The Eagle Flies! A Julius Caesar Timeline.

Dirk

Banned
Ides of Martius, 710 Ab Urbe Condita

Marcus Antonius woke that morning thinking of Gaul. Why is that? He sat up, shaking his head. He was one who thought mostly of the present and otherwise of the future; the past was useless to him, except to dig up the face of some useful friend or hated enemy.

His eyes were bleary...but not from drink. That was it. He hadn't woken sober since those days in Gaul, where Caesar had forbidden any kind of alcohol to any officer under his command. And the events of last night came flooding back.

Marcus Antonius closed his eyes, a knot of worry growing in his stomach, so accustomed to being knotted from hangover. Casca, that rat, begging him to use his influence with Caesar to pull him out of the conspiracy. Sniveling, explaining that he and his brother had practically been forced to it by their birth and ancestry! Antonius, with no tolerance for beggars who didn't amuse him, personally kicked the man out of his home.

But then he'd lain awake all night. Hadn't they told him, after Caesar had been reappointed dictator four years ago, that they meant to kill him? Gaius Trebonius, Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus, Lucius Cornelius Cinna...Caesar's capable generals and friends, who happened to love libertas, or else their own pockets, more than their general. The General.

Every man serving under Caesar loved him. The competence, the ability, the vigor. Caesar would never ask a man to do something he wouldn't do himself, and he would never promote a friend over a more competent subordinate...which made him friends out of the most competent men who lived. Gaius Trebonius, the son of a simply equestrian who had practically been made by Caesar's insight; Brutus Albinus, the able scion of a noble family not too friendly to Caesar; Cinna, Caesar's own ex-brother-in-law who'd been ignored and marginalized as the son of "that Cinna" before being taken under the Great Man's wing.

Thinking of him, Marcus Antonius shivered, remembering the eyes. Pale grey irises that were almost white, surrounded by thin rings of black. Two shining silver denarii, prescient and omniscient. Blinding sun eclipsing dark moon. They took in all they saw and could be warm and accepting one moment, then cold and exclusive the next. That was Caesar, chameleon that he was.

Edepol, but what was he doing? His bedchamber, resplendent with gilt columns and vividly painted frescoes of scenes from the deeds of Hercules and the wars of Rome, was still grey and faceless in the pre-dawn light, but Marcus Antonius wasn't tired. He'd lain awake until just a few hours ago, surely, wondering what to do.

But now he knew. "ANICETUS!" he roared for his steward, immediately waking the entire house. "ANICETUS, GET YOUR LAZY GREEK FAG-ASS DOWN HERE!" He needed to hurry for dawn was coming. It was time to save Caesar.


Caesar woke that morning clear-eyed and wondering why he was in her bed. He sat up and one of Calpurnia's kittens stood up with a start by his left knee, stretching with a shiver and then standing there, staring at him. Caesar stared back at it a moment before uncoiling lithely, careful not to wake her, and walking through his sleeping house.

The indoors hallways were dim, lit at intervals by low oil lamps. Windows somewhere were open, and the brisk spring draft carried the smoke away down the hallway. Caesar followed it to his own spare bedroom. A bucket idled in one corner and a clean hard mattress faced it from the side opposite.

More extensive by far was his dressing room. The walls were full mirrors from floor to ceiling, and the closet held a wealth of tunics, togas, armors, and footwear. Gaius Julius Caesar held the titles of Pontifex Maximus, the high priest of Jupiter Latiaris in Alba Longa, the caretaker of the College of Augurs, and many more. Each role, and the priestly ones in particular, required its own style of dress and manner. So the mirror, for Caesar was the consummate actor.

He frowned at the light coming in through the room's solitary window. He went to bed late and woke early, taking three or four hours of rest per night in between the endless paperwork, letters, and micromanagement of Rome's political, military, and commercial empire. He could trust nobody to do the best job himself. Now it was just before dawn, which meant that he should have been awake for an hour now, dictating letters to a few of his secretaries or poring over dispatches from the East.

He'd gotten too much sleep, and that unsettled him. He decided on the consul's toga on this day of the year of his fifth consulship. They had started as whispers and mutters among the clients of his vanquished foes, and were ignored by most, for wasn't Caesar the golden hero of Rome, conqueror of Gaul and champion of the people, the populus? Then he'd become dictator, for he couldn't solve Rome's many problems while overcoming the legal hurdles of the Republic, and he, and the people with him, had realized that he couldn't fix things in one year, or three, or even five.

It had started small at first. Graffiti here, a shout at a speech there, but now Caesar knew that there were a good many men of the Third census class and above--prosperous bakers, craftsmen, butchers, contractors, and the like all the way up through the massive importer-exporters of the eques and the corrupt landowners of the Senate--who now doubted his good intentions. They thought he wanted to be King of Rome, the forbidden title, a curse almost as harsh as cunnus or mentula. Idiots. Who would want to lord it over a bunch of contrarian Romans as king when he could try to work behind the scenes?

So he chose the consul's toga, to highlight the legality and innocence of his iron grip on Rome. Gracious numina, hadn't he even dismissed his lictors as a show of goodwill? Caesar needed no protecting because Caesar was universally loved...or so he wanted it to seem.

Calpurnia tiptoed soundlessly just outside the room, hidden in shadow. Of course she'd been awake the whole time after they'd carried him in, reveling in his closeness. He was always away, always had been away. Scarce weeks after their marriage he'd gone off to Gaul...and been away for ten years. She had her cats, and her friends...but cats and friends did not compare in any way to Caesar. He was her God.

She stared at him now, the very image of a God on Earth at the height of his power and virility. A man-god in his prime. The growing light revealed corded back and arm muscles that bunched and contracted. The world famous Roman infantry calves bulged monstrously under hard thighs and above graceful ankles and feet. But still she saw the flaws, the cracks in the plaster. Where his legs had once been smooth and mighty, varicose veins grew angrily like the roots of some great deadly tree. The crown of thick, pale, golden hair which surmounted his head was now very thin at the front. Tendons and hard knobs of bone in the neck, shoulders, arms, and hips stretched the suntanned skin sallow. Caesar was an aging man.

