by Peter Tonkin
As he considered his options if the Egyptian fleet did appear, there was a distant shout.
A few moments later, his captain came hurrying up. ‘Sail sighted, Admiral.’
‘Egyptian?’ he asked, his heartbeat quickening.
‘Hard to tell. A fast trireme, coming east of south, and heading west towards us. She’s sitting just south enough to get a good breeze into her sails. That’s all we know at the moment. They’re all alike, triremes.’
‘Keep me informed.’ Murcus ordered.
‘Of course, Admiral,’ answered the captain.
The captain hurried back to his post. Murcus went back to his assessment of the current situation. His flagship had not been badly treated by the storm – but there were still repairs to be completed. And if the trireme turned out to be one of Cleopatra’s, the whole Egyptian fleet could be down on them in no time.’
Murcus pursed his lips, clasped his hands behind his back and strode to the deck-rail, looking east. Yes. There it was. A white speck on the blue-grey line where the sky and the sea met. Still coming onwards. On the one hand, anyone coming from that direction was likely to be from the Egyptian fleet, he thought. On the other, an Egyptian spy ship would have turned as soon as they sighted the squadron and be hurrying back to Cleopatra with news of their location.
But it looked like this trireme was coming straight on, which almost certainly made it one of their own – with a message from General Brutus, perhaps. The thought of it quickened Murcus’ heart still further. Like his friend and co-admiral Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus, Murcus was a man of action and a bit of a pirate at heart. Patrol duty did not really suit him. He would have been far happier to take his fifty ships and go raiding along the Ionian coast. But if he did that there would be trouble. And one way or another, whether or not the Egyptian fleet turned up, he was in the middle of a war zone here.
*
It took another couple of hours for the trireme to come alongside. Then it dropped a skiff and a team of oarsmen held it in place while a young man in a red legionary tunic climbed down a rope ladder into it. When he was safely aboard, a bag was lowered to him.
The skiff brought him over and he climbed aboard the admiral’s ship, opened the bag and pulled out the badges of rank the proclaimed him to be a tribune. He attached these to his tunic and presented himself to Murcus, who was at once amazed and amused by the performance.
‘Too sensible to wear full armour in a skiff rowing between warships, eh?’ he said.
‘I don’t believe it’s worth the risk, Admiral. One might fall into the water after all. And if one was wearing armour, that would be the end of everything. Even in the unlikely event that one had learned the rather plebeian pastime of swimming.’
‘Very true. And very wise. So, you have avoided drowning like a true patrician. But I don’t believe we’ve met. You are...?’
The young man drew himself up and threw out his chest. ‘Marcus Valerius Messala Corvinus, Admiral.’
‘Ah yes, I knew your wife’s grandfather Marcus Porcius Cato. I was sorry to hear about the death of your wife’s mother, General Brutus’ wife Porcia. Eating hot coals, I hear. Dreadful. But what brings you hurrying to me?’
‘I am currently acting tribune to General Marcus Junius Brutus. Carrying messages from the General...’ Messala held out the sealed leather message-tube he had also taken from the bag containing his badges of rank. He held it out.
Murcus took it, continuing to speak, ‘And lucky to get here to deliver them, young man. Don’t you know there’s a huge Egyptian fleet out in these waters?’
Messala gave an irritatingly superior grin. ‘Yes, Admiral. I have seen Queen Cleopatra’s navy.’
‘Have you indeed?’ Murcus’ normally open face folded into a worried frown. ‘When. May I ask?’
‘On my way here, Admiral.’
Murcus sucked in a breath, tiring of this pompous young tribune and his games. ‘And where did you see them?’
‘On most of the beaches we passed, Admiral. What remains of Queen Cleopatra’s ships at least. Nothing more than wreckage washing ashore with the tide...’
THE END
Historical Characters
Porcia Porcia Catonis, widow of Marcus Calpurnius Bibulus, mother of Lucius Calpurnius Bibulus and Calpurnia Calpurnius Bibulus. After the death of her first husband, scandalously married her cousin Marcus Junius Brutus. May have committed suicide (42BCE/712AUC?) by eating live coals.
