belt.
He slumped down next to Simo. Stretching out his legs he tried to lie back on the bed but it was too narrow to get comfortable. Simo placed a pillow under his master’s head.
‘Indavara told me what happened, sir. That poor family. It’s beyond belief.’
‘Quite horrible. But applying a little cold logic to the situation, the event itself is actually not that incredible. Can you imagine the number of people someone in Memor’s position might have accused, imprisoned, exiled or had killed over the years?’
The Gaul looked shocked.
‘Come on, Simo. I think you’ve heard enough from me to know that the Service rarely attracts the most wholesome of characters. No, what’s beyond belief is that I should arrive here on Rhodes the day after the murder is committed, thereby ensuring I have to deal with the whole ghastly mess.’
Cassius blew out his cheeks and stared at the ceiling.
‘Perhaps this letter can wait until morning, sir.’
‘
Letters
, actually. No. I shall be busy enough tomorrow. In any case, they’re both finished.’ Cassius tapped his head. ‘I did them on the way back. Only about two hundred words each. We shall be done in an hour.’
‘I take it you’d like me to write, then, sir.’
‘Your handwriting’s better than mine anyway. Ready?’
Simo tested the nib on the writing block. A spot of ink came out. He placed the first of the sheets on the block and raised the pen.
‘Ready, sir.’
IV
Less than an hour after dawn, the Great Harbour was alive with activity. Fishing boats cast off from the quay, stores opened their doors and the locals converged on another freighter that had arrived late the previous evening. Several hours of rain during the night had left puddles on the streets and a clammy cold in the air.
Cassius jumped up on to the sea wall. He looked to the north, towards the Little Harbour, and saw the masts of at least twenty seagoing vessels. Simo was over there somewhere, trying to find ships heading in the right direction. It was unlikely the letters to Abascantius and Chief Pulcher would follow a direct route but – for a fee – a willing captain would deliver them to an army way station and the imperial post would do the rest. Simo had already tried the Great Harbour but of the dozen ships there, eight were now ensconced for the winter, two were undergoing repairs and two were heading in the wrong direction.
Cassius glanced up at the tightly packed buildings on the terraced hillside below the citadel. Clemens was up there somewhere, fetching men from the barracks, and Cassius was impatiently awaiting his return. The optio had sent the message to the magistrate’s office but there was still no reply.
Dropping to the ground, Cassius picked his way through a group of women cleaning up the remnants of yesterday’s market – mostly stinking fish remains and clumps of straw. He found Indavara in the way-station parlour, tearing a corner off a loaf. The still unseen maid had left out some breakfast on the table.
‘Morning,’ said the bodyguard.
‘Unlikely to be a good one, I’m afraid.’
‘We’re off round the ships, then?’
‘Indeed.’ Cassius half filled a mug with wine then topped it up with water.
‘You said there won’t be many on the move this time of year,’ added Indavara. ‘Shouldn’t be that hard.’
‘Yes, but it’s not just the big ships. There are these coasters that make runs to the nearby islands or the mainland – it’s only fifty miles or so to Lycia or Asia Minor. Then there are the other ports on the island – Lindos, for example.’
‘Ah.’
‘But there should be a harbour master around who can help us find out which ships have left and which are about to leave. Hopefully, Simo’s already tracked him down.’
Cassius took a dried fig from a plate.
‘Sir!’
He looked along the corridor to see Clemens waving at him from the road. Behind him were some legionaries.
‘Bring them round to the
He slumped down next to Simo. Stretching out his legs he tried to lie back on the bed but it was too narrow to get comfortable. Simo placed a pillow under his master’s head.
‘Indavara told me what happened, sir. That poor family. It’s beyond belief.’
‘Quite horrible. But applying a little cold logic to the situation, the event itself is actually not that incredible. Can you imagine the number of people someone in Memor’s position might have accused, imprisoned, exiled or had killed over the years?’
The Gaul looked shocked.
‘Come on, Simo. I think you’ve heard enough from me to know that the Service rarely attracts the most wholesome of characters. No, what’s beyond belief is that I should arrive here on Rhodes the day after the murder is committed, thereby ensuring I have to deal with the whole ghastly mess.’
Cassius blew out his cheeks and stared at the ceiling.
‘Perhaps this letter can wait until morning, sir.’
‘
Letters
, actually. No. I shall be busy enough tomorrow. In any case, they’re both finished.’ Cassius tapped his head. ‘I did them on the way back. Only about two hundred words each. We shall be done in an hour.’
‘I take it you’d like me to write, then, sir.’
‘Your handwriting’s better than mine anyway. Ready?’
Simo tested the nib on the writing block. A spot of ink came out. He placed the first of the sheets on the block and raised the pen.
‘Ready, sir.’
IV
Less than an hour after dawn, the Great Harbour was alive with activity. Fishing boats cast off from the quay, stores opened their doors and the locals converged on another freighter that had arrived late the previous evening. Several hours of rain during the night had left puddles on the streets and a clammy cold in the air.
Cassius jumped up on to the sea wall. He looked to the north, towards the Little Harbour, and saw the masts of at least twenty seagoing vessels. Simo was over there somewhere, trying to find ships heading in the right direction. It was unlikely the letters to Abascantius and Chief Pulcher would follow a direct route but – for a fee – a willing captain would deliver them to an army way station and the imperial post would do the rest. Simo had already tried the Great Harbour but of the dozen ships there, eight were now ensconced for the winter, two were undergoing repairs and two were heading in the wrong direction.
Cassius glanced up at the tightly packed buildings on the terraced hillside below the citadel. Clemens was up there somewhere, fetching men from the barracks, and Cassius was impatiently awaiting his return. The optio had sent the message to the magistrate’s office but there was still no reply.
Dropping to the ground, Cassius picked his way through a group of women cleaning up the remnants of yesterday’s market – mostly stinking fish remains and clumps of straw. He found Indavara in the way-station parlour, tearing a corner off a loaf. The still unseen maid had left out some breakfast on the table.
‘Morning,’ said the bodyguard.
‘Unlikely to be a good one, I’m afraid.’
‘We’re off round the ships, then?’
‘Indeed.’ Cassius half filled a mug with wine then topped it up with water.
‘You said there won’t be many on the move this time of year,’ added Indavara. ‘Shouldn’t be that hard.’
‘Yes, but it’s not just the big ships. There are these coasters that make runs to the nearby islands or the mainland – it’s only fifty miles or so to Lycia or Asia Minor. Then there are the other ports on the island – Lindos, for example.’
‘Ah.’
‘But there should be a harbour master around who can help us find out which ships have left and which are about to leave. Hopefully, Simo’s already tracked him down.’
Cassius took a dried fig from a plate.
‘Sir!’
He looked along the corridor to see Clemens waving at him from the road. Behind him were some legionaries.
‘Bring them round to the
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