Rubicon

by Linda Coleman

  Antony pulled his hand away from Rebecca’s stomach as quickly as if he had just put it into a fire. He stormed over to Melissa. “What is this she accuses me of? Does she dare to suggest I have fathered a child with her?”

  Melissa nodded. “She is most insistent that you have.” Rebecca had followed Antony and was trying to get his attention by grabbing his arm, but he continually pushed her hand away.

  “Why me? Why not him?” Antony pointed at Vitruvius, who was too shocked to respond to the allegation now levelled at him. “He lives here with you. He has more chance than I do to give her a good poke.”

  “I agree that he does, but Vitruvius does not visit Rebecca’s bed in secret when I am out, nor would he dare to misuse the property of Caesar in such a blatant manner. Do not play games with me, Antony. You gave me your word that you would not touch her and still you have been with her. You and Curio both have.” Melissa made the last statement very deliberately and then waited to see what Antony would do.

  “I said I would not touch you, Lissa. I never agreed to the same for that one.” Antony pointed over his shoulder at the poor wretch standing behind him and then paused as he considered what Melissa had just said.

  “But Curio, you say ... hmmm ... that is a fair point.” Antony took the bait Melissa had so generously dangled. “I am not the only one your friend has been pleasuring. The child could well be his, yet I do not see you accusing him of this act.” He turned on Rebecca and grabbed her shoulders. “Curio did this to you?” he kept repeating the words as if he was trying to convince her it was the truth. Melissa could hear the desperation growing in his voice.

  “No,” Rebecca said and shook her head. Antony began to shake her by the shoulders, still repeating Curio’s name until Rebecca began to cry. It was a pitiful sight to watch, but the truth of how Antony felt was finally beginning to register in Rebecca’s shell of a brain. She pulled away from him and ran from the room, tears streaming down her face.

  Melissa tried again to get Antony to admit his guilt. “Curio has not been accused, because Curio is not to blame. Rebecca knows when her last monthly cycle was. Her current situation happened here, in this very house, a place that Curio has never visited. This mess is of your doing and yours alone. Tell me, Antony, does your good friend Curio place the blame on you for his mistakes?”

  “Now who is playing games with whom? Take care now, Lissa. I will not fall into another of your traps so easily,” Antony retaliated. He realised he had been tricked into blaming Curio and he was annoyed by his own recklessness. He was desperate to think of a way to turn the tables on this infuriating woman who was able to outwit him so easily, and smiled suddenly as a way came into his mind. “This has nothing to do with her, does it? This is about you. You are jealous that she has been where you dared not go. I should have seen it before. Your continual flattery of me on our journey to Corfinium, the way you cared for my injuries at Brundisium, even persuading Caesar to let you remain here in Rome was all to be near me. You have wanted to feel me between your thighs all this time! You merely have to ask Lissa, and I will gladly oblige you.”

  “You flatter yourself. I would not have you if you were the last man alive,” Melissa snapped back. She was blushing, but she had no idea why. Her best defence was to attack him again. “I am disappointed in you, Antony. I believed you to be a better man than this, but you are no more than a savage brute that is prepared to take advantage of a pitiful girl to satisfy his lust. What will Caesar have to say when he returns and discovers how well you have been following his orders?” Melissa’s sarcasm was cutting and pushed Antony’s patience to the limit. He grabbed Melissa’s wrist and pulled her towards him, twisting her arm painfully behind her back as he did so.

  “And what do you intend to tell him? I doubt it will resemble the truth,” he sneered. “Will you tell him how your slutty little companion came to me whilst I slept in my bed. How she excited and mounted me before I was fully awake, making it impossible for me to prevent it. Or perhaps you will tell him how she willingly entertained both Curio and me on several occasions, first one, then the other? No, you will not tell him any of this, nor will you tell him how you failed to see any of it happen. This situation is wholly of her making and it is hers to deal with. It cannot be laid at my feet.”

