by Julian Noyce
“Oh it’s you Caesar.”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t Apollodorus stop you?”
“He tried.”
“Well clearly not hard enough. I must speak to him.”
Julius was growing impatient. He planted his fists on his hips.
“How is the water?”
She raised a shapely leg out of the water and ran her fingers up it, from the ankle to the knee.
“Lovely,” she replied blissfully.
“Good,” he said, “I’m pleased. I can now return to my men and tell them that while they fight a war to reinstate Cleopatra as queen of Egypt and have nothing to drink the queen at least can bathe in luxury.”
“What are you talking about Caesar?” she asked, her eyes closed again, irritation in her voice, “have your men thought about going to the wells for water?” she asked sarcastically.
“The wells, the fountains, the very pipes are contaminated, flooded with sea water.”
“Inside the palace is fine.”
“So I see.”
She opened her eyes again and reached for a wooden boat drifting on the ripples. She opened it’s top and dipped her fingers in and proceeded to rub her arms with scented oil. He glared at her in disbelief. She caught his gaze.
“It’s a model of my royal barge, to scale of course. Not the real thing. Perhaps you would like a guided tour.”
“Some other time. Things are more pressing at the moment.”
She pushed the barge across the bath as though it were a toy then stopped it with her toe.
“If only my brother would sail away so easily,” she said more to herself. Only Caesar heard.
“Cleopatra please!” he said loudly making her look up, “I need blueprints, plans, whatever you have of the palace irrigation system and I need it now before my men discover the pollution and we have a full scale mutiny on our hands.”
She stopped what she was doing to glance up at him.
“Oh very well!”
She stood in the bath and modestly covered her large breasts with one arm and hand. He felt excitement rush through his tummy.
“Well don’t just stand there Caesar. Pass me a towel.”
He passed her one that was too small. It barely covered her. She stepped up out of the bath and onto a small mat that had been placed for her. Serving girls rushed to her with towels and began drying her legs and feet. Two others began brushing her hair. Caesar watched with amusement.
When Cleopatra was dressed she slipped into a sheer, almost see through pink dress and gold, thronged, slippers. She was handed a glass of fresh water. Caesar waited patiently for her. Then finally she said.
“It was water you wanted to talk about.”
“Yes. My men have reserves but they are getting low.”
“If you would like to come with me. The best and most accurate records are kept in the library but the palace has copies. My architect Theophrastus will have copies. I will have them brought to us.”
Thirty minutes later and Julius Caesar had the best copies of Alexandria’s water supply system on the table in front of him.
“Where is the most likely point for Achillas to flood the conduit system?”
“The main pipe from the Nile runs underground from here,” she pointed on the map, “It passes the southern suburbs of Alexandria here and then runs very close to the harbour here. From here he could stop the freshwater, cap it and flood with seawater instead. This half of the palace runs off this pipe. Your half runs off this pipe. It’s this pipe that he’s sabotaged….Why do you smile?”
“Because it’s ingenious. He’s a worthy adversary. He sabotages my half of the palace and not yours why?”
She searched for the answer.
“Because if he defeats you and I he will want to move straight back into this side of the palace which is not contaminated.”
“Clever girl.”
She leaned forward over the table.
“All your men have to do is dig.”
He was looking at her buttocks through the thin material.
“Dig?”
“Yes. If they dig down they can penetrate the pipe network and reach water.”
“That’s a very good idea.”
He reached a hand out and placed it on her right buttock. This action stopped her and she turned up to look at him.
“Now Caesar are you trying to take advantage of me?”
“No. This is my reward to you for helping me.”
He pulled her close and kissed her hard on the mouth. She responded. There was a polite cough from behind. They both turned. Dolabella was standing ten paces away looking awkward.
“I’m sorry to interrupt Caesar but the men have discovered the sabotage.”
Julius wasn’t surprised. It could only have been a matter of time. He nodded at Dolabella and turned back to Cleopatra.
“It seems once again that duty calls.”
“Come to my bed tonight.”
He gave her a peck on the cheek.
“I will count the moments.”
He lifted both her hands and kissed them. Then with a swish of his cloak he turned and strode from the room. At the door he turned back, smiled, and was gone.
“Yes come to me tonight Caesar,” she said, “And when I give birth to our son he will inherit your world.”
Night had come as Caesar ascended the steps of the fortifications. He reached the top and his men below fell silent at the sight of their leader. Torches lit the compound and Julius could see thousands of faces staring up at him. On approaching he had heard their shouting. Now they were quiet. Many unsure of their actions. Many veterans remembering Caesar’s wrath at previous mutinies and the punishments that followed. Now though there was a sense of, safety, in numbers.
“Men!” he began, ”By now you all know that our water supply is contaminated, about the sabotage by the enemy. The enemy fear you men. He knows he cannot defeat you without these mind games. They are over a million strong and have gained nothing, no ground on us. For every one of you lost hundreds of theirs have fallen. Their dead lay in the streets becoming food for the animals that prowl in the night. Do not fear these desperate tactics of an army, an enemy, who is poorly equipped, poorly trained. You are the best fighting soldiers in the world. Your officers are second to none. You have the best commander…” he paused, “In me!”
