“How could you ask that of me, Cassius? Rome would never see me as a wife. I would be considered your whore, at best your slave.” Her words came out almost a whisper, a pained expression on her face.
He’d been planning to ask for some time, biding his time until they both freed themselves from the grip of Nemesis that had her embroiled in dreams of revenge since she made her debut as a courtesan in his home, and him since receiving news of Pompey’s defeat. “To hell with Rome or with what my peers will think of me marrying you!” Cassius cursed through clenched jaw. His hand smoothed down her hair, finally landing at the nape of her neck bringing his forehead against hers. “You love him, don’t you?”
Cassius already had his suspicions that Epona’s relationship with Antony had gone beyond her original intent, that she would find herself captivated Antony’s charm despite his role as Caesar’s right hand man in the conquering of Gaul. He knew that if he let her go without an answer now, she would never return to him. Epona helped him cope with his past trauma, she accepted him as flawed as he was, supporting him when he felt most insecure of himself. She was never afraid to speak her mind around him, even when it came to her more dangerous thoughts – he admired her honesty and openness in an environment that was hostile to people like her in Rome.
“I do, as I love you.” She fought back the tears blurring her vision. It was a painful truth she had to admit not only to Cassius, but to herself in order to finally free herself from Antony’s shackles. “Yet, unlike him, I know your heart truly lies with me. How could I not choose you?”
The sun had barely risen when Epona left the villa, the streets were quiet save for a few farmers bringing in produce and grain from the countryside in carts. Walking through the marketplace, Epona noticed a young girl staggering through an alleyway. The young girl’s clothes were tattered and ripped, almost falling off her small bony body. Welts covered most of her back, some still fresh and bloody, a brand above her left shoulder blade: a slave. Buying a fresh loaf of bread from a baker still setting up his stall, Epona quickly caught up with the young girl, her hand landing on her shoulder. The young girl flinched in terror, backing away from Epona, nothing but fear in her worn eyes “Please don’t hurt me, domina!“
Epona offered the bread to the girl, “Eat this, girl.” The slave girl hesitantly took the bread from her hands and ravished it as if her last meal had been days ago. Epona couldn’t help but chuckle at how quickly the girl ate the bread, hoping it would sate her hunger until whenever her next meal came. She brushed the knotted brown hair away from the girl’s face, quietly offering her a blessing, “May the Great Mother watch over you. May She give you the strength to survive the cruelty you will endure. May those who would hurt you be struck down by Her might.”
The girl couldn’t quite meet Epona’s eyes, keeping her head bowed, “Gratitudes, domina.”
The fear in the girl’s eyes felt all too familiar to Epona. She was once a slave in shackles, forced out of her home, ripped away from her family and brought to an unfamiliar land. If not by the grace of Tsirona, she could have been that young girl, marked and branded, devoid of everything that made her Epona. Even though she won in her trial of vengeance, Rome remained the same. The same Rome that took her youth, her tribe, her homeland, her family, her flesh. Anger simmered in her, the same anger she felt under Aquila’s shackles. The anger she felt in those woods as he and his men took her – her screams unanswered. She vowed she would survive and instead she flourished, the Romans that harmed her and her family now in the afterlife where they belonged.
It was little she could do about the treatment of Rome’s slaves as a courtesan, but she would be a senator’s wife soon and his ear would be open to her suggestion. She may feel some guilt about using her soon-to-be husband’s position in such way, but she also knew that he would agree with her. Any slaves Cassius inherited from his father were set free and offered proper coin for their services instead, his words always backed by direct action that were met with snide remarks from his peers in the senate. Perhaps her reputation could change the minds of Romans, likely more effective than pleading to the senate which would probably fall to deaf ears. Or maybe she would take the matter into her own hands, freeing the slaves herself and let them burn Rome for its sins against the children of Tsirona.
