Read Last Seen in Massilia for Free Online Page A

even more horrible fate that had already overtaken Meto? My weary imagination spun out of control.
    “I’ll tell you what,” said Vitruvius brightly. “I saw a couple of folding chairs over by Trebonius’s tent. I’ll fetch them. We can sit here together and wait for the sun to come up. Reminisce about the siege of Brundisium, or whatever. You must have fresh news from Rome. I can’t imagine what it’s like there now, with Caesar’s friend Marc Antony left in charge. One big orgy, I should think. Stay here.”
    He went off to fetch the chairs and quickly returned, with a couple of blankets as well.
    We talked about Caesar’s chances of putting a quick end to his enemies in Spain; about Pompey’s prospects of raising a formidable force in the East to challenge Caesar; about Antony’s reputation for drunken carousing. Sober or not, Antony had maintained strict order. The moodin Rome, I assured Vitruvius, was far from orgiastic. Stunned by the tumult of the last few months and fearful of the future, the city held its breath and walked on tiptoes with round eyes, like a virgin in the wildwoods.
    We talked about the famous Roman exiles who had taken up residence in Massilia over the years. Gaius Verres was the most notorious; as governor of Sicily his rapaciousness had reached such extremes that Cicero had successfully prosecuted him for malfeasance and sent Verres packing for Massilia, taking a fortune in plunder with him. The reactionary gang-leader Milo had fled to Massilia after being found guilty of murdering the radical gang-leader Clodius; what would be his fate if Caesar took the city? There were scores of such exiles in Massilia, including men who had been convicted of various political crimes under Pompey’s campaign to “clean up” the Senate; some were no doubt as crooked as crone’s teeth, but others had simply made the mistake of crossing Pompey and the anti-Caesarians who had ruled the Senate in recent years. Inside the walls of Massilia, there must even be some old followers of Catilina, rebels who had chosen flight and exile over falling in battle beside their leader.
    I stared at the walls of Massilia and the dark, hulking behemoth of the city beyond and wondered if Verres and Milo and all the rest were sleeping. What was it like to be a Roman exile in Massilia with Rome’s new master knocking at the gates? Some must be quivering with dread, others with jubilation.
    Vitruvius told me more about the siege. The first major engagement had been a sea battle. A surprisingly small Massilian navy of seventeen ships had ventured out of the harbor. Caesar’s twelve ships sailed from behind the islands to meet them. Massilians watched from the city walls, while Romans watched from the hill upon which we sat. “Not much of a navy,” said Vitruvius, disparaging his own side. “Ships hastily thrown together with green wood, heavy in the water, manned by soldiers who’d never sailed before in their lives. They didn’t even bother to try to outmaneuver the Massilians; they just rammed straight ahead, caught the enemy ships with grappling hooks, rushed on board, and fought hand-to-hand across the decks, as if they were attacking ondry land. The sea turned red with blood. You could see great patches of red from up here, bright crimson against the blue of the sea.”
    That battle went badly for the Massilians. Nine of their seventeen ships were sunk or captured; the rest fled back to the harbor. Only the powerful offshore wind, for which the southern coast of Gaul is famous, kept Caesar’s ships from pursuing; with the wind against them, only experienced Massilian sailors were able to maneuver through the straits and into the harbor. But the battle confirmed the blockade. Massilia was cut off by both land and sea.
    There might yet be another sea battle if Pompey managed to send naval reinforcements to the Massilians. But Vitruvius remained convinced that the conflict would be settled on land, not water, and