Melissa turned her head to look at man beside her. She was completely confused. Mark Antony was closer to Caesar than any other man. Yes, they had had their differences, but he was Caesar’s second-in-command and would share the consulship with him the following year. Surely he could not mean what he had just said? Was he just trying to play her?
Antony sensed her confusion. “You think I have too much to lose by betraying Caesar. Have you considered I may lose more by supporting him?”
Melissa rolled on to her side. “Explain your meaning,” she said, unable to hide her growing curiosity.
Antony obligingly continued. “Caesar has not been the same since his return from Egypt, and for that we have only one person to credit. The more time he spends in Cleopatra’s company, the more Egyptian he becomes. Do not misunderstand me, I too have spent time in that country and I grant that there is much of their culture that would be good for us to assimilate into Roman life, but their system of rule is as corrupt as ours. It is my belief that Caesar wants to be king and he expects the people to want it too. He knows the patricians will not go along with such an idea, but the plebs just might if he bribes them enough. To begin with, it will seem like a brave new world, but eventually we will all become his slaves. Having a semi-divine ruler as head of state is a step too far for our Republic, and, it appears, for me. I like my life well enough as it is, thank you, and I will only go so far in helping Caesar to achieve his goals. I will not become his slave, no matter how well he chooses to reward me for my pains. But before I choose which side to support, I want to know what the alternative is and what your new friends are prepared to offer. So you tell me Lissa, who lives and who dies? If you truly see the future, why don’t you tell me what I am to do?”
Melissa considered Antony’s words. Perhaps he was sincere and perhaps not. She had never believed him good at politics because history had taught her he was not. Of course, history is written by the victors and Antony had not been shown in a positive light by any of the sources she had read. During her years in Rome, she had learnt history had been wrong about so much of Antony’s character, why not this also? When he was sober and lucid, he seemed to have a pretty good idea what was going on. She decided to test out just how far he would be prepared to go.
“If I told you the intention was to remove Caesar from office peacefully and to allow him to continue life as a private citizen, what would you do?”
Antony nodded as he responded. “I would want to know whether I can still take up my position as consul. If so, I could not be seen to assist any plot to depose him, but I may be content to remain blind to one developing around me. Far be it from me to stand in the way of progress. I would, however, suggest immediate exile would be safer than leaving him in the city to cause havoc by stirring up the masses, but not to Egypt. Cleopatra would place him at the head of an army so great even I would not fancy my chances against it. I would suggest house arrest on a nice little island just off the coast where he can live well, and be watched at all times.”
“And if Caesar were to die?” Melissa held her breath waiting for his response.
Antony shook his head. “No, I cannot condone that. Caesar has done more for me than any man. If his time is up, then so be it, but I will not play any part in his murder, not even indirectly. He is family after all, however distant.”
Melissa had only a moment to make the most important decision of her life. Antony as an enemy was a prospect too frightening to consider, but as an ally perhaps she could still control the situation at least for a while. Earlier on the journey home, she had toyed with the idea of changing history. Now she knew Antony would never go along with any plan that involved murder, and although Brutus and Trebonius would consider a less drastic solution, she knew most of the other conspirators would not. Antony had also been right in the comment he had made about the masses. Caesar would always be a danger so long as he could count on the support of the people and of Cleopatra. There was only one option: he had to go. Her hands were tied and her imagined Rubicon had faded from view. History had to be allowed to run its course with as little interference from her as possible, but now she knew for certain Antony could never know the entire truth.
“Then it is good that Caesar’s death was not under discussion. I am sure we would all prefer to be friends rather than enemies,” she replied, hoping he would not spot the blatant lie she had just told.
“I find it hard to believe Cassius would regard me a friend!” Antony grunted again at the thought.