Then his skin was covered by the toga and Calpurnia marveled at such agile movements. She doubted that any man of her own age, 31 to Caesar's own 56, could have put on a toga without assistance, but Caesar did it with only some minimal difficulty. "What brought me to your bed last night?" he said suddenly.

She gasped in surprise, and after a few moments answered. "They found you asleep at your desk, writing. Still writing." Tears came to her eyes, for it was such a telling question. What brought me to your bed last night? She knew that he was a busy man, and a--a drawing man. He drew supporters and friends like a bakery drew the hungry. They needed him, the confidence, the aura of invincibility, the feeling that you were the only person who mattered when Caesar looked at you; but he needed them more. But they didn't know that.

She liked to think that she was different, that he really loved her. She'd thought so more often in her youth, but now that year after year dragged by without a child, and month after month went by without him visiting her bedroom, that hope that she had tamed the wildfire that was Caesar diminished. He was fond of her, she knew that for sure, but as she was fond of her cats. He was her God, and his own God.

"Huh," he grunted in response to her explanation. He wasn't getting enough sleep, but he needed to do the work. So much work to do before the end. He wouldn't throw his hands up and give up, hoping for the best, as Sulla had done; nor would he die of stress, like Gaius Marius; and Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus's way, to be eclipsed by somebody greater, was the worst way to go. But there was no man alive greater than Caesar, and he would never give up. But he might well die of stress....

"Please, my love," his thoughts were interrupted by Calpurnia standing there, a deer staring at the hunter. "M-my love," she stuttered, shaking with bravery. "Stay home, stay here just for today. You need your sleep, rest."

Caesar chuckled, shaking his head. "It was a momentary lapse, Calpurnia. Don't stress about it," he said, stressing the word and chuckling again at some private joke.

"Dear husband," she shuffled forward in her slippers, clutching at his toga. "I had a terrible dream--"

He shoved her away with disgust. If anything drove him away it was emotional clinginess, physically disrupting his appearance, and womanly hysteria of dreams and the supernatural. "Go back to bed," he sad coldly, and was gone.


Halfway down the short walk along the Via Sacra Caesar began to grit his teeth in regret. His varicose veins were helped by the knee high boots of the high priest of Jupiter Latiaris in Alba Longa, but that had caused a fright because they were originally the boots of the Kings of Alba Longa, and those cunt tribunes Gaius Epidius and Lucius Caesetius, pretending to be on his side, had made a bigger deal about it than Clodius's crashing the Bona Dea festival all those years ago. The two had been stripped of their positions, but the damage was done. So Caesar gritted his teeth against the pain and stalked down the street in his ordinary red senators' boots.

The city was just waking up, and only the forms of beggars huddled against the early morning chill or vendors slowly putting up their confectionery stands could be seen dotted here or there all along the Forum. Everywhere he nodded, or shook a man's hand, or inquired after a family member or a job or a situation. It seemed that he knew everybody in the city, and to everybody he spoke to it seemed that he cared. He liked to think he did.

He had reached the Well of the Comitia and was about to skirt its edge when a voice called to him from behind. He whipped around, staring. The form of Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus, a man who existed only in varying shades of white, stood out against the gaudily painted shops that stood here. Caesar stood, waiting for the younger man to reach him, and clapped him on the back when he reached him, smiling kindly into the light grey eyes.

"A late start, Decimus? Not falling back into old habits, are you?"

For a moment Decimus Albinus fought to stop his breath from hitching in, and he won. How could they kill him? He was the General again, God of the battlefield. He was like a father to him, diverting the boundless energy of healthy youth from whoring and drinking into soldiering and politicking. Then Decimus Albinus's mind cleared, painted ruthless by a brush as white as his hair. For the Republic.

"Heh, not at all, Caesar. We just realized that you probably hadn't heard that the omens for meeting in your curia were inauspicious." He rolled his eyes theatrically, white eyebrows jumping in derision. "A bit of an inconvenience but...the gods are the gods, aren't they?"

Caesar nodded, frowning. "If it sets all those little minds at ease." He turned on his heel and began past the Well of the Comitia, and thus past his own curia, with Decimus Albinus following. "I swear, if we spent more time administering and less time taking omens and making sacrifices, we'd get a lot more done. Theatre of Pompey, right?"

"Of course," Decimus Albinus head dipped up and down in assent. "Of course," he continued as if stuttering, "before you came along sitting around and scratching their own backsides was a staple of the Senate, wasn't it?"

Caesar grunted agreement, but felt ill at ease with Decimus's sudden flattery. That was not like the man at all. The two military men, trim and fit, clipped easily up the Clivus Argentarius and toward the Campus Martius. It was more of a roundabout route, but this way they avoided having to climb the steep Capitoline Hill and descend the steep Scalae Asyli--Asylum Steps.

They didn't talk along the way, both men normally comfortable with silence. Decimus Albinus was glad for that fact, for surely he'd have given himself away with senseless babbling. His palms sweated and he wiped the right one, hidden by the folds of his toga, on his tunic, brushing the dagger as he did so. His stomach jumped into his throat and there was a tingling in his balls, but he continued to move normally.

As they approached the Theatre Decimus Albinus saw the others standing on the portico, idling, pretending to socialize, but doing the job badly. They kept staring down toward him and Caesar, and stopped talking altogether once they drew close. It didn't occur to him that this was Caesar's default vantage point. At this stage in his life, as the Dictator and the First Man in Rome, men stopped talking and strained to hear what he had to say when they saw him.

