Blood Crusade

by Billita Jacobsen

  They all paled in comparison to Antony’s wife, Fulvia, who wore no makeup or jewels and still bore with no pretension the epitome of beauty. He was surprised to see her there but he should have known better, of course the spouse of Antony would be invited to meet the queen. His brother, Lucius, sat beside her, doting on her as usual. Yet Antony felt no love or desire towards her, only an annoyance that she was there and he’d have to tolerate her presence.

  His eyes were drawn instead to the Queen of the Nile. He noticed that she surveyed the room with a haughty gaze in her shining brown eyes which were framed with the thick black kohl make-up Egyptians wore to fight eye infections. She had the classic Greek looks of her ancestor, Alexander the Great’s General, Ptolemy.

  While her features were attractive enough, Antony thought, they didn’t compare to the striking good looks of the senator’s wives or Fulvia. Still, there was an essence about her, as if something divine had decided to pay mankind a visit.

  She had white, glistening pearls braided throughout her tightly curled, ebony hair. Heavy gold earrings, forming an ankh, dangled from her ears down to the jewel-laden Egyptian collar that stopped short of her perfect breasts which were lightly covered by a shear, silken gown that promised a peek of the bronzed skin underneath.

  Her red, ochre-tinted lips beamed in a genuine grin at the child seated next to her as he giggled and played with a brown lapdog. Antony knew with one image that this was the son of Caesar. He had the same nose and captivating smile. The child wore simple garb, a white toga with a Roman amulet, a bulla, around his neck to protect him from evil.

  “Antony, it’s about time you arrived!” Caesar exclaimed, rushing to greet his old friend. He pounded a welcome on his back and whispered in his ear. “Prepare to meet the most amazing creature on the planet.”

  Antony wanted to tell Caesar on his vampire encounters but was forced to listen as Caesar gave him the entire story of his history with the queen. This famous womanizer was clearly smitten. He had made her the ruler of Egypt after doing battle with her brother, Ptolemy XIII.

  Caesar intended to stand there and chat, he motioned for a slave to bring them goblets of wine. “What adventures I had in Egypt! I wish you had been there when we first met. This clever female was wrapped and hidden in a Persian carpet to escape assassins. What a pleasant surprise when she rolled out and presented herself to me!”

  Antony wanted to sit and dine but Caesar went on and on in excitement. “She knows seven languages…” Antony strained to hear Cleopatra’s voice in the background as it was so melodic that it drifted around the atrium, an equal to the sounds of the musician’s lyres and flutes.

  Antony began to feel happy for his aging friend. His vibrant blue eyes again held the shine of an effervescent life, when last he saw them he only noticed the wrinkles and how Caesar would squint. Now, he looked ten years younger--rejuvenated by love.

  “I captured Pharos lighthouse which gave me control of the harbor. That was the end of that little bastard brother of hers. Did you know that he had Pompey beheaded and thought that would please me? What a fucking idiot!”

  No doubt. Caesar and Pompey were at odds, but to not know their long history had sealed the boy’s fate. Pompey had been married to Caesar’s daughter Julia, and when she died in childbirth they had grieved together. However, Caesar would have forged an alliance with the young queen regardless of seduction.

  “Come,” Caesar said, finally stopping the rapid secession of gabbing, “meet the Queen of Egypt and little Caesar.”

  Antony jerked back. “I must tell you. I stopped to pay tribute to Calpurnia before arriving. She’s very worried about you.”

  Caesar’s smile dissipated and turned into a frown. The worry lines appeared on his forehead. “Thank you for checking up on her. Her loyalty to me won’t be forgotten but she needs to move on with her life.” He patted Antony on the back and moved him towards the ornate banquet table.

  Cleopatra only nodded and smiled as they were introduced. She quickly turned her attention back to the child and his lapdog. A black cat, no doubt brought from Egypt, jumped on the table, looking like a miniature black panther as it grabbed a piece of fish.

  Octavian, in a spot of honor as befitting Caesar’s favored nephew, raised his hand back to strike at the cat. His sister, who often interrupted his cruel ways, gently placed her small hand on his.

