Rubicon

by Linda Coleman

  “To begin with, I did not think of it, but perhaps it would have been better that way for all of us. Rebecca would still be alive if she had stayed here. She was young and beautiful and I loved her. She was much more than the woman you ever knew. She kept herself hidden from you because she hated you so much. I knew she could have had so much more here in this life and instead she suffered at the hands of some of the biggest bastards I ever knew. I wanted to save her. You do not know what could have been changed for the better.”

  “Or what could have become a lot worse. Rebecca could have ended up there alone without either of us to try and protect her. Curio and Antony would’ve had her that first night and probably killed her in the process. You are talking about playing God. What gave you that right?” Melissa was incensed at Victor’s lack of judgement.

  “What gave it to you?” he countered. “You did not know any more of Caesar’s future than you read in a book, and that is what you used to save yourself. I cannot blame you for that, but what about me? I have read your books too, Lissa, and I am not in any of them. There is only one Vitruvius in any of those books in that library and he is not me. You knew nothing of me, yet you controlled my life, playing with me just like a god in one of those Greek poems you used to encourage me to read. You tried to control Mark Antony too, because you thought you saw a different man to the one history has portrayed, but Fortuna would not let you change the past concerning him any more than she would let me change your future. No matter what our actions, the end result is the same, Lissa. I began to realise that when Anthony announced his grand plan to get you back. You were the best thing that had ever happened to him in either life. He was lost without you and would have eventually destroyed himself, just as his father had and, I have to admit, I would have been lost without him. I had to help him get you here, so you could go back to the past and we could start this cycle again. Rebecca had to go back so he would be born. You had to go back to keep him and history safe. I always knew you would come back one day, but I did not know when. Fate wants you to be with Anthony. Why else did you come back to him when we came through almost thirty years ago? You are meant to be together here and now! Accept it. I have.”

  Melissa thought hard for a moment. She knew she loved Anthony, but there was a nagging doubt in her mind whether their life could ever go back to the way it had been. After all, she had been in his father’s bed. Would he ever be able to forgive her for that? She changed the subject. “What about Anthony’s amazing finds? They were around here, weren’t they?”

  “It was the money you and I buried along with your jewellery. I knew where it all was, and I steered him to it. There is still some money left, along with your lapis necklace. That too is buried on land that Anthony will own when I am gone. I have left the map of its location to you in my will. It is your property, Lissa, to do with as you please.”

  Melissa sat in silence remembering that beautiful necklace and the circumstances in which she had come to own it. It only confused her more, knowing that the man who had given it to her may have come to love her as much as his son did. Had her feelings for the son transferred to the father? Was he the one she really loved?

  She changed the subject again and asked Victor another question. “Did you know that when you are gone, Anthony intends to tell the world the truth about his life and about what you did to me?”

  “If you have ever loved him, you will not allow that to happen. More questions will be asked than either of you can answer. Then you will both be disgraced. Anthony has already proved he is his father’s son in so many ways. Would you want him to be destroyed over the love of a woman, just as his father was?”

  “Now who thinks he can tell the future?” Melissa tutted and shook her head.

  “DO NOT BE SO STUPID!” Victor slammed his stick against the tiled floor in annoyance. “Think, Lissa! Someone will ask questions about your lives before this dig. Someone will ask about Rebecca and how will you explain her disappearance? It is only luck that she has no one who cares for her in this life. If she had any family it would be different, but luckily for you she does not. Who would believe that she died in the past, long before she was ever born? What is done is done. It cannot be changed. You have an exceptional brain, Lissa. Use it to keep yourself as safe now as you did two millennia ago. You promised Antonius’ mother you would not let any harm come to him as long as you lived. Her lemur, or ghost as you call it, is always watching. She will hold you to that oath.”

  Melissa sat in silence, thinking about Rebecca. Victor was right. They could never explain her disappearance. If Rebecca’s ghost was watching she would no doubt haunt Melissa for eternity if anything ever happened to her son. Victor was right about Anthony too. Victor may have stolen Melissa’s work for his Master’s, but the Doctorate was Anthony’s own work. It was him she loved, not his father, and she loved him exactly the way he was.

  It had always been Anthony she loved. Every day she had spent in Rome, it was the thought of him waiting for her that had kept her going. Every night, it had been him she had pretended was holding her. She could not bear to think of his reputation being ruined and all his past achievements becoming barely more than footnotes in modern texts. He had plenty of faults, but he was a better man than his father and he deserved a far better fate.

