Marcus stepped ashore in Tarsus, where Mark Antony had met Cleopatra and begun his spiral toward doom. He made his way to the castrum and shook hands with its commander.
"I doubt you've heard about the earthquake in Antioch," the man said. "You have three letters from Prefect Lucius."
Marcus sat down in the Commander's office and broke open the seals, reading of the deaths of his father and wife, fires breaking out in Antioch, widespread destruction in several towns. Lucius listed the servants killed, headed by Sarah, the housekeeper. Marcus shuddered at the implications. He also received a letter from the City Prefect.
...Prefect Lucius is not up to this crisis and does not have the confidence of this City. I beg you to return...
Fortuna joined in.
...Father, Marius will not tell you this, but I can. You must come home. Uncle Lucius is trying but everyone is already upset for some reason. Victory is working with some of your contacts here, but that will only go so far. We need you. I beg you come home...
Mayors of two outlying towns had also written, complaining that Lucius was ignoring their requests for help, though it had only been a week since the quake.
"I need to talk to my family about this," Marcus said to the Commander. "I will likely need to return."
Once back at the ship, he took Gaius aside and broke the news.
"Now to tell my Marcus," Gaius said.
He called Bolt, Juba, Eleni, and Sejana into the room. General Marcus faced his nephew.
"There's no way to say this other than straight out," he said. "There's been an earthquake back home. Your grandfather and Aunt Tryphaena were killed."
Bolt gasped as the news sunk in.
"The dream was true," Eleni said.
Bolt's face drained color. Juba pushed a stool under him as Marcus pondered their options.
"You have to go back," Gaius said. "Lucius can work his way through this but he'll have everyone pissed off by the time he's done."
"Agreed," Marcus said. "Gaius, you'll go on to Rome and do the honors there. Bolt, you'll go with your father."
"Uncle, I-"
Marcus' eyes flashed a warning.
"Tribune, that's an order."
"General, I'd ask you to reconsider," Juba said. "I've had my misgivings about Tribune Antonius going to Rome for reasons we've discussed. I think, given this emergency, the Tribune's health scare, and his place in the hearts and minds of many in Antioch and the Orontes Valley, he would be better off returning home. As his commander, I'll convey his regrets in Rome."
When the meeting broke up, Bolt caught Juba's attention.
"Thank you," he said.
"Thank me if the only thing that happens to you is a crucifixion," Juba said.
Bolt packed a saddlebag of necessities, leaving the silver wreath in its case. He followed Marcus to the castrum, where both men mounted post horses. As they left town, Bolt kicked his horse to a gallop.
"Damn you!" Marcus shouted. "I won't eat your dust!"
It had been years since he had ridden post-haste. Now he was with a master of the art and doubted there would be any more fainting spells for awhile. He kicked his horse to the gallop and settled in for the ride.
YOU ARE READING
Domina Victrix
Historical FictionDescendants of Triumvir Mark Antony through his little-known first wife, young cousins, Victoria and Marcus, have always known they were heirs to a mixed-blessing heritage. Roman men were expected to brutally dominate their families and the world a...
