Agrippa’s legions. Lucius begged pardon, and was granted it freely. Octavianus gave him Further Spain to govern, and he left for it at once. He was, I think, a happy man.’
‘And was this dictatorial appointment sanctioned by the Senate and People of Rome?’ Antony asked, part relieved, part outraged. Curse Lucius! Always trying to outdo his big brother Marcus, never succeeding.
‘It was,’ said Plancus. ‘Some objected to it—’
‘Favored treatment for the bald-headed Forum demagogue?’
‘Er – well, yes, the phrase was used. I can give you the names. However, Lucius was consul last year and your uncle Hybrida is censor, so most people felt that Lucius deserved his pardon and appointment. He should be able to have a nice little war with the Lusitani and triumph when he comes home.’
Antony grunted. ‘Then he’s wriggled out of things better than he deserves. Utter idiocy from start to finish! Though I’d be willing to bet that Lucius just followed orders. This was Fulvia’s war. Where is she?’
Plancus opened his brown eyes wide. ‘Here, in Athens. She and I fled together. At first we didn’t think that Brundisium would let us – it’s passionately for Octavianus, as always; but I gather Octavianus sent word that we were to be allowed to leave Italia, provided we took no troops with us.’
‘So we have established that Fulvia is in Athens, but whereabouts in Athens?’
‘Atticus gave her the use of his domus here.’
‘Big of him! Always likes to have a foot in both camps, does our Atticus. But what makes him think I’m going to be glad to see Fulvia?’
Plancus sat mute, unsure what answer Antony wanted to hear.
‘And what else has happened?’
‘Don’t you call that enough?’
‘Not unless it’s a full report.’
‘Well, Octavianus got no money out of Perusia to fund his activities, though from somewhere he manages to pay his legions sufficient to keep their men on his side.’
‘Caesar’s war chest must be emptying fast.’
‘Do you really think he took it?’
‘Of course he took it! What’s Sextus Pompeius doing?’
‘Blocking the sea lanes and pirating all the grain from Africa. His admiral Menodorus invaded Sardinia and threw Lurius out, which means Octavianus has no source of grain left, save what he can buy from Sextus at grossly inflated rates – up to twenty-five or thirty sesterces the modius.’ Plancus gave a small mew of envy. ‘That’s where all the money is – in Sextus Pompeius’s coffers. What does he intend to do with it: take over Rome and Italia? Daydreams! The legions love big bonuses, but they’d not fight for the man who starves their grannies to death. Which is why, I daresay,’ Plancus went on in a reflective voice, ‘he has to enlist slaves and make freedmen admirals. Still, one day you’re going to have to wrest the money off him, Antonius. If you don’t, perhaps Octavianus will – and you need the money more.’
Antony sneered. ‘Octavianus win a sea battle against a man as experienced as Sextus Pompeius? With Murcus and Ahenobarbus as allies? I’ll deal with Sextus Pompeius when the time comes, but not yet. He spells failure for Octavianus.’
Knowing she looked her best, Fulvia waited eagerly for her husband. Though the few grey hairs didn’t show in her mop of ice-brown hair, she had made her woman painstakingly pluck every one before dressing it in the latest fashion. Her dark red gown hugged the curves of her breasts before falling in a straight sheet that showed no hint of a protruding belly or thickened waist. Yes, thought Fulvia, preening, I carry my age very well. I am still one of Rome’s most beautiful women.
Of course she knew about Antony’s merry little winter in Alexandria; Barbatius had tattled far and wide. But that was a man’s thing, and none of her business. Did he philander with a Roman woman of high estate, it would be different. Her claws would be out in a moment. But when a man was away for months, sometimes years on end, no sensible wife stuck in Rome would think the worse of him for getting rid of his dirty water. And darling Antonius had a penchant for queens, princesses, women of the high foreign nobility. To bed one of them made him feel as much like a king as any republican Roman could tolerate. Having met Cleopatra when she stayed in Rome before Caesar’s assassination, Fulvia understood that it was her title and her power that had attracted Antony. Physically she was far from the lusty, strapping women he preferred. Also, she was enormously wealthy, and Fulvia knew her husband; he would have been after her money.
So when Atticus’s steward appeared to tell her that Marcus Antonius was in the atrium, Fulvia gave a shudder to settle her draperies and flew down the long, austere corridor from her rooms to where Antony was waiting.
‘Antonius! Oh, meum mel, how wonderful to see you!’ she cried from the doorway.
He had been studying a magnificent painting of Achilles sulking by his ships, and turned at the sound of her voice.
After that, Fulvia didn’t know what exactly happened, his movements were so fast. What she felt was a crashing slap to the side of her face that knocked her sprawling. Then he was looming over her, his fingers locked in her hair, and dragging her to her feet. The open-handed blows rained on her face, no less huge and hurtful than another man’s fist; teeth loosened, her nose broke.
‘You stupid cunnus!’ he roared, still striking her. ‘You stupid, stupid cunnus! Who do you think you are, Gaius Caesar?’
Blood was gushing from her mouth and nose, and she, who had met every challenge of an eventful life with fierce fire, was helpless, shattered. Someone was screaming, and it must have been her, for servants came running from all directions, took one look, and fled.
‘Idiot! Strumpet! What do you mean, going to war against Octavianus in my name? Frittering away what money I had left in Rome, Bononia, Mutina? Buying legions for the likes of Plancus to lose? Living in a war camp? Who do you think you are, to assume that men like Pollio would take orders from you? A woman? Bullying and bluffing my brother in my name? He’s a moron! He always was a moron! If I needed any further proof of that, his throwing in with a woman is it! You’re beneath contempt!’
Spitting with rage, he pushed her roughly to the floor; still screaming, she scrambled away like a crippled beast, tears flowing now faster than the blood.
‘Antonius, Antonius! I thought to please you! Manius said it would please you!’ she cried thickly. ‘I was continuing your fight in Italia while you were busy with the East! Manius said!’
It came out in mumbled snatches; hearing ‘Manius’, suddenly his temper died. Her Greek freedman, a serpent. In truth, he hadn’t known until he saw her how angry he was, how the fury had festered in him throughout his voyage from Ephesus. Perhaps had he done as he had originally planned and sailed straight from Antioch to Athens, he might not have been so enraged.
More men than Barbatius were talking in Ephesus, and not all about his winter with Cleopatra. Some joked that, in his family, he wore the dresses while Fulvia wore the armor. Others sniggered that at least one Antonian had waged a war, even if a female. He had had to pretend he didn’t overhear any of these remarks, but his temper built. Learning the full story from Plancus had not helped, nor the grief that had consumed