  Antony was bursting with rage, but rage and passion are two emotions similar in intensity, and easily confused. The proximity of Melissa’s body next to his, mixed with her apparent embarrassment at his suggestion that she was attracted to him, had already given Antony the wrong idea. This idea was merging with his intense passions and awakening something primal in him. He wanted to silence Melissa once and for all, to teach her some respect and bring her to heel. He could no longer resist, and gave into temptation. He moved to kiss her and, to his surprise, she made no effort to resist him. In fact, she began to respond to him, encouraging him to pull her closer.

  Unfortunately Antony had forgotten there was another person in the room. “Get out,” Vitruvius finally said, coming to his senses in the nick of time. His initial shock was slowly turning to rage, but he was speaking as calmly as he could manage. He could not believe Rebecca guilty of the behaviour Antony was implying; he would not believe it. She was a goddess to be worshipped, not some cheap whore from the backstreets of the Subura. He would not allow these lies about her to continue.

  Antony pulled back slightly and both he and Melissa looked at Vitruvius, but Vitruvius did not return their gaze. He sat perfectly still, back straight with his hands on his knees, staring into space and repeated his request to Antony. “I am asking you, sir, to let go of Lissa and leave. Please, do so. NOW!”

  “You dare to give me an order in my own house? Remember who you are talking to.” Antony barked. He was astonished at such behaviour from a subordinate and he was not prepared to let it go.

  Vitruvius exploded. “THIS IS NOT YOUR HOUSE. IT IS CAESAR’S!” He stood up and threw the chair across the room at Antony, who instinctively turned Melissa away from the missile, covering her body with his to protect her from harm. It narrowly missed his head, breaking in two as it hit the floor. “GET OUT NOW OR I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND.”

  Antony released Melissa and pushed her behind him, still protecting her without consciously realising what he was doing. Melissa was shaking, but she was unsure whether it was from fear of what had she had nearly allowed to happen, or from Vitruvius’ uncharacteristic display of rage.

  Vitruvius took a deep breath to help control his temper, and then began again. “I have always been loyal to you. I have carried out every order you have given me to the best of my ability. I respected and admired you as the kind of man I wanted to be one day, but you are not worthy of that respect. In this act you have betrayed me as much as you have betrayed these women who were in your care. How can I ever trust in you again after this?”

  “Those are strong words, my friend.” Antony eyed Vitruvius suspiciously. “Be very sure of yourself before you say anything more.”

  Antony’s eyes darted around the room looking for a weapon and began to move slowly towards the broken chair. Melissa knew they were going to fight unless she intervened.

  “Stop it both of you!” she screamed, making both of them turn their attentions towards her. She pointed at the door. “Go, Antony, please, before one of you does something you will both regret. I do not want to have to explain either of your deaths to Caesar.” She forced herself to turn her back on Antony and moved towards Vitruvius, placing her hand on his arm, making it plain whose side she was taking.

  For a moment Antony stared at Melissa’s back in amazement. She was the one responsible for this. She had goaded him, lit the fire beneath his passions and now she expected him to leave, despite the challenge to his authority that had just been made. Backing down was not in his nature and he wanted to retaliate, but not against Vitruvius. That poor sap was only following the orders that Antony himself had given. It was Melissa he really wanted to fight with, b
ut he could not decide whether he wanted to kill her, or kiss her again. She was slowly driving him mad with her hot and cold attitude. He kicked the remains of the chair in frustration and stormed from the room.

  As the full realisation of what had happened hit him, Vitruvius collapsed against the wall, his face full of pain as he looked desperately to Melissa for an answer to the question uppermost in his mind. “What have I done?” he whispered as he began to think about the possible consequences of facing down his commanding officer, and the career he had most likely thrown away.

