and the topmost part, in which were housed the mirror and fire, circular. The whole edifice was crowned with a giant statue of Poseidon and ornamented by four statues of Triton at each corner of the base. He could not imagine any building ever surpassing it.
‘Stop gawping, Ziri, and go and pack up our stuff,’ Magnus ordered after a few more moments of admiration. ‘We’ll be docking soon.’
‘Yes, master.’ The little Marmarides scuttled off towards their cabin in the stern of the ship.
Vespasian shouted after him: ‘And don’t forget-’
‘No, I won’t forget Sir’s fucking box,’ Ziri shouted back, cutting him off.
Vespasian looked at Magnus. ‘Do I have to put up with that sort of cheek?’
Magnus shrugged. ‘You don’t have to, you could always ask me to keep him away from you, but then, seeing as you didn’t bring a slave of your own, who would look after your needs?’
‘I can see that it’s high time that I invested in my own slaves,’ Vespasian said. Hitherto he had always relied on his parents’ or Gaius’ slaves and it had never occurred to him to purchase his own; even when he had been in Cyrenaica he had been looked after by the official slaves in the Governor’s Residence. ‘The trouble is they’re so expensive to buy and then feed.’
‘Once you’ve cashed that bankers’ draft with Thales you’ll be able to afford plenty; until then stop moaning when I lend you mine for free.’
The ship slipped through the harbour mouth and all thoughts that Vespasian had about the hideous expense of slaves were put to one side. The Great Harbour of Alexandria was built on a scale that matched the Pharos: almost two miles across and a mile and a half deep. To his right was the Heptastadion, a huge mole, seven stadia or one thousand four hundred paces long and two hundred paces wide, that joined the Island of Pharos to the mainland; beyond this, in the commercial port that was almost as vast as the Great Harbour itself, Vespasian could see the massive hulks of the grain fleet docked next to large silos. To his left was the Diabathra, a dog-legged mole, equally as long, that ran from the harbour mouth to the Temple of Artemis next to the Royal Palace of the Ptolemys on the natural shoreline. Between these two mammoth man-made sea defences the waterfront was lined with buildings that rivalled in grandeur even those of Rome. At the waterfront’s central point, on the tip of a small promontory, stood the colonnaded Timonium, built by Marcus Antonius after his defeat at Actium by Augustus. West of this, extending to the Heptastadion, were the jetties and quays of the military port. Here the massed triremes, quadremes and quinqueremes of the Alexandrian fleet bobbed at their moorings, looking clean and pristine after their recent winter refits. The sun glinted off their half-submerged bronze-plated rams and picked out the innumerable tiny figures toiling on their decks. Speckled around the three square miles of the harbour were a plethora of other, smaller craft, with bulging triangular sails and escorts of cawing seagulls, going about their daily routine, whether as lighters, ferries or fishermen, and adding to Vespasian’s impression that he was entering the busiest and grandest port in the world.
Vespasian marvelled at the vision of the man who had caused all this to be built out of nothing: Alexander the Great, whose breastplate he had come to take back to Rome for the Emperor who thought he had surpassed him. Looking at this majestic city, just one of the many that Alexander had founded in the huge Empire that he had conquered, he realised the depths of Caligula’s delusion: the greatest feat to be achieved by man had already been realised. No one would ever surpass Alexander — not even Julius Caesar or Augustus had come close to what he had accomplished in his short life. The best that anyone could hope for now was to be a pale shadow of the man whose legacy, or at least part of it, lay in front of Vespasian, bathing in the hot summer sun where, before Alexander’s coming, there had been only a small fishing village perched on baking sands.
The trireme glided towards the dock; an order was bellowed and the larboard oars were shipped. The starboard oars backed water gently and with a soft thud and much shouting of sailors and dockers the ship’s side came to rest against the thick wooden poles protecting the stone jetty. Lines were made fast, the foresail was furled and the gangplank lowered; the voyage was at an end.
Having confirmed with the
‘Easy, sir; we can’t have a senator falling flat on his back in public like a vestal the moment she’s completed her thirty-year vow.’
‘Yes, thank you for reminding me, Magnus,’ Vespasian replied testily, steadying himself for a few moments before handing his imperial warrant to the aedile. ‘Senator Titus Flavius Vespasianus here on the Emperor’s authority.’
The aedile read the document carefully then glanced up at the imperial banner fluttering on the masthead and raised his eyebrows. ‘That seems to be in order, senator. It’s four years since we’ve had a member of your order here; the previous Emperor banned you on the advice of his astrologer.’ He paused for a wry chuckle. ‘And arriving on one of the Emperor’s personal ships no less; what can I do for you?’
‘I wish to see the prefect immediately on imperial business.’
The aedile nodded and turned to the optio. ‘Hortensius, escort the senator to the Royal Palace and then stay with him for the duration of his visit to provide him with any assistance that he needs.’
Vespasian muttered his thanks while suspecting that he had just been put under military guard.
‘That is completely out of the question,’ Prefect Aulus Avilius Flaccus informed Vespasian, having been apprised of Caligula’s wishes. ‘If the breastplate were to be removed, the whole of the city’s Greek population, which is by far the largest section, would rise up in outrage. They worship Alexander and any sacrilege by us to his mausoleum would be seen as a declaration of war. Caligula’s edict about putting his statue into all temples has already got the Jews up in arms, and I can’t give the Jews a short, sharp shock and deal with the Greeks at the same time.’ His firm-jawed, suntanned face set rigid and his dark eyes stared at Vespasian from underneath silvering brows, defying him to argue. Through the window behind him the expanse of the Great Harbour glistened in the late afternoon light. A gentle sea breeze blew in, cooling the chamber that Cleopatra, Julius Caesar and Marcus Antonius had all held audiences in.
‘But it’s Caligula’s wish.’
‘Then the little shit should wish for something else.’
Vespasian was taken aback by this open insult to the Emperor by one of his Governors. ‘You can’t talk about the Emperor in those terms, especially not in front of a senator.’
‘And who’s going to tell him? You? Well, go ahead, I don’t give a fuck.’
Vespasian drew himself up. ‘As a member of the Senate I outrank you, so I demand that you give me the breastplate.’
‘You may be a senator and I only a mere equestrian but here in Egypt I rule, and I’m telling you that unless the Emperor wants Rome’s grain supply cut off for the rest of the summer while I put down two rebellions, he can ride across his pathetic bridge wearing something else. And you can tell him I said so.’
‘He’ll have you replaced, brought back to Rome and executed.’
‘He was replacing me, with Macro, but when he ordered him to kill himself he decided to reconfirm me in my appointment. I was hoping when I saw you that you were bringing my imperial mandate but that seems to have slipped the Emperor’s mind; but no matter, I’m sure that it will arrive soon. But even if he does change his mind and decides to recall me I won’t be going back to Rome. We may be a thousand miles away but I’ve still heard the stories. Caligula’s mad, he even had his cousin executed for coughing; there’s no way I’m going to set foot in Rome while he’s emperor.’
‘You can’t stay here, surely?’
‘Of course I wouldn’t, the world is a big place and being prefect of Egypt is a very lucrative position; I have the money to go anywhere.’
Vespasian was about to contest the point but then thought better of it and decided to change the subject. ‘I have some personal business to attend to that will take a few days and would appreciate being accommodated during that time.’
Flaccus smiled in a conciliatory manner. ‘In that matter at least I can be of service, senator. I will have a suite of rooms placed at your disposal; you’ll find it very spacious here. I hope that you will dine with me this evening; my wife and I have a few other guests.’