“Cassius wants you dead.” Melissa was deliberately sharp in her initial reply, which was designed to shock Antony and distract his thoughts away from Caesar. She knew it had worked as she watched Antony raise an eyebrow, so she quickly continued. “He feels you are far too dangerous to be trusted. Brutus, however, is a man of reason. I have argued that a Republic without Caesar needs a strong man with the respect of the army at its head, until the situation settles. Brutus agrees with me and has given his word that you will not be harmed. I am content that he will honour his decision.”
“And why would you do that for me?” Antony stroked Melissa’s arm tenderly, as if suggesting her reasons were sexually motivated.
“I know what lies ahead. Nothing lasts forever and whilst the Republic will indeed end one day, your premature death will only hasten its demise. You are Rome’s future, Antony, not Caesar. I have always known this.” Melissa was trying to keep his mind away from sex, but she knew she was running out of luck.
“Well then, it appears I win either way. I can see advantages in waiting a little longer to see which way the wind will eventually blow. Be assured your friends will remain untouched for the time being, though you will not.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers tenderly before placing her hand against his chest. “We made a bargain earlier. I spared the life of that shit Vitruvius in return for the promise of having you. I expect you to honour it, and willingly at that.”
Melissa looked down at the mattress between them. “I will do as you ask, if you will promise to leave him alone always.”
Antony reached out and lifted her head until she was looking at him once again. “He really means that much to you that you would give yourself to me to save his pathetic life.” Antony looked genuinely surprised at her offer.
“He means that much to your son.” Melissa stared straight into Antony’s eyes so he knew she was telling the truth. Antonius had fought her when she tried to separate him from Vitruvius. The soldier meant far more to him than she did.
“But surely you will lose your gift and with it Caesar’s patronage the moment my body joins with yours. He will cast you aside for such a betrayal of his trust.” Antony was smirking. He had the look of a man who already knew all the answers, but he wanted to hear her admit it.
Melissa sighed deeply. Perhaps more honesty now would gain her a little more leniency. “I am no virgin. You are correct in your belief that I only said I was to avoid being taken by you and half the legion.”
“Cunning mare!” Antony declared as he reached down and slapped her on the backside. “Well, well, this changes things. You appear to have nothing left to bargain with.”
Antony lay looking at Melissa for a few moments. His expression was not one of victory, but one of admiration for a woman who had successfully pulled the wool over Caesar’s eyes for a very long time. He knew he had her at his mercy, and was not about to let a chance like this get away from him, but he wanted something more. Melissa was an amazing woman and he wanted her to welcome his attentions, but he knew that would most probably take time and a substantial amount of control on his part. Only in that way would his victory over her be complete.
“I will make you another bargain,” he said as he began stroking her arm again. “This one is to the advantage of us both. Caesar will not hear of your indiscretions from me, meaning you will retain his patronage and the money he provides. I will also agree to stop goading Vitruvius and so will not need to kill him
. My reward for granting these two favours will be to come to you as often as I like and you will willingly comply with whatever I ask of you.”
Melissa breathed in deeply. If she said yes, she would be Antony’s plaything for as long as he wanted. If she said no, he would rape her anyway and probably kill the others in their beds. She gulped and simply nodded again, unable to speak.
“Good. You will find I can be the most generous lover, given the right encouragement.” He ran his hand across her breast and she shrank away from his touch. Antony sighed, the impatience showing again in his voice. “I know I hurt you earlier, but that was your own fault. You have to trust me. Tell me the truth always and I will reward you with tenderness. Lie to me again, and the consequences will be very different.” He ran his hand back across her breast and this time Melissa was ready for him; she did not move.
“Better,” Antony smiled, his tone softening. “We are going to try this again, and I promise you it will do anything but hurt.”
Antony pulled Melissa towards him. She was shaking, more from fear than anything and no matter how hard she tried, she could not control it. He tried to kiss her, but her shaking put him off.
“What is it now?” The impatience was back in his voice.
