Blood Crusade

by Billita Jacobsen

  The throngs of citizens cheering Cleopatra’s arrival parted as Antony and his men approached the royal barge. The sun was setting, a gentle wind was blowing into the harbor, and the queen’s handmaidens welcomed them on board. Rose petals a foot deep carpeted the deck, creating a delightful scent that filled the soldiers’ nostrils.

  His eyes searched for her, past a laden banquet table set with gold plates. He wondered why she did not welcome him. “What game is she up to?” he wondered out loud. The queen’s handmaidens, Iras and Charmion, both lovely and enticing dressed in silk, escorted his men to the table.

  “Is that Baccus, come to meet with Venus to discuss the fate of the world?” Her unforgettable, melodious voice drifted from behind a canopy, festooned with silk curtains. “Come, dine with me, Baccus,” she said from behind the purple silk that was hiding her.

  He parted the curtain with hesitation. Venus stood before him, two boys on each side fanning her as she smiled. A solid collar of beaten gold was around her neck, ending where her breasts began, covered only by a whisper of white silk that curved and clung to her body. Even her toes were captivating, colored with henna and adorned by ruby red sandals.

  Antony recognized now the gift that had captivated Caesar. This woman could play any part and be whatever one desired. Her gift was fantasy and Antony was instantly captivated.

  Surprising himself, he knelt before her. “I bring you a gift, my goddess,” he said, holding up the amulet.

  Removing her heavy gold collar, she motioned for him to affix his offering around her neck. “I will treasure this,” she said, looking at him with a soft, steady gaze.

  “I also bestow upon you this coast and all that you can see, to beyond the forests and farmlands,” he said, surprising her as well as himself, again.

  The amulet seemed such a small trinket for one so regal. While Octavian might not be pleased at his generosity, the lands were his to give and he suddenly found himself in a very benevolent mood.

  They dined together, Venus and Bacchus, on a meal that began with fava bean soup. They feasted on wild boar, quail, cheese, grapes, figs, and round honey cakes. As befitting Bacchus, the god of wine, they consumed great quantities while he gave her details of the events in Rome after she fled with little Caesar.

  “Octavian is building a temple for Caesar, on the grounds where his body was cremated…”

  “I hear that you put your Greek studies in eloquence to good use and gave a rousing speech to put down the conspirators,” she said, looking at him adoringly.

  “The people needed little stirring to rise up--they truly loved Caesar,” he said, picking up a piece of honey cake and putting it to her lips. She used her tongue to snare the underside, rolling her neck to the side, gently chewing while looking deep into his eyes.

  “The vampires were driven from Rome, to the delight of the citizens. Brutus was pursued and committed suicide in defeat and so did his brother-in-law Cassius. All of those who betrayed Caesar are regretting it from the grave,” he said, picking up a grape to put into her willing mouth.

  They talked for hours of dealings in Rome, of Caesar’s death and of Caesar’s son who remained in Egypt. The moon now cast an eerie glow on the barge and Antony noticed a ghostly figure rising up from the mist on the river, over the curved bow.

  It hovered near them, silently, before Cleopatra turned to see what Antony was gaping at in wide-eyed wonder. The figure floated near and the light of the moon and the many candles on the barge finally allowed Antony to detect that it was Claudius. His customary black toga had served him well as camouflage.

  “Greetings Antony, my fellow citizen. I see that you dine with Caesar’s whore,” he spat out at the stunned couple. “I came to thank you both for the great service you provided for the vampire lords.”

  “Service? I provide no service to your kind,” sputtered the queen.

  “Oh, but you have. Both of you. Antony has hunted us down and you have banished us. For that, we survivors want to reward you,” Claudius said, as he swooped down and grabbed the child who had been fanning them.

  The boy screamed, causing the soldiers on board to come running. They paused in horror, swords drawn, at the scene before them. Claudius held the boy tightly around the chest, floating over the water, ten feet from the barge, fifteen feet in the air, out of reach.

  His fangs ripped into the lad’s throat and he drank the flowing blood leisurely as the child’s jerking motions slowly stopped and he finally became limp. Claudius then threw the body into the river. “That could have been either one of you, but what kind of compensation would that be for two humans who taught us such a valuable lesson?”