A few of them turned and headed inside once he drew close, and most greeted Caesar solemnly, coldly. He saw that most of the faces turned toward him were typically unfriendly ones, and scowled in return. Even round-faced Casca, always happy to see Caesar, looked a bit grim and glum on this fine spring morning. The sun's rays peeked between the Arx and the Capitol, washing the Theatre's white facade in blinding light as Caesar walked in, followed by most of the men. A few of the bigger men stayed on the portico, tense and waiting to repel anybody wanting to join now.


Marcus Antonius, fearing for Caesar's life but wanting to keep appearances, half-jogged and half-walked from his house on the Palatine to the Curia Julia, where almost five hundred senators stood in the brisk morning air, scratching their heads and wondering aloud where Caesar was.

Antonius's heart skipped a beat and he feared the worst, that Caesar had been killed in his home, and that it was too late. He pushed that thought out of his head and looked around, thinking quickly. At this point he would have to reveal his suspicions to Caesar, even if nothing was wrong. The plot against Caesar's life, and Antonius's knowledge of it, had gone too far. To kill the man would be to bring down the only selfless power holding the Republic back from anarchy. Marcus Antonius thought that he could probably come out on top in the end...but at what cost?

Swallowing his distaste he approached Publius Cornelius Dolabella, his enemy of about three years. He wasn't absolutely sure, but he thought that Dolabella had fucked Antonius's cousin and wife Antonia Hybrida. After that there'd been only violence and bad blood between them, and Caesar had greatly regretted putting Antonius as Master of the Horse and Dolabella as Tribune into office together. Still, he was needed now. Dolabella had influence, a following, and was almost as big and strong a man as Antonius himself. "Publius Cornelius," he barked loudly, not caring who heard him. "Something's wrong. We need to find Caesar now."

Dolabella, brown eyes narrowing, looked on the verge of protesting this silliness, when he simply nodded. "Come on Trebellius, Calenus," he called upon another two large, fit men to follow him.

"Hirtius, Pansa, let's go," Antonius nodded, and the six men set off at a quick run toward the Domus Publica, the domicile of the Pontifex Maximus, and so Caesar's home. The streets were beginning to fill, and people stopped in their tracks, moving aside or letting the train of built men weave its way past. They stared in curiosity and mounting dread, that six of the most important men in the Republic should be running around looking deadly at a time like this.

At the Domus Publica Calpurnia told them in a frenzy that she'd watch Caesar go and that she'd seen him and Decimus Albinus pass the curia in the distance, up past the Capitol. "It's the Theatre, then," Dolabella groaned at the time they'd wasted, for the Theatre lay back the way they'd come. As they started back he nudged Antonius and, breathing easily, said, "What's going on, then? They gonna kill the old boy?"

Antonius glanced at him sharply, but realized that they wouldn't be running together if he was in on it. "Not if I have anything to fucking do with it." When they passed the curia the other senators called out questions, but the men sprinted on, now knowing the nearness of their destination. Half the other senators began to run after them, with the other half being too old or too lazy to do any running. Today had been slated to be Caesar's last convention of the Senate before leaving for Parthia, and would have been very well attended.

"Fuck that," Antonius hissed to himself as he eyed the Clivus Argentarius where Caesar and Decimus Albinus had passed minutes before. His powerful legs pistoned up and down as they sprinted up to the Capitol, then sprang as they took the shock of falling down the Scalae Asyli ten steps at a time. Antonius saw the Theatre up ahead...and the dozen beefy men standing in front with their arms crossed. He knew them all, of course. Fellow senators, who didn't appreciate Caesar's aims. Well, he'd knock some sense into them.

Antonius and Dolabella, both feeling the tingling limbs and clear minds that preceded a thousand thousand barroom brawls, roared and charged up the steps. The four men following them, generally older and more experienced soldiers, plodded gently into the violence as if into the arms of an old lover.


Caesar stepped across the glazed terrazzo floor, footsteps drowned by feet of dozens of others. He walked between the long benches of Gnaeus Pompeius's impromptu curia and stopped to look up at the statue of the man himself as he'd been in his prime. Hair a beaten gold darker than Caesar's, nose stubbornly Gallic in its shortness and straightness, eyes a vivid lapis blue. Here you stand, above me again. The Theatre and statue had been erected back when they'd been friends, when there'd been Julia to hold them together. The statue of a man in Rome had to be his own size or smaller, but Pompeius and Caesar had gotten one over the ultraconservatives of those days by planting Pompeius's lifesized statue on a plinth ten feet tall. It served to make the statue impressive without dwarfing it. Not that Pompeius hadn't been impressive back then.

Caesar knelt at the altar to Venus Vitrix, Venus the Victorious, Pompeius's favorite deity and--in his eyes, back then--the goddess that his beloved Julia personified, and prayed for victory over his own love of Rome.

When he stood and turned, he saw the paltry crowd in front of him and frowned, then scowled. This was his last day in Rome before departing for a decade or more to the East, to fight the mounting threat of the Parthians, and only a mere fifty or so senators had arrived by now to send him off? Dawn had passed, and the place should have been packed.

That scowl, simple in its reason, looked like one of contempt for the men arrayed before him, to the men arrayed before him. They were mostly enemies of Caesar, and most of them knew that he knew that. That scowl was a sneer that said, Here I am. I am Rome, and you are nothing. You will have nothing, and your children will scrape to the sons of the loyal barbarians I'm putting in my Senate.

The silence, during which Caesar surveyed his sheep and they Caesar, was broken by Lucius Tillius Cimber, who stumbled forward and bowed his head. "Honored Caesar, before the meeting begins I'd like to speak with you about my beloved brother Publius's exile--" he began quickly, as if shooting off lines remembered by rote.