“C-cold,” Melissa stammered. Antony looked at her. Instinct told him she was lying again, but she suddenly looked so small and frightened next to him. She reminded him of a sacrificial lamb being herded in its pen, evading capture as long as it could before eventually being pinned against a wall, its eyes wide open, frozen in terror. Despite his desperate urge to make love to her, he found he could not bring himself to do so. If he pursued her now it would have to be by force and any further attempts he made to bed her would always end in violence. Melissa had once called him a savage brute, and he was determined to make her retract that statement one day.
“Turn over,” he said quietly.
Melissa panicked. She could not face him taking her from behind. She knew he could hurt her too much. “P-please, I ...” she began, but Antony put his fingers over her lips.
“Shhh,” he murmured kissing her forehead. “Not another word. Keep to your promise and do as you are told.”
Melissa gulped. She could feel the tears welling up again and she complied as much to hide her face as anything else. She slipped her arm under the pillow and gripped the bed with her hidden hand. She shut her eyes so hard that she could see an imaginary kaleidoscope of reds and yellows moving inside her eyelids.
Antony rolled onto his back and reached for the lamp, extinguishing it. He turned back towards Melissa and moved behind her, spooning her body with his. Inadvertently, she moved away. He reached one arm over her waist and pulled her as close to him as he could. His other arm slid under the pillow and found her hand. Peeling her fingers gently away from the sheet, he wrapped his hand around them, before he spoke softly one final time. “If you are cold I will warm you. I do not want you to fear me − I want you to welcome my touch. Go to sleep. I will ask nothing more of you tonight.”
Melissa’s eyes shot open, trying to focus in the darkness. She could not believe her luck again. This was the second time Antony had backed away from a sexual encounter with far too much ease. There had to be a catch. It had to be a trick of some sort, but she could not think how. She stared into the dark for what seemed like an age, willing herself to stay awake, until Antony’s rhythmical breathing eventually lulled her into a deep, comforting sleep.
Melissa dreamed that night, so many dreams all rolling together into one long confusing memory. Her final thoughts were of a hilltop in Somerset a few miles from her home. It was a dream she had had so many times since she had been trapped in the past − a dream of the most beautiful place she knew and a place where she had always felt safe. Melissa was lying on the slopes beneath the solitary sycamore tree that crowned the hill. Someone was there with her. She could never see his face, but she knew it was Anthony. Anthony Marcus that was, not his evil doppelganger. They were lying together looking up at the stars, watching as the deep murky blues of night slowly paled into the glorious yellows and oranges of dawn.
They were naked, despite the coolness of the air. Anthony was kissing her stomach, slowly moving downwards onto first one thigh and then the other. He gently pushed her legs apart and began kissing between them. At the first touch of his warm, wet tongue against her, she sighed, filled with anticipation at his next move. As his tongue continued to deftly flick across her, she groaned with desire, pushing her hips upwards, moving closer to his kiss. She ran her fingers through his hair and as he began to move away, she pulled his head back down, desperate for him to continue. He obliged her a little longer, before moving back up across her stomach, kissing every inch of flesh. Her hands slid down over his back trying to pull him up quicker, but he did not alter his slow pace. As he reached her breasts, his kisses seemed to sting, but she was beyond caring. He was teasing her now and she wanted him all the more for it. As his lips reached her neck, she moved one hand under his taught, muscular stomach and slipped it downward to stroke his erection. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she guided him inside her, raising her body to meet every one of his thrusts. As their movements became more intense, she could feel her control slipping away. His hands moved under her buttocks, pulling her ever closer to him. The feelings were all too much. She was so close now to giving in to him that her breath came in short pants. She dragged her nails down his back making him groan with ecstasy. She heard him whispering to her, “Lissa, Lissa.”
