"Probably because your men were not in uniform Caesar. They first appeared to be bandits or pirates. There are many strange ships in the harbour."

Julius studied the man, judging him.

"Where do your loyalties lie? Ptolemy or Cleopatra?"

"To the royal throne Caesar. No matter who sits on it."

"Very well. You can report back to the palace, to your commander. You may well tell Achillas, if you should see him again, that Caesar has compassion."

The guards saluted formally.

"And them Caesar?, Lepidus nodded towards the dead lying in the street.

"Burn our fallen brother. As for the Egyptian deada." Julius gazed across at the horizon. It would be sunrise soon, "a.Throw them into the sea."

Burrus returned. He had been running.

"That's it Caesar. We've secured the district. The island belongs to you."

A great cheer went up from the Romans.

"Thank you Burrus. Send a message down the coast to Calvinius. Tell him his ships are safe to land as soon as he is able.

"Yes sir."

The Romans made way as Caesar entered the building. It took him ten minutes to climb the many staircases to the top. He walked out at the base of the huge flames. The city was sprawled out to the East. He felt the sun on the back of his neck and he turned to face it. There were thin strips of red cloud in the distance. The sunrise was perfect. He could see his three ships still beached and the many ships in the harbour. His own fleet still in the royal harbour and the temple of Osiris and the tomb of Alexander. The morning was beautiful. Caesar took a long deep breath and held it until his lungs were aching.

The sound of another horn drifted across to him. His eyes searched for the source. He had been smiling to himself. Then the smile vanished, replaced with a frown.

A flotilla of ships was heading for Alexandria. On their sails the enemy's symbol. Caesar turned at shouts from below. He leaned over the edge and looked down. He saw his men running back towards his ships. He looked up. Hundreds of the enemy were running across the sand towards his beached galleys.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Julius Caesar was sitting at his writing desk on board his ship writing reports. It had been a month since his arrival in Alexandria. A long and difficult time for the Roman dictator.

It had been a long and troubling week since the water supply was sabotaged and then fixed easily in one night by his men digging down to the fresh supply. That night had been dangerous, Caesar was sure, on the point of mutiny.

Then the Romans had conquered the island of Pharos with just over a hundred men, defeating a force of three times that number. They had re-floated their three beached ships and without fighting men on board they had rowed the five miles along the coast to Calvinius, linked up with him and towed his supply ships back to the royal harbour to a raucous applause from the Romans watching.

It had been a great victory for Caesar. Another in a long line of triumphs. At daybreak their elation was short lived. They had seen Achillas' fleet blockading the harbour. The Roman ships under protection from the island now only able to seek safe passage in the royal harbour. The Romans had enjoyed a brief victory on that day when they had returned. News had soon got out that Caesar's ships were seriously undermanned and the Alexandrian fleet had awaited them. On that first day of battle at sea Caesar had managed to sink one Egyptian ship and damage many others.

Now today news had reached Julius that the Alexandrians had begun a new fleet and in four days had constructed twenty seven new warships. The Alexandrians driven by the knowledge that they were, indeed, masters of the sea.

"Twenty seven in four days," Caesar said to himself.

He read on.

In addition to the twenty seven the locals were also dragging rotten hulls from the seabed and mud and were even tearing down rafters from public buildings to create their new navy. Julius knew in the safety of the calm water of the harbour that this was a formidable force.

Then just one hour ago Caesar had received a report that a reserve fleet from Rhodes and Turkey flying the Roman eagle had been sighted off the coast and news that Mithridates' great army had entered Egypt. Now nothing could stop the mighty Roman war machine. Could it?

"And what about Cleopatra?" Julius asked himself, feeling his heart flutter at the thought of her.

"Ah! My love I haven't seen you for a week."

"BALLISTA!"

Caesar heard the shout come through his window.

"BALLISTA!" the voice shouted again.

Julius heard the whoosh of the huge stone as it flew past and hit the water, sending up a spume of spray.

In the next instant Julius was up out of his seat and running for the stairs. He burst out into the afternoon sunlight just as another huge stone flashed past and crashed into the sea. He dashed across the deck and into cover against the side next to Admiral Agrippa.

Agrippa didn't bother with the usual expected greeting or pleasantries but just blurted out.

"They suddenly attacked without warning Caesar!"

"Must have known our men were taking a break."

"Yes. The Alexandrians have spies all along the rooftops. It would be very easy for them to spot our limited numbers."

Another stone hit the water with a heavy splash. This one so close the two men were soaked by its spray.

"It won't be long before they start making direct hits."

"How many ships are firing at us?"

"Five Sir. The others are out of range."

Everywhere around Caesar's men were rushing for the artillery weapons, ratchets frantically being worked.

"It'll take our men just a few moments to get our artillery set up sir."

Julius looked towards the lighthouse and saw hundreds of his men rushing down to the beach to join the fight, shouting out to be picked up.

"Should we go and get them?"

Julius glanced at the enemy ships.

"No. If we move further back the Alexandrians will sail into the harbour and pin us in. No Agrippa. Tell your men to leave the artillery and man the oars."

"Man the oars?"

"Yes. If we move towards them we'll be too close for their weapons. We'll drive them back. Whatever we do we must not let them any closer to the lighthouse.

"Man the oars!" Agrippa roared.

Amidst huge blocks of stone crashing into the sea men stopped what they were doing and rushed below decks. The large barrel chested oarsmaster ran up. Despite the missiles raining down he stood erect.

"We're going to attack! Ramming speed!" Agrippa shouted.

"Yes sir."

The man went below.