  Cleopatra’s handmaidens were weeping. Cleopatra, Antony, and his soldiers were furious. “I should have had you all killed!” Cleopatra shouted.

  “Come, fight like a man,” Antony yelled, swinging his sword, moving to the edge of the barge.

  “He’s not a man, he’s a monster,” said Cleopatra, “he doesn’t deserve battle, he warrants extermination.”

  Claudius merely laughed. He pointed to all who were on the deck. “You shall be the last humans to see a vampire attack and live to tell about it. We have learned a lesson from them about how to kill your kind,” he pointed at Cleopatra and Antony, “we will do it in the shadows, out of view, until the public no longer senses danger. Until humans only whisper about ancient myths and the legend--the fantasy--of the vampire.”

  Hovering back and forth around the barge, he engaged in a game of tag, kicking a soldier in the head and moving on to swipe at a handmaiden. Chaos ensued on board the boat as soldiers swung their swords and Cleopatra clutched the remaining child, trying to shelter him from the vampire’s maneuvers.

  Iras and Charmion sprang into action, grabbing silver spears and lunging at Claudius. He kicked Iras in the head, knocking her down. Charmion, her white silk garment loosened in the struggle, exposing her breasts, violently threw her spear at the vampire, missing him. He delivered a severe kick to her head, rendering her unconscious.

  Antony quickly commanded his soldiers, “Create a formation around the queen!” as he hurried to get to her side.

  “We will rule mankind,” Claudius shouted, “from behind the scene, as unknown masters of your species!” He made a dive towards Cleopatra and the child. She pushed the boy to the side, picking up the solid gold pectoral she had removed from her neck earlier, swinging it like a sword.

  She made a direct hit to the vampire’s face, creating a deep gash, but he spun around and delivered a kick to her chest, knocking her off balance, causing her to fall off the side of the barge into the dark water below. Claudius gleefully dived toward her, like an eagle targeting a fish in the river.

  Without hesitation, Antony dropped his sword and jumped over the side of the boat in the direction he had seen her fall. He found her clinging to a silver oar, protected as she embraced it, as Claudius wouldn’t dare go near the precious metal that would burn his vampire skin. “I so wanted to dine on queen tonight,” the vampire said in dismay, hovering above.

  Antony swam to her side. “Silver oars…good idea,” he said, putting one arm around her and one around the silver that offered them shelter from the vampire’s fangs.

  He held her close. She pressed her shivering body next to his. “You came for me,” she whispered softly, “my hero,” while giving him a tender kiss, and closing her eyes, now covered in black and dripping from her wet kohl make-up.

  “I’m still here,” Claudius grumbled. “Antony! My offer to you still stands. Join us and rule mankind.”

  “Fuck you, Claudius. Take off before my men run a silver stake through your black heart,” Antony replied, pointing in the direction of the assembly of men that were fast approaching them in small boats.

  “This isn’t over! I’ll see you dead, mark my words, queen bitch,” he spat out at Cleopatra before flying away.

  The soldiers reached for Cleopatra but she clung to Antony, refusing to release h
im. “Get the child’s body first,” she commanded. And so they waited in the cold, dark waters, her eyes looking into his with the promise of a pleasuring reward to come.

  She continued to hold his gaze, even back on board the barge. Drenched from the river, her silk attire no longer even faintly obscured her body. Antony’s gaze left her eyes as he admired her nakedness.

  Iras and Charmion, now recovered from their encounter with Clauius, hurried to attend to her, bringing fresh clothes. Antony’s soldiers posted guard. “Leave us,” she ordered them all. Antony nodded to his men in silent agreement.

  Antony became Cleopatra’s ardent lover that night, consumed by a passion born in a moment facing death. He enjoyed hearing her melodious voice cry out his name and she enjoyed the practice of diverse positions. They became inseparable, traveling up and down the Cydnus River aboard the mighty Egyptian barge, making love night after night.