Melissa’s eyes shot open. Anthony never called her that and she had never dreamed it before; something was wrong. She looked around her. There was no hilltop and no tree; she was in the bedroom of the house in Rome. She stopped moving instantly, but the realisation had hit her far too late to stop Mark Antony. Still thrusting deep inside her, his body tensed and convulsed as he climaxed. He collapsed on top of her, laughing as he pinned her to the sheets. She made no attempt to move. She was too disgusted with herself. Despite their uncanny similarities, she had succeeded in keeping the two men apart in her mind, until now. Even on the few occasions she had confused the two men, she had always pulled herself back to reality in the nick of time, but no longer. Whilst she had been dreaming of Anthony Marcus, she had inadvertently given Mark Antony a way to get to her. She felt the same wave of nausea rising up from the pit of her stomach as she had the night before.
Pushing against his shoulder, she managed to force Mark Antony to move off her body. He lay on his side next to her, making sure he left one leg over her to keep her in the bed. She turned her head away to the side, so she no longer had to look at him. He stroked her face and gripped her chin, turning her head back towards him. He was grinning at her, enjoying his victory. “I told you I would not hurt you, but this was far beyond my expectations!” The laughter was still in his voice, taunting her as he moved his head forward to kiss her.
Melissa pulled her head free from his grip. Without stopping to think what she was saying she blurted out what was in her mind. “You tricked me! I was dreaming of someone else!” As soon as the words left her lips she regretted them, suddenly fearing that Antony would not be pleased at such a damning revelation, but oddly he was laughing even more.
“Provided you continue to respond like that you can dream of whoever you want, for the time being at least.” He slid his body half on top of her and grabbed her face again. “One day I promise you, Lissa, I will make you want me and only me. There will come a time when you will beg for me to make love to you, and I will hear you say you want me and no other. His mouth closed over hers, smothering her. She wriggled against him, eventually slipping out from underneath him, but Antony caught her arm, preventing her from leaving the bed. He was still laughing at her and she began to blush. She glared at him, pulling the sheet up tightly under her chin to hide her nakedness.
“A little late for that I think,” he said, still laughing as he let go of her and got out of bed. Antony made no atte
mpt to wash. He pulled on his clothes and sat back on the edge of the mattress. Melissa had rolled into a ball facing away from him, pulling the sheet with her to cover herself, but exposing most of her back. Antony leant over and ran his forefinger down her spine. As he kissed her shoulder, Melissa pulled away from him, yanking the sheet even further and slamming her arm on the bed in a gesture of defiance.
Antony laughed again “Good day to you, my stunning temptress,” he said. “I trust you will perform as admirably on my return.” With that he left, his laughter echoing as he walked down the hall.
Vitruvius entered the room almost as soon as Antony left the house. Melissa lay so still, he was afraid that Antony may have gone too far and strangled or stabbed her. Part of him did not want to look, but he had to know if she were alive or dead. He approached the bed and spoke her name quietly. Melissa did not speak or move. Vitruvius reached out his hand and touched her shoulder and she pulled away from him giving the slightest whimper as she did so. Vitruvius’ relief was instant. At least she was alive. He sat on the bed and tried again to get her to talk, but she shook her head. Melissa felt totally humiliated by Antony. She could not bear to let Vitruvius see her like this. Eventually he withdrew, allowing her some peace.
Chapter 22
Antony did not return that night, or the next. He came back on the third and took Melissa directly into the bedroom, allowing her no rest until dawn. Their encounters became a fight for supremacy, Melissa doing her best to resist every advance, while Antony experimented with new ways to make her respond to him. Some nights, she could not be bothered to play his games and just lay there. On these occasions, sex became perfunctory and he would deliberately hurt her in his frustration. She tried hard to hide the bruises she received from Vitruvius’ watchful eyes, but it was not always possible and the more injuries she sustained, the more Vitruvius’ patience wore thin with his former mentor. Melissa’s fear that he would confront Antony once again grew more each day. She knew only too well that Antony would kill Vitruvius if the latter ever dared to challenge him again, regardless of any promise made to her to the contrary and she had to prevent that from happening, whatever the cost to herself. She began to fake enjoyment and it did the trick. Antony experienced less frustration and so became far less violent, meaning there were no more bruises for Vitruvius to see.
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