Macro nodded. 'All the more reason to fight to the last man.'
'No,' Polocrites responded sharply. 'All the more reason to find another way out of the peril we are placed in.' He continued in a crafty tone. 'What if we were to offer to hand over the Romans to Ajax? If we were to co-operate in providing his hostages, then surely he would be grateful to the people of Gortyna for sparing his men the need to assault the city, and saving the rebels the time and effort of mounting a siege.' Polocrites paused briefly, then concluded, 'I think we can make a separate peace with the rebels.'
There was an uncomfortable silence before Macro laughed. 'You cheeky Greek bastard! For a moment there I thought you were serious.'
Polocrites turned to him with a deadpan expression. 'I am serious.'
'No you're not.' Macro smiled. 'Because if you were, that would make you a dirty little back-stabbing traitor. And if that was the case, then I'd have no choice but to cut your throat and hurl your worthless carcass over the city wall and into the ditch for the dogs to feed on.'
'You wouldn't dare,' Polocrites said quietly.
'Sorry' Macro shrugged. 'Like I said, I'd have no choice. It'd be regrettable but necessary. I'm sure you would understand… But since you're having a joke with us, and you really wouldn't even contemplate dishonouring yourself in such a cowardly manner, there's no harm done. Now, you've had your fun. There's no question of surrender, and no question of negotiating with Ajax.' He paused and casually pulled out his dagger, and carefully edged the point under a fingernail to dislodge some dirt. 'I do have that right, don't I?'
The councillors watched Polocrites closely as the man stared at Macro and gauged his chances of escaping the fate Macro had mentioned.
'I'm sorry.' Macro looked up from his manicure.' Did you say something?'
'No.'
Macro frowned and slowly rose from his chair.
'I meant yes.' Polocrites backed off a step.
'Yes?'
'Yes,' Polocrites said hurriedly. 'I was joking.'
'Good.' Macro nodded and carefully replaced his dagger. 'That's that then.'
'Well,' Sempronius cleared his throat uneasily, 'it seems that we are agreed on where we stand, gentlemen. It is important that we present a united front to the defenders and people of Gortyna. There will be no talk of negotiating with the enemy. It is our joint resolve to defend the city, to the end if that is necessary. I trust that is understood by you all. Now, on that note of agreement, I am calling this meeting to an end. Thank you for your attention, and your continued support.' He bowed his head and then indicated the door. Polocrites was the first to leave, sweeping past the others as he strode swiftly out of the room. The rest followed his lead, some shooting nervous glances in Macro's direction as they departed. When the last of them had gone, Sempronius sighed and slumped back down on to his chair.
'Hardly an inspiring display of unity.'
'No, sir.' Macro chewed his lip. 'But I think they'll keep their mouths shut for a little while.'
'I hope so.' Sempronius rubbed his temple and shut his eyes. 'It all comes down to Cato in the end, doesn't it?'
'Yes, you're right.' Macro went over to the window and rested his hands on the frame as he stared out towards the main camp of the rebels. 'I meant what I said about him being the best man for the job.
The trouble is, being the best is not enough sometimes. He's pushed his luck in the past and it won't last for ever.'
'Don't write him off too quickly.' Julia's voice carried across the room.
Both of the men turned and saw her at the door. She stared at Macro for a moment and then made her way down the gap between the benches and sat on the one nearest her father's desk.
'I wasn't writing him off,' Macro explained. 'I'm just concerned for him.'
'We all are,' Sempronius added. 'With good cause. I hope he won't let us down.'
'He won't,' Macro said firmly.
Sempronius turned to his daughter. 'What brings you here?'
'I came to report on the day's food consumption. Your guards said there was a meeting. I waited outside until it was over.'
'I take it you heard everything.'
'Most of it.' Julia nodded. 'Can't say I'm very impressed with the locals. What do you intend to do about them, Father?'
'Do? Nothing. Not unless they start making trouble for us. If that happens, they can join Glabius in the acropolis cells.'
'I'd have that man Polocrites closely watched if I were you.'
'She's right,' said Macro.' The man's trouble. Might be better to lock him up now, before he can spread any more of his poison.'