Caesar's eyes snapped to his face and the scowl became a neutral line on his face as he interrupted, "You've asked before, and I said no. Your brother was beloved to me, until h--"

"Honored Caesar, please, my brother loves his country an--"

"I said no!" Caesar roared, hands on his hips. The pale eyes blazed with fury. "Your brother is a traitor to the country you say he loves. Though I don't doubt he loved me when I exiled him, I must put Rome and her well being above my own. He didn't raise a hand against me, but plundering a pro--"

And now Caesar was cut off by a deeper voice. "No! Enough of this!" Decimus Albinus had stared at their faces and realized that no man had the courage to strike the first blow, to silence the tyrant. So long as he was allowed to rage at and regale them, they would be held in thrall.

"Enough of what?" Caesar shot back, aghast. "What do you mean, Decimus?"

Decimus Albinus's eyes widened and twitched. His heart beat as if a horse was galloping on his chest. "Now, brothers. Enough, it's the time!"

With a high shriek Publius Servilius Casca plunged at Caesar from behind, knifepoint glancing off of Caesar's skull. One of Caesar's hands flew to his brow, but the other shot out and, making a strangely large fist for one whose arms were so wiry, knocked Casca out cold.

"You...fucking...barbarian!" Caesar bellowed, for once out of control of his temper. He bent quickly with that agility and came up bearing Casca's dagger and taking ten small cuts from other daggers along the way. He slid sideways and rolled, unwrapping himself from his toga in one fluid motion and flinging it to entangle two or three men.

Now unburdened, he stood at the base of Pompeius's statue in a battle stance, breathing lightly. Physically he was mostly fine and ready for anything. Mentally he was shocked.

Decimus Albinus saw the world vividly around him as man after man came at Caesar and ducked away before striking true. Stabbing an unarmed man in the back was one thing, but hitting Caesar and coming away alive was something else entirely. The cool, impassive gaze of Pompeius above him was mocking. Decimus Albinus had helped Caesar get rid of one group of tyrants and vipers, and had ended up introducing a worse poisoner than Pompeius and Cato and Bibulus and the rest had ever been.

Decimus Albinus was in the front of the crowd, getting ready to dive at Caesar and have at it, and didn't hear the loud roars until it was too late. Turning at the last second his face met the joined hamlike fists of Marcus Antonius coming up to hit him like a hammer.


Slaves and citizens living nearby were rushing to and fro with wine and rags for the wounded while Hirtius, something of an amateur field physician himself, tended to Caesar. The Great Man stood still in his tunic, eyes calmly regarding the clear blue spring sky. He didn't seem at all affected by the fact that fifty men had just tried to kill him, though Marcus Antonius suspected strongly that acting was a great talent of his.

The conspirators all lay prostrated on the floor where Antonius and the others had shoved them, and the hundreds of other senators had streamed in and were milling about talking excitedly or holding their hands to their mouths or sitting and getting a few extra minutes of sleep before the meeting began in earnest.

The only casualty of this attempt on Caesar's life was Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus. Antonius, despite laying about left and right with those enormous fists and with his hobnailed military sandals, had saved that double knocker for Decimus Albinus, who'd been one of Caesar's most trusted friends. Though Antonius himself had known of a plot years before and hadn't told Caesar...surely this outweighed his guilt? If Caesar ever found out about him knowing. Antonius would have to ensure the deaths of Trebonius, Cinna, and Casca, too, somehow, to make sure they didn't tell.

Hirtius was all done simply patching the shallow wounds on Caesar's arms, though the one on his head required a tight bandage. Caesar felt the area gingerly, hair askew but otherwise looking as normal as if he'd gone for a stroll in the Forum. I, thought Antonius, would be more bothered if I stepped in a puddle.

He had no idea at the depth of Caesar's pain. But Caesar had never been one to show weakness. "I guess," he said in a strong, amused voice, "I'm not going to Parthia tomorrow, am I?"
 
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Dirk

Banned
So, here's the beginning to the collaborative timeline of myself, Emperor Casey, Grouchio, and slydessertfox at least. Others commenting in this thread and this thread might join. Uh, sorry if my writing sucks. I don't think it does, but I could be wrong. What do you think?
 
So. Fucking. Awesome.

(You have great writing capabilities as it is. Keep up the good work.)

OFF TO PARTHIA!!!
 

Dirk

Banned
No other comments? Huh. Well, the stage is set for whoever wants to continue the story, either based on characters like my style above, or on plot like slydessertfox, or like a history book like Grouchio.
 
A history book like me? Hmm. I could see if I could explain Caesar's (and Antony's) past in a historical summary today...

BTW You might want to change 709 AUC to 710 AUC. Tis the correct numbering of the calendar that I just checked...
 
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The Biography of Marcus Antonius

The Biography of Marcus Antonius (Up to 710 AUC)


M_Antonius_modified.png



Marcus Antonius, faithful ally of Julius Caesar, was born in Rome on the 14th of January, 671 AUC as a seed of the Plebian gens Antonia. The gens Antonia is a Roman family of ancient prestige with both plebian and patrician branches: the first member achieving prominence was Titus Antonius Merenda, a Decimvir who helped draft what became the Law of the Twelve Tables way back in 304 AUC. Marcus Antonius was the child of Marcus Antonius Creticus, the son of a noted orator of the same name (who had been murdered amidst the Marian Terror of 667 AUC) and Julia Antonia (Cousin of Julius Caesar, still alive as of 710). When Sulla marched through Rome in 672 Antonius was only a baby.

His father was (according to Cicero) an incompetent, corrupt man who was only given power due to his inability to use or abuse it effectively, and when he was commissioned to defeat the pirates ravaging the Mediterranean in 680, he died in Crete three years later having made no real progress. This left Marcus and his brothers Lucius and Gaius in the care of their mother Julia, who would later marry Publius Cornelius Lentulus Sura (An eminent patrician of old nobility). Lentulus despite political success was constantly in debt due to his extravagances and was a major figure of the Second Catiline Revolt, which lost him his head on Cicero’s orders in 691 (Leading towards a feud between Cicero and the gens Antonia).

