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The ballista’s had been moved up to the barricades and reset to provide covering fire for the legionaries who had worked to clear the debris. The dead had been carried back through the Roman lines and were now burning in the street behind, thus protecting Roman backs.

Marcus had seen some of the casualties as they had passed him. Some of the injuries were appalling. He cringed at the thought of being on the receiving end.

’Better not to think about it’ he told himself.

He pinched his nose again, his eyes closed. The relief was instant but he suddenly felt himself sway. He opened his eyes quickly and put his arm out to help his balance. His second in command saw.

“Are you all right sir?”

Marcus tried to focus with bleary eyes.

“Yes I’m fine. Just a bit tired is all.”

“We’re all tired.”

“What? Oh yes I know.”

“Why don’t you try to get some rest sir.”

Marcus was still rubbing his eyes.

“No! I can’t. There’s too much to do….”

Lucius Scato studied his commanding officer. Marcus hadn’t realised that he was so tired he was slurring his words.

“Sir. I can manage here for the time being. Why don’t you get some sleep. We’ll need you when it matters and you’re not much use to the men tired. You could go into one of the houses to sleep. It’ll be safe. I’ll post guards.”

“No I really mustn’t as much as I could do with a nap.”

“Sir I’m concerned about you. Caesar has ordered the attack for dawn. That’s four hours away and you can hardly stay awake now.”

Marcus rubbed his face hard in an effort to wake himself up.

“No! I can’t leave my duties.”

“What we’re doing now is just routine. I can handle everything here for now.”

“No.”

“Then why not have a bench brought out here into the street. I’ll wake you if you’re needed.”

Marcus thought about it. A centurion standing nearby spoke.

“You should get some sleep sir.”

“All right but you wake me at the slightest problem.”

“Yes Marcus. Of course.”

Two legionaries brought a wooden bench out and placed it near a wall. Marcus Sejanus lay down on the bench and pulled his cloak up over him. He was almost instantly asleep.

“Thank you Falco,” Scato said, “He wasn’t going to get some rest until you said what you did.”

Falco nodded towards the sleeping figure.

“He’s not much good to us tired and tired men make mistakes.”

“That’s true,” Scato looked across at the timekeeper, “It’s time you took a break.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ll wake you at the next watch.”

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.”