Free False God of Rome by Robert Fabbri

crowd towards them and stopped in front of Vespasian.
    ‘What are you doing here, stranger?’ he asked in Greek.
    ‘I’m no stranger,’ Vespasian replied with as much dignity as was possible covered in wet dirt, ‘I am Titus Flavius Vespasianus, quaestor of the province of Creta and
Cyrenaica of which this is a part.’
    The priest bowed. ‘Quaestor, you and your men are welcome.’
    Vespasian could feel the release of tension among the troopers behind him.
    ‘My name is Ahmose,’ the priest continued, ‘priest of Amun, He who is hidden, He who came first. You will find us loyal subjects to Rome here and I will assist you in any way I
can. I think that first you need to eat and then you can tell me how you managed to appear out of the western desert on foot.’
    Sitting rather uncomfortably on the carpeted floor, Vespasian, Magnus and Corvinus joined Ahmose in his surprisingly richly decorated house for a meal of bread, olives, dates
and a roasted meat that none of them had tasted before; although slightly tough they were all hungry enough to eat it without worrying too much about its provenance.
    ‘So you’re looking for the Marmaridae’s slave caravan,’ Ahmose said, having listened to the tale of their journey. ‘They will still be here; a party of them arrived
only four days ago, that’s why the camel tastes so fresh.’
    ‘This is camel?’ Magnus exclaimed, looking at the cut of meat in his hand.
    ‘Most certainly. The Marmaridae always pay for the right to use our water with camels each time they pass through; we also give them bread, dates and olives as part of the
exchange.’
    ‘Well, they don’t taste as bad as they smell,’ Magnus commented before taking another bite.
    ‘Yes, it’s quite flavoursome; their milk is good to drink too.’
    Magnus screwed up his nose. ‘Now that is disgusting.’
    ‘Don’t you have trouble with the Marmaridae taking your people as slaves?’ Vespasian asked, trying to get the image of drinking camel’s milk out of his mind.
    ‘No, they need us for water and supplies before they set off to Garama; if we denied them that then the journey would be even more hazardous than it already is.’
    ‘They could just take it,’ Corvinus pointed out, taking a bite of a large green olive.
    ‘There are over ten thousand people living in the oasis, we could fight them off; and if we were having trouble we could appeal to Caesar as we used to appeal to the Pharaohs when we were
a part of the Kingdom of Egypt.’
    Vespasian doubted very much that any sort of an army would be sent to defend this outpost of the Empire, but he kept his thoughts to himself. ‘How do we find the Marmaridae’s
caravan?’
    ‘They’ll be at the last lake in the southwestern corner of the oasis, about six miles from here.’
    ‘We’ll need horses.’
    ‘I’m sure you would requisition them if we didn’t give them freely.’
    ‘I’m afraid we would; as the quaestor I have that power.’
    ‘As the quaestor you also have the power to make those horses part of the tax that we pay each year.’
    Vespasian smiled at the old priest. ‘If you include javelins and enough supplies to take us back to Cyrene, then I’m sure that that could be arranged.’
    ‘Done, quaestor.’ Ahmose spat into his hand and proffered it; Vespasian took it rather gingerly. ‘But that is all the help that I can give you; if I give you men it might upset
the delicate balance that we have with the Marmaridae.’
    ‘I could requisition them as well.’
    ‘You could but I think you would have a problem: we are celebrating a festival of Amun at the moment, it runs from today for three days, in memory of Alexander coming here three hundred
and sixty-seven years ago to receive the wisdom of Amun. There will be a feast tonight in honour of him; you are welcome to join us. I will have the horses and weapons ready by dawn; you can leave
then.’
    Vespasian opened his eyes; it was thick night. His head spun