  Leaving the vessel occasionally, they went to the theatre, were welcomed as honored guests at the grandest palaces in Tarsus, visited the school of philosophy and the city library, and enjoyed the finest feasts. Antony’s mind was filled with Cleopatra--he never left her side and unlike the wine and beer he consumed, he could never get enough of her.

  She, on the other hand, plotted and planned for a future war against the vampires. “It is my duty to rid the world of them,” she announced as she gathered an army of vampire hunters. Treasures were set aside for the hunters to pursue and kill all vampires, should something evil befall her and end her crusade.

  Antony’s happiness was shattered when Octavian ordered him to return to Rome. Fearing a war that would displace Cleopatra as Egypt’s pharaoh, he agreed to return, much to the rage of the queen.

  “You would dare to leave me when I’m pregnant with your child?” she asked, without understanding.

  No amount of explanation could end her concern that he would not return to her. “If you want to rule Egypt and exterminate the vampires, I must keep peace with Octavian, my love,” he said, leaving her to smolder and fully intending to come back in spite of his irritation with her constant harping about ridding the world of vampires.

  He regretted his decision to leave the moment he returned to Rome. Octavian’s demands of him were even worse than the queen’s had been. At least he had the pleasure of Cleopatra’s lovemaking at night in Egypt. Back in Rome, he found pleasure in nothing but wine.

  Intending to cement their co-rulership, Octavian arranged for Antony to marry his sister, Octavia. She was a woman so sweet and good that she had taken in and cared for his and Fulvia’s children. She adored him, and she kept the peace and was, thankfully, quite beautiful. So Antony agreed, on the condition that Rome was never to invade Egypt.

  Weeks after Cleopatra gave birth to twins, Antony and Octavia were wed. The rumor mill in Rome churned endlessly with gossip about the Egyptian ruler’s bastard children. He heard that she named their daughter Cleopatra Selene and their son Alexander. He found solace in Octavia’s kindness to him but a day never passed that he didn’t feel remorse for parting from his true love. On those rare occasions when he was sober, he realized that he had no choice but to leave her in order to save her and Cleopatra would never know the truth.

  He spent years brooding and drinking heavily, thinking of her when his mind was clear, so he didn’t allow it to be lucid very often, to Octavia’s lament. She’d given birth to a girl, Antonia, and was now pregnant with another child. Antony was prolific at making babies but an utterly indifferent father after they were born, his mother-in-law, Atia, enjoyed telling him. The children would have been horribly neglected if not for Octavia’s devotion to their happiness.

  Octavia reared his children by other women and their daughter on her own. She made excuses for him to everyone, devoted wife that she was. And still he dreamed only of Cleopatra.

  Recently feeling guilty about his treatment of Octavia and the children, he’d agreed to her requests for a visit to her brother. He loathed talking to Octavian but decided that he owed his wife some relief.

  Their welcoming banquet had been strained. Octavian seemed intent on Antony’s wine goblet being constantly filled. Antony was content to keep the slaves running back and forth with refills.

  The gathering was a true nightmare for Antony--worse than dining with vampires as it was a family gathering, full of in-laws. Atia, his mother-in-law, glowered at him when Octavia wasn’t looking. Octavian’s childhood friend and protector, now commander of his army, Marcus Agrippa, chatted with Calpurnia and often turned to join Atia in casting angry, dirty gazes his way.

  “I’m sorry to bring up matters of duty with my sister present, but there is something urgent we must discuss,” Octavian announced, waving for the slaves to bring more wine.

  “Yes, yes, what is it?” Antony slurred.

  Octavia had sat comfortably, enjoying their dinner and watching the children play with the puppy their uncle had given them. They ran screaming in delight around the spacious dining hall, scampering around huge marble pillars, the tiny animal chasing after them, nipping at their heels.

  “We have a problem with the current pharaoh in Egypt,” Octavian said, “she is building an army to fight the vampires. This so-called Order of the Pyramids is hunting down and killing any vampire they see.”

  “How is that a problem?” Antony asked, sitting up and noticing the look of concern in Octavia’s eyes. Usually quite innocent and childlike, her eyes often held the same soft look of kindness that Calpurnia possessed. Perhaps that’s where she learned to be benevolent, Antony thought, since her mother portrayed only malice.

