No armor can protect the holes in my chest
I hold your precious jewel tight to my breastplate
Praying for the healing properties of its energy
To make me whole again
To make you whole again
Scribing these words in my leather-bound journal, I mourned deeply for all that I could not control, all that I could not make right. I mourned the death of moments that would never exist.
Another year had not passed when word arrived again, this time bearing news of Julia’s husband, who was taken by a fever. Requesting leave from my unit, I began a six-week journey back to Rome, filled with plots and fantasies of how we two could finally be together.
I had risen through the ranks of her father’s army. My hope was that as a decorated officer, and a member of Roman society, that the blight between our families would finally be obliterated and I could be free to fulfill the berth once promised to my older brother, as that of Julia’s husband.
But my arrival in Rome was to hold many surprises.
Riding into town, although my heart ached to find Julia, I knew that as an honorable man and soldier, I needed to first gain an audience with her father. So, I headed straightaway to Palatine Hill, taking a moment to sit back in my saddle and gather my thoughts before entering the great colonnaded entrance to his home.
As grand as it was, he lived more modestly than men who were of a lesser stature, shunning the times’ ostentation. As I walked the fresco-lined portico toward his residence, I could not help but note the simple beauty in rich crimson and gold paintings that lined the verandah and how starkly they contrasted to the barrenness of the field tents I called home.
His house servants had known me from early childhood and allowed me entrance and permission to proceed unattended through to his residence. As I approached my destination, I continued my inner dialogue of the case I planned on presenting to him for Julia’s hand. So deep in my own thoughts was I involved, that initially I did not hear the laughter and familiar voices emanating from his chamber ahead. Reaching the entranceway, I was shocked into stillness, surprised to find Agrippa, my commanding officer, sharing good cheer with her father. They were both startled by my appearance.
“Antonius.” Agrippa was clearly surprised.
“Gaius, you are in Rome,” her father announced, clapping me on the back.
“This young man has quickly risen through the ranks in my regime,” Agrippa boasted. “There is a familial talent for warring that he possesses.”
“Perhaps I should watch him more closely.” Her father squinted at me and both men laughed.
“Gaius, now that you are back in Rome, you must join us for the festivities.”
Looking to Agrippa, I am not sure to what he referred. There was no holiday taking place.
“I don’t think the young man has heard the news yet.”
“You have arrived just in time, young Gaius, to attend my nuptials to the beautiful Julia. We are to be married in two days’ time.”
Certain was I that the front of my toga was stained the same crimson as her father’s walls because I felt my heart burst. I heard the popping sound ricochet through my eardrums and reverberate throughout my brain like a hollow scream.
This time her father was giving her to a man so powerful that it was his only way to ensure he maintained power as it could be passed to Julia’s male heirs. Agrippa, although of no noble blood, truly made sense. My commanding officer was a man whom I admired greatly, and had played a key role in my military success and advancement. Agrippa, a man twenty-five years my senior would soon lie with Julia, filling her with his seed.
“Congratulations, sir. That is wonderful news,” I lied.
“You will join us,” her father informed me. “I will have a place set for you at my table. You have been like family to Julia her whole life.”
Nodding my assent, “I’d be honored.” I died a little with my lie. Like family? I am her heart. I am her only true family.
“Are you here for long?” her father asked.
“Just a brief visit.”
I already felt as if I’d overstayed my time in Rome, a time that now included the death of my dream before even sharing it with Julia. Something I could now never do. Agrippa was a good man and I tried to find solace in knowing he would treat her well and protect her.
Leaving the men behind, I made haste to her villa, hoping for what may be our last conversation. Met at the entrance by her servant, Seneca, the older man’s greeting took me by surprise. “Let me take you to her. Your presence will set her heart free.”
Entering her receiving room, although Julia’s back was to me, I could tell by the straightening of her spine that she felt my energy. Without even turning around to see who had arrived, she dismissed her chambermaid immediately, demanding the door be closed. The younger woman, a stranger to me, began to protest, and Seneca dispatched her immediately.
We stood on opposite corners of the lavish room, silently observing one another as if we were taking in a vision to hold in our mind’s eye forever. Opening my arms, she crossed to me, my tiny titian-haired beauty, who was no longer the girl I left, but very much a woman. I momentarily grieved for that innocent child, until she reached my arms, and the woman I held immediately pulled from my heart the pain I did not even know had latched onto it so deeply. For a moment, the burden was removed as I existed only in the here and now, entranced by the lavender scent of her hair and the way her body molded perfectly with mine, as I felt the race of her heart through the thin silk of her stola. Only one word came to mind. Complete.
Pulling her face away from my chest, she peered up and again I was lost as I searched her eyes.
“I came to you as fast as I could.” My words and actions felt inadequate. “But I fear it was not fast enough,” I paused. “I have just come from your father’s.”
“You went to him first?”
“My intent was to convince him to let us marry. But when I arrived, he was not alone. The general was present and I was informed that you were to be married.”