A terrific cheer rose from the assembled legionaries. Someone shouted Caesar’s name and others took up the chant. Then as the voices began to die down Marcus Iunius shouted.
“Perhaps we should withdraw Caesar!”
Julius raised his hands for silence.
“No! Absolutely not. The very second we begin to retreat the Alexandrians would overwhelm the barricades and our positions. We would never make it to the harbour alive. Retreat is both unnecessary and wholly unacceptable.”
“But we can’t carry on without water.”
“Queen Cleopatra has given me her copies of the layout of the water systems,” he held the map up for them to see, “Hers are the best available. I will pass it on to your officers. Beneath this courtyard is a conduit system which carries water to fountains on our side of the palace. Next to our pipes are pipes that run directly into the royal section. Take your shovels and dig down men. Dig for your very lives and you will strike the clay pipes. Break through them and you will have your fresh water.”
Again there was a terrific cheer. Julius handed the plans to Sejanus.
“Your men need to dig down here,” Julius pointed to the pipe network on the left, “The water is fairly deep. Buried hundreds of years ago to protect it from earthquakes.”
“Yes sir. I will assign teams.”
“Try to tap into the source after this junction here. That way the royal palace will still have a water supply, though limited.”
“Yes sir.”
Sejanus saluted and left. He passed Marcellus on the steps running in the opposite direction.
“Cae
sar!” Marcellus called even though he was still some distance away. The senior officers swirled around as Marcellus stopped, bent over, to catch his breath. He had sprinted from across the other side of the palace complex.
“Marcellus?”
“Sir. I have just received word from Domitius Calvinus. He has made it along the coast with a fleet of ships from Rhodes.”
“That’s excellent news,” Caesar was delighted.
“No sir. It’s not,” Marcellus said, still trying to catch his breath, “He only has sails for power and the strong westerly winds are preventing him from getting any closer for now. He’s anchored near the shore.”
“So we just need to hold out until the wind dies down. That doesn’t seem so bad. I’ll break the news to the men.”
“No that’s not the end of it Caesar. I’ve just received word that Achillas has a fleet of ships sailing directly for the harbour. I think he means to attack our ships sir! Calvinus won’t be able to get through.”
CHAPTER TEN
Caesar stood in the prow of his galley in full battle armour as the oars dipped into the water. It was dark now and he’d ordered all lights on his ship extinguished and silence. There was to be whispering only.
He turned and looked back at the other ships following. Like his they were in darkness. He could scarcely make them out in the night.
He faced the front again and gauged the distance to the island of Pharos. The lighthouse lit up the sky half a mile ahead. His ship was in a clear channel amongst the various anchored vessels of the Egyptian fleet. He knew that the following Roman ships would now be getting into line to follow him through.
The decks were empty of soldiers. Caesar couldn’t spare any of his men defending the barricades so the only ones he had brought were manning the oars. The slaves that usually manned the oars had been set free and had probably already gone over to the enemy. Caesar wasn’t bothered about them. As far as he saw it they were a drain on his supplies and expendable anyway. In their constant weakened condition they certainly wouldn’t put up much of a fight.
Dolabella joined Julius. Both men smiled at each other.
“We are ahead of Achillas’ fleet Caesar. It’s all going as you planned.”
The moon suddenly broke through the clouds and the two generals could clearly see the ships following. They both glanced up.
“Curse the moonlight,” Julius said.
“Let’s hope none of these ships we’re passing have sentries.”
“These are fishing boats so I hope not but we are coming up to merchant vessels and over there is an Egyptian war galley.”
The wind suddenly whipped their cloaks up bringing a chill to the night air. The clouds scudded across in front of the moon again and they were plunged back into darkness. Dolabella was studying a large merchant ship to the left. It towered over the smaller fishing boats below it. Torches were burning on its top deck. For a split second Dolabella saw one of the torches appear to go out and come back on again. It happened again as he was watching. There was no one nearby. He sighed with relief. It was just the wind blowing the flames.
“You seem a little tense Dolabella.”
“It’s just the wind and the light playing tricks on my tired eyes.”
“If you’re tired you should try facing into the wind. That’s what has kept me awake.”
“I’ll be fine.”
After a moment or two Dolabella said.
“It is kind of exciting isn’t it sir.”
“Exciting?”
“Yes. All of this I mean. Trying to conceal ourselves as we sail into the harbour.”
“Oh yes. I suppose it is.”
Caesar looked towards the shore.
“The streets do seem unusually quiet.”
“Yes they do. Do you expect a trap sir.”
“Always expect the unexpected Dolabella. That’s what keeps you alive while others around you fall.”
“Yes of course sir. As always your advice is greatly appreciated.”
“Once we get past those bigger ships anchored there we will stop rowing and glide onto the beach.”
“The beach?”
