The Far Shore (7 page)

Annia didn’t reply. As he reached the portico, Cassius heard her strike the bench.

Half an hour later, he stood with Indavara and Trogus by the front door as the men filed through the gate and up to the villa. The sun was setting now, deep orange colouring the towers and roofs of the high citadel to the north.

Indavara had just returned from checking the rest of the villa. He’d established that there were indeed numerous ways to approach the building from the rear, but with all the doors locked it would have been extremely difficult to get inside.

As the men came to a halt, the surgeon – a balding, well-attired fellow – hurried forward. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t turn up anything useful myself, but I believe some of the men have information to report. I must see how Mistress Leonita is.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Trogus.

As the surgeon went inside, Cassius turned to the men. ‘Now, if you think you’ve heard something of interest, raise your hand. Do not worry about whether a matter seems trivial. I shall decide what is important or relevant.’

Of the eleven male staff, five raised their hands.

Cassius started with the man furthest to the left, an aged individual with striking white hair. ‘You first.’

‘Sir, a lady in one of the villas opposite said she’d seen two strangers loitering by the gate three days ago – they were there for more than an hour.’

‘Did you get a description?’ asked Cassius.

‘She only saw them from—’

Trogus interrupted. ‘They were tradesmen with an appointment to see me. We had guests so I had to keep them waiting. Men of good repute.’

The old servant bowed. ‘My apologies, Steward.’

‘Not necessary,’ said Cassius. ‘That’s exactly the type of thing I want to hear about. Next.’

A younger man wearing a leather apron over his tunic spoke up.

‘Esdras the shepherd saw a group of men out by the lake last week. Said they looked like thieves.’

Another of the men interjected: ‘Sir, Esdras thinks everyone looks like thieves.’

Cassius considered what Annia had told him about her father’s daily walks. ‘You’re quite right to mention it, but given the circumstances of the murder, it’s probably not relevant.’

He pointed at the third man. ‘You.’

‘Sir, it’s something I saw myself.’

‘Go on.’

‘I took a cart into town yesterday to buy some tiles. Coming round a bend about a half-mile out of the village I nearly ran over this man on foot. He was almost in the middle of the road. I gave him a right mouthful but he didn’t say a word – just kept walking. Had this big sack over his shoulder.’

‘What did you see of him?’ asked Cassius.

‘Not a lot, sir. He was wearing a hooded cloak. There was quite a wind blowing.’

Trogus came close to Cassius and whispered to him: ‘I don’t mean to make up your mind for you, sir, but Cimber there rather likes the sound of his own voice – I knew he would come out with something. The Via Alexandria is the main road to the south of the island, including Lindos. Travellers from the port come through Amyndios almost every day.’

‘One other thing, sir,’ volunteered Cimber, raising a hand. ‘He had on a nice pair of leather boots.’

‘So?’ said Cassius.

‘I noticed because they didn’t seem to go with his cloak – tatty thing. And that old sack too. Nice pair of boots they were. Shiny and new.’

‘All right – who’s next?’

The fourth member of the staff to speak was a lad of about fourteen. ‘Sir, some of the women down at the tannery were talking about a girl who was in the village this week. She came past several times and seemed very interested in the villa. Apparently she was asking about Master Memor – whether he was currently in residence or not.’

‘Description?’ asked Cassius.

‘She was about twenty, sir. Long, curly hair. Very pretty they said.’

‘They didn’t recognise her?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Officer Corbulo,’ said Trogus, ‘could I speak to you for a moment?’

Cassius followed the steward, who didn’t stop until he’d reached the edge of the orchard, well away from both the men and the villa.

‘What is it?’

The steward scratched at his beard with his fingernails. ‘Sir, I must ask that this matter remain between us.’

‘Of course. Hurry up, man.’

‘About three years ago, Master Memor had a brief affair with one of the serving girls: Aelia was her name. Long, curly hair. Very, very pretty. She began to believe the relationship was more than it was. She became rather unstable – threatened to tell Mistress Leonita of my master’s indiscretions. Of course we had to let her go but she didn’t take it well. Eventually Ligur and I had to pack up her things and escort her off the property. We pretended she’d been caught stealing. I gave her some money to disappear. Luckily the ladies of the house knew nothing of the truth.’

‘And what?’ demanded Cassius. ‘You’re not seriously suggesting that this girl returned three years later to wreak her revenge; visited the villa in the depths of the night, slashed the throat of an ex-legionary twice her size, then beheaded Master Memor.’

‘I know it sounds ridiculous, sir, but that’s not all. She left Rhodes shortly after she left here, but I heard a while ago that she’d returned to the island. She could be rather wild – always falling out with the other girls. Terrible temper.’

‘Trogus, it’s simply not possible.’

‘Please, sir, I’ve not finished. I just remembered – how she stuck out when the girls were sat in a row weaving. She was left-handed.’

Cassius, who had bowed his head while listening to Trogus, straightened up and beckoned to Indavara. As he jogged towards them, Trogus continued:

‘Sir, if this matter were to come out—’

‘Yes, yes. I know.’

‘What is it?’ asked Indavara.

‘Could a woman have carried out the killings?’

The bodyguard’s disbelieving grin faded quickly when he saw Cassius was serious. ‘It’s possible, I suppose. The way it was done needed more skill than strength. Would explain the height difference.’

Cassius turned to Trogus. ‘Do you know where she might be?’

‘Her family were from Birrenia – a village about ten miles away.’