Sempronius considered the suggestion for a moment before he shook his head. 'We'll leave him be for now. I can't afford to be making enemies inside the city when we have a far greater danger to deal with. We're already in enough peril. Which is why I've come to a decision.' He leaned forward and looked steadily at his daughter. 'I want you to leave Gortyna.'
'Leave?' Julia shook her head in surprise. 'What are you talking about? I'm staying here. With you.'
'That's impossible. It's too much of a risk. There is a good chance that Ajax and his army will take Gortyna. If the city falls, I could not bear the thought of what might happen to you.'
'Father, it's not as if this is the first time we've been under siege.'
'No, but last time I had no option. We were trapped in Palmyra.
There is still time for you to leave Gortyna and make it to the north of the island. You can wait there for news.'
'I will not go,' Julia replied firmly. 'I will stay by your side. I will wait for Cato. And if the city falls, then I will die by my own hand before any of the rebels can touch me. I swear it, Father.'
Sempronius looked pained at her suggestion. He stared at her while he fought with his fear for her safety. 'Julia. You are my only child. You are the most important thing in my life. I cannot let you remain here where your life is in danger.'
'Er…' Macro shuffled awkwardly. 'Would you like me to, ah, leave the room?'
'No,' Sempronius replied. 'Stay'
Julia smiled fondly and reached forward to take his hands. 'Father, I know what I mean to you.'
'No you don't. No child does, not until they have children of their own.'
She returned his gaze for a moment and shook her head sadly. 'I cannot go. I do not want to leave you, and I must be here when Cato returns.'
He leaned wearily back in his chair. 'I have made my decision. You will leave Gortyna.'
Julia glared at him, then lowered her head and stared at her hands.
When she spoke, there was no hiding the strain in her voice. When do you wish me to leave?'
'Tonight. I suspect that Ajax will want to cut the city off the moment he realises that we will not be agreeing to his demands. If you leave under cover of darkness, you can put some miles between you and Gortyna before dawn. I'll send a small escort with you. The rebel scouts will miss you if you go quietly and head north into the hills. Make for Cnossos.' He turned to Macro. 'I want you to pick some good men to escort my daughter from the city.'
'Sir?'
'You are to go with them until they have reached a safe distance from Gortyna. Then you can return here.' A brief look of embarrassment crossed the senator's face. 'I know there's a chance that you might have some trouble getting back, so I won't order you to do this. I ask it as a favour, to a friend.'
'Don't worry, sir,' Macro replied firmly. 'I'm happy to do it. For you, and for Cato.'
'Thank you.' Sempronius stood up and crossed the room to the window, where he clasped Macro's arm. 'You're a good man. One of the best.'
'I said I'd do it, sir. You don't have to go on about it.'
Sempronius laughed. 'Very well. Go now. Take your pick of the men, the best of the horses and enough rations for the journey.
Report back to me as soon as you return.'
'Yes, sir.' Macro nodded, and Sempronius released his arm. As Macro made for the door, Julia s
tepped forward to embrace her father. Sempronius kissed the top of her head. He held her tight for an instant and then let her go. She turned away and hurried from the room without looking back.
Sempronius listened to the light patter of her sandals, soon lost under the harsh clatter of Macro's nailed boots, then both died away as they left the building. He took a deep breath to calm the pain in his heart and gazed out towards the twinkling sprawl of fires that marked the rebel camps.
'Cato, my boy,' he muttered to himself, 'for pity's sake don't fail me now.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
As dawn broke, Yannis woke Cato to point out a trailing column of smoke rising into the sky above the horizon. To their right, the Egyptian coast was two miles off, low-lying and almost feature-less, apart from the occasional cluster of small huts and fishing boats.
They had been sailing along the coast since putting in briefly at Darnis to take on water. There were no roads along the coast and Cato had been advised to continue the journey by sea. Once he had learned the rudiments of sailing, Cato and Yannis had taken it in turns to steer the fishing boat while the other Romans did their best to keep out of the way in the small, cramped and stinking craft. The weather had been fine and a westerly breeze meant that they made good time. There had been no need to put in to land each night after leaving Darnis since the moon had lit their way, sparkling dully off the sea. Even though they had made good progress, Cato was fretful, his mind constantly occupied with concern for his friends back in Gortyna. Indeed, he had been dozing, thinking of Julia, when Yannis had shaken his shoulder gently, and now the fisherman looked amused as Cato stirred, won de ring what he had just muttered.
'Yes, what is it?'
'We're in sight of the lighthouse. I thought you'd want to know.'
Cato scrambled stiffly up from the side of the boat and balanced his feet against its motion as he stood beside Yannis. He saw the column of smoke at once, and the faint gleam of a polished surface at its base.' How far away are we?'
'I've heard that it's possible to see the top of the lighthouse from twenty or thirty miles away. I've been to Alexandria a few times, when I was a soldier. See that sparkle? That's a huge curved piece of brass, regularly polished. By day it reflects the light of the sun, and at night the flames of the fire that burns at the top of the tower.'
Cato had read of the great lighthouse at Alexandria and felt a tingle of excitement at the thought of seeing such an architectural marvel. From what he recalled, the lighthouse was only one of the landmarks of the city founded by the greatest general in history.
Alexandria was also filled with the most brilliant minds in the world, drawn to the vast collection of books in the Great Library. If there was time, Cato firmly resolved to see something of the city.
With a full sail bulging under the pressure of a stiff breeze, the fishing boat surged across the swell, and as the sun climbed into the sky, the other Romans stirred and watched the distant structure slowly crawl above the curve of the horizon. The hours passed and Cato pulled on his felt cap and tipped the fringe down to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. By noon the port itself was clearly visible, and beyond, the vast expanse of the city. At the heart of Alexandria were the various complexes of temples, markets, palaces and the Great Library, huge edifices worthy of a city that had a population almost as great as that of Rome. Yannis pointed out the two harbours, the nearest of which had to be approached cautiously due to the dangerous shoals and rocks that lined its entrance. Scores of ships lay at anchor, or moored to the quay, where a multitude of tiny figures laden with cargo toiled between the ships and the long row of warehouses that faced the wharf.
Yannis steered the boat around Pharos island towards the second, smaller harbour. It was only as they approached the lighthouse built on to the end of the island that Cato fully appreciated the scale of the structure, built on the orders of the second Ptolemy. A vast square base with walls and low towers served as the platform for the main tower, which soared into the sky, over four hundred feet in height.
The first level was square, pierced with rows of windows. Above it was an eight-sided section leading up to the final, smallest level, which was round. The fire was housed in the upper floors of the highest level, and above that gleamed the huge brass reflector. There was a tiny flurry of white specks swirling about the top of the lighthouse as one of its keepers hurled scraps of food to the gulls.
Cato and the other Romans were stunned by the building. In all their lives they had seen nothing to compare to it, not even in Rome, with all its grand buildings. Yannis laughed at their awed expressions.
'Some what humbling, isn't it? Not so sure that Rome is the centre of the world any more?'
'I had no idea it was as magnificent as this,' Cato admitted.' How on earth could they have built it?'
He had been raised with the idea of Roman omnipotence. Rome was the greatest city, its people the greatest race, and its gods were the most powerful. He had not been fool enough to take this smugness at face value, but he had travelled the empire from Britain to Palmyra and seen nothing to compete with the magnificence of Rome. Until now.
The boat passed the end of Pharos island and a short while later Yannis altered course and headed into the port that opened out beyond the lighthouse. The wind was now abeam the fishing boat, and it heeled as Yannis adjusted his mainsheets. The main concentration of shipping was over to the right, and Cato saw a fleet of large vessels heading directly for them. Yannis altered course to avoid them.
'The grain fleet,' he explained.
Cato nodded as he examined the vessels more closely. They were built like the Horus, but on a larger scale, with high sides that bulged outwards. A purple pennant rippled from the top of each mast. He watched them as they sailed past with almost stately grace, as the faint swell had almost no effect on them. Each vessel was filled with grain destined for Rome, where it would feed the common people for the next four months while the fleet returned to Alexandria for the next consignment. Ever since the Emperor Augustus had finally annexed Egypt and made it into a Roman province, the fertile fields watered by the great river Nile had be come the breadbasket of Rome.
Unfortunately the mob had come to rely on the free handout, and successive emperors had not dared to put an end to the dole, no matter how much gold it cost them.
The courses of the fleet and the fishing boat diverged as Yannis steered the craft towards a small port at the base of the peninsula that protected the harbour. A fleet of Roman warships lay at anchor in the sheltered waters, and beyond them steps and ramps rose up from the sea towards a large palace complex.
'That's the old royal port,' said Yannis. And the palaces built by the Ptolemies. Except for that building to the right. That's the Great Library.'
Cato looked towards the building Yannis had mentioned. He had assumed that it was yet another palace, but now that he looked more closely he could see a steady stream of people moving in and out of the vaulted entrance. More were visible on the balconies on the upper floors, scanning racks of scrolls or talking in small groups.
As the fishing boat approached one of the ramps that emerged from the sea, Yannis uncleated the mainsheets and thrust them into the hands of two of Cato's men. 'Let them go the moment I say'
He judged the approach carefully, and when the boat was no more than fifty feet from the shore he called out, ' Now '
The sail flapped up and billowed freely in the wind, and the fishing boat rapidly lost way through the water. Just before it grounded, Yannis heaved on the steering oar and the craft surged round and bumped gently on the stone ramp a short distance below the surface. Their arrival had been noticed by some of the sentries guarding the steps up to the palace, and a section of legionaries led by an optio came marching down the ramp.
'What's all this then?' the optio called out. 'You gypos know you ain't allowed to land here. Off limits. Military only, so piss off.'
Cato felt his temper rise. After eight mostly
sleepless days of being confined to the small fishing boat, he was desperate to be on dry land again. He was about to tear a strip off the optiofor insubordination when he realised that he was so tired he was not thinking clearly. His clothes, and those of his men, were grimy, and they had not shaved since leaving Gortyna. It was no wonder the optio had mistaken them for common fishermen.
'What are you waiting for?' The optiofolded his arms. 'Get lost before I have the lads give you a good hiding.'
Cato cleared his throat. 'A word to the wise, Optio. Best to check the lie of the land before you blunder into it. I'm Tribune Quintus Licinius Cato, and these men are my escort.'
The optio's eyes narrowed as he scrutinised the bedraggled men standing in the boat. He shook his head. 'Bollocks you are.'
Cato reached down for his leather tube, pulled the lid off and took out his letter of commission, signed and sealed by Sempronius. Read it.'
The optio glanced at the sea lapping a short distance from his boots and shook his head.' No, you bring it here. Just you mind. Those others stay in the boat for now.'
Cato eased himself over the side and splashed down into the knee-deep water. He surged ashore and thrust the letter at the optio.
The other man took the document, unrolled it and scanned the contents for a moment before he looked warily at Cato. 'Tribune Cato?'
'That's what it says. I have to see Legate Petronius immediately'
'Now just wait a minute, sir. What is going on?'
Cato fixed him with a firm stare and there was iron in his tone when he replied. 'Optio, do I really have to explain myself to you?'
The optio chewed his lip a moment and then saluted. 'Sorry, sir. I am at your command.'
'That's better. Now, I want my men fed and rested. Have your section look after them. You will take me to the legate.'
The optio nodded, then detailed his companions to help secure the boat and escort the arrivals to the garrison's barracks. He turned back to Cato and bowed his head. 'If you'd follow me, sir.'
He led Cato up the ramp and through a towering arch decorated with a frieze of Egyptian deities. On the far side was a large courtyard with an elegant colonnade running around three sides. Opposite the arch, a hundred paces away, a wide flight of steps rose up to the entrance of the main palace. A section of legionaries stood outside, shields and javelins grounded as they took their watch in the blazing sunshine. Another arch to the right opened out on to a busy thoroughfare of considerable breadth that was thronged with people and pack animals. The din of the street was partly muted by the colonnade, but even so, the hubbub of a teeming population reminded Cato of Rome.
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