The Blood of Gods A Novel of Rome - By Conn Iggulden Page 0,116
along the shore and stole tools or simply gaped at the darting galleys. A city’s worth of men had descended on Lake Avernus and Agrippa had been forced to hang two of his carpenters for murdering a local during a botched theft. He had guards on the only road east, yet there were constant attempts by Neapolis officials to come out and demand things from him, either justice or compensation for something his people had done. If it hadn’t been for the sight of new galleys growing by the day, he thought he would have despaired, but Octavian’s silver poured out and ships were made and rested. The green wood would warp and twist over the winter, needing constant care and repair, but he had teams for that work as well.
The surveyors were waiting for him to give the signal and Agrippa only stared wearily, checking a thousand things in his mind to be sure he had not missed some crucial aspect of the canal that could not be redone once he had opened it. He looked along its length, seeing the smooth lime concrete that covered the clay beneath. It would hold water as well as any bridge pile, he had been assured, but still he worried that the entire length would drain away, leaving him with a lake that was suddenly too low to bring his galleys out.
Agrippa took a deep breath and prayed to Minerva. The goddess of artisans would surely look kindly on such a project as a canal to the sea. That thought brought another prayer to Neptune and finally Agrippa made the horned hand to ward off ill-luck. He could not think of another god or goddess worth asking, so he raised his arm and dropped it.
‘Come on,’ he murmured. ‘Go well.’
The gates had been made with immense beams of wood standing out from each side and locked in place with iron bars set into stone. As the bars were pulled out, he had a dozen men on each one, but the pressure from behind would be with them. He watched as one brave builder climbed down into the trench and used a hammer to knock out a main strut. The teams took the strain, holding the waters back while the builder rushed out again. As soon as he stepped clear, they reversed their pull and water began to roar through, the noise indescribable. The teams were forced back step by step, despite their best efforts. The line of rushing water became a cataract, spraying water high into the air.
The gates came right back into their slots against the walls of the canal and the teams stood panting, their job done. Agrippa began to jog, then ran along the length as fast as he could go. The waters outpaced him and he saw a great wave rise above the final blocking gate, lifting twenty feet or more into the air, so that all the men there were drenched and laughing. He arrived as the water settled back into a placid surface, with mud and torn plants swirling. The sea was on his left shoulder and he only wished he could have driven the canal right out to it in one go. Barely fifty feet of sandy soil remained, but his surveyors had insisted on another gate before the final breakthrough, in case something went wrong with the levels or, worse, they were seen from the sea and attacked before they were ready. Sextus Pompey had ships somewhere out there on the dark water and he could land ten thousand men if he saw something interesting on the coast.
A great cheer went up as the labourers saw the canal fill and hold, the level equalising with the lake. Agrippa grinned at last, wishing Maecenas and Octavian were there to see it. Pride swelled his chest and he laughed aloud, enjoying the smell of salt and seaweed that was strong in the air. When they finished the last section, they’d have the same routine to do again, but he’d have the new galleys waiting in line for a mile, backing up onto the lake. They’d come out in a rush of brown water and Octavian would have his fleet to hunt down the galleys of Sextus Pompey.
Mark Antony was walking the cliffs with Lepidus, looking down on the port city. When he had last been to Brundisium, six mutinous legions waited for him to take command and pronounce punishment. Now that vast assemblage looked small in