[right][h3]September 48 BC - Lefkosia, Cyprus[/h3][/right]
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Seiger balanced carefully on the gangway that had been set between trireme and stone quay. A heavy oaken barrel, filled with what smelt like ale, was balanced on one shoulder, the other arm straight out like a ships spare to provide some balance. The gangway was a replacement, little more than a plank, that had been fetched from the town after the main one had been accidentally dropped into harbour. It was still bobbing below next to the bodies of several dead rats and would remain there until the warship got underway.

He stepped quickly until he was in the middle of the plank, aware that his companions were watching him, more than a few hoping he might drop the wine. He paused and performed a small jig, hoots and shouts of encouragement coming as much from the auxiliaries and legionnaires on the as from the sailors above him on the high deck.

"Get a move on, you git." The Centurions growl finally cut short his foolery and he bounded up the plank to safely deposit his cargo on the deck where a sailor swept it up and vanished below decks. Seiger took a moment to look around at the harbour. The small white buildings with their tile patterned rooves still looked alien to him even after the better part of a year spent fighting in Iberia and Greece. He had to admit the whitewashed walls did wonders to keep the heat down. Even here, next to the water, it was impossible to completely escape the heat. It wouldn't be until the sun had dipped below the horizon that the cool wind would finally blow.

Beyond the harbour the hills rolled away into the islands interior. Life seemed so simply here. Till the earth, plant some vegetables, live your life in the sun, drink in the evenings and make love to your woman. It was a far cry from the blood and anger that had defined his life for so many years. Perhaps when his time was up, when he had served long enough to earn his slice of Roman dirt, he might come back here.

"Catch!" Seiger barely had time to brace himself before another barrel of ale slammed into him, sending him staggering back a pace, only just managing to manhandle the heavy container onto the deck. Kedrick grinned at him from where he had thrown the barrel, balancing on the centre of the plank. He now did his own impromptu version of a jig to the beat of several soldiers who banged wooden mallets on the side of the trireme. 

"Bloody lucky you caught that." A sailor remarked as he took the second barrel from where it sat at Seigers feet. The German grunted an agreement, his arms tingled from where the heavy wood had hit him but he was impressed, it was no mean feat to throw such a barrel, let alone hit what you were aiming at. 

Despite the antics of the Germans, the quay below as swarming with hundreds of soldiers and sailors as the fleet hurried to take on supplies. Caesar knew that his rival was only a few days ahead of him and bound for Egypt. The rumours in town were that Pompeii had sailed with only a few hundred men on a single ship. The harbour of Lefkosia, my comparison, was crammed with some two dozen big Roman warships whose crews owed their allegiance to Caesar. They carried just over a thousand auxiliaries and legionnaires with them. By Roman standards it was a small fleet, but to chase a defeated enemy, it was ideal.

"Make way! Make way!" The shout echoed down the quay in Latin, then in Gallic, and finally in German. The hive of activity opened to allow Caesar and his senior Centurions to move quickly down the stone, heads close together, hands gesturing as they walked. All saluted as they passed but none of the commanders noticed. The space they had created was swallowed up almost as quickly as it appeared. The shouting began again and a purpose seemed to reignite itself as Kedrick skipped onto the high deck.

"Looks like we might be on our way at last!" He grinned. Seiger returned the grin.