Antonius’ early life was characterized with a lack of bad parenting, in which he spent his teenage years wandering the streets of Rome gambling drinking and whoring with his brothers and friends. Cicero believes he was even in a homosexual love affair with Gaius Scribonius Curio! Although little is known of Cicero’s early political activities, he was an associate of Publius Clodius Pulcher and his street gang. He may have even joined the Lupercal cult, as he was referred as a priest of the order later in life. By the time he was twenty, Antonius had amassed an enormous debt, and so sought to escape his creditors by fleeing to Hellas in 696 AUC, where he studied rhetoric and philosophy in Athens.

In 697 Antonius joined the military staff of Aulus Gabinius, Proconsul of the newly conquered province of Syria, as a cavalry chief, starting off his military career. Gabinius, having been consul with Pulcher the previous year had exiled Cicero. Hyrcanus II, the pro-Roman Hasmonean High Priest of Judea, fled Jerusalem to Gabinius’ camp to seek protection against his rival and son-in-law Alexander. For years earlier in 691 AUC, the Roman general Pompeius Magnus had captured him and his father, King Aristobulus II, during his conquest against the husk that was the Seleucid Empire. Pompeius had deposed Aristobulus and installed Hyrcanus as Rome’s client ruler over Judea. It was during this campaign that Antonius achieved his first military distinctions after securing important victories at Alexandrium and Machaerus. With the rebellion defeated by 698, Gabinius had Hyrcanus restored to his position as High Priest.

In 699 AUC Gabinius decided to intervene in the politics of Ptolemaic Egypt, in which Pharaoh Ptolemy XII Auletes has been deposed by his daughter Berenice IV in 696. Seeking asylum in Rome, Ptolemy had already gained the support of Pompeius in earlier conquests as an ally of Rome, and so Gabinius’ invasion sought to restore Ptolemy to his throne. This was only done after Ptolemy provided a 10,000 talent bribe for Pompeius’ approval, against the wishes of the Senate (and after Antonius supposedly convinced Gabinius to act). Gabinius’ legions swiftly defeated Berenice’s forces and her palace guards surrendered Alexandria before battle was even fought. Ptolemy XII was restored as Rome’s client King with a 2000 Roman garrison (known later as the Gabiniani) to ensure the Pharaoh’s authority. In return for its support, Rome now exercised considerable power over Egypt’s affairs, especially over its economy. It was during this time that Antonius first met the legendary beauty Cleopatra, whose desire for the young princess began at this meeting.

While Antonius served Gabinius in the East, affairs back home had changed significantly. In 694 a secret agreement (Known as the Triumvirate) was brokered between three men to control the Republic: Marcus Licinius Crassus, Pompeius Magnus and Gaius Julius Caesar. Crassus (perhaps the richest man in the world) had defeated Spartacus’ slave rebellion in 684 AUC; Pompeius had conquered much of the Eastern Mediterranean in the 680s-90s, and Caesar was Rome’s Pontifex Maximus and a former general in Hispania. In 695 Caesar (with Crassus’ funding) was made Consul to pursue legislation in the interests of the Triumvirs. In return, Caesar was assigned the governorship of the Illyrican, Cisalpine and Transalpine provinces for five years starting in 696 AUC, which he would use as his base towards the great conquest of the rest of Gaul. In 699 AUC, Crassus and Pompeius served as Consuls whilst Caesar had his command extended another five years. The Roman Republic was effectively under the absolute power of these three men; within ten years that power would be delved to just one. The Triumvirate used the demagogue Pulcher, Antonius's patron, to exile their political rivals, notably Cicero and Cato the Younger. Whilst serving Gabinius, Antonius married his cousin Antonia Hybrida Minor, the daughter of Gaius Antonius Hybrida. Sometime between 700 and 705 AUC, they single daughter, Antonia Prima.

Thanks to his association with Clodius Pulcher, Antonius was allowed to achieve greater prominence, especially thanks to Pulcher’s good relations with both Crassus and Caesar. Through such influence Antonius was secured a position of Caesar’s military staff in 700 AUC, joining his conquest of Gaul. Serving under Caesar for the first time, he demonstrated excellent military prowess that would make Antonius and Caesar great friends and allies, which remains as of 709 AUC. After some years of service in Gaul, Antonius was dispatched by Caesar to Rome to formally begin his own political career, becoming Quaestor of 702 as a member of the Populares faction. When Vercingetorix revolted against Caesar in Gaul, Antonius was assigned to Caesar’s aid once again, where he played a vital role as cavalry commander at the Battle of Alesia. Following this legendary victory, Caesar promoted Antonius to the rank of Legate with command over two legions (7,500 soldiers).

During such time the Triumvirate effectively crumbled, as Caesar’s daughter Julia (wife of Pompeius) had died in 700 AUC, whilst Crassus and his legions had been slaughtered at the Battle of Carrhae against the Parthians the year afterwards. Without such provided stability, the rift between Caesar and Pompeius continued to grow. Caesar's glory in his conquest of Gaul had served to further strain his alliance with Pompeius, who, having grown jealous of his former ally, had drifted away from Caesar's democratic Populares party towards the oligarchic Optimates faction led by Cato. The supporters of Caesar, led by Clodius, and the supporters of Pompeius, led by Titus Annius Milo, routinely clashed. In 702 AUC, Milo succeeded in assassinating Clodius, which only led to widespread riots and the destruction of the Curia Hostilia, (The Senate building) by Clodius' street gang. Anarchy ensued, causing the Senate to look to Pompeius for protection, and named him sole Consul to restore order in Rome (naming him dictator would invoke memories of Sulla’s persecutions, they feared). Antonius remained in Caesar’s military staff (mopping up Gallic remnants across Gaul to secure Caesar’s conquest) until 703 AUC, when he was sent back to Rome to act as Caesar’s bulwark against Pompeius and the Optimates. With the support of Caesar, who as Pontifex Maximus was head of the Roman religion, Antonius was appointed the College of Augurs, an importantly priestly office responsible for interpreting the will of the Roman gods by studying the flight of birds. All public actions required a favorable auspices, granting the college considerable influence. Antonius was then elected as one of the ten People's Tribunes for 704 AUC. From this position, Antonius could protect Caesar from his political enemies by vetoing any actions unfavorable to his patron. Nevertheless, the eventuality of civil war between Caesar and Pompeius continued to loom over Rome…