Calpurnia, daughter to Porcia Catonis, married to Marcus Velarius Messala Corvinus
Lucius Lucius Calpurnius Bibulus, proscribed but escaped Rome and joined Brutus.
Messala Marcus Velarius Messala Corvinus, proscribed, escaped, became one of Brutus’ most outstanding lieutenants.
Octavianus Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus Divus Fili – usually referred to as Octavian but later became Augustus. Triumvir. History presents him in two main lights – the cold, calculating but effective politician and the womanising occasionally sadistic manipulator. In early 42BCE/712AUC his main preoccupation was dealing with Sextus Pompey. I have not seen this proposition examined at any depth anywhere – but the symptoms of his life-long illness seem to fit with those of malaria.
Sextus Pompey the only surviving son of Pompey the Great, established with a large fleet in Sicily. Accepting escapees from the proscriptions, posing a threat to Rome’s grain supplies, but not really taking sides.
Murcus Lucius Statius Murcus, general with imperium for one of the Libertore fleets (The word ‘Admiral’ is a recent coinage (C12th Arabic origin) but I have used it to discriminate from Generals with imperium over land forces). It was Murcus who is said to have observed Cleopatra’s fleet as wreckage on the beaches of southern Greece.
Ahenobarbus Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus, general with imperium over the largest of the Libertore fleets. Turned pirate later & joined first Antony and then Octavian. The basis for Shakespeare’s ultimately treacherous Enobarbus in Antony and Cleopatra.
Artemidorus a Greek man about whom only one thing is known for certain – it was Artemidorus who gave Julius Caesar a list containing the names of the men planning to murder him just before they did so. Caesar never read it and died in consequence. In these books he is reimagined as a secret agent currently working for Antony.
Antony Marcus Antonius. Triumvir. History presents him as a headstrong, womanising soldier of relatively limited experience but outstanding leadership qualities and occasional flashes of military genius. Octavian may have used the proscriptions to get women to sleep with him; Appian says Antony certainly did so – and names some. Southern suggests persuasively that he underwent a character change when crossing the Alps after losing the Battle of Mutina – he became much more calculating and ruthless vide his vendetta with Cicero. He may also have been an alcoholic – something life with Cleopatra exacerbated.
Fulvia One of the most powerful women of the late Republic (and there were several) First married to Clodius Pulcher the notorious gang leader & political fixer. Started a riot that nearly destroyed the city when he was murdered by rival gangleader Milo on the Appian Way. Then married another politician Scribonius Curio – who died in battle. Then she married Antony and was a very active part of his rise to power especially after Caesar’s assassination. She seems to have accepted his constant womanising and even stood by him raising armies to fight Octavian in Italy while Octavian was attacking Antony and Cleopatra in the east. She is reputed to have stuck pins and a stylus through Cicero’s tongue when Laenas brought his severed head to Antony.
Saxa & Norbanus Lucius Decidius Saxa & Gaius Norbanus Flaccus were the two generals Antony sent ahead of his invasion of Macedonia with several legions each and orders to secure his army’s approach routes, which they did until they were forced back by Cassius and Brutus soon before the final battles at Philippi.
Popilius Laenas a Tribune who asked special permission to be the man who executed Cicero. Took his head and hands to Antony and Fulvia.
Used some of his reward to have a gold statue made of himself standing with one foot on Cicero’s severed head. In these books, a brutal villain working for Octavian.
Herrenius Popilius Laenas’ Centurion and accomplice.
Brutus Marcus Junius Brutus Husband and first cousin to Porcia Catonis. The ‘heart’ of the plot to assassinate Caesar; traditionally presented as the one who insisted that only Caesar should die – a decision later presented by Cassius and Cicero as a major error. A better administrator than general, however noted as a ruthlessly efficient tax-gatherer (vide Xanthus below).
(Xanthus) A city not a person. Committed corporate suicide rather than pay Brutus’ tax demands (42BCE/712AUC). Before/during his siege, the entire population is recorded as having killed each-other with the last survivors setting fire to the city before killing themselves.
