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The crowd now began talking amongst themselves. For a brief moment Caesar thought he may have a chance of winning them over.

“There is bound to be objection at what you believe is Roman interference but I assure you it is not so!”

“Then why does Ptolemy say you’re here for gold and gold only?”

“That was a thought that Pothinus planted in his head. Pothinus! Not Caesar! He couldn’t have been more wrong. It is true that Egypt, or rather Ptolemy Auletes owes me ten million Denarii and I was hoping to leave with that debt settled in full.”

“So it is the gold you want. Egypt’s wealth and nothing more. It is True!”

“It is not true! Furthermore! As a token of my appreciation of the debt being paid I intend to restore to Egyptian rule the island of CYPRUS!”

The excitement in the crowd rose now as they spoke among themselves again.

“Did you hear what he just promised? What he said! Cyprus! Cyprus back under Egypt’s rule. Think of the power! Think of the wealth!”

“How do we know he’ll keep his word?”

As if to clarify Caesar said.

“This I swear to you as Rome’s envoy to Egypt. Alexandrians I implore you to listen, to consider my offer. There is no need for us to be enemies. Please return to your homes, your shops, your businesses.”

Caesar stopped and waited. The crowd appearing to be less hostile. They were discussing things amongst themselves. Then the man near the front who had been doing most of the questioning, turned away from the Roman dictator and began walking through the crowd. His fellows watched him.

“Antonius. Where do you go?” One of his friends called.

He stopped. A space cleared around him as people moved out of his way.

“I am going to consider what the Roman has said.”

“You are?”

“Yes! And besides I have a business to run.”

The crowd made way for him as he left. Others were left staring at his departing back. Soon a dozen were leaving, then more. Caesar turned his head this way and that. A few, who were obviously intent on continuing, tried to shout more abuse and insults but as the crowd around them began to disperse they lost faith. Caesar waited until the street was almost back to normal then after thanking the Egyptian guards he turned and with his arm around Ptolemy led the way up the steps. At the top he let Ptolemy go and glared at Theodotus, who tried a smile.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you executed right here and now.”

Theodotus quailed under the stare.

“The sentence stands!”

Dolabella came running up to Julius.

“Sire you’d better come quick. Achillas and the Egyptian army has been seen just outside the city.

Ptolemy suddenly made a run for it.

“Stop him!” Caesar ordered.

Marcellus caught him by the collar of his robe.

“You try anything like that again and I’ll shove my sword up your arse you snivelling little shit!” he bared his teeth at Theodotus, “That goes for you too!”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Julius Caesar bounded up the steps two at a time. His bodyguards, carrying shields, having to work twice as hard to keep up. The steps were built into the palace walls. His men lined the steps, his soldiers, his legionaries. At the top of the steps, sixty feet above the ground, he stopped. The two towers of the star gate loomed another twenty feet above him. He turned to face into the Royal palace complex. He glanced up at the window he’d stood in that first night when Cleopatra had been brought in by Apollodorus in the rug. It seemed so long ago to him now.

Much had happened, much had changed, he had changed.

He watched as his men, stripped to their waists, dismantled roofs and walls of buildings, using ropes, pulleys, hammers, horses, their bare hands, to create his no-mans land. The stone being stockpiled further back behind Roman lines. Teams of legionaries were setting up Ballista’s, the large catapults. The stone would be used against the enemy.

“Have you checked the range?”

“Not yet Caesar,” Germanicus replied.

Julius turned and looked down the street. The thoroughfare was wide but not wide enough for standard battle tactics. He allowed himself a small smile.

“Do you know gentlemen,” he said to his Generals surrounding him, “I have besieged many cities in my campaigns but I’ve never yet been the defender. Still there’s a first time for everything.”

He looked up at the stone gate towers.

“Come gentlemen. We need to go higher.”

Once at the top of the left tower Caesar could see out over the whole city. The sun sparkled off the sea beyond the harbour where the Roman ships lay at anchor. Smoke drifted up from the lighthouse where the fire had burned out. It would be prepared for dusk during the day. The streets below were unusually quiet. On the rooftops of many buildings the Romans could see people. No doubt spies recording what they saw and reporting back to Achillas with their findings. Tall palm trees appeared at random above the rooftops. Up the hill behind was the temple complex, dedicated to Osiris.

From up here Julius could see exactly what he controlled. Beyond the Royal section of the harbour was the common harbour.

“From here we can see exactly what we control.”

The Generals gathered closer around their leader.

“We control that much of the harbour,” he said with a sweep of his arm, “The palace grounds before us. That area to the South is ours. Agrippa holds that with over four thousand infantry and a few hundred cavalry. Achillas has flanked them without a fight. Even though he outnumbers them five to one he doesn’t attack. Agrippa has sent riders to Mithridates of Pergamum asking for help.”

“But Sir Pergamum is in Turkey. Even if King Mithridates left immediately it will take him weeks to arrive at best.”

“I’m afraid Marcellus is right gentlemen. We are in the most difficult, physical fight of our lives.”

“Don’t worry sir. You always come out on top. You’ll find a way to save the day. You always have, you always will.”

“I am worried Marcellus. I’m worried about supplies. Food is scarce. We have enough for now. The men will fight hungry but no it’s not the food I worry about, it’s water. A man can survive on hunger, but thirst?”

“We have plenty of fresh water sir, from the canals.”

“Which could easily, going by the model, be flooded with sea water, leaving our supply useless.”

“Let’s hope they don’t think of it sir.”

“I’m afraid Marcellus I expect they already have.”

“Caesar!” a voice called from below.

Five faces appeared over the edge of the tower and looked down. Caesar saw one of the Ballista commanders. The man who’d called next to him. A legionary without weapons covered in dust.

“An urgent message sir!”

Caesar waved.

“After you Marcellus.”

By the time Caesar and the Generals got down to the level of the courtyard the messenger was gulping down a jug of water. He saluted the Roman dictator.

“I beg your pardon sire, about my appearance. I had to leave my horse some distance away and I ran here. It must have been at least two miles.”

“That’s quite all right. Now, please, what message do you have for Caesar?”

“Achillas has sent messengers to all the local towns and villages asking for support. Thousands have come to his banner sir, maybe even tens of thousands. They are flocking into Alexandria carrying whatever they can bring or dragging weapons behind them.”