The feud between Caesar and Pompeius erupted into open confrontation by early 705 AUC. The Consuls for the year, Gaius Claudius Marcellus Maior and Lucius Cornelius Lentulus Crus, were firm Optimates opposed to Caesar. Pompeius, though remaining in Rome, was then serving as the governor of Hispania and commanded several legions. Upon assuming office in January, Antonius immediately summoned a meeting of the Senate to resolve the conflict: he proposed both Caesar and Pompeius lay down their commands and return to the status of mere private citizens. His proposal was well received by most of the senators but the Consuls and Cato vehemently opposed it. Antonius then made a new proposal: Caesar would retain only two of his eight legions and the governorship of Illyricum if he was allowed to stand for the Consulship in absentia. This arrangement ensured his immunity from suit would continue, he had needed the Consulship to protect himself from prosecution by Pompeius. Though Pompeius found the concession satisfactory, Cato and Lentulus refused to back down, with Lentulus even expelling Antonius from the Senate meeting by force. Antonius fled Rome, fearing for his life, and returned to Caesar's camp on the banks of the Rubicon River, the southern limit of Caesar's lawful command. Within days of Antonius's expulsion, on 7 January 705 AUC, the Senate reconvened. Under the leadership of Cato and with the tacit support of Pompeius, the Senate passed the “final decree” (senatus consultum ultimum) stripping Caesar of his command and ordering him to return to Rome and stand trial for war crimes. The Senate further declared Caesar a traitor and a public enemy if he did not immediately disband his army. With all hopes of finding a peaceful solution gone after Antonius's expulsion, Caesar used Antonius as a pretext for marching on Rome. As Tribune, Antonius's person was sacrosanct and therefor it was unlawful to harm him or refuse to recognize his veto. Three days later, on 10 January, Caesar uttered the famous words: “The Die is Cast”, and crossed the Rubicon River, starting a civil war. During the southern march, Caesar placed Antonius as his second in command.

Caesar's rapid advance surprised Pompeius, who, along with the other chief members of the Optimates, fled Italia for Greece. After entering Rome, instead of pursuing Pompeius, Caesar marched to Hispania to defeat Pompeian-loyalists there. Meanwhile, Antonius, with the rank of Propraetor despite never having served as Praetor, was installed as governor of Italia and commander of the army stationed in there while Marcus Lepidus, one of Caesar's staff officers, provided the provision administration of Rome itself. Though Antonius was well liked by his soldiers, most other citizens despised him for his lack of interest in the hardships they faced due to the civil war. By the end of the year 705 AUC, Caesar, already at the ruler of Gaul, had captured Italia, Hispania, Sicily, and Sardinia out of Optimates control. In early 706 AUC he prepared to sail with seven legions to Greece to face Pompeius. Caesar had entrusted the defense of Illyricum to Gaius Antonius, Antonius's younger brother, and Publius Cornelius Dolabella. Pompeius' forces, however, defeated them and assumed control the Adriatic Sea along with it. Additionally, the two legions they commanded defected to Pompeius. Without their fleet, Caesar lacked the necessary transport ships to cross into Greece with his seven legions. Instead, sailed with only two and placed Antonius in command of the remaining five at Brundisium with instructions to join him as soon as he was able. In early 48 AUC, Lucius Scribonius Libo was given command of Pompeius' fleet, comprising some fifty galleys. Moving off to Brundisium, he blockaded Antonius. Antonius, however, managed to trick Libo into pursuing some decoy ships, causing Libo’s squadron to be trapped and attacked. Most of Libo’s fleet managed to escape, but several of his troops were trapped and captured. With Libo gone, Antonius joined Caesar in Greece by March 706 AUC.

During the Greek campaign, Antonius was Caesar's top general and was second to only him in reputation. Antonius joined Caesar in in the western Balkan Peninsula and besieged Pompeius larger army at Dyrrhachium. With food source running low, Caesar, in July, ordered a nocturnal assault on Pompeius' camp, but Pompeius' larger forces pushed back the assault. Though an indecisive result, the victory was tactical victory for Pompeius. Pompeius, however, did not order a counter-assault on Caesar's camp, allowing Caesar to retreat unhindered. Caesar would later remark the civil war would have ended that day if Pompeius had only attacked him. Caesar managed to retreat to Thessaly, with Pompeius in pursuit. Assuming a defensive position at the plain of Pharsalus, Caesar's army prepared for pitched battle with Pompeius, which outnumbered his own two to one. At the Battle of Pharsalus on 9 August 706 AUC, Caesar commanded by the right wing opposite Pompeius while Antonius commanded the left, indicating Antonius's status as Caesar's top general. The resulting battle was a decisive victory for Caesar. Though the civil war had not ended at Pharsulus, the battle marked the pinnacle of Caesar's power and effectively ended the Republic. The battle gave Caesar a much needed boost in legitimacy as prior to the battle much of the Roman world outside of Italia supported Pompeius and the Optimates as the legitimate government of Rome. After his defeat, most of the Senate defected to Caesar, including many of the soldiers who had fought under Pompeius. Pompeius himself fled to Ptolemaic Egypt, but Pharaoh Ptolemy XIII Theos Philopator feared retribution from Caesar and had Pompeius assassinated upon his arrival.