Julius now stood tall on the deck. He could see the Egyptians on their ships frantically adjusting their weapons. One direct hit crashed into a small fishing boat that had somehow got left behind. The boat rocked violently and capsized as the stone slid off and both sank to the deep.

Caesar heard the drum below deck begin. He looked over the side and saw the oars lowering into the water. There was a short silence. Then as one they pulled water, came out, returned to the start and came back again. It took several sweeps of the oars to get the ship moving but once they bit into the sea she picked up speed.

On the deck of the largest Alexandrian warship her commander Ibn Benghazi turned to his first officer, who said.

"What are the Romans doing? They must see that there is no escape for them."

"They know there is no escape. No. this Roman is playing a game of cat and mouse with us. It's an idle threat."

They watched as Caesar's standard was raised, letting all know who was on board.

"So the great butcher himself challenges us," Benghazi said, "Maintain our position. Let's see what the barbarian has in mind."

"Maintain position!" the first officer shouted.

"Maintain position," the order was relayed to the other ships.

Caesar watched as the oars dipped into the sea again. Now his ship was picking up speed. The enemy artillery had so far had no impact on the Roman ships. Now a direct hit on Julius' ship sent men diving for cover. The large stone clattered and crashed heavily along the deck splintering wood like matchsticks and turning two men into mincemeat. The force of the blow causing the ship to momentarily wobble, pulling the steering oars out of the helmsman's grip. The ship lurched and one row of oars pulled at air instead of water and for a moment the rowers were thrown off balance. Caesar and Agrippa were forced to hold on to keep their footing. The drum master stopped his drumming long enough for the rowers to compose themselves. Then he started up again.

"Row!"

Thump! Thump!

"Row!"

Thump! Thump!

They soon picked up the pace again and the ship was moving cleanly through the harbour.

Julius tore his eyes away from the two, mangled, men that lay on the deck to gauge the distance to the enemy.

Four hundred yards. Three fifty. Three hundred.

"Ramming speed!" Agrippa shouted to the officer in charge.

"Ramming speed!"

The drum master picked up the pace.

Two hundred and fifty yards. Now the enemy artillery fell silent.

"He's coming straight at us!" the Alexandrian officer shouted, "He's going to ram us!"

On the Roman galley everyone but Julius Caesar had prepared themselves for impact. Agrippa had wound his foot around some ropes and locked his arms through rigging. He had watched with one eyebrow raised as Caesar had stood calmly on the deck and had gazed up, apparently, at seagulls high in the sky. Agrippa could only imagine at what the impact would do to Caesar's unprotected position.

'The force of it will kill him,' he said to himself.

From where he waited he could see the tall mast of the enemy ship get closer and higher.

At one hundred yards distance he decided to watch until he could watch no longer, turning his head at the last moment to avoid seeing his friends demise. At the last possible second he decided to untangle himself and rush to Caesar's side, to share his death, to die side by side, the final glorious moment of his military career. He was almost at Caesar when the Roman dictator suddenly spun around and shouted.

"NOW!"

At the steering oars men lifted the port side clear of the water and the men at the starboard oar pushed theirs deep into the sea while the rowing oars at the port side were lifted clear of the sea while the oars on the starboard side stopped rowing and held theirs down. The ship slewed around violently throwing men about both above and below decks. Caesar and Agrippa held onto each other in a strong embrace. Caesar's back exposed to the fire arrows which mercifully didn't come.

Caesar was smiling at Agrippa.

The Roman ship was leaning far over, her timbers creaking under the heavy strain. Then she righted and the oars were quickly doing their work and they were pulling away to the victorious cheers of the Alexandrian fleet.

Agrippa was still looking at Caesar as the two men moved apart.

"The best is yet to come," Julius said.

On his ship the Greek mercenary Euphranor from Rhodes was watching the scene ahead. His ship, a Greek trireme, had been at the back of the Alexandrian fleet where the previous evening they had sailed in as Greek mercenary pirates and sworn allegiance to King Ptolemy and Achillas. Then accepted as allies they had spent the night preparing. His ship had been under pain of death to remain absolutely silent. All communication had been done with wax tablets among his crew.

While the Alexandrian flagship and her fleet had been preoccupied by the tactics of Caesar they had quietly slipped anchor and using the gentle currents they had positioned themselves. Unseen at the back of the fleet they had slowly slipped their oars into the water and in silence and without the aid of a drumbeat they had begun moving towards the flagship. Using only hand signals and maintaining silence they had built up speed. Other Egyptian ships had watched them go through thinking they were just mercenaries keen to prove their loyalty had been bought.

Then at the given signal, Caesar's standard being raised, they had gained speed for ramming.

Standing alone at the prow Euphranor had watched Caesar's ship speeding towards the Alexandrian flagship. He'd seen the Alexandrians brace themselves for impact.

'Fools! The Romans wouldn't hit them head on. What would that achieve? I thought the Alexandrians considered themselves masters of the sea and they don't even know the basics.'

Euphranor had seen how Julius Caesar had sailed within throwing distance of the flagship.

'The Gods I admire that man.'

"Listen to me!" his brother Mentor had said that night on the balcony of their father's home at Lindos, "We have to join the Egyptians. They will be the eventual victor in this war."

The island of Rhodes like so many had been inundated with calls by Caesar and Rome to join in his fight with Pompey.

"I disagree brother. I know the Egyptians are ancient compared to Rome but Rome has never been defeated on land or at sea. You chose the army which made you a General. I chose the sea. I chose Caesar. Rome will be the eventual victor in this war which could swallow up the whole of the Mediterranean world."

"I don't think it will."