The side door was solidly made and Julius was forced to control his impatience. He checked the edge of his sword, though he had yet to blood it. Then the tone of the impacts changed and the door fell. His Tenth roared into the breach and Julius heard screaming inside. He stayed close to the front, shouting orders and directing them as best he could. The palace looked very different from his previous visit by day, and it took a few moments to get his bearings.

“Tenth, with me!” he shouted, racing through a hall.

He heard Octavian and Domitius panting at his back and allowed his pace to slow a little. It would do no good for him to run straight onto the swords of defenders around the king, and the two generals were better able to clear the way.

Even as he had the thought, the black corridor seemed to fill with men, and Julius saw Octavian and Domitius dart in with their swords swinging. The only light was from a lamp much farther down and the combat was brief and terrifying, bodies struggling in shadows. The Roman armor held against the bronze blades of the palace guard, and in only a few moments the first of the Tenth were stepping over the dead and rushing on.

“Which way?” Octavian said, spitting blood from a broken lip.

Julius wished for more light, but could make out the white gleam of marble stairs he had ascended a lifetime before.

“Up there!” he said, pointing.

His breath was coming harshly and his sword had lost its gleam with the stain of an unknown guard, but he ran with the others as they pounded up the steps. Cleopatra had told him where her brother slept and Julius took a turning away from the meeting hall into a corridor that was better lit than the rest of the labyrinth. Once more, he saw Octavian and Domitius take positions ahead and suddenly he was shouting for them to stop.

They had passed a door that seemed to be made of solid gold. Julius looked around for the men who carried hammers.

“Here! He’s in here,” Julius called. “Hammers to me!” He threw his weight against the door, but felt no give in it.

“If you’d stand back, sir,” a burly soldier of the Tenth said at his shoulder.

Julius stepped clear as the man raised the iron head and began a pounding rhythm, quickly joined by two more. The corridor became the focus for the Roman force, with defensive stations taken up around it while the last obstacles were broken.

The gold was heavy but it dented under each blow and it was not long before one of the great oblong barriers sagged away on a broken hinge.