“Yes. There won’t be time to secure the ships to the dock as usual. No the ships Captain’s have orders to drive the ships straight onto the beach. You seem surprised at this.”
“Yes sir.”
“Speak your mind.”
Dolabella knew Caesar hated his orders or decisions to be questioned and he was glad for the invite to speak openly.
“Caesar I know you would have thought things through carefully before making such a decision but if the ships are beached we would not, could not re-float them in an emergency if we needed to. For instance if we have to evacuate our assault.”
“I know and the God’s I’ve prayed for an alternative but in this one I am sure. We need the element of surprise in this Dolabella. We have to land on Pharos island and quickly secure the neighbourhoods and the lighthouse. I am convinced this can only be done with a lightning strike. Once we control these we can defend the harbour and our ships will be safe to come and go.”
“How well defended is this area of the city sir?”
“I’m hoping not very. There is no access to the Royal palace from this side. The outer walls are at their highest and thickest here. As of yet the Alexandrians have not attempted to besiege us from there. In the streets I would imagine the most they have done is erect barricades. The lighthouse is manned by the Egyptian army so they will have to be dealt with swiftly.”
They were now approaching a much larger galley, torches burning on its decks.
“Is that one of ours Caesar?”
“No.”
“Why did the Egyptians leave it here? Do you think it’s a trap?”
Caesar studied the vessel. He turned and made a signal to the helmsman.
‘Steer to port,’ the helmsman said to himself.
The moon suddenly appeared from the clouds again. Caesar saw new wood near the waterline.
“There Dolabella. She is being repaired. See the new timber.”
Both men relaxed. The enemy ship wasn’t ready for war. The moon disappeared behind more cloud just as someone passed in front of a torch on the deck.
“Sir someone’s up there,” Dolabella whispered.
“Where?”
“There sir,” pointing with his finger, “I think it was a sentry.”
“I don’t see anyone.”
“I can’t now but I saw him just as the moon went in again.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes. Earlier I thought I saw one but this time I have no doubt.”
“I can’t see him.”
“He’s there. I know it.”
The moon reappeared, lighting up the sea, the ship.
“There he is now sir do you see him?”
“No.”
“There. He’s almost at the stern. Can you see him now?”
“No. My eyes are obviously not as good as yours.”
“When he turns he’ll probably see us.”
Caesar clicked his fingers at an archer standing nearby.
“Can you see him?”
“Yes sir.”
“Prepare to fire.”
The archer notched an arrow and drew back his bow.
“Don’t fire unless you’re absolutely sure you can bring him down in one shot.”
“Yes sir. I’ve already compensated for the wind. It won’t be an easy shot.”
“He has to be killed. If he’s wounded or you miss our game’s up.”
“I won’t miss sir.”
The sentry patrolling the repaired Trireme got to the end of his pacing and stopped. He spat over the rear of the ship and rolled his aching shoulders. He had been patrolling now for four hours alone. He had given up counting his footsteps. Twelve from the bow, seventy seven for the deck, eleven to the rear steering oars. That made exactly one hundred. He yawned and glanced east, then continued his pacing f
or a few moments, then stopped dead, a puzzled look on his face. For a moment, in the moonlight, he’d thought he’d seen a large ship sailing directly for him. He turned and looked again and died. The Roman arrow smashed into his mouth drowning out any sound he could have made. He staggered forward and toppled over the side and fell with a heavy splash into the harbour.
“Well done,” was all Caesar said.
Their ship maneuvered around the galley and through smaller ships and boats, the sail filled out by the strong wind. Now in the moonlight Julius could see Pharos island and the beach ahead. Four hundred yards ahead, three fifty, three hundred.
“Steady as she goes.”
Two fifty, two hundred.
“Keep her steady.”
Caesar looked behind to see that the two other ships were flanking his. They were, some distance apart.
One hundred and fifty yards. One hundred.
“Ship oars!”
The oars were raised up out of the water and retracted.
Fifty yards to the beach men rushed up from below deck with swords ready. Most were sweating. Some were barechested.
Twenty five yards.
“Prepare for beaching.”
Men planted their legs firmly or held on with free hands. Everyone on board felt the keel of the ship scrape along the bottom of the harbour, throwing men momentarily off balance, but the sheer weight of the ship gave it the momentum to continue up the beach for a short distance. The heavy ram on the prow ploughed through the sand until it came to a stop.
“Go! Go! Go!” Caesar now broke the silence and shouted at his men.
Rope ladders were thrown over the sides and secured as men rushed up and over and down onto the soft, cool, sand. Those nearest the prow didn’t wait for ladders and they leapt over the side and dropped the short distance to the sand.
Caesar watched as once ashore his men raced up the beach and headed for the first buildings. One man he noticed was already lagging behind, clearly limping from hitting the beach too hard and twisting his ankle.
The next ship shuddered to a stop on Caesar’s left and he watched as another fifty of his men stormed the beach, quickly becoming dark shapes and black shadows on the moonlit sand.