  Cleopatra grabbed the animal, holding it to her breast and stroking it head. “Now, now, little Isis, away from the table. Off you go,” she said, gently placing the cat on the marble floor.

  Straining to make small talk and desperately wanting her attention, Antony boldly announced, “Octavian, cats are sacred in Egypt. Harm one there and you receive the death penalty.”

  “We’re not in Egypt…” Octavian paused, looking at Cleopatra, “we’re in glorious Rome, where such silly laws have no place.”

  Caesar shot him a disapproving glance. Octavian quickly filled his mouth with wine. “No,” the queen replied, looking at the women in the room instead of Octavian, “we’re not in Egypt. In my country, women have the same status as men. We have women physicians and we’ve had female rulers since ancient times…Nitocris, Sobeknofru, Hatshepsut, Nefertiti…”

  Caesar cleared his throat, needing to stop such a volatile conversation, and said, “Antony, you must try the favorite Egyptian beverage--beer. I know you will appreciate its wonders,” Caesar said.

  Wonders indeed. Antony was known to try any fermented beverage. He greedily downed the beer, and then had two goblets of wine to wash away the taste. His tongue was loosening after two more beers. Ignoring Fulvia’s attempts to chatter about their sons, Marcus and Iullus, he decided instead to talk about the vampire scourge in Rome, telling all who would listen about his encounter on the way to the banquet.

  “I tell you, the fucking vampires are causing Roman citizens to piss their togas.”

  Caesar gave Cleopatra a knowing glance. She nodded her head in silent agreement. “I have an announcement,” he said, standing. “Vampires have been banished in Egypt and no longer terrorize their citizens. The citizens of Rome must also have this freedom. All vampires will be cast out from Roman lands tomorrow. This action will insure the glory and safety of Rome. Our actions today will affect the world tomorrow. We decide our future glory tonight--a Rome without vampires!”

  “Hear, hear!” Antony exclaimed, downing another beer. His head was spinning but he still caught the long critical look exchanged by Cassius and Brutus and noticed that they excused themselves and left the banquet soon after Caesar’s proclamation. Antony always enjoyed Caesar’s speeches and his ability to think ahead but live in the moment while planning for the future. He thought Cassius and Brutus were only being rude.

  Keeping the slaves busy bringing more wine, relaxed in the vices of the past, Antony settled into the comfort of a drunken stupor. He never imbibed when he did battle for Rome and he welcomed returning to enjoy his one true pleasure in life, letting his mind and its troublesome thoughts go numb.

  Fulvia pressed on Antony’s shoulder, gently shaking his body, trying to rouse him. “Come, my love, it’s time to go home,” she whispered in his ear.

  His brother prepared to stand him up and steer him out the door, as he had done many times before. Antony swatted them both away. “Leave me be,” he slurred and observed through slightly raised eyelids his brother escorting a weeping Fulvia away.

  He sensed figures standing over him and heard Caesar say, “The slaves will tend to him my dear, let’s go to bed.”

  The cold daylight disturbed what had been a deep sleep. The even colder water suddenly washing over him shocked his body into sitting up. The queen stood over him, clearly pissed off, handing the bucket she had just doused him with to a slave and shouting, “Wake up, you drunken oaf, Caesar is in danger and needs you!”

  He jumped up and prepared to take action but his feet weren’t steady and he heard Isis, the cat, screech as he stepped on her. Cleo
patra looked at him with fury in her eyes as she picked up the feline and stroked it. The cat hissed at him.

  “What? What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Brutus came to fetch Caesar this morning. He said the senators had arranged gladiator games in his honor at Pompey’s theatre. I had a bad feeling about it and someone named Servilius Casca just confirmed my worst fears,” she said with genuine concern.

  “Servilius was here--why didn’t he fetch me?”

  “No time. He said to tell you the senators who are not loyal to Caesar plot to assassinate him at the forum and he is gathering forces and will meet you there. Hurry!” Her soft voice, still melodic, while slowly uttering a word that didn’t escape her lips frequently…“Please.”

  He dashed out, steadying himself to do battle, and called back to her, “You and little Caesar are in danger too. Leave immediately for safety!”

