Brutus looked relieved not to have had a straight refusal. “After the rope is anchored, the rest will slide down. I can do that.” He raised his right arm and opened and closed his fist.

Julius shook his head. “Not this time, Brutus. The gods alone know how difficult it will be to cross those roofs. Worse, if your arm gave way and you fell, they would know we were trying to get out.”

Brutus took a deep breath. “As you order, sir,” he said, disappointment clear on his face.

“We could tie his wrists to the rope we’ll use to slide, sir,” Domitius said suddenly. “Even if his arm goes, he won’t fall then.”

Brutus turned in astonishment to Domitius, and Julius saw how much his old friend needed to be back in the fight.

“If you sink the ships, you could have to swim. There’s a good chance you won’t be coming back. Do you understand that?”

Brutus nodded, a touch of his old wildness showing. “Let me go. Please,” he said.

“All right, but if your arm snaps, you stay on the first roof until it is over.”

“Yes, sir,” Brutus replied, his face strained with tension. He clapped his hand on Domitius’s shoulder as Julius turned away, and Domitius accepted it with a nod.

Below their feet, the hammering went on.

Though the sun had set, the grounds of the palace were lit with bonfires at all points and arrows soared sporadically up to the roof and against the windows. The army had either settled in to starve them out, or were waiting for catapults to arrive. Julius watched from a high window, well hidden from the sight of their archers. He hated to be trapped and hardly dared reveal how much his hopes were pinned on the men clambering across to lower roofs at the back.

The time would come when he was forced to send the legions out against the army that faced them, he knew. When the moment was perfect, he would try for a shattering blow, but against such numbers he feared he would be leading them straight to destruction. Cleopatra had been invaluable with her knowledge of their tactics and strengths, but the Tenth and Fourth were vastly outnumbered even so. In his most private of thoughts, there were times when he wished he had simply left the city when his time was up. Then he would grow angry in reaction. He would not run from a rabble of foreign soldiers. If he had to, he would find supplies and send for reinforcements from Greece and Spain. The Egyptians would learn what it meant to threaten the life of the man who ruled Rome.