The Bloody Ides of March.

 

 

 Brutus first noticed the change in Caesar after his return from Gaul. 

 In the aftermath of every major victory, the Senate voted a Triumph for its successful generals, giving them and their legions the right to parade through the streets bearing arms.  The whole city would turn out to watch as the glorious ranks of polished soldiers marched to the Forum on the Capitoline hill.  At their head rode the general in charge, behind him, his prisoners of war to be sold into slavery or, depending on their rank, to be strangled in the Tullianum as an offering to Jupiter. 

 During Caesar's Triumph after the conquest of Gaul, Brutus noticed Caesar looking pale. A red tinge ghosted the white of his eyes and he appeared weak and listless.

"Are you well Caesar?"  He'd asked as they watched the last of the Gaulish chiefs being strangled.

"A minor ague, Brutus. It will pass" Caesar smiled tiredly, eyeing a trickle of blood dripping from the mouth of one of the dead chiefs.

"Leave me now, I must give praise to Jupiter for this great victory."

"Then I will give praise with you old friend." Brutus smiled. "Let the others feast your return while we give our thanks to the Gods."

Caesar turned and smiled wolfishly at his trusted companion, "No, you go on, I wish to be alone."

Confused, Brutus nodded and withdrew, leaving Caesar to commune with Jupiter alone.

 Later, at the feast set in his honour, Brutus noticed a refreshed and exuberant Caesar, all trace of his earlier frailty gone while he regaled his guests with stories of battles against the Aedui, Suebi and the Helvetii. His energy seemed boundless and Brutus, wondering at the miraculous change, feared the worst.  He left the party early and, on a hunch, made his way to the Tullianum, the prison built on the Capitoline hill.  Imprisonment was not normally used as a punishment in Rome so, as there was no permanent prison population, the building stood as quiet as the grave.

 He made his way to the underground chamber where the Gaulish chiefs had been executed. 

Once there, Brutus surveyed the bodies in front of him.  He had no need to study the ragged cadavers closely as his suspicions were immediately confirmed. The stiffening corpses were all, to a man, horribly mutilated by a gaping wound on the neck. Such injuries would normally have rendered the floor awash with blood, but the cell was dry.

Brutus called for the gaoler.

 Trembling, eyes bright in fear, the man could give no reason for the damage and stated that the last person to leave the cell had been Gaius Julius Caesar himself.

"Burn the bodies and tell no man of what you have seen here Gaoler, or my dogs will have your tongue for supper. If the Plebs find out about what you have seen, then it will mean the end of Caesar and maybe the end of Rome. If this gets out old man, I will come for you and you will suffer."

 Nodding respectfully, the gaoler swore silence and Brutus left him to take care of the bodies.

He knew what had happened to Caesar, he had witnessed the effects of the Vampire curse on a short visit to the Dacian legions a few years earlier. If this news were to be made known, then the delicate flower of peace that had now settled in Rome would be crushed in the blink of an eye. The Plebs were only too happy