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yellow sail of Amur the Hittite?”
    Theseus cupped bronze hands to his face. “This ship is a prize of war,” he returned. “Her captain is the free Achean,Captain Firebrand. He sails to Crete, with a gift of three black bulls for the Minoan games, and a yellow princess of Cathay to grace the megaron of Minos. But what ship spreads the black sail of Knossos?”
    There was a startled pause before: “This ship,” the officer bellowed, “is the flagship of the north fleet of Minos, who is himself a god and companion of the Dark One, who is also ruler ofCrete and the isles of the sea and the coasts beyond. And her commander is Phaistro, first noble of Knossos and admiral of all the fleets of Minos.”
    The ships touched. A squad of Cretan marines, armed with nets and tridents, leaped to the trader’s deck and made a watchful circle about Theseus. When the ships were lashed, Phaistro himself followed.
    The admiral was tall for a Cretan, but small-bonedand wiry. His swarthy face was thinly aristocratic, almost handsome. Theseus looked at the feeble chin, the full red lips and the dark, sullen eyes. He saw the lines in the face, the nervous tension of the body. For all his passion and his pride, Theseus thought, this man was yet a weakling.
    With a walk that had a certain womanish grace, Phaistro crossed the deck. Theseus caught the perfume ofhis dark hair, which was dressed in the elaborate Cretan fashion, with three coils on the head and three long curls behind.
    The admiral’s attire was rich and almost femininely dainty. His loose ceremonial robe was the purple of his rank. Parted in the front, it showed his tight-drawn golden belt and white linen loincloth. He wore tall, embroidered buskins, and his bare, brown arms were ladenwith gold and silver bracelets.
    Surrounded with a little group of officers, who held ready hands on their swords, the admiral paused before Theseus. His narrow face seemed to reflect a certain unwilling admiration. “So you are the famous Captain Firebrand?”
    “Men call me that,” said Theseus.
    “Then where is your swift galley, that has taken so many prizes?” Suddenly piercing, the dark eyes ofthe admiral studied Theseus. “And where are your reckless men?”
    “Ask your wizards,” Theseus said.
    Phaistro caught his breath, and anger glittered in his eyes. “Where is this ship’s crew?” His voice crackled. “And all the treasure from the north coasts that was aboard? And where are the two royal convoys?”
    Theseus grinned. “The Hittite and his men are safe on the headland behind us,” he said.“As for the treasure and the convoys, ask your wizards again. Or go fishing on the bottom of the sea!”
    The admiral made a sputtering sound, and trembled in the purple robe. “Captain Firebrand”—his voice came tense and sharp—“we have heard of you at Knossos—”
    “—And you’ll hear more,” Theseus promised quietly. “Because I am sailing for Crete, with gifts for Minos.” He nodded at the wild blackbulls in their pen on the deck, at thetall yellow girl by the steering oar. “And I am going to enter the cyclic games,” he said, “as a candidate for the throne of Minos.”
    The admiral stiffened. For a moment he was breathless, his dark eyes wide with astonishment. Then he bent convulsively, and his thin face turned red, and he cackled with shrill laughter. He turned to the Cretan officers abouthim, small dark men with broad leather belts and black loincloths, gasping through his laughter: “The pirate says he is going to enter the games, to seek the throne of Minos. Isn’t that a capital joke?”
    Evidently it was. The officers doubled themselves with merriment—without neglecting, however, to keep watchful eyes on Theseus and ready hands near their swords. At last the admiral sobered histhin face and turned back to Theseus.
    “I’m sure, Captain Firebrand,” he said, weak-voiced from laughter, “that your battles with bulls and men and the gods will make