  Melissa did not see or hear from Antony again for months. He resumed his tour of Italy with Cytheris in tow. Desperate to forget the woman who infuriated him, Antony deliberately avoided all contact with his charges, choosing instead to spend every available moment with his mistress, a woman who was guaranteed to indulge his whims. The problem was, every time he closed his eyes, it was Melissa’s face he saw and not hers.

  Rebecca hardly spoke to Melissa after she announced her pregnancy. Antony had stopped his secret visits as Melissa knew he would, but Rebecca chose to believe Melissa had deliberately driven him away. No matter how hard Melissa tried to explain the truth of the situation, it made no difference. As far as Rebecca understood it, Melissa was jealous of her for having stolen Antony’s interest. All of this behaviour formed part of the revenge Rebecca so desperately wanted. She had a romantic idea that Antony would come back before the baby was born and support her, leaving both his wife and other mistresses in the process. When he did, she would become mistress of their household and she relished the day she could put Melissa in her place once and for all.

  Rebecca now preferred to spend her free time with Vitruvius. He had been a little cold with her to begin with, but had soon forgiven her indiscretions. Vitruvius still loved her regardless of what she had done. He was more disappointed that the man he looked up to had made no attempt whatsoever to help. He was well aware that Antony could not take responsibility publicly for the child of a foreign prisoner, but privately he had hoped Antony would have made some provision. Vitruvius had always believed Antony to be a man of the people. Antony’s father had been descended from plebeians, the ordinary residents of Rome, even if his mother was one of the Julii, the same noble patrician family as Caesar’s. On campaign Antony certainly did his utmost to be one of the men and this was why he was so well thought of, but now the fighting was over, he displayed the same superior nature of any member of the upper classes. Rebecca was beneath him, and he was treating her with less respect than he would a slave.

  Vitruvius continued to teach Rebecca Latin and helped her make plans for the baby’s arrival. He even purchased some basic things she would need from his own money. Items such as a cot were far too expensive to come from the limited funds Caesar provided and Vitruvius was more than willing to help. He knew Rebecca would never love him, but equally he knew she needed him, and that was enough. Secretly he hoped that if he was always there to support her, one day her feelings for him might change. He hoped she would to grow to care for him, if she could only find it in her heart to let him in.

  As Rebecca and Vitruvius spent more and more time together, Melissa became increasingly isolated. Being alone did not worry her particularly, or so she thought to begin with. She had never had many friends and while she had some scrolls to read she was quite content to sit alone in the courtyard, or occasionally to wander around the crowded streets of Rome on her own. Now that Vitruvius was so disheartened by Antony’s actions, he was more willing to ignore his orders and allow Melissa to go out unescorted.

  Melissa had always loved the city from the first time she had visited on a school trip, and she made the same trip whenever she could afford it, but the Rome she was trapped in bore no resemblance to the one she knew so well. There were no markets built by Trajan and no trace of the Domus Aurea, Nero’s extravagant palace, as neither emperor had been born. Equally, the Arches of Constantine, Titus and Septimius Severus would not be built for centuries. The mighty Colosseum of Vespasian, which so dominated the Forum complex in Melissa’s time, was not even imagined in an architect’s wildest dream. Instead there was a jumble of narrow, dirty streets lined with inns, shop fronts and multi-storey tenement blocks. People thronged in every direction, going about their business with little concern for anyone else, a sea of bobbing heads that washed past Melissa as she wandered through them, totally alone.

  Gradually, Melissa found she was missing Vitruvius’ company, but, worse still, she knew she was missing Antony. He drove her to distraction at times, but he was so interesting to be with. He stimulated her mind in ways that she could never hope for from either of the people she lived with, and she secretly enjoyed the constant battle of wills that they were engaged in. She found his sheer presence exciting in more ways than she dared to admit, even to herself.

  Chapter 14

  Everything changed in November when a victorious Caesar retuned from Spain, sending word ahead to Melissa to thank her for her helpful insights for his campaign. He also sent copies of his Commentaries − journals he was writing about his exploits. He felt she might find them interesting, and encouraged her to comment on them.

