demanded the commander of the detachment at the west gate of Tarsus. “Dis-mount, dammit.” “Hey, you’re not checking them,” said Gaius. He waved toward the stream of traffic into the city. Sestius was already off his donkey. He grimaced, only partly at his stiffness from the ride. It was for Perennius to say, “Gaius, let me handle this.” He walked over to the officer. The agent’s hand was in his purse. The ride on a donkey’s narrow back had left Sestius with a limp. Perennius could imagine what similar punishment would have done to him. Instead of riding, the agent had walked, leading his donkey. The miles had left his wound afire, but they had also worked his thigh to suppleness again. It had been a punishing two days, but now the agent did not limp. Under other circumstances, he might have ridden anyway so as not to delay his companions. Because of Calvus, that question had not arisen. Gaius rode splendidly and loved it. His only objection was that a donkey was not a fit mount for a cavalry decurion.