With a forlorn smile, she whispered, “But you came for me.”
“Yes, I did. Immediately, and without hesitation.”
Nodding, “He will take good care of me, Gaius. Please, rest your mind at ease.”
“My mind will be at ease, Julia. He is a strong, fair, and just man. But my heart will never bear that same solace. He will grow older with you, fill you with children, protect you. He will take my place in what I know, with all my being, is rightfully mine. My head and my heart are at odds, but I need to accept this marriage and all the safety it brings to you. For that, I am grateful.”
Nodding again, but remaining silent, Julia appeared to be deep in thought. “He was beautiful,” she began and looked up into my eyes. “He had the dimple you have in your chin and his little eyebrows were a pale copper.”
My son. Our child. She confirmed what I had known instinctively. The creation from our one and only union. Taking her face in my hands, I rested my forehead to hers as hot tears streamed from her eyes.
“He was beautiful, Gaius,” she repeated and my hold on her body tightened. How can I lose her again? I feel the pain of losing a son whose face I would never know and the burden of letting her go again is much too much to bear as I sank to my knees taking her with me in my arms.
I don’t know how long we stayed that way, quiet and tangled, but the sun’s stream on the floor had moved partially across the room. When Julia finally looked up at me, she was smiling and there was happiness in her eyes. “You came for me.”
“Always, my love,” I assured.
“That’s all that matters. You came for me.”
We fell back into an easy silence, wrapped up in one another’s arms, still in the middle of the floor. Absentmindedly allowing a lock of Julia’s hair to run through my fingers as dusk began to claim the sky with a soft palette of colors, I broke the silence.
“Your father asked me t
o join him at his table for your wedding.”
“Will you be his guest?”
Shaking my head, “No. It’s best if I ride out of town. There is solace in knowing you are safe and will be well looked after, but it is too much to ask me to watch you given away to another man.”
“I understand, Gaius. And I need you to know that I want you to be happy and I will accept your decisions in finding that happiness.”
She was letting me go.
Fate has not been kind to us.
Riding out of Rome that night, alone, it was almost impossible to fathom that I had lost so much in less than a day’s time. Which part of the loss cut the deepest, was difficult to discern, but I had the distinct feeling that it was the death of a dream that would have the most lasting and devastating impact.
••••••
The wind off the bay whips the sand around us as I hold her close. Her body is still full and soft from the birth of her last child, this son born after his father’s death. A child Agrippa will never know, just as I never knew the son Julia bore me so many years before.
Holding her in my arms plays tricks with time. It feels like yesterday.
“Have you seen my father,” she asks.
Shaking my head, “No, this time I came straight to you.” The memory of last time still bitter.
“He has plans,” she advises.
And I see fear in her eyes.
“His wife is plotting for power and he is listening to her, Gaius.”
I know her father’s wife well, and she has always been threatened by Julia’s relationship with her father. “What is she plotting?”
“Arranging for me to marry her son, so that my father’s power will transfer to him.”
“He’s married.” I refer to Julia’s stepbrother.
“Yes, they are pushing him to divorce, so that he may marry me. I don’t trust him, Gaius. I don’t trust that he will not kill me. Kill my sons.” With her latest birth, Julia has three sons, providing a powerful line for succession of family power.
Julia’s fear is not unfounded. Her stepbrother is an ill-tempered and abusive lout who has always treated her poorly. With her marriage to Agrippa, I knew she was with a good man who would treat her kindly. But her stepbrother would cause reason to fear for Julia’s life. My arrival was not a moment too soon.
Convincing her father a marriage to me would be advantageous was going to be difficult, if not impossible, but I could not let this man marry into a position where he would have control over Julia’s life. The ending chapters of that story were clearly written and the final outcome would not be happy. One did not need to be a seer to foretell that future.
“Together we will convince your father to let us marry. I would gladly abdicate rule to your sons, to protect power within the lineage.”
“But his wife, she is pushing her own bloodlines and my father is listening.”
“We will have to convince him.” I walk with Julia along the beach back toward a stone-stepped path up the cliffs.
The villa is quiet when we enter and I have the distinct feeling Seneca has cleared everyone out so that Julia and I may reacquaint properly.
“I feel self-conscious around you,” she admits. “I’m not that young girl of the last time we came together and I’ve just had another child.”
Sitting her on the edge of her bed, I stand before her. “You are more beautiful than I’d remembered. The wild child I once knew has blossomed into a magnificent woman. One who I cannot wait another moment to plunder.”
“With my father’s plans to marry me to my stepbrother he will view this as adultery,” she warned.
“Then I am an adulterer.”
Pushing her back down onto the bed, I do not even bother to remove her stola. Pushing the fabric up, the first time I take her, I am rough, taking both what I need and want. I have waited for her to be mine again and I spend the night marking her as if she were my property. By the morning’s first light, we are spent, yet still not sated.