  Somehow she and Victor had created a paradox. She was not sure whose actions had started it, but they were caught in a loop in time that seemed destined to repeat itself no matter what actions were taken to stop it. She too felt that fate had decided the outcome long before either of them had played their part. She only regretted that two innocent people had died as a result.

  Melissa was distracted by a jeep turning into the drive and heading to the house. Anthony was back and she still had no idea what she was going to do. There was one final question she had time to ask. “How much does Anthony know?”

  “He knows Rebecca was his mother. Beyond that he only knows that which directly concerns your disappearance.” Victor rose out of the chair with some difficulty and steadied himself with his stick. “He knows nothing of who his father was or of your relationship with him. That is not my story to tell, Lissa. How much you tell him, is for you alone to decide.”

  Victor slowly walked along the veranda and back into the house as Anthony bounded up the steps and straight over to Melissa. He bent over and planted a kiss firmly on her lips. “Miss me?” he asked, smiling at her.

  “More than you could ever know,” she replied, returning his smile. She took his hand, pulling him down to sit next to her. Her demeanour became more serious. A relationship built on lies and deception was not worth having − Melissa knew that from her love-hate relationship with Mark Antony. His son deserved to hear the truth and all of it, no matter how much it might hurt both of them. Only then would they be able to move on with whatever direction their lives took.

  She had made her decision and spoke out with a calmness she did not feel.

  “Anthony,” she said, “we really need to talk.”

  Authors Note: The Mists of Time: Rubicon

  Mark Antony has fascinated me for many years. He is the stuff of legend: a fearsome warrior, an infamous lover, a loyal friend. His history was written, in the main, by men intent on belittling his achievements and emphasising his faults. That is something with which I can personally empathise, and is perhaps why I find him so interesting.

  I have tried to keep to the historical facts as closely as possible in terms of events and timelines, though on occasion I admit I have used a little artistic licence to fit the events to my story. For example, it is a fact that Antony knew of the conspiracy to assassinate Caesar, but it is entirely my idea to take his involvement further than this. However, there is no record of him tormenting captives in the way described.

  Until recently, finding books on Antony was not easy. However, in the past few years a number have been published. My particular favourites are those by Adrian Goldsworthy and Patricia Southern, which
are both informative and eminently readable.

  Over the years many people have played Mark Antony on stage and screen and for most people I dare say Richard Burton’s portrayal in the 1963 movie CLEOPATRA is the epitome of Antony. Burton was undeniably one of the greatest actors ever to have lived and his performance was excellent, but I do not believe it accurately represents the man. In my personal opinion, the closest portrayal of what the real Antony may have been like was given by James Purefoy in the HBO series ROME. Purefoy’s Antony displayed a cunning and vindictive side that we do not see in Shakespeare’s interpretation of the facts. He gave us a man who was as intelligent as he was devious, with a good understanding of the politics necessary for his survival. His Antony had a delicious wickedness, making him the perfect bad boy we can all choose to love or hate. I have tried to replicate his fine portrayal in my Antony.

  A number of people have given me support in writing this book and I would like to thank them all for their patience, assistance and advice. Suffice to say, they all know who they are, and know I could not have done this without any of them. Some people do deserve a special mention. Firstly, thanks to my agent, Owen Burnham, for never giving up even when I tried to; secondly, to Maria Smith at The Booksmith, for liking my work enough to offer me a publishing deal; and then to Sheila Mackie, my editor, who has far more faith in me than I have ever had; to Giacomo, for proofing the same chapters over and over (you can read the whole book now!); to Caroline and Sonia, for much needed moral support; to my husband Richard, for ignoring the continual typing and the general lack of housework (you are a man who deserves better); and to my best friend Mark, for everything else.

  Lastly, I must say a personal word of thanks to James Purefoy. I doubt he remembers it, but he took the time to show an interest in the work of a complete stranger. I felt extremely honoured to speak to him, and that he agreed to let me mention him in this book. He gave me the inspiration to write, and that is why I have dedicated this work to him.

  About the Author

  Linda Coleman is an author of historical fiction novels. Born in Chatham in Kent, her interest in the Roman period was sparked by a school trip to Lullingstone Roman Villa. This interest was fostered during her time at Chatham Grammar School, where she studied the Classics. After joining the Civil Service at seventeen, she has since carved out a successful career in administration in both the public and private sectors. Writing is her hobby. She now lives in Wiltshire with her husband.