  Everyone stopped eating as the co-rulers now had their strict attention, all eyes upon them--concerned, kind, and angry alike. “Brother, this is not the time, Octavia pleaded.

  “If not now, when? The problem is that Cleopatra trains assassins--my spies say they are spread throughout the empire and are very adept at what they do. Who will be murdered by her hunters when the vampires are wiped out? She must be stopped, now, before her power grows,” Octavian said in a firm voice, grabbing a piece of ostrich meat and beginning to eat again. Atia gave Antony a smirk and began dining on the baked boar.

  “I won’t have it!” Antony shouted, rising from the elegant couch, spilling his drink. “You are breaking our truce at your own peril!”

  “How dare you!” Atia bellowed, spitting out a piece of boar.

  “You fool,” Octavian said, his voice wavering and rising in tone, “do you really believe those children are yours? They are no more your progeny than the child she calls Caesarion was truly from Caesar. While you’ve been yearning for that whore, my popularity with the masses grows and the army follows me, not some drunken sot!”

  “How dare you speak to my husband that way,” Octavia yelled uncharacteristically. “The people still adore Antony, just as they loved Caesar!”

  Acrobats tumbled into the room, their lithe bodies jumping, one over the other, in front of the frescoed walls that portrayed Venus reclining on a giant clamshell, carried by an ocean wave. Tumblers followed soon after, enthralling the children who began clapping at the spectacle. Slaves carried in pans of perfumed water to massage the diners’ feet, as was the custom between courses.

  “You’re interrupting me!” Octavian shouted, his voice echoing his anger across the hall. “I’m surrounded by fools!” He pounded the table.

  Right on cue, the ceiling panels were pulled back and roses showered down on the guests. Pearls were mixed in with the flowers and Atia, looking up, was hit in the eye with a large, luminous, white gem from the Persian Gulf.

  Octavian began to laugh uncontrollably. “My gift from the heavens! This evening has not gone as planned.”

  Atia was not pleased that he took such delight in her minor pain. Rubbing her eye, she said grumpily, “That pearl is mine, I deserve it.” She covered her pearl-damaged eye with one hand, and crawled on the floor moving roses with her other hand while searching for her treasure.

>   Antony was also amused at Atia’s plight but he didn’t feel like laughing after Octavian’s threat to Cleopatra. In fact, he felt like causing some harm to his co-rulers eyes, as the pearl had done to Atia. He looked at Octavian, clenched his fists, and began moving towards him.

  Agrippa noticed his intent and moved closer to Antony, flexing his muscles, ever the watchdog. Octavian put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll discuss this later,” he said, leaving the room and bringing the banquet to a halt.

  Antony’s wife tried to comfort and calm him when they retired to bed but he fretted so much about Cleopatra’s fate that she finally gave up and fell asleep, exhausted. When he drifted off to sleep, only nightmares filled his thoughts, not the peaceful slumber Octavia was enjoying as she nestled her body next to his. Caesar’s ghost would give him no peace, the image of the death of his friend would not leave his mind.

  Rising from the bed, certain that he saw the form of Caesar in the shadows of the room, he walked down the corridors, seeking out some wine to help him sleep. The marble was cold on his bare feet, causing him to shiver. He passed through the great gallery and stopped to admire the plundered art from various parts of Rome’s conquered territories.

  Pausing in front of a sculpture of Caesar, placed next to a statue of the dead ruler’s patron goddess, Venus, Antony pondered that this likeness was the only work of art in the gallery that was commissioned by Rome. Almost everything the empire possessed had been pillaged from other countries. Antony lamented that Rome’s ruler was now prepared to steal Egypt away from the queen.

  Heading towards the banquet hall, where he would surely find some wine, he thought it strange that there were no guards or slaves present in the halls. Quarreling voices were coming from the dining hall, he could see the faint glow of candlelight guiding his way towards them.

  “We must wait to attack, Antony still has men loyal to him and I don’t want another civil war,” Octavian voiced loudly, accompanied by an odd slurping sound.