A shuttered lamp was found and lit without delay and Brutus nursed the flame, extending the wick. The merchant vessels were built of old timber and would burn to rival the lighthouse.

Two of the stolen ships were in position and Brutus could see men lashing them together. He was thankful for the limp sails and weak breeze then. Such delicate maneuvering would have been difficult in anything stronger.

As he came alongside, ropes were thrown and his own ship creaked and groaned as the lines tautened, finally resting to rock in the waves from the deeper waters. As the anchors were sent splashing over the side, Brutus could see the galleys of the port watch were almost on them.

He wished he had a corvus bridge to be lowered onto the enemy ships as they came alongside, and acted on the idea, calling his men to lash planking together into a rough substitute.

“Light them up!” Brutus bellowed, hoping his voice could be heard on the other ships. He spilled the oil of his lamp across a pile of broken wood and watched flames rush along tar-covered ropes. The speed of it was appalling and Brutus hoped he had not acted too soon.

As the fire spread, he could hear angry shouts on the galleys and then his ship shuddered as they were rammed. Brutus laughed aloud at the thought of the hull being broken down below. The port watch was doing their work for them.

As the ship began to list, Brutus had his men heave the great section of planking over their heads, letting it fall onto the railing of the ramming galley. It was not solid and it shifted with the rocking motion, threatening to fall. The galley oars were already backing to pull them free. Despite the danger, the legionaries leapt onto their bridge and charged the other deck, facing the terrified crew.

It was carnage. As Brutus had hoped, the galleys were manned with only a few dozen above deck and the chained slaves below were unable to join the fight. In a few heartbeats, a slick of blood stained the dark wood and the legionaries had transferred across, letting their makeshift bridge fall back into the sea.

Behind them, the flames were roaring, making an inferno of the tilting ship. It went down fast and for a moment Brutus feared the vessel would sink so deep that the harbor would still be passable. As he watched with a pounding heart, the vessel stuck with a full third out of the water. Cleopatra had been right. The harbor had not been dredged in generations and even shallow-hulled ships were sometimes caught there on a low tide.