Tomb of the Lost

Chapter EIGHT



Dolabella stood in front of Caesar. He was battered, bruised and bloodied. They were back in Caesar’s war room in the Royal palace. Julius stood with both hands clasped behind his back next to the wooden model of Alexandria.

He listened intently without interrupting as Dolabella made his report.

A servant arrived with a bowl of clean water and began sponging off the worst of Dolabella’s blood and dirt. Another prepared bandages nearby in case they were needed. The worst cut wasn’t that bad.

Caesar waited until Dolabella had finished before speaking.

“How much ground have you gained?”

“In all Sir hardly anything. The ground we have won measures in feet not miles as would be usual.”

“That’d due to the difficulty of the narrow streets. That’s why we cannot use cavalry effectively. The horses would be almost unusable and quite useless. This is the only way.”

“Yes Sir.”

A servant brought a chair for Dolabella to sit on while his wounds were tended but he waited for Caesar to invite him to sit first.

“Please do.”

Dolabella sat gratefully.

“As soon as I gain any ground from the enemy they force me back. The fighting is like none I’ve ever known. The sheer numbers of the enemy are staggering. As soon as one falls another is pushed forward into the gap. It’s also a mixture Caesar, professional soldiers, militia, peasants. But they all fight as if their very lives depended on it.”

“And your losses?”

“Quite high.”

Dolabella’s shoulders suddenly began shaking at the enormity of what he’d said. He was a seasoned veteran but his lips trembled as he spoke.

“We’re having to storm the buildings and houses through the front doors. This is where my heaviest losses are. As we batter the doors down and go in the first of my men are cut down, unable to move by the weight of the men behind pushing them forward. There is no other way of taking the buildings. If only the houses were like those of Gaul, wood and thatch, we could burn them out.”

Though still listening Julius was studying the wooden model. The other General’s seated nearby. Then a thought struck him.

“Do we have any battering rams in the armoury?”

“Yes Caesar.”

“How solid are the walls of the houses and buildings here?”

The General’s left their seats to join him.

“They’re fairly strong,” Germanicus answered,” Mud brick, the roofs tiled. Virtually impossible to set fire to. The weight of the roofs devastating in earthquakes, causing the buildings to collapse and burying the occupants inside.”

“Is that if all the walls collapse?”

“I would think so Sir.”

“Ah but what about just one?”

“Sir?”

“The houses and buildings here have how many doors? One?”

“Most do Caesar. Some have two. The public buildings more.”

“Let’s suppose they all have just one door. Now behind every door are townsfolk waiting for unsuspecting legionaries and presumably they are also guarding the windows.”

“Yes.”

“Then what if we go in through the walls.”

“Through the walls?”

Dolabella pushed aside the sponge that was mopping at his forehead. He got up and joined the others, all in a circle now around Caesar, giving him their undivided attention.

“Yes through the walls. Take the battering rams and assault the walls of the first house whilst still attacking the door and windows thus forcing the defenders to split their coverage further stretching their defence.”

“That’s ingenious Sir,” Marcellus was excited, “Should we attack as many walls as is possible with each building?”

“No just the one for now. We don’t want the buildings coming down on top of us. We will move on from house to house in this way.”

“It’s brilliant Sir,” Marcellus again, “You are the wiliest, cleverest, wisest man in the whole world.”

“Save your praise Marcellus until we have the victory.”

“We will win Sir. With you in charge what could possibly go wrong.”



“Now!” Dolabella shouted. Despite his wounds he had insisted that Julius let him continue the assault. These were after all his men.

The eight legionaries manning the hand held ram brought their arms back and drove them forward. The ram smashed into the wall at the side of the first house. Across the street, directly opposite, another team did exactly the same.

Inside the first house a man sitting at a low table looked up and at the wall. The other occupants of the house, armed with a variety of weapons, glanced about nervously. They were guarding the door and windows.

“What was that?” he asked.

None of them moved or answered. Again there was a thump against the wall. He got up and went over to the wall carrying an oil lamp. Darkness had descended over Alexandria an hour before. He couldn’t see anything unusual about the interior wall. He glanced over at the man at the window.

“Can you see anything?”

The man shifted position.

“The street is filled with Roman legionaries but then it was before.”

“Is that all you can see?”

“For the moment.”

He held the oil lamp up again as there was another thump at the wall. Dust drifted down and settled on his shoulders. Then again, thump, thump, thump. More dust came down.

“Can any of you see what is happening?”

“Just a moment,” One man answered. He got himself into a position where he could see through a crack in the barricaded front door. He saw a legionary’s face up close, close enough to see the stubble on the man’s chin, even in the dark. He moved back for a moment and then took another look. The Roman had moved.

“They’re everywhere,” he whispered.

Then he saw clearly across the street for the first time and his eyes widened.

“They’re going through the walls!” he shouted.

The man with the lamp reached him in five steps.

“What?”

“See for yourself.”

The man with the lamp pressed his eye to the crack in the door. He could see what the other had seen. Across the street a team of legionaries was throwing all they had at a large house. Another thump at the wall behind him made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Suddenly the legionaries began shouting as the ram forced its way through the other house. He saw a team push past the ram bearers and he saw the front door fly open and the defenders rush out shouting and screaming in terror only to be mown down by the soldiers in the street. Then suddenly faces surrounded his view through the crack and he knew they were also doomed. The wall thumped again and this time the whole building seemed to shake. The legionaries outside began banging on the door and shouting loudly to add further confusion.

“This is it!”

