The three that ran for the harbour were in the water in no time. The boats giving them added cover. They had to duck under mooring ropes from time to time.
The three that ran for the sea had it much tougher. Near the shore it was rocky and they had to climb barefoot over sharp, jagged rocks. Once in the sea it was no better until they were able to swim. Surprisingly to Quintus Varius the sea wasn’t as cold as he’d thought it would be. Nor did the two legionaries accompanying him.
In the harbour Gaius Lepidus thought the water was cold. He felt it numbing his body as he swam. His neck was already aching from having to keep stopping and looking up.
The next time he looked up the fire from the lighthouse was looming above him. He estimated they had been in the water for less than five minutes. Slowly, trying to cause the least amount of ripples and noise possible the three made their way towards the wall.
Here at the lighthouse the wall came down into the sea. The foundations were deep in the silt. Gaius scrabbled along the wall with his hands while underwater his feet pushed against it, helping him along. Finally he found a foothold and pushed himself up out of the water. The other two moved along until they were behind him. Then slowly the three began to climb the very difficult wall.
Twice Gaius nearly slipped. Both times he managed to hang on, pressing his fingers and toes into rough edges of stone and mortar. Once he did slip and he began sliding down the wall, his fingers scrabbling on the rough stone. He managed to stop himself before he collided with his two fellow climbers. He hugged the wall tightly. Then when he felt that he wouldn’t slip anymore he took first one hand and then the other off the wall and brought it up to his face. In the light cast by the large fire at the top of the lighthouse he could see that his fingertips were raw with abrasions. His finger nails were broken and bleeding. Both his knees were grazed. He reached down to the one that was hurting the most and brought his fingers up to his face again. There was blood on them. His knife on his forearm had slipped also and he retied it one handed and using his teeth.
One of the others had managed to move out to the left and was now level with Gaius.
“Are you all right Gaius?” he whispered across.
Gaius nodded.
“Do you want me to take the lead?”
Gaius’ fingertips were stinging and he clenched his fingers into a tight fist. They were extremely sore but regardless he shook his head and thrust himself upwards, climbing the wall quickly. Soon he found himself at the top and he pulled himself up just enough to peek over. They had come up at the side of the building around the corner from the standing guards.
Perfect!
He bade his colleagues to wait then, quick as a flash, Gaius pulled himself up over the wall and darted silently for the corner. He peeked around once. The two guards were staring down the street towards where the Romans waited. He peered around again searching the distant wall for signs of the other three swimmers. He couldn’t see them.
’What should I do?’ he asked himself, ’Do I attack or wait?’
Another glance around the corner told him that the guards were standing ten paces apart. He glanced up at the sky. The wind had died down.
’At least the moon is not out.’
He decided he couldn’t wait any longer. He turned to beckon his men over and kicked a stone by accident. It clattered across the road and finished up by the wall. He put his hand out and shook it to stop the other two but they were already at the top of the wall. Gaius dared to look around the wall. To his horror the guard nearest him was looking in his direction. He shrank back further into the shadows. He stole another peek and saw the guard moving slowly towards him. Gaius knew he and his men would be no match for the javelin or long sword the Egyptian army carried. He cursed his luck. He darted to the wall. He had only seconds to act. He squatted down and scrabbled with his fingers, desperately searching for the stone that had probably given him away. Then he touched it and his fingers closed around it.
Back in the street Lucius Burrus waited for signs of his men who’d taken the ocean to re-appear. As he’d watched he’d seen one man from the harbour side scale the top of the wall and dash into the shadows. Now he could see one of the guards moving to that corner where the man remained hidden.
“What’s happening?” a voice asked quietly.
Burrus knew the voice. He turned and saluted. Then anxious about the guard he turned back and spoke quietly over his shoulder.
“I’ve sent swimmers via the harbour and ocean Caesar. The men from the harbour are in position. I don’t know if the guard has discovered them. I’m still waiting to see the men from the other side appear.”
The sentry was almost at the corner.
“Can you bring him down with an archer?”
“I couldn’t guarantee it at first but now the wind has dropped.”
“Get an archer….Wait he’s turning, something’s distracted him.”
Quintus Varius and his two men scaled the top of the wall from the sea and rushed to the side of the base of the lighthouse. He glanced down at his legs and saw little bits of black seaweed sticking to them. He peered around the corner, saw the guard nearest to him looking in the opposite direction, saw the further guard away from his station also heading in the opposite direction, drew his knife from his forearm and dashed out into the open. He jumped onto the Egyptian’s back, knocking the wind out of his enemy as he drove his dagger through the man’s back, through his ribs, into his heart. Varius didn’t wait to see if the man was dead. He simply plunged his knife into the man’s jugular and ripped it free.
The other guard had almost reached the corner of the building. He’d heard the initial stone hit the wall, then heard the stone clatter up the street after Burrus had thrown it to distract him. Then he’d whirled around as he’d heard the other guard go down. He drew his sword and as he began to run he was tripped from behind and hit the road hard. The three Romans plunged their knives into him again and again and again and as he was howling with the pain one of them lifted his head and slit his throat.
The two teams wasted no time in grabbing arms and legs and began moving the dead men into the shadows. Varius stopped and looked up at the sound of approaching feet.
“What’s that?”
“Patrol,” Varius answered.
He grabbed the nearest javelin, another of his men picked up a sword. Now armed with better weapons the six Romans waited in the shadows as the patrol rounded the corner. They saw the dead bodies and the captain shouted and drew his sword. The Romans threw themselves into action. They charged the four man patrol. The Egyptian captain raised his shield as a javelin was thrown at him. It glanced off and clattered away, the steel head striking sparks off the flagstones. The second javelin embedded itself into the shield and the force of it wrenched it from his arm. Bellowing with rage he stormed at the Romans, his sword slashing this way and that. The first of Burrus’ men managed to avoid the deadly weapon but the second didn’t move in time and the sword slashed his quadriceps open, cleaved to the bone. He fell to the ground howling in agony.
From where the Romans stood they could see the guards on upper levels looking down. Then they were running for the steps that led down. One man ran to the corner and throwing his weapons down he leaned forward and blew long and hard into a curved horn. The noise of which reached out over the island, across the harbour and into the city.