The Far Shore Read Free

bent closer to his ear. ‘What happens now?’
    Again, nothing.
    Cassius sighed and glanced at Indavara. ‘You’ve nothing to say either, I suppose?’
    The bodyguard ignored him too.
    ‘By Jupiter,’ said Cassius. ‘I thought you might gradually begin to pick up the concept of polite conversation, but I see all my efforts of the last few weeks have been in vain.’
    Indavara frowned.
    ‘Look at Simo,’ Cassius continued. ‘He’s only a slave but he and I can talk about all manner of things for hours: art, politics, religion. And think about where we are – a mountain kingdom most people will never have the chance to see. And what we’re doing – playing a part in important affairs of state. Have you no observations, no thoughts to share?’
    Indavara considered this for a moment before replying. ‘Dinner smells good.’
    ‘By the gods.’
    Cassius looked down at the letter in his hand and decided he couldn’t wait any longer. Sweat prickled the skin above his mouth as he scratched away the wax with his fingernails. He felt certain it contained details of his next assignment – what awful mission had Abascantius found for him now? Keeping his hands behind the chair, he unrolled the page and started reading.
    Indavara turned round and inspected the food. There were platters of steaming roasted meat with the fat still sizzling, big wheels of cheese, bowls full of dried fruits and nuts, and silver trays piled high with cakes.
    Argunt, Vyedra and several other grandly-dressed men lined up beside the throne. The room quietened.
    ‘What does it say?’ whispered Indavara, brushing his hair from his face as he looked down at the letter.
    Cassius was smiling. ‘It’s from Master Abascantius. We have been tasked with a simple errand. We’re to journey to the island of Rhodes, pick up some important papers, then return to Antioch.’
    ‘An island?’ said Indavara. ‘Oh no. That means going on a ship.’
    ‘Nothing gets past you, does it?’
    ‘And picking up papers? Sounds even more boring than this job.’
    ‘Nothing wrong with “boring”,’ replied Cassius, rolling up the letter and tucking it behind his belt. ‘Highly underrated.’
    First Minister Vyedra waited until there was absolute silence before he spoke. ‘Assembled guests, esteemed members of the grand council, priests of the High Temple; we gather here in the Great Hall this night to honour our new king.’
    Vyedra paused, and Argunt initiated a long round of applause.
    ‘Blessed are the gods,’ the first minister continued when quiet returned. ‘Blessed are the gods that have delivered his excellency from the jaws of death. Blessed are the gods that smile upon Karanda.’
    At this, two priests opposite the throne (whom Cassius now realised were the pair who’d earlier joined the procession) began an incantation in the local language. When they finished, the assembled city folk answered with a brief affirmation.
    ‘This will take probably go on for hours,’ Cassius whispered, ‘and not even a mouthful of wine yet.’
    Vyedra, Argunt and the others went to stand in front of the table opposite the priests, then turned round.
    ‘Now we welcome him,’ stated Vyedra in the same portentous tone he had adopted throughout. The nobles dropped down on one knee, closely followed by everyone else except the two priests.
    Cassius did so too, prompting Indavara to reluctantly comply.
    Vyedra spoke again: ‘Keeper of the Winter Crown, Guardian of the High Temple, I present to you, his people, King Orycus the Fifth.’
    Cassius and Indavara looked over the edge of the table as Orycus entered. The two guards flanking him took up positions on either side of the door. The king was wearing a long, purple cloak with a gem-studded silver crown nestling in his curly hair. Strutting slowly, he rounded the throne and stood in front of it.
    ‘Hail, King Orycus!’ roared Vyedra.
    ‘Hail, King Orycus!’ came the reply.
    The new monarch took a step backwards