No trireme escort this time.
One ship. Small, fast, the kind built for distance rather than impression. It came into the harbor on a Tuesday morning and docked without ceremony and the man who came off it walked to the palace gate alone.
Fylon brought word at the second hour.
"Mycenaean vessel. One passenger. He is asking for the diplomatic channel."
"His rank."
"He presented credentials as a court secretary. Below Pelonides. Above a commercial representative."
"A message carrier," Lysander said.
"Yes."
'No escort,' Lysander thought. 'No protocol. A court secretary rather than a senior official. He is not here to negotiate or assess. He is here to deliver something and leave.'
"Bring him to the formal receiving room. Tell Ampelos. Tell Hector."
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