Epona made her way into Pompey’s villa, oddly left empty of any guards or servants. With light steps, she walked into the dining area to find Antony seated next to a table, pouring wine from an amphora into his goblet. His movements were inaccurate, spilling wine onto the table and even overfilling his goblet before he gulps it down at once. It appeared that someone already broke the news of Caesar’s assassination to Antony. She cursed herself internally, an unfortunate circumstance of her mental anguish and exhaustion from the day prior.
“A bit early to be drunk, no?” Epona questioned, closing the distance between them until she stood across from him.
He scoffs, filling the goblet again before leaning back into the chair. His eyes met hers, glazed-over and bloodshot, a strange sight for Epona unsure if it was due to the inebriation or Antony succumbing to a good cry. “His loyalty may have wavered, but Caesar was still like a father to me.” A mournful look crosses his face, downing more of the wine again. “However, I doubt you’re here to speak of dead men.”
“Not at all, only of what is to follow.” Epona moved around the table, fingers stroking the wooden surface of the table until she finally settled next to Antony. “A full pardon for myself, Cassius and Brutus on the charges of murder.”
“Caesar has yet reached the underworld and you’re already asking favor?”
“I am certain your beloved pater is already plotting to crucify Pluto as we speak.” Epona smirked at him, almost mockingly. “You will soon be declared consul of Rome due to the actions of the Liberators. Surely such a grand prize deserves the small reward of a pardon?”
Antony watched her thoughtfully, stroking his chin as if trying to figure out her angle, “Oddly specific for you to mention only Cassius and Brutus in this…pardon.”
“Do away with the others if you wish but Brutus is a valuable ally and fiercely loyal. He will be useful to you in the senate and may even sway dissenters to your side.”
“And young Cassius? I can’t see him being easily motivated to support me by just pardoning him.” Antony cocked an eyebrow at her.
Epona carefully thought about her next words, not wanting to give away her true feelings. “Cassius would have me as his wife and I would love nothing more than enjoying the luxuries of his wealth. I can’t do that if he’s dead.”
“Ha! Epona, Princess of Gaul, greatest courtesan in all of Rome and now wife of a senator.” Antony laughed, now swirling the wine around his goblet. He tried to hide it but she noted the slight bitter expression on his face. Epona winced at the epithet of “Princess of Gaul”, a name given to her by Rome to increase her value. She was no delicate royalty but a fierce warrior and chieftain of the Catauni, the title she inherited from her father despite her tribe being no more.
His free hand caressed her thigh, slowly moving upward, ending right at the apex before moving his hand away. Epona nearly faltered in her attempt to disguise her arousal, choosing not to look at him directly instead. Antony smirked, leaning in towards her breast, hot breath warming her bare skin. “Why just be a senator’s wife when I can give you all of Rome?”
And there was the Antony she knew, bargaining with her knowing his true loyalty remained with himself. “Because any affection you may have for me will always remain secondary to your ambitions.” she stated harshly.
It was a difficult truth Epona had to come to terms with despite loving him. It would only take someone more beautiful, more powerful and more ambitious before he would discard her and move on. She enjoyed their “games” against those they both hated but she knew deep down he was using her as much as she used him. She loved him but hated how small he made her feel at times, as if one misstep and he would take her life without notice. She refused to live as such, under the thumb of a man who wanted nothing but complete control.
“And you don’t think Cassius would use you as he has done before?!” he spat, slamming down his goblet on the table, some wine spilling on the table and her gown.
Epona rolls her eyes, “Oh Antony, jealousy does not suit you. You wanted Rome and now you have it, I was never part of the deal.” Epona silently prayed that would be enough to convince him. She finished the remainder of his wine before heading for the exit.
“You’re aware the your actions may just start a civil war. What if perhaps…I happen to strike down Cassius on the battlefield?” Antony threatened.
She had enough of Antony’s manipulations. She found a way to free himself from him, his puppet strings and he would even take that freedom from her. Clenching her fists in anger, she look over her shoulder, clenching her jaw “Then you will meet me on the battlefield.”