The Far Shore Read Online Free PDF Page A

swordfish,’ replied Cassius.
    ‘Quite right, sir,’ said Simo. ‘Very tasty with some lemon and a few herbs.’
    ‘Perhaps we can get some for dinner,’ said Cassius, heading across the road to the way station with something of a spring in his step. Cilicia had been difficult and tiring, the sea crossing equally arduous, and he was glad both were behind him. He’d always hoped to visit Rhodes at some point in his life and it felt good to be in a new city, hopefully with a little time to explore.
    The way station was marked by a solid bronze plaque engraved with the legend ‘SPQR’. Without being told, Simo retrieved Cassius’s ceremonial spearhead from a saddlebag and handed it to him.
    ‘Wait here a moment,’ he told the others as he hurried inside. Ahead of him was a long corridor. Immediately to the right was a shadowy room where a young clerk sat slumped at an empty desk. He had clearly been dozing but stood up with creditable speed as Cassius strode in.
    ‘Officer Corbulo.’
    ‘Yes, sir. Good afternoon, sir.’
    The clerk – who was no more than sixteen – looked at the three-foot spearhead, which identified Cassius as a member of a governor’s staff. The fact that the title engraved on the badge was that of the Governor of Syria was irrelevant; any man in possession of a spearhead was considered to be of a rank equivalent to a centurion.
    Cassius heard someone marching down the corridor towards them.
    ‘I require lodgings for three,’ he told the clerk, removing his helmet. ‘Tonight and possibly longer. Is there space here?’
    ‘Er, yes, sir. Yes, that should be fine.’
    ‘Afternoon, sir.’
    Cassius turned to find a broad, middle-aged soldier behind him.
    ‘Optio Clemens, sir. The lad will go and get the maid to prepare those rooms for you.’
    The clerk warily rounded them and jogged along the corridor. Clemens glanced at the spearhead. ‘Might I ask why you’re here, sir?’
    ‘I’m with Imperial Security,’ Cassius replied, smoothing down his hair. ‘Here to see Master Augustus Marius Memor. Can you direct me to his villa?’
    Not many people would have noticed the subtle change in Clemens’s expression once he heard the young officer before him was a ‘grain man’. Legionaries generally maintained a dim view of the Service, believing it to be a corrupt organisation full of liars and thieves not courageous or honourable enough for real soldiering. Cassius did notice.
    ‘I can,’ Clemens answered evenly. ‘He likes to keep himself to himself as a rule – for obvious reasons. We get plenty of post for him.’
    ‘Nothing for me, by the way?’
    ‘No, sir.’
    Apart from accommodating and assisting army officers, the key function of a way station was to facilitate the delivery of the imperial post.
    ‘Here, sir, I can show you the way?’
    Clemens reached under the desk and pulled out a roll of thick paper. ‘You came in on that freighter, I presume?’
    ‘Indeed.’
    Clemens gestured towards the grilled window. ‘This is known as the Great Harbour. The one to the north is the Little Harbour, though they’re actually about the same size now.’
    Clemens pointed at the map. ‘The road out front runs all the way along the sea wall. Follow it to the east. Then, when you reach the edge of the harbour here, turn south – inland along the Via Alexandria. You’ll eventually reach the village of Amyndios about here. Memor’s place is a hundred yards short of the square. There’s no plaque on the gate but it’s the biggest villa there and has an orchard of peach trees.’
    ‘How far?’
    ‘Four miles or so.’
    ‘How many hours of light left?’
    Clemens hurried to the doorway and looked out. ‘Perhaps three.’
    The optio glanced at the others and the pile of bags.
    ‘We’ll need some horses,’ said Cassius, now behind him in the corridor.
    ‘Let’s get your men and your gear inside, sir, then I’ll take you through to the stables.’

    Leaving Simo to settle in,