  Caesar also sent word of two other less than happy events that he hoped Melissa would have been wrong in predicting. Antony’s brother, Caius, had surrendered to Pompey’s forces in Illyricum and was now held prisoner. Worse still was the news from Africa. Curio and Pollio had been enjoying many successes against the Pompeian allies until they were lured into an ambush by King Juba and his Numidian army. Pollio and a handful of others escaped, but Curio died fighting alongside his men. Antony had reacted badly to the loss of his closest friend, but had nonetheless volunteered to take the news of his death to Curio’s widow, Fulvia. That had been two days ago and no one had seen or heard from Antony since.

  Caesar was deeply concerned for the well-being of his favourite protégé and asked whether Melissa could provide some insight into Antony’s whereabouts. Whilst she could take an educated guess at what he was doing, history had not recorded the specifics of Antony ever disappearing on a drunken binge at this time. She simply replied to Caesar that Antony was grieving for a man who meant more to him than any brother by blood. He needed time to mourn the loss, but would resurface before the week was out. All she could do was pray it was true.

  Melissa found she too was worried about Antony. She was still waiting on tenterhooks for an historical bombshell to hit, caused by their presence in the past. So far, nothing appeared to have changed, but she still worried. Yes, Antony was a total bastard at times, and she believed she could cheerfully run him through herself, but she had witnessed another side to him. There were times when he could be so affable that she could not help having intense feelings for him. That was why she had stupidly allowed him to kiss her. She was certain she did not love him, but she did care for him and hated the thought of him suffering alone.

  Melissa begged Vitruvius to visit a few of Antony’s known haunts to try to track him down and bring him to his senses. Vitruvius was less than certain whether this was advisable, believing that the best way to treat a man in a foul mood was to leave him be. In his opinion, trying to reason with Antony would be impossible, saying he would find it easier and safer to hold onto the tail of a tiger, but, despite his misgivings, he agreed to try. He searched the most likely places that evening, but Caesar was correct: Antony had not been seen in any of them. The next evening Vitruvius went out to tour the inns and whorehouses in the Aventine district by the river. It was not the most salubrious of areas and he could not imagine Antony would ever frequent it under normal circumstances, nor that Caesar would think to look for him there, so it was as good a place as any to try next.

  It was late when Melissa heard a knock on the door. Rebecca was asleep and Vitruvius had not yet returned. She considered ignoring it, but feared another knock would wake Rebecca, who would then use the disruption as an excuse to whinge. Melissa went to the door and cautiously slid
back the peephole. From what she could see there was no one outside. She began to think she had imagined it when a set of fingers gripped the rim of the opening, making her jump. Then she heard Antony’s drunken voice.

  “In the name of every god that exists, let me in. I am cold and wet − and in need of a drink!”

  Without thinking about what she was doing, Melissa opened the door and Antony fell through it onto the floor. He looked a mess. Wherever he had been for the past three days it had been dirty and disgusting. His clothes were covered in filth and the traces of vomit. His hair was unkempt and he had not shaved. Above all else, he stank of a mixture of wine, vomit and urine. Melissa checked the street, but there was no sign of Vitruvius. She kicked Antony’s feet out of the way and closed the door. She was going to have to deal with him alone.

  Dragging Antony to his feet, she staggered with him into the main room and dumped him on a couch, where he promptly vomited again. In her youth Melissa had seen Anthony Marcus in a similar state too many times to mention, and she knew what to do. She left him while she went to get water, towels and a clean tunic from Vitruvius’ room. She had stupidly left a glass of wine she had been drinking on the table and when she returned he was about to down it. She took it away from him, putting it well out of his reach. Then she closed the doors to keep the noise down. She dreaded the thought of having to answer Rebecca’s questions if the girl woke up and saw Antony in such a state.

  “Take off your clothes,” she said in a matter of fact way.