonging to this or that speculator in the flesh of ferocious savages. He must find some outlet for his energies and interests and is carried away by the fashionable mania, which is corrupting our whole population, especially our young nobles, and which, even at his tender age, fills the thoughts of my son, to the despair of his tutors.
“All Almo needs is worthy occupation. I’ll put the sea between him and you and so put your mind at rest. I’ll make a man of him at the same time. I’ll appeal to his pride and his patriotism. Rome needs such keen-minded, capable youths on the frontiers. I’ll not give him too hard or too unpleasant employment, not relegate him to Britain or Dacia or Syria. I’ll send him to Africa to chase the desert nomads who are harrying the borders of Numidia and Mauretania. He can gain credit there without danger, can learn to command men and to know the great game of war. Nepte and Bescera are pleasant little cities—he will be comfortable between campaigns. I’ll see he sets out the day after to-morrow, at latest.”
CHAPTER XI - FAREWELL
Two days later, Brinnaria had a visit from Flexinna. Flexinna’s eyes were dancing.
“G-G-Guess where I’ve been,” she challenged.
“I’m not good at guessing,” Brinnaria parried; “better tell me.”
“I’ve b-b-been to the Palace,” Flexinna revealed.
“What took you there?” Brinnaria queried, surprised.
“I was sent for,” Flexinna declared, elated.