“No man has ever claimed me so completely.” Her head rests on my chest, her hand still wrapped around me, stroking me to hardness again. “I will now always crave what you have done to me.” And then in a whisper, “Like an animal.” Together, we laugh.
Our passion is carnal, we are one another’s true match, challenging, taunting, tormenting, and pushing one another to heights so precarious that as we topple together, the pulsating crash is staggering. I have made sure no one will ever be able to satisfy her again. Driving her up and down on me, time after time, I have reached depths in all places she has to offer, and taken what is mine, and always has been. This woman is more entrenched in my soul than my most steadfast of allegiances, bound by blood spilled between our families and a firstborn who should have been the heir to Rome’s greatness and a testament to devotion that goes above and beyond love.
••••••
Waiting in his chambers for her father’s arrival, I am not altogether surprised by a visit from his wife.
Shooing her handmaiden from the room, she sits down next to me, smiling. I had never noticed the sharpness of her canine teeth, giving her an almost feral appearance and robbing her of being a great beauty.
“Your return is a surprise.”
“Is it?”
“Very much so.” She regards me. “You’ve inherited your father’s looks. I always respected him.” She laughed, “Not that I could make that known.” Her hand now rests in my lap, her fingertips gently stroking my thigh through the material of my toga. Wasting no time, she continues, “With your military accomplishments and your fine stature, you are certain to quickly climb the ranks right here in Rome, Gaius. Is that your plan? Remain in Rome as you rise to prominence?”
“You seem to have spent some time pondering the course of my life.” I do not trust this woman. Without her father protecting her, this harpy will have Julia either exiled or executed.
“You’re not really here for Julia, are you?” Digging her nails into my thigh, she bares her pointy incisors. “You’re here for my husband. You’re here to rule Rome.”
Laughing, I remove her hand from my leg, “You need to spend more time out in the provinces,” I advise. “There’s too much intrigue in this city. It makes everyone paranoid. Go, get some fresh air.”
“You will never get what you want,” she threatens.
“What I want is to take Julia from here. Leave you Rome.”
“You are an Anthony by birth. Your ambitions run too deep. That girl is merely a pawn used to sway the prevailing winds of power.”
I’m sick listening to her. Her influence over Julia’s father will destroy us all.
“My son will rule Rome,” she hisses in a harsh whisper only I can hear. “Even if he has to marry that wretched girl.”
Staring into the vacuous hollows of her Mediterranean-colored eyes, it is abundantly clear that our only move in this horrid game of chess is to take out the king, for we await certain death if we do not. If we make this bold attempt and do not succeed, a worse fate will be certain to fall upon us.
••••••
The nursemaid takes the baby from Julia’s arms as I stalk around her chamber. Our fate appears bleak, with few good options to remain together. I would leave Julia’s side and promise to not return, never hold her again, if I knew she would not fall to the hands of abuse. But we both know, if her stepmother gets her way, she will be married to her stepbrother, and her descent into Hell will be rapid.
Dismissing the woman from the room, Julia sits on the edge of the bed. “Gaius, come to me.”
Sitting next to her, I reach for a lock of her titian hair, letting the silken strands slide slowly through my fingers.
“We have no choice,” she whispers. “We must kill my father.”
I can clearly see her pain as she voices our only alternative. I remain silent.
“Rule will pass to my sons and with my father gone, I will no longer be under patriarchal co
ntrol. We’ll be free to marry. With your connections, you can raise an army against my stepbrother. You will handily defeat him.”
Reaching forward, I run my fingertips down her cheek. I know she’s right, but say, “Maybe your father will protect you.”
Sadly, she shakes her head, “If he wanted to protect me, he wouldn’t be handing me over to that psychotic beast because his power-hungry wife wants to rule Rome. He has chosen that woman over his blood, and my fate, if I am to marry my stepbrother,” she paused and looked up at the ceiling, as tears sealing our fate coursed down her cheeks. “If married to him, death will be something I wish for every minute of every day because he will make my life a living hell, and sadistically enjoy every second of his torture.”
Having known her stepbrother my entire life and well aware of his feelings for Julia, I knew she wasn’t exaggerating. “How shall we do this?” I can’t believe I’m voicing the words.
“Poison.”
“Who will administer?”
“I will,” Julia understands her obligation and that it has come to the point of her survival or his.
Taking her in my arms, “We could take the children and leave.”
“Is that what you want?” She knows that is not what I want. I am a soldier. I fight and I win. “I will do this with a heavy heart.”
That night we lie together, our lovemaking slow and sweet, unlike our usual carnal fervor, as if making a memory that would need to carry us for millennia. Sadness permeated every movement that night in our bed. Each touch was marred by the pain of loss, the realization that we were never fated to love freely and without pain. Our lives would always be secondary, overshadowed by the needs of Rome, where we remained but bit players as the tragedy unfolded.
Love on the Edge of Time Page 11