Quintus Dellius Although in this story an alias used by Artemidorus without much thought, this is me setting things up for later. Dellius was a real person – sent to Cleopatra by Antony after Philippi to ask why she failed to support the Triumvirs. Dellius apparently fell under her spell. It was he who arranged the meeting at Tarsus on the River Cydnus that famously swept Antony off his feet.
Cassius Gaius Cassius Longinus the ‘head’ of the plot to assassinate Caesar. Brutus’ brother-in-law. A ruthless politician and an able soldier (on land and sea), he was forgiven by Caesar for his part in the Civil War when he fought on Pompey’s side. He was famous in the East for leading 10,000 survivors out of Parthia after the defeat of Crassus at Carrhae. He had no trouble raising troops therefore and was (briefly) appointed Governor by the Senate. He advanced on Egypt and may just have been about to invade when he was recalled by Brutus to a meeting in Sardis – where they planned their final campaign against the Triumvirs. He is reputed to have had problems with his eyesight.
Herod Herod (Later Herod the Great) Prince of Galilee at this time, later King of Judea. (Senate approved him King of the Jews in 40/39BCE). There is some question as to what extent he followed the Jewish faith. His relationship with the Parthians was more usually negative than positive, especially later; but his positive relations with Rome allowed him to rule for 33 years. He died in 4 BCE and is therefore not the Herod referred to as being visited by the Magi in Matthew’s Gospel (it was Herod Antipas)
Cleopatra Cleopatra VIIth Philopator perhaps the most enigmatic figure in history. Modern scholarship emphasises that her reputation far outstrips her actual importance. She was a client ruler of an admittedly significant country in Rome’s sphere of influence. The last one, as Augustus replaced the Ptolemies with personally-appointed governors after her death. In 42BCE/712AUC she was in considerable danger. The Nile had not inundated for 2 successive years & the grain harvest had failed. Vermin (esp rats) from the fields invaded villages & towns bringing Plague. A sizeable proportion of the population of Egypt died. Even though she opened all the grain stores (Pharonic and Religious) her starving people were on the verge of open revolt – especially in the always fractious Alexandria. Cassius and his 12 legions (4 of which were the turncoat Egyptian legions) was at her borders considering invasion. Providentially Brutus called him North to Sardis and Cleopatra found a way to buy grain from Parthia. She did in fact take sides with Antony and built a fleet to help him – but it was destroyed in a storm. An angry Antony was later to send Quintus Dellius to find out why she had let him down so badly at such a crucial time. But as recorded above, Dellius simply engineered the meeting in the city of Tarsus which she famously approached in her golden barge down the Cydnus River. And the rest really is history.
Bibliography
Major source in each category:
Ancient:
Appian The Civil Wars
Modern (General)
Life of Caesar podcast by Cameron Reilly and Ray Harris
Ronald Syme The Roman Revolution
Mediterranean:
Ernle Bradford Mediterranean Portrait of a Sea
Via Egnatia:
Firmin O’Sullivan The Egnatian Way
Alexandria:
Harold T Davis Alexandria The Golden City (2 vols)
Legions:
Lawrence Keppie The Making of the Roman Army
Pollard & Berry The Complete Roman Legions
Secret Service:
Rose Mary Sheldon Trust in the Gods but Verify: Intelligence activities in Ancient Rome
Ships:
Rafaele D’Amato Republican Roman Warships 509 – 27 BC
Philippi:
Si Sheppard Philippi 42 BC The death of the Roman Republic
Augustus:
Adrian Goldsworthy Augustus from Revolutionary to Emperor
Antony:
Patricia Southern Mark Antony A Life
Cleopatra:
Stacy Schiff Cleopatra A Life
Death At Philippi
Peter Tonkin
For
Cham, Guy, Mark and Allanah
As always.