The steward scratched at his beard again and stared out at the road. ‘By Jupiter, can it really be?’

‘We don’t know anything for certain yet,’ warned Cassius.

‘Shall I have your horses fetched, sir?’ asked Trogus.

‘Do so.’

The steward hurried back to the men and sent off two of the stable lads. The others were left standing in a line, whispering to one another.

‘A woman? Really?’ said Indavara quietly as he and Cassius returned to the front door.

‘I know, but what else do we have to go on?’

Cassius addressed the men again: ‘There was one more hand up. Who’s yet to speak?’

One of the big labourers who’d appeared earlier with Annia stepped forward. ‘Me, sir. It’s not about a stranger or anything, I just thought it was odd.’

‘Speak.’

‘I saw old Astrah just now, a priest from the Temple of Dionysus. I said nothing of the murder but he asked if all was well at the house. He saw Master Memor last night and said he hadn’t seemed quite himself.’

‘I know Astrah,’ added Trogus. ‘Friendly old boy. Master Memor knew him too.’

‘What did he mean “not himself”?’ Cassius asked the labourer.

‘Astrah was on his way home from closing up the temple – about the third hour of night. He saw Master Memor in the garden. He hailed him but Master Memor just raised a hand and continued up to the house.’

Frowning, Cassius turned to Trogus. ‘You said he often worked through the night, but why would he be outside? Might he have been preoccupied or concerned about something?’

‘It’s possible, sir. He did sometimes take a glass of wine and a walk in the orchard, but never at night. He had the courtyard next to his study if he wanted some air.’

‘A meeting perhaps? This girl even.’

Trogus shrugged.

The labourer came closer. ‘Sir, Astrah mentioned something even stranger. He said Master Memor was in full uniform – helmet, crest, everything.’

‘What?’ said Trogus.

‘That’s impossible,’ said another of the servants. ‘Master’s metal is all with me. I cleaned and oiled it yesterday. It’s still in my cupboard.’

‘By the gods, it was
him
,’ said Cassius. ‘The old priest thought it was Memor but it was
him
.’ He pointed at Cimber, the man who’d spoken earlier. ‘The hooded stranger
he
saw yesterday. That’s what he was carrying in the sack; that’s why he had those boots on; and that’s why Ligur let him in. The bastard was dressed as a centurion.’

Two hours after sunset, they arrived back at the way station. Following the sea wall across the harbour, they heard the songs and laughter of merry sailors. The choppy water bumped the vessels tied to the quay and the wind rattled rigging and rope. Unfortunately, the onshore breeze wasn’t quite strong enough to do away with the odour of rotting fish.

Cassius and Indavara led the horses along a narrow alley and into the small courtyard between the way station and the stables. A bleary-eyed Optio Clemens appeared from the rear door, holding a lantern. Cassius told him he needed to speak with him at once. While the optio summoned the legionary to deal with the horses, Cassius and Indavara went in to the little parlour.

Simo had a pan of warm wine ready. He greeted the returning pair and poured each of them a generous measure.

‘Nice stuff, this, sir. A local concoction – I believe there’s myrrh in it.’

Cassius took a long sip.

Simo examined his face. ‘Are you all right, sir?’

‘No, Simo, I’m not. I trust my bed’s ready?’

‘Of course, sir.’

‘Prepare my writing materials. Best ink and paper.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Simo hurried away.

‘Need me?’ asked Indavara.

‘No, go ahead.’

The bodyguard took his wine with him.

‘Well, sir?’ asked Clemens as he returned to the parlour.

Cassius gestured to the bench in front of the hearth. They sat down and he described what had occurred in Amyndios. Clemens looked aghast when he heard the grisly details and seemed stunned that such a thing could occur on the island.

Cassius instructed him to send a message to the magistrate, enquiring about what action he had taken so far and suggesting that he prevent any seagoing ships from leaving the port. Clemens was also to gather every available soldier and bring them to the way station. As was his right, Cassius intended to requisition the troops for as long as he needed them. All this was to be carried out within the first hour of the day.

‘How many legionaries will you be able to get?’ Cassius asked.

‘Only my century – the Fifth – is permanently stationed in the city, sir. The barracks are close to the citadel but most of them are away rebuilding a bridge down in Camiros. Perhaps a dozen or so.’

‘And the magistrate? How many sergeants does he have?’

‘Quite a few, but I wouldn’t rely on too much cooperation from that quarter.’

‘Why not?’

‘The magistrate is elected by the people; a sop to the Rhodian Assembly. His name is Nariad. Well connected but rather ineffectual, and he’s not known for considering demands from the army a priority.’

‘We’re talking about the murder of the Service’s second in command. He is bound by imperial law to assist me.’

‘Fair enough, sir. It’s just that the locals think a little differently here. They’re very fond of reminding us that Rhodes was a naval power before we knew one end of a ship from the other. I’ve had half a dozen different postings in my time and, believe me, it’s not your typical province.’

‘Well, as long as I can depend on you and your men. I shall give detailed instructions in the morning.’

‘Sir.’ Clemens laid his hands across his ample gut and stared into the burning coals of the fire. ‘Beheaded. By Mars.’

‘You’ve not heard of any disputes involving Memor?’

‘Not one. As I said, we hardly ever saw him unless he was leaving or returning. He used to send one of his men to collect the post. He always seemed a decent enough sort to me.’

‘Even for a “grain man”?’