Instead of immediately pursuing Pompeius and the remaining Optimates, Caesar returned to Rome and was appointed Dictator with Antonius as his Master of the Horse and second in command. Caesar presided over his own election to a second Consulship for 707 AUC and then, after eleven days in office, resigned this dictatorship. Caesar then sailed to Egypt, where he deposed Ptolemy XIII in favor of his sister Cleopatra in 707 AUC. Cleopatra would become his mistress and the union would produce a son, Caesarion. Caesar's actions further strengthen Rome control over the already Roman-dominated kingdom. While Caesar was away in Egypt, Antonius remained in Rome to govern Italia and restore order. Without Caesar to guide him, however, Antonius quickly faced political difficulties and proved himself unpopular. The chief cause of his political challenges concerned debt forgiveness. One of the Tribunes for 707 AUC, Publius Cornelius Dolabella, a former general under Pompeius, proposed a law which would have canceled all outstanding debts. Antonius opposed the law for political and personal reasons: he believed Caesar would not support such massive relief and suspected Dolabella had sexually seduced his wife Antonia Hybrida Minor. When Dolabella sought to enact the law by force and seized the Roman Forum, Antonius responded by unleashing his soldiers upon the assembled mass. The resulting instability, especially among Caesar's veterans who would have benefited from the law, forced Caesar to return to Italia by October 707 AUC.

Antonius's handling of the affair with Dolabella caused a cooing of his relationship with Caesar. Antonius's violent reaction had caused Rome to fall into a state of anarchy. Caesar sought to mend relations with the populist leader. Caesar was elected to a third term as Consul for 708 AUC, but proposed the Senate should transfer the consulship to Dolabella. When Antonius protested, Caesar was forced to withdraw the motion out of shame. Later, Caesar sought to exercise his prerogatives as Dictator and directly proclaim Dolabella as Consul instead. Antonius again protested and, in his capacity as an Augur, declared the omens were unfavorable and Caesar again backed down. Seeing the expediency of removing Dolabella from Rome, Caesar ultimately pardoned him for role in the riots and took him as one of his generals in his campaigns against the remaining Optimates resistance. Antonius, however, was stripped of all official positions and received no appointments for the year 708 AUC or 709 AUC. Instead of Antonius, Caesar appointed Marcus Aemilius Lepidus to be his Consular colleague for 708 AUC. While Caesar campaigned in North Africa, Antonius remained in Rome as a mere private citizen. After returning victorious from North Africa, Caesar was appointed Dictator for ten years and brought Cleopatra to Rome. Antonius again remained in Rome while Caesar, in 709 AUC, sailed to Hispania to defeat the final opposition to his rule. When Caesar returned in late 709 AUC, the civil war was over. During this time Antonius married his third wife, Fulvia. Following the scandal with Dolabella, Antonius had divorced his second wife and quickly married Fulvia. Fulvia had previously been married to both Publius Clodius Pulcher and Gaius Scribonius Curio, having been a widow since Curio's assassination in 702 AUC. Though Antonius and Fulvia were formally married in 707 AUC, Cicero suggests the two had been in a relationship since at least 696 AUC. The union would produce two children: Marcus Antonius Antyllus (b. 707) and Iullus Antonius (b. 709).

Whatever conflicts existed between himself and Caesar, Antonius remained faithful to Caesar, ensuring their estrangement did not last long. Antonius reunited with Caesar at Narbo in 45 AUC with full reconciliation coming in 710 AUC when Antonius was elected Consul alongside Caesar. Caesar planned a new invasion of Parthia and desired to leave Antonius in Italia to govern Rome in his name. The reconciliation came soon after Antonius rejected an offer by Gaius Trebonius, one of Caesar's generals, to join a conspiracy to assassinate Caesar. Soon after assuming office together, the Lupercalia festival was held on 15 February 710 AUC. The festival was held in honor of Lupa, the she-wolf which suckled the infant orphans Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome. The political atmosphere of Rome at the time of the festival was deeply divided. Caesar had enacted a number of constitutional reforms which centralized effectively all political powers within his own hands. He was granted further honors, including a form of semi-official cult, with Antony as his high priest. Additionally, the day before the festival, Caesar had been named Dictator for Life, effectively granting unlimited power.

Caesar's political rivals feared these reforms were his attempts at transforming the Republic into an open monarchy. During the festival's activities, Antony publicly offered Caesar a diadem, which Caesar refused. The event presented a powerful message: a diadem was a symbol of a king. By refusing it, Caesar demonstrated he had no intention of making himself King of Rome. Antony's motive for such actions are not clear and it is unknown if he acted with Caesar's prior approval or on his own. A group of Senators resolved to kill Caesar to prevent him from seizing the throne. Chief among them were Marcus Junius Brutus, his brother Decimus Brutus Albinus and Gaius Cassius Longinus. Although Cassius was "the moving spirit" in the plot, winning over the chief assassins to the cause of tyrannicide, Brutus, with his family's history of deposing Rome's kings, became their leader. Cicero, though not personally involved in the conspiracy, later claimed Antonius’ actions sealed Caesar's fate as such an obvious display of Caesar's preeminence motivated them to act. Originally, the conspirators had planned to eliminate not only Caesar but also many of his supporters, including Antonius, but Brutus rejected the proposal, limiting the conspiracy to Caesar alone. With Caesar preparing to depart for Parthia in late March, the conspirators prepared to act when Caesar appeared for the Senate meeting on the Ides of March (15 March).

