by Julian Noyce
Falco saluted. He went over to a group of his men and removed his helmet.
“Here why does he get to sleep and we don’t then eh?” one of the legionaries asked.
“Because he is your commanding officer that’s why.”
“So that gives him the right to sleep while we have to work.”
“You’re having your break now aren’t you?”
“A break? Yes. Squatting here in the dirt. It’s hardly comfortable is it?”
“Then why don’t you try and sleep.”
“I’ve tried but all I get is a crick in my back. Not a nice bench to sleep on like he does.”
Falco cuffed the legionary hard around the ear. He instinctively ducked from the much older, heavier man.
“Do you want to keep your voice down before you’re heard by one of the senior officers.”
“Sorry Falco.”
“That’s centurion to you when the General’s are about and don’t ever complain like that when Caesar’s about or he’ll feed you your balls.”
One of the others winced.
“Or worse.”
“Tell the little pipsqueak what Caesar did to the pirates eh!” an older legionary said.
Falco dipped his mug in a barrel of water drawn from one of the many palace fountains and sat down with his back against the wall. They all faced Falco now. He was renowned for his story telling.
“This was back in the days when Caesar was serving on a naval trireme….”
“Why did he join the navy?”
Falco glared at the youngest legionary under his command. He hated to be interrupted.
“Caesar originally wanted to enter law and politics but there was no money in it. His family of course held sufficient rank but Caesar needed money and lots of it. So he chose a military career. There always being lots of money for a conqueror. The spoils of war young Gaius. You see you even share the forename of our commander.”
“Maybe some day I’ll be as great as Caesar,” Gaius Domitius answered. The other legionaries laughed.
“Do not mock the mighty Caesar young whelp,” Falco said, “Gaius Julius Caesar is the greatest Roman who ever lived.”
“I wasn’t….I wasn’t mocking the General.”
“You had better not be either boy.”
“Leave him alone Falco,” one of the longest serving soldiers said,” Stop bullying the boy long enough to tell the story will you.”
Falco had raised his drink to his lips but he pulled it away again and stared in amazement at the way he’d been spoken to. Then he shrugged, put his cup down and said.
“Very well. I’ll tell you but stop interrupting.”
One of the soldiers grabbed Gaius around the neck in a headlock and clamped his hand over the youth’s mouth.
“He won’t interrupt again. Will you?”
Gaius fought against his opponent who removed his hand.
“No I promise!” the youth shouted.
“Good lad,” the legionary said ruffling the boys hair.
“How did Caesar end up being captured by pirates anyway?”
“If you shut up long enough I’ll tell you. In the autumn of the year of the Gods by our counting, it was twenty seven years ago and Caesar a young man of twenty five. His first wife Cornelia had just given birth to their daughter Julia. Caesar an up and coming politician in Rome had left his household to go to study on the island of Rhodes. But Caesar never made it. Near Miletus, Asia minor, Caesar’s ship was attacked by Cilician pirates. Piracy was rife in the Mediterranean back then. The great Homer, the Greek writer, even mentions piracy in his work the ’Odyssey’. Now, the pirates who captured Caesar’s ship had the usual goods to trade and passengers for the slave markets. Well you can imagine their surprise when suddenly amongst their booty they find themselves with a Roman nobleman. They were used to their captives being afraid and begging for mercy and their lives, but not Caesar. He spent forty days with them while his ransom was being raised. The pirates had originally asked for twenty talents but Caesar, insulted by such a trifling amount, personally raised it to fifty. The pirates were both shocked and amused by his courage. He wrote them poetry and called them illiterate barbarians when they failed to understand it. He also joked that he would return once his ransom was paid and crucify them.”
“What happened? I know Caesar survived, obviously, but how was he saved? Or was the ransom paid?”
This time Falco didn’t mind being interrupted. He himself had been a young recruit once, keen to learn anything and everything about his commanding officers.
“Oh yes the ransom was paid all right. Caesar waved at them from the ship that rescued him to their laughter.”
“And that was it? He just sailed away after giving them a fortune in money?”
“Sailed away yes. But only as far as Miletus. Once there he quickly hired some ships and mercenaries. He caught the pirates while they were still in their lair on board their ships. He got his money back and all their stolen loot. He promptly reminded them of his promise and crucified them but because he liked them and to save them the torture of slow agonising death he had all their throats cut first.”
“Why didn’t he want them to suffer?”
“They had done him no harm personally. He recorded in his records that he found his capture to be a mere hindrance of his personal time, nothing more. It did his political career no harm either. Two years later, aged twenty seven, he became Pontifex.”
“And all was good again was it? For Caesar I mean?”
Falco yawned. He reached for his water.
“What? No! Just then Mithridates rose against Rome and a young gladiator named Spartacus began an uprising.”
“I’d love to hear all about that centurion, sir.”
Falco was still yawning.
“Yes I’m sure you would but some other time. I’m too tired now.”
