The Far Shore by Nick Brown Page B

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,