  He rushed his stallion to full speed, racing through the streets of Rome to reach Caesar in time, as citizens jumped out of the way. Speeding past the coliseum, the columns at the temple of Venus and Rome a blur to his eyes, as he drove his horse on and on in pursuit of saving his friend. Reaching the entrance of the theatre, he shot from the horse, pulling his sword from the sheath and racing up the stairs to the monumental doorway.

  The opening was covered with heavy drapery. That should have been Caesar’s first warning not to enter the darkness. Pushing the curtain aside, Antony entered and knew at once that he was too late to save Rome’s ruler.

  A mob of senators and vampires were in an unbroken, crowded circle, passing the limp body of Caesar, his head back, eyes wide open in terror. Six vampires, including Claudius, had their teeth deeply entrenched in Caesar’s skin, sucking the life out of him. They shuffled along with his body, moving sideways while gorging themselves. The senators, including Cassius, Decimus Albinus, Gaius Trebonius, who had all been guests of Caesar the night before, were raising their arms up and down, each wanting a turn at stabbing him. The traitors were on the rostra, a platform where Caesar had given many great speeches, filled now with his blood instead of his strong words.

  Caesar’s head was flailed back and he tried to lift it when he saw Brutus in the circle, a dagger waiting to strike. “You too, my son?” he asked, weakly raising his arm and pointing a finger.

  “Assassins, back off!” Antony shouted, raising his blade and striking those nearest with his fury.

  They stopped feeding and stabbing and dropped Caesar to the floor. They slowly stepped back, in unison. Caesar gradually rose, like the warrior he was, and tried to walk towards Antony but his sight was blinded by a cascade of blood flowing from his head. He slipped on the red fluid carpeting him and soaking the marble and fell at the foot of Pompey’s statue, a reminder to Antony of Calpurnia’s prophetic nightmare.

  Brutus stepped forward and thrust his dagger into Caesar’s chest. “For the freedom and glory of Rome!” he shouted as Caesar grasped at the blade, then closed his eyes and moaned the sound of death.

  “No!” Antony screamed and rushed forward. “You fool! You would kill your own father to save these bloodsucking demons?’’

  Brutus released the dagger, leaving it imbedded in Caesar’s chest and turned to run, a confused look on his bloodied face. The human senators raced out the back door in a mad rush to escape Antony’s rage. The vampires jumped to the ceiling, and scurried along it in every direction like marauding cockroaches. None of them would have dared face Caesar alone in battle, but together they formed a pack to bring the great man down.

  Antony didn’t know who to pursue. He was alone in the defense of Caesar and actually surprised that they stopped attacking and simply fled--they could have easily killed him too. He bent down in sorrow and collapsed on the floor, cradling his dead friend and mourning a loss he knew would also mean the death of Rome.

  Chapter 10: The Last Pharaoh

  The cold water from the Nile river splashed over him like thousands of tiny arrows, too small to cause physical damage but harsh enough to be quite annoying. It was an all too familiar wakeup call and he groaned in expectation of facing another day of her wrath.

  She handed the bucket to a nearby slave who had supplied Antony with the beer he consumed in great quantities the night before. The slave grimaced slightly in pity for Antony’s plight. The queen’s fury at his drunkenness in a time of war was reflected in her water rousting that had become a regular occurrence.

  “Get up, you oaf!” she shouted in her usual greeting.

  “Your behavior is unbefitting a queen, don’t you think, my dear?”

  He silently wondered why he put up with such abuse. He would never have taken such treatment from any of his past wives. Then again, they would never have treated him so unkindly.

  Fulvia raised her voice at him only once. She loudly begged him to join her and Lucius in a revolt against Octavian. “You should be the ruler of Rome, not Octavian,” she pleaded. “It’s said that he conspires with the vampires. We must intervene for the good of Rome.”

  A ploy on her part, he thought, to keep him in Rome and away from Cleopatra. So he left Rome to rejoin the woman who made him happy, at the time, never believing that Fulvia and his brother would be so foolish as to battle Octavian.

