Glory

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Castus kept his eyes on the far wall, where a pair of painted peacocks stood beneath an arch of flowering trees. Good shoes can be bought. Didn’t you evenlisten to that panegyric yesterday? He knew that he must smell strongly Glory stale sweat, horse, the dust and mud of the road. Castus stamped after him, and the agent paused and glanced back with a baffled smile. Nobody of her class had ever really addressed him before – it was quite fascinating, he had to admit. Outside the southern gate of the city the road was a mire of mud and dung, and within a mile Glory rain started falling again. Again that prickle of apprehension, more insistent now. Castus knew all too well the solitary burden of authority; he had Glory forgotten the words glory old centurion had told him once. Then she moved towards the door, her entourage of ladies, eunuchs and slaves swirling in her wake. It was small, a closed box of latticesided wood mounted high on a wagon chassis. They Glory, eyes to the floor, while the two men on the dais inspected them.