The man with the lamp picked up his blacksmith’s hammer and rushed back to the wall just as it and part of the roof collapsed on him. His lamp was buried and the flame snubbed out leaving that part of the room in darkness. Legionaries scrabbled over the fallen rubble crushing the man further and as the defenders of the house rushed over to repel the invasion Romans burst through the door slashing and stabbing with their swords, bringing the defenders down. The man in the rubble, layered in dust, was trying to push himself up. A legionary stood on his hand. Surprisingly he felt no pain from it. He was disorientated, he had ringing in his ears. He felt weight pressing down on him. Past his eyes he could see feet moving. From far away he heard screams, they seemed far away or they could be muffled. He tried again to push himself up. The last Roman through the breach slashed down with his sword and cleaved the man’s skull in two. The battering ram was brought through and the team fumbling around in the near dark began working on the next wall to the next building.

From up on the battlements Julius Caesar watched the scene below as his army slowly took the streets of Alexandria.

“It is slow work Sir,” Germanicus said.

Caesar unrolled a hand drawn map of the city and held it near a torch. Germanicus took one end to steady it.

“Once we have taken this street as far as those points there,” Julius said pointing to two locations, “We can hold easily from there and spread in both directions. Then we can set up the Ballista’s and concentrate on knocking down the barricades. We need to clear a direct route to the harbour to allow a supply line.”

“This map is fairly accurate Sir.”

“It’s Queen Cleopatra’s. She has given it to me.”

He thought about her again. About their lovemaking.

‘The Gods. Was that only two days ago?’

There was a shout from the top of the gate. Both Generals looked up. In the dimly lit street they could see the enemy running towards the Romans screaming their battle cry.

Dolabella both heard, and saw, them coming.

“Take up positions!” he roared drawing his sword.

His second in command rushed over as the legionaries began forming up their basic defence positions.

“Sir what about the teams assaulting the houses and buildings?”

“You’d better stop them in case they end up behind enemy lines.”

“Yes Sir!”

The man rushed off.

Dolabella turned to Marcellus.

“It looks like we’re in for a long night.”

Marcellus drew his sword.

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep with all this noise anyway.”



Julius Caesar and his General’s had retired for the night. They were all sitting, drinking wine. Outside the palace the streets had fallen silent. Spies had reported to Caesar that the Alexandrian’s were holding a public meeting to discuss tactics. One thing Caesar had been told was that the Alexandrians had all agreed on one thing and that was the absolute need, and no matter the cost, they had to eradicate the Romans from Egypt forever. And Caesar was sure that was exactly what they intended to do.

“We’ve conquered four city blocks today Caesar and are able to hold them.”

“What are our losses?”

“Forty seven dead. Thirty two wounded.”

Caesar bit his lip.

“Forty seven and it’s only day one. There could be another hundred like it. We’d better pray help arrives soon.”

“Mithridates Sir?”

“Yes. Mithridates.”

“We’ve managed to kill over three hundred of the enemy Sir,” Marcellus piped in, “Are you not pleased with these figures?”

“We have less than five thousand men. Alexandria is, was, a city of over one million and if all the inhabitants fight like this, well, you do the maths.”

Marcellus fell silent and stared into his wine cup.

“And what of Achillas Caesar? When will he fight?” Dolabella asked.

“Like a man you mean?” replied Germanicus, “He hides behind his army like a coward.”

“He’ll fight soon enough,” Julius said.

“When is what I’d like to know,” Marcellus said.

Germanicus, feeling frustrated at this stalemate they seemed to be in, got up out of his chair and put his goblet down.

“The wine is strong tonight. I’m going to get a cup of water. Would anyone else like one?”

They all declined. He walked over to the nearest fountain, took a clean cup, and filled it.

’That’s odd,’ he thought, ’It looks cloudy.’

He raised it to his lips and took a mouthful. His taste buds tasted salt instantly. It was brine. He spat the water out splashing the floor with it.

“It’s brine!”

Caesar jumped to his feet and rushed over to the fountain. He took Germanicus’ cup and smelled it, then took a swig, swilled it with his tongue and spat the offending liquid into the fountain.

“Check the others!” he ordered, “Have the whole palace checked.”

Minutes later and the report wasn’t good. The palace no longer had fresh running water.

“Send men out to search for the source,” Caesar said, “We must pray it’s just a broken pipe somewhere in the system.”

“It’s more likely to be sabotage isn’t it Sir.”

“I hope not. Gentlemen we must keep this from the men. They can fight without food but water? Thirst can make men go mad.”

Lucius came rushing in. He beckoned Caesar over.

“Yes what is it?”

Lucius spoke quietly for a short time. Then Caesar dismissed him. He came back to his Generals slowly.

“It seems we have another problem tonight.”

They gathered round to listen.

“Queen Cleopatra’s younger sister Arsinoe, who I was holding in confinement has apparently managed to escape the palace guards with her eunuch Ganymedes and gone over to Achillas.”

“I don’t see how such a whelp could be a threat Sir,” Dolabella said.

“Have you not already noticed that the two sister’s are so much more intelligent than their brothers.”

“I still fail to see of what use she was to us.”

“On the contrary I was considering making her and the young Ptolemy joint rulers of Cyprus.”

Germanicus had a puzzled look on his face.

“You don’t approve Germanicus?”

“I don’t understand Sir. I heard you say in the street and if I may quote you, you said, ‘I will not leave until Egypt is mine’”

Caesar smiled to himself.

“That was a boast.”

“Boast?”

“A bluff then. It is true that when I followed Pompey here I did intend to annex Egypt to Rome, but now, since meeting Cleopatra and getting to know her, I….” he paused, “….From tonight gentlemen we back Queen Cleopatra’s claim to the throne.”

The General’s were silent. Finally Germanicus said.

“Of course Sir. Whatever you decide on I will follow.”

“I agree,“ Dolabella said.

“And I.”

“And I.”

“Then gentlemen let us set up our artillery tonight and tomorrow at dawn we will unleash hell on Alexandria!”