The House of the Rising Sun

Chapter Fourteen: Murder of a Man (Beware the Ides of March)

Chapter Fourteen: Murder of a Man (Beware the Ides of March)

Alexander

“So how does it feel to be back home, eh Alexander?” Antony asked me. We arrived in Rome three days ago. Antony and I were walking through the streets of Rome after visiting a temple to thank the gods for our safe return. If we were in Egypt, I’d be seeing Selene tonight, but we weren’t. The streets of Rome now felt worn out, old, and uninteresting after being in Egypt. Our art, our architecture, everything, was nothing like Egypt. Nowhere near as grand.

“It feels weird,” I answered honestly. “I liked Egypt a lot better.” Antony clapped my shoulder.

“Me too, son. Me too.”

“The Egyptians are a fascinating people. They are equal to the Romans—at least, to me—in all aspects of a grand civilization. How else could they have survived this long?”

Antony chuckled. “Don’t go repeating that, Alexander, despite the fact that I agree. The extremists might charge you of treason, and that’s the last thing we need.” He sighed. “Ah, Alexander, you are so tolerant of other cultures, and I admire that in you. If I had a son, I think I would name him after you.”

“Thanks, Antony. I”—

“Mark! Mark!” called a man named Servilius Casca from down the street. He had a grin on his face like he had a solution for the world’s problems.

“What is it, Servilius?”

We stopped walking, and Casca looked at me like I was some pesky fly.

“I need to speak with you in private,” he said. Antony looked at me.

“Meet me back at home,” he said kindly.

“Alright. Bye,” I said, and I left the two alone.

I made my way back to Antony’s house, past the baker, taking a left turn at the brothel, through the garden with statues of the gods, making a right turn at my parents’ house, and to the richer parts of Rome.

In an apprenticeship, the apprentice goes to live with his employer. My parents were very much alive, taking care of my little sister Calpurnia. She’s only a baby. I visited them every once in a while, receiving a warm welcome, but most of the time I was too busy with politics.

When I found the house, Octavian was there, pacing back and forth, obviously awaiting my return.

“Alexander! Glad you’re here,” he said with relief.

“Why? What’s the matter?” I asked. He had stopped pacing.

“I don’t know. The Sen”—

“Wait, Octavian, let’s talk inside, in private,” I suggested, and I led him in.

The house Antony shared with me was rectangular and big. In the middle there was a big courtyard, and great stone columns held up the roof. All balconies and windows faced the courtyard to keep the house safe from thieves. Octavian and I walked to the courtyard, where the fountain we had was running.

“What’s going on?” I asked, when I knew we could speak freely. Octavian stared at the fountain.

“I don’t know, and that’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

Octavian sighed. “The senators have been speaking privately and urgently about something. I know because for the past two days many of the Senate members have been meeting in the Theater of Pompey. They’ve all had sneers or worried looks on their faces—all of them, even Brutus.”