I - The Drowning Centurion
i
For a moment, the queen saw herself as Isis, Goddess of the Sky, looking down on the destruction she had caused. It seemed that she hovered like her God-son Horus the falcon, just below the billowing black storm clouds, riding the rain-laden blast. As far as the eye could see, her enormous fleet rolled, storm-bound, helpless, side-on to the towering seas. Huge waves ran relentlessly northward, pushed on by the brutal wind towards Greece, their tops streaming ahead of them torn into sheets of white foam flying; walls of water crashing into the vessels as though they were reeling wooden cliffs, throwing up huge clouds of spray which the wind whipped northward with the waves.
The great ships rolled and heaved, tossed and pitched, masts and rigging going by the board, oars flailing in the air like the legs of hundreds of helpless beetles as the relentless mountains of water smashed in through their oar-holes and washed across their decks. Emerald green at first, but all too soon turning red, like alexandrite after sunset. Bronze rams at the stems of some ships shattering the sterns of others as they ran out of sea-room to manoeuvre. There was hardly a vessel in the whole armada that seemed safe and under any sort of control. The devastation she had instigated was complete – and the protected anchorage of Krete was still many storm-tossed leagues to the south.
‘Majesty,’ said Admiral Minnakht, his voice a distant whisper.
Isis the Mother, Wife and Mourner could see all too clearly what this disaster was going to cost in human lives; more, in the lives of sailors, ship-handlers and oarsmen who would take as much time and effort to replace as their broken ships. Men had already been crushed by falling masts and spars; by the collapse of battle-towers at the stem and stern of most of the wallowing warships. These, dead and doomed to die, were joined by the poor souls washed helplessly overboard, clad for the most part in armour that would drag them straight to the bottom of the sea and directly to the gates of the afterlife. Sailors – Egyptian or Roman – rarely learned to swim in any case; swimming would only draw out the agony, postpone the inevitable, ensure you were still alive when the sharks came.
‘Majesty,’ repeated the admiral more forcefully but with little more effect.
Isis, Protector of her People, began to assess the damage on a wider scale. The terrible storm and her fatal order to turn and run for shelter had destroyed her entire navy even more efficiently than the Roman fleet she had set out to crush. The mighty vessels breaking apart all around her had been built with one double-edged purpose: to help the Roman Triumvir Mark Antony win his war with Brutus and Cassius and, through that victory, to ensure the continued safety, influence and power of the Two Kingdoms and the Ptolemies who had ruled them since the days of Alexander.
But that was all gone now. Or, if not quite gone then very nearly so. Certainly, this ruined navy was no longer in any position to support Antony, his colleague the young Octavian or their embattled friends. For the time-being, their armies must remain trapped in Italy, blockaded by the fleets com
manded by the men who had murdered the queen’s god-like lover Gaius Julius Caesar, threatening to overcome his friend, lieutenant and heir. And if Antony lost this war, then the Two Kingdoms were lost forever and she would be the last of the Ptolemies.
‘My Queen,’ said Minnakht and something about his tone at last called the soaring goddess back to her all-too frail and fallible human body.
*
The queen looked around the wreckage of her flagship. The great quinquireme Alexandros heaved and tossed as madly as the rest of the fleet. Everything was in bewildering motion as the wild water washed to-and-fro across the lead-lined deck. The fallen mast, sliding at last over the windward side, dragged the rags of the sail and the tangle of rigging with it – not to mention several bodies; almost all dead. At what cost to the oars it must have fallen on, she could not begin to calculate. It never occurred to her that the oar-master below would have ordered that they be pulled back aboard out of harm’s way.
The prince her son, Egyptian god and son of a Roman god, staggered into her, driving his shoulder against her thigh. She reached down without thinking and stroked his helmeted head. He was rising six and fighting to control his terror at what his mother had done. Mere moments ago, it seemed, he and she had been standing atop the aft fighting tower, watching the enemy fleet in the distance, confident that the power and the numbers of their own great navy assured an easy victory. Then in the blink of an eye the storm caught them and the fatal order to run for shelter was given. A seeming heartbeat later still the royal mother and son found themselves lying entombed beneath the wreckage of the fighting tower which was itself trapped beneath the fallen mast. But they had been rescued by men and women who were willing to die in order to save them. Some of them actually died in that brave attempt – crushed beneath the shattered timbers. Others would surely die.
