Snippet

 When the Ides Struck

Regina wrapped her tan arms tightly around Darius’ waist. Her head was pressed against his chest; she could hear his heart pounding. Sweat slicked his brow, and his panicked eyes darted to and fro. Regina wept softly as tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping off her chin. Since when did she, one of Julius Caesar's many daughters, a princess of the Roman Republic, cower or wail? The Ides were coming! She could hear their pounding footfalls as they traveled through the palace. 

    “Do not leave me, my love, please!” Regina cried, digging her nails into the hem of Darius' velvet cape. 

    He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her tightly against him. When he pulled away she could see the tears in his eyes and the pain of the path he knew was ahead. She pushed her black hair away from her tear streaked face as her love set his hand to the hilt of his sword and took a few steps back. His sandals gave a rhythmic ‘thump, thump’, joining with the sound of the oncoming Ides. 

    “My duty is to your father, my princess. Go somewhere safe. Don’t wait for me, just keep going and search for Octavian, or Marcus Lepidus, or any other allies of your father,” Darius said, his voice rich with misery. Grief pooled in his eyes. 

    Regina gave another mournful cry and tried to reach for him, but it was too late. He was already running out the door heading for the throne room. 

    Regina staggered back, a hand pressed over her mouth. Her other hand wrapped around the waist of her violet dress, which was torn and streaked with dirt. How many had died and how many would, before the Ides lust for death was satisfied? 

    A shriek that made the princess’ blood run cold reverberated through the palace. Regina bounded to the doorway, throwing herself through and sprinting for the throne room. 

    “Please, please, please,” she cried to herself, “do not be as I fear.” 

    She stopped dead in the tracks at the feet of her fallen brother; he was hardly a youth. Only three years younger than herself. Regina gasped and knelt beside him, touching his bloodied hand. Rage boiled in her chest, as she rose on shaking legs. Regina set one of her hands to her cheek, heedless of the blood she wiped on her smooth skin. The Ides could be anywhere, she had to escape, but how could she leave without her love, without Darius? He would be slaughtered. 

    Tears blinding her and fears pushing her on, Regina forced aside the remnants of the door to her father’s throne room. There, lying dead in a heap, was Julius Caesar. His crown of laurels was lying on the ground; pushed beyond the reach of his outstretched, motionless arm. Standing over him, a bloodied dagger in hand, was Brutus, a conspirator and traitor to her father. 

    Hot tears fell down her cheeks and hatred boiled in her chest. Her father would have told her to pray to Mars, the god of war, yet wars were what had led to this attack. If only her father had been able to bring about peace.

    Regina glanced around the room, desperately looking for Darius. She quickly spotted him in the corner, fighting against Cassius, a known leader of the Ides. Darius’ sword had been blown from his hands and he was on his knees, glaring up at the towering form of one of her father’s murderers. 

    Regina grabbed a sword from a fallen, roman warrior and ran to him. She leapt over the twisted bodies and smote Cassius with all the strength she could muster. The blade bounced off his heavy, steel armor and clattered to the ground. Cassius spun on her and raised his blood stained dagger over his head, preparing to end her life. Darius leapt at the opportunity. He jumped onto Cassius’ back and tried to pry the dagger from the killer’s grip. Brutus was on him in a second. Darius tumbled to the ground after one blow to the gut from Brutus’ armored elbow. Gasping in pain, he turned his head to Regina. Their eyes locked. Darius’ lips parted and mouthed his last words. 

    “I love you, my princess.” 

    Regina dived for him, hoping that she could get there in time, that she could save her beloved soldier. Brutus raised his dagger and plunged it into Darius' chest, embedding it in the soldier’s heart. He fell limp instantly. Regina gasped, as an agonizing pain overwhelmed her. She crawled the rest of the way to Darius, and, sobbing, laid her head against his chest. There was no heartbeat, no warmth in his skin as she clasped his hand in hers. She cradled his head in her lap, and, lying there, let her tears fall onto her beloved's cheek.

    Brutus grabbed her arms and pulled her away. Regina was too numb with pain to resist. Darius' ashen white face looked, unblinking, at the ceiling above. She wished she could will him to rise, to say he was alive, and that it had all been a farce, but it wasn’t. The love of her life was dead and now she would become one of the first slaves of what would later become known as the Roman Empire.

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