Antony and Cleopatra. Colleen McCullough

mother’s brother.’

      ‘Octavianus and I both proscribed Lucius!’ Antony snapped, goaded. ‘However, we did not execute him! We needed his money, that simple. My mother is penniless, she stands in no danger.’

      ‘Then you tell her that!’ said Libo with a snarl; it was he, after all, who had had to suffer Julia Antonia on a fairly long sea voyage.

      Had either man thought to look her way – he did not – he might have seen that the drowned blue eyes held a certain cunning and that the profusely ornamented ears were picking up every word uttered. Monumentally silly Julia Antonia might be, but she had a healthy regard for her own wellbeing and was convinced that she would be much better off with her senior son than stranded in Rome without an income.

      By this time the steward and several female servants had arrived, their faces displaying some trepidation. Unmoved by this evidence of servile fear that they were about to be burdened with a problem, Antony thankfully passed his mother over to them, all the while assuring her that he wasn’t going to send her to Rome. Finally the deed was done and peace descended on the study; Antony sat back in his chair with a sigh of relief.

      ‘Wine! I need wine!’ he cried, suddenly erupting out of the chair. ‘Red or white, Libo?’

      ‘A good strong red, I thank you. No water. I’ve seen enough water in the last three nundinae to last me half a lifetime.’

      Antony grinned. ‘I fully understand. Chaperoning my mama is no picnic.’ He poured a large goblet almost to its brim. ‘Here, this should numb the pain – Chian, ten years old.’

      Silence reigned for some time as the two bibbers buried their snouts in their goblets with appropriate sounds of content.

      ‘So what brings you to Athens, Libo?’ Antony asked, breaking the silence. ‘And don’t say my mother.’

      ‘You’re right. Your mother was convenient.’

      ‘Not for me,’ Antony growled.

      ‘I’d love to know how you can do that,’ Libo said brightly. ‘Your speaking voice is light and high, but in a trice you can turn it into a deep-throated growl or roar.’

      ‘Or bellow. You forgot the bellow. And don’t ask me how. I don’t know. It just happens. If you want to hear me bellow, keep on evading the subject, by all means.’

      ‘Er – no, that won’t be necessary. Though if I may continue about your mother for a moment longer, I suggest that you give her plenty of money and the run of the best shops in Athens. Do that, and you’ll never see or hear her.’ Libo smiled down at the bubbles beading the rim of his wine. ‘Once she learned that your brother Lucius was pardoned and sent to Further Spain with a proconsular imperium, she was easier to deal with.’

      ‘Why are you here?’ Antony said again.

      ‘Sextus Pompeius thought it a good idea for me to see you.’

      ‘Really? With a view to what end?’

      ‘Forming an alliance against Octavianus. The two of you united would crush Octavianus to pulp.’

      The small full mouth pursed; Antony looked sideways. ‘An alliance against Octavianus … Pray tell me, Libo, why I, one of the three men appointed by the Senate and People of Rome to reconstitute the Republic, should form an alliance with a man who is no better than a pirate?’

      Libo winced. ‘Sextus Pompeius is the governor of Sicilia in full accordance with the mos maiorum! He does not regard the Triumvirate as legal or proper, and he deplores the proscription edict that falsely outlawed him, not to mention stripped him of his property and inheritance! His activities on the high seas are purely to convince the Senate and People of Rome that he has been unjustly condemned. Lift the sentence of hostis, lift all the bans, embargoes and interdictions, and Sextus Pompeius will cease to be – er – a pirate.’

      ‘And he thinks I’ll move in the House that his status as a public enemy and all the bans, embargoes and interdictions be lifted if he aids me in ridding Rome of Octavianus?’

      ‘Quite so, yes.’

      ‘I take it he’s proposing outright war, tomorrow if possible?’

      ‘Come, come, Marcus Antonius, all the world can see that you and Octavianus must eventually come to blows! Since between you – I discount Lepidus – you have imperium maius over nine-tenths of the Roman world and you control its legions as well as its incomes, what else can happen when you collide than full-scale war? For over fifty years the history of the Roman Republic has been one civil war after another – do you honestly believe that Philippi was the end of the final civil war?’ Libo kept his tone gentle, his face serene. ‘Sextus Pompeius is tired of outlawry. He wants what is due to him – restoration of his citizenship, permission to inherit his father Magnus’s property, the restitution of said property, the consulship, and a proconsular imperium in Sicilia in perpetuity.’ Libo shrugged. ‘There is more, but that will do to go on with, I think.’

      ‘And in return for all this?’

      ‘He will control and sweep the seas as your ally. Include a pardon for Murcus and you will have his fleets too. Ahenobarbus says he’s independent, though as big a … pirate. Sextus Pompeius will also guarantee you free grain for your legions.’

      ‘He’s holding me to ransom.’

      ‘Is that a yea or a nay?’

      ‘I will not treat with pirates,’ Antony said in his usual light voice. ‘However, you can tell your master that if he and I should meet upon the water, I expect him to let me go wherever it is I’m going. If he does that, we shall see.’

      ‘More yea than nay.’

      ‘More nothing than anything – for the time being. I do not need Sextus Pompeius to squash Octavianus, Libo. If Sextus thinks I do, he’s mistaken.’

      ‘If you should decide to ship your troops across the Adriatic from Macedonia to Italia, Antonius, you won’t welcome fleets in the plural preventing you.’

      ‘The Adriatic is Ahenobarbus’s patch, and he’ll not hamper me. I am unimpressed.’

      ‘So Sextus Pompeius cannot call himself your ally? You will not undertake to speak for him in the House?’

      ‘Absolutely not, Libo. The most I’ll agree to do is not to hunt him down. If I did hunt him down, he’d be the one crushed to pulp. Tell him he can keep his free grain, but that I expect him to sell me grain for my legions at the usual wholesale price of five sesterces the modius, not a bronze farthing more.’

      ‘You drive a hard bargain.’

      ‘I’m in a position to do so. Sextus Pompeius is not.’

      And how much of this obduracy, wondered Libo, is because he now has his mother around his neck? I told Sextus it was not a good idea, but he wouldn’t listen.

      Quintus Dellius entered the room, arm in arm with yet another sycophant, Sentius Saturninus.

      ‘Look who’s just arrived from Agrigentum with Libo!’ Dellius cried delightedly. ‘Antonius, have you any of that Chian red?’

      ‘Pah!’ spat Antony. ‘Where’s Plancus?’

      ‘Here, Antonius!’ said Plancus, going to embrace Libo and Sentius Saturninus. ‘Isn’t this nice?’

      Very nice, thought Antony sourly. Four servings of syrup.

      Moving his army to the Adriatic coast of Macedonia hadn’t begun as anything more than an exercise designed to frighten Octavian; having abandoned all thought of contending with the Parthians until his income improved, Antony had at first wanted to leave his legions in Ephesus, but his visit to Ephesus had changed his mind. Caninius was too weak to control so many senior legates unless cousin Antony was nearby. Besides, the idea of frightening Octavian was too delicious to resist.