  As a result, Lucius, with Fulvia by his side, had fought Octavian for control of Italy and lost. Antony made an uneasy truce with Caesar’s adopted son to save their lives from the usually brutal Roman justice. Octavian was swayed and agreed to banish them both. Antony fought to have them exiled together, hoping they could find some happiness, but Octavian sent Lucius to Spain where he died from an unknown illness and Fulvia to the Greek city of Sicyon where, it was said, she perished from a broken heart. Antony had wanted peace so badly that he had been disloyal to his wife and brother and ended up in a war with Octavian nonetheless.

  In Egypt, for a time, he found a happiness that had eluded him all his life. The stress from being co-ruler of Rome with Octavian and his weariness with civic duties caused him to seek adventure. So he devised a plan to meet with the richest woman in the world, the Queen of Egypt, and hear her lovely voice again and ask for financial aid for Rome’s conquests.

  Sharing his plans with Octavian, he learned of the young ruler’s hatred of Caesar’s young lover. He told Antony, “We must allow no woman to make herself the equal of a man.” Her life, and that of Caesar’s child were in danger so Antony did his best to stay on Octavian’s good side and allow Egypt to live in peace, as he knew Caesar would have wanted.

  He convinced Octavian, who was bequeathed the title of Caesar’s adopted son in his will, to stay an ally of Egypt and leave it unconquered. After all, he told him, that was Caesar’s way. Their conquered lands were always left in the current leaders’ hands if they capitulated to Rome’s demands. For the most part, they always did.

  Cleopatra would not refuse a request for money if she desired to rule Egypt. He sent word for her to meet on his territory, in Tarsus, the capital of the Roman province of Cilicia. What a reunion it was, how eager she was to please him, so unlike her current greetings.

  She made a grand entrance on a marvelous barge through the sea gate of the Cydnus river. Citizens left the marketplace to point in wonderment as the purple sails of her gold-plated vessel wafted in the wind of the port. Oars of silver glistened in the rays of the sun, and lute music drifted from the deck.

  He brought her a gift, purchased from a mystic at the public marketplace. The least he could do, he thought, since he was requesting a portion of Egypt’s wealth for Rome’s military. He’d gone to the marketplace searching for gifts to bring back to Rome for his children and wasn’t looking for anything special for Cleopatra, merely a trinket to relay a greeting. He thanked his lucky fortune for the encounter with the sage in the bazaar.

  The old seer had been telling a woman’s fortune, the entrails from a slaughtered lamb strewn on the cobblestones as he sought her future in the blood. “You and your husband will be blessed with four c
hildren and good fortune,” he said, holding and peering into the entrails of the unfortunate animal. Looking up from the intestines, he gave Antony a greeting.

  “Mighty ruler, you seek a gift for a goddess. I have the perfect token to give the ruler of Egypt,” he said, bowing towards Antony, his white scraggly beard reaching down a purple robe. He stood up, wiping his bloody hands on a rag, and began searching behind the market stall, announcing, “I am the oracle Mopsus, people from many lands seek me out for my predictions.”

  Antony tried to wave him off. “No, no, I’m not interested in any fortune-telling,” he said, gesturing with his arm. Of course the seer would recognize him and know he would bring a gift to the queen. So did scores of the other merchants plying their wares in the marketplace, trying to make money from Rome’s co-ruler.

  “Good sir, this is not a prediction, it is a treasure for a queen,” he said, as he stopped rummaging and held in his outstretched hand an amulet that shimmered in the fading rays of the sun.

  Antony closely examined the winged scarab pendant. Clearly, the charm was made by talented artisans, of pure solid gold, with inlaid turquoise for outstretched wings and large emeralds for eyes. The wings held a magnificent star ruby, a sacred stone that symbolized the sun god. It was intricately carved with ancient symbols Antony had never seen before. “The exquisite gold chain comes with it,” the oracle said, sensing a sale.

  Antony pulled his money pouch and began pouring coins on the wooden table that marked the seer’s stall. He had half-emptied it but Mopsus keep nodding his head for more. Antony decided to take his coins back and find a less expensive gift for Cleopatra.

  “Don’t leave…the amulet must go with you…it has been foretold. It’s a relic of an ancient time, an icon of creation, a gift from the gods. It must go to the noble woman who will save the world.”

  Antony just nodded his head. Time was short and he needed to be at the port to greet Cleopatra. He emptied his pouch on the table, took the amulet, and hoped she would be pleased.