However Marcus Antonius, in an effort that would change the course of Roman history forever, would put a stop to this plot before it could succeed. Rushing out of bed and heading for the Curia Julia, Antonius managed to convince his political rival Dolabella and four other senators that Caesar’s life was in danger, and together they moved to stop the assassins. As the six men fought their way through the conspirators guarding the Capitol building, Caesar himself was able to dodge his assassins’ blades, knocking some of them out before receiving Antonius’ aid. The plot against Caesar’s life was foiled, all the conspirators save Decimus Brutus (who had been killed) captured, and Caesar, only slightly injured, mused on when he’ll be marching off to Parthia this time…



Map of The Roman Republic, 710 AUC

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Dirk

Banned
Excellent! The only thing is that it should be mentioned that the dead conspirator is Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus, not Marcus Junius Brutus (aka THE Brutus). Because of their similarity in name the two are often combined or confused in history. While the monstrously wealthy and conniving Marcus Brutus was likely the conspiracy's leader, crafty strategic general Decimus Brutus might've been its originator and planner.
 
BTW, are you able to change the Title to something that more easily indicates that this is the Caesar surviving TL?
 

Note: For maximum immersion, I recommend you pronounce Caesar as Kaisar as the Romans would pronounce it


Residing in Caesar's villa across the Tiber (the Transtiberim), Cleopatra was beginning to worry about Caesar. He was leaving for Parthia tomorrow, and she was supposed to accompany him out of the city before sailing back to Alexandria. For some time now, she could not wait to leave Rome. She became convinced it was nothing more than a run down, overcrowding, city made out of brick and wood. Even the temples lacked any architectural taste. This city could not compare to Alexandria, a splendid metropolis filled with the brightest minds in the known world. And yet it was Rome, this backwater, was master of the Mediterranean and not Alexandria. It was a bitter irony that never failed to annoy her.

That was not on her mind at the moment however. Nor was the request of Cicero to obtain some books from the Museon—after treating her like an unwanted imbecile---- what she was pondering. Caesar was supposed to have stopped by by now, to confirm all the plans for her trip home tomorrow. She began to worry if the angry senators had done anything to him. She certainly would not put it past them-many of them seemed to be rude and uncultured, and particularly disgusted that a foreign monarch was residing in their city as a welcome guest. She herself had heard bitter remarks about how Caesar was planning on making himself King and Cleopatra his Queen. It was completely odd to her, seeing these upper class Romans disgusted at the idea of monarchy-in her mind, Caesar was king-he had plainly crushed all opposition and ruled Rome virtually alone. The Ptolemaic Queen was no stranger to the nobility disliking a particular monarch, but to oppose completely the whole premise of monarchy? That, that was something that was completely alien to her and could only come from Rome.

Then there was a knock on the door. Cleopatra immediately jumped to her feet and instinctively reached for the dagger by her side. Paranoid perhaps, but if Caesar had been murdered, it would not be too much to assume that the assassins would come for her as well. After handing over Caesarion to a slave, she gestured the other slave- Polybius she thought his name was- to get the door.

“Salve”, Cleopatra heard a women's voice greet Polybius. “I must speak with Cleopatra. It is an urgent matter. She'll know who I am.” she sounded out of breath, like she had rushed over here.

“Why of course. Just a moment, Domina,” Polybius turned to go retrieve Cleopatra, but the queen was already near the door by then. She was shocked to see none other than Caesar's wife Calpurnia standing before her, hands on her knees huffing and puffing and clearly distressed. Cleopatra had never liked Calpurnia. The Roman woman clearly was nothing more than a pawn of Caesar, though at least she seemed to have a basic understanding of how to maneuver through the political arena, something Cleopatra could not say for many of the other wealthy women in Rome. As far as she knew, Calpurnia didn't much care for Cleopatra either, given how she was her husband's lover. This of course made it all the more odd that Calpurnia would come seeking her out urgently, and all the more worried something bad had happened to Caesar.

“Come in Calpurnia,” Cleopatra led her lover's wife into the atrium. “Come and sit. Perhaps a glass of wine?” she gestured to Polybius to retrieve some. Cleopatra was fluent in many languages, Latin being one of them-it was times like these where being multi-lingual came in handy, especially when Calpurnia, unlike most wealthy Roman men, could not speak a lick of the more refined and less vulgar language of the Greeks.

“Thank you” Calpurnia accepted the wine from Polybius as Cleopatra gave her a moment to catch her breath.

“So what brings you hear?” Cleoaptra inquired, knowing it must have something to do with Caesar but unwilling to admit it to herself, fearing the worst.

“It's Caesar,” Calpurnia let out, as she choked on some wine. “Pansa rushed over to my house not to long ago to inform me of what happened,” she paused to drink more wine as Cleopatra too became more worried than ever, fearing that he was now dead, “Did they kill him?” she asked.

Calpurnia let out a nervous chuckle, “Thankfully no.” Cleopatra breathed a sigh of relief as she continued on, “They sure did try though. Pansa told me when he got to the Theater of Pompey, Caesar was backed against the wall fending off blows from a large number of senators. They were about to finish him, when he, Antonius, and Dolabella among a few others crashed in and rescued Caesar. Caesar had wounds all over him and Hirtius took care of it. Pansa said he left before he could see the whole aftermath, but he mentioned that he believed Decimus Brutus was dead.”

Cleopatra listened intently. The names, most of them anyway, hardly registered to her as she was unfamiliar with many of them. The mention of Decimus Brutus and his death however, triggered shock. Caesar had always been fond of the young man, and she had met him once before.

“He died fighting off the assassins I assume?”

Calpurnia shook her head, “He was one of them. Pansa said he was the first to strike a blow.” This came as news to Cleopatra. She understood many of the senators disliked Caesar, but Decimus Brutus and his younger brother Marcus were very close to the dictator. That did not matter much though. As a Ptolemy, she was astutely aware of how easily loyalties could change on a whim. Political assassinations and coups and attempted coups were common place at the Alexandrian court-she herself had only achieved her rule amid the aftermath of a civil war Caesar himself had helped end in her favor. What mattered was that Caesar was still alive, and that the conspirators seemed to have been dealt with. The day she left Rome could not come fast enough.
 
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Loving this so far! Great writing and an absolutely engaging departure from history. I'm definitely following. :)
 
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