Falco closed his eyes. Gaius sat where he was musing over what he’d heard. He dreamed of being a General like Caesar. A hero. A hero to Rome. He watched the others as they settled down to get some rest. Falco’s breathing was starting to get heavier as he was rapidly falling asleep. Gaius picked up his cup of water and took a long swig. He swallowed the first of it and felt it burning his throat. Then he tasted the salt and he sprayed himself with it as he spat it out. He threw the cup down as a couple of the legionaries turned to look in his direction.
“What’s the matter with you?” One of the soldiers asked.
Gaius was grimacing while wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
“Like you don’t know!”
“What?”
“One of you lot has put salt in my water. Ha Ha! Very funny.”
Falco opened his eyes.
“Do you want to keep your voices down. Some of us are trying to sleep.”
“It was Gaius.”
“Gaius shut up will you. You’ll get your chance at glory.”
“Great! Now you’ve annoyed him. He’ll probably give us some shitty job to do.”
“Well I couldn’t help it. You lot shouldn’t have put salt in my drink.”
“We didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?”
“Of course I didn’t.”
Falco opened one eye and glared at them.
“Here he’s right,” said one of the others, “My water is salty also.”
The legionary got up and slowly moved towards Falco.
“If someone has done it to him he’ll go bloody mad,” he whispered. He checked in the darkness to see if Falco’s eyes were closed. They were. He reached quietly for the centurion’s mug and brought it slowly towards himself hardly daring to breathe. He looked back at his colleagues. An iron grip suddenly fashioned itself around his arm, crushing his wrist. He let out a yelp of pain.
“What are you doing boy?” the centurion growled.
Falco took the cup and got up, forcing the legionary up with him. The man was trying to prise Falco’s st
eely grip away when the centurion suddenly let go. The legionary was left rubbing his wrist.
“I asked you what you were doing.”
The legionary stopped rubbing his wrist and gestured to his friends.
“Sir. Somebody has spiked our drinks with salt and well, sir, as much as we all enjoy a joke sir we were worried that they’d done it to yours and as we all know…well that would be taking it too far sir,” he swallowed hard, knowing that Falco’s temper was never far under the surface, just waiting to be scratched.
Falco took a mouthful of his water, swilled it around his mouth and spat it out.
“Who did this?”
His voice had become menacing. No one dared move or answer. Falco had been known, legally, to beat soldiers to death.
“I do not need to remind you that water is a precious commodity and that we have to ration it. It is too priceless to waste by accident or practical joke. Now who did this?”
He glowered at his men. Clearly no one was going to own up. Especially not now.
“Very well. In that case you leave me no choice. You are all….” he stopped as the legionary with the crushed wrist stepped forward.
“So it was you Marcus Iunius.”
“No sir. In truth it was none of us.”
“Is that so?”
Falco looked past Iunius as he saw other legionaries who had just received their water ration begin spitting it out and throwing cups to the ground. Two palace servants struggled past carrying a fresh barrel of water.
“Wait!” Falco shouted.
They stopped. He went over to them and dipped his hand into the water which was sloshing from side to side and brought it up to his mouth and tasted it. It was salty. He spat the water out, not concerned that it splashed their feet.
“Where did you draw this water from?” he asked.
Neither of them spoke Latin so they both looked at him puzzled for a moment. Then one of them said something to the other and dipped the ladle into the water and offered it to him. Falco shook his head.
“No! Where?” he pointed at the water then gestured with his arms, “Where?”
The other servant now understood. He pointed across the courtyard, then motioned with his hands a right turn, then a left and then drew a fountain in the air.
“Show me!”
Once again there were blank looks so the huge centurion placed his hand on the mans shoulder, turned him around and pushed him forward.
“Show me!”
This time he understood and he took Falco to the fountain.
“What do you think is happening?” Gaius asked.
“I don’t know,” Marcus Iunius still massaging his wrist answered, “But if it was a practical joke I wouldn’t want to be the bloke who did it. Did you see the look on Falco’s face.”
“Better shut up,” one of the others said, “He’s coming back.”
Falco went straight to Lucius Scato. The two men were in deep conversation.
“Can anyone hear what’s being said?”
“No. They’re too far away. Look at how close they’re standing. Must be so no one can overhear. Falco hates anyone to be close to him.”
“Apart from when he’s shouting at you then he’s right in your face,” someone said.
The legionaries were starting to group together. One soldier came over to Falco’s group.
“Hey Marcus Iunius what’s going on?”
“Publius! We don’t know. Not yet at least.”
“Did your water taste of salt?”
“Yes. Yours?”
“Yes. At first we thought it was a joke.”
“Us too.”
“Here you don’t think it was sabotage do you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“It can’t be the palace servants can it?”
“No. They wouldn’t have the balls.”
Another officer rushed up to Scato and Falco.
“I guess we’re about to find out,” Publius said.
This new officer spoke to Scato and not being careful with his voice the legionaries nearby overheard.
“Did you hear that. All the fountains are contaminated,” one said.
“Does that mean we have no fresh water?” another asked.
“I hope not because we won’t last long trapped in here.”
“Keep your voices down!” a nearby centurion shouted.
“But sir you heard what was being said.”
“Yes I did but until we know for sure there is no need to spread panic.”
“Well there is nothing else I can do,” Scato said, “I’m going to have to tell Sejanus and he’s going to have to tell Caesar.”
“Caesar will have to sort it out. We can’t go on without water,” someone shouted.
“WHO SAID THAT?” Falco roared.
No one came forward.
“It is true sir,” Marcus Iunius said, “We can’t go on.”
“Do you stand alone here Iunius?” Scato asked.
There was a long pause. Then others of Iunius’ group stepped forward.
“I’m with Marcus. We can’t go on without water sir.”
They looked at Gaius Domitius. Slowly he got to his feet. He stepped forward and swallowed hard. It was the bravest thing he’d ever done. Falco stared at him. Gaius couldn’t hold the big man’s gaze. At one point he looked up and Falco half smiled and nodded slowly to him. Then he swung around and in his deep voice, he bellowed.
“Who else among you refuses to carry on without water to drink?”
Slowly legionaries began rising. Falco and Scato looked out over a sea of heads. Now everyone was standing.
Marcus Sejanus suddenly appeared alongside his two officers. The noise of shouting voices had woken him though he hadn’t slept long. He was now rubbing his stiff neck.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Falco and Scato turned to face him.
“Sir I think we have a problem.”
Julius Caesar, Germanicus and his honour guard marched along the corridor from his bedroom. They turned the corner. At the end was Cleopatra’s bedroom. The Egyptian guards stiffened when they saw the Roman party approaching. Apollodorus was with them and he took a step forward ready to greet the Roman General. Caesar’s face remained as it was despite the excitement he felt at seeing the young Queen again. He almost smiled when he first realised that Apollodorus was waiting for him.
‘I like this man,’ he said to himself.
The Roman party stopped five paces away.
“Good evening Caesar,” Apollodorus said with a bow.
“Good evening. Queen Cleopatra sent for me.”
“That was yesterday Caesar.”
“I’ve been busy. Now I need to speak to her about an important matter.”
“I’m afraid the Queen may not be disturbed.”
Julius puffed his chest out.
“I beg your pardon.”
Apollodorus knew that his Latin was near perfect.
“I’m sorry Caesar did I not say it clearly. Queen Cleopatra is not to be disturbed.”
Caesar’s fists were by his sides and he clenched them, trying hard not to lose his temper.
“May I be permitted to know why?”
“She is taking a bath.”
“Taking a bath….” Julius nodded to his guards, “Cease him.”
They rushed Apollodorus and grabbed his arms.
“Don’t hurt him. Don’t struggle Apollodorus. I’m sorry that this was necessary. But it was obvious that you weren’t going to grant me access.”
Apollodorus struggled against the iron hands holding him.
“I was just doing my job Caesar.”
“As you always do and well.”
Julius looked at the two Egyptian guards in their white kilts with their spears. They were both a head taller than the Roman. He put his hand on one of the large door handles and pushed the door open a notch.
“Gentlemen if you’ll permit me?”
&nb
sp; The two guards moved silently out of the way. He turned to his own guards still holding Apollodorus.
“You may release him. I won’t keep your Queen for long Apollodorus.”
The door closed with a quiet click. Once inside he realised he was in a long hall with rooms branching off on both sides. The walls were covered in Egyptian art. A statue of the Pharaoh Ramses the great dominated the centre of the floor. Large terracotta pots were placed at intervals. Caesar walked over to the statue and stood for a moment gazing up at it. Then the sound of laughter came to him and he went off in pursuit of it. Through another door Caesar stopped behind see through curtains. He could see people moving and sitting and talking and laughing and the sound of someone playing a stringed instrument. The sound of running water was near. On a couch two women were kissing, their tongues touching, their hands caressing, exploring each other’s oiled bodies. One of them threw her head back as her neck was now being kissed, her long dark hair hanging down over her shoulder. She rolled her head towards him as a little shudder went through her. Then she opened her eyes and saw him and a small smile spread across her lips. She opened her mouth and touched her teeth with her tongue which he found very erotic. She whispered something and now the other was looking at him. Their cheeks pressed together. Both were seducing him with their eyes and he imagined them on him, loving each other. After a few more moments they giggled and turned their attention back to each other again. Caesar shook his head vigorously to clear his thoughts. He stepped through the light blue curtains and a female servant, wearing very little, and carrying a tray with little cups on it, gasped when she saw him. Others heard the gasp and now he was in full view of them all. They stopped what they were doing to stare at him. The eunuch playing the lyre stopped.
Cleopatra was in her large, circular bath, laying on a sunken seat with only her head above the water which was covered in floating, pink rose petals. Her eyes were closed. She was dozing in the hot water.
“Mardian why do you stop?”
“There is a man in the room highness.”
“Men are not allowed in my bathroom,” she replied, the heat of the water sapping her strength, “You know the rules.”
“I don’t think this one cares my queen.”
She opened her eyes. The light was bright. The man in front of her in silhouette. She shielded her eyes with her hand. Now she could see the expensive red tunic, luxury boots, gold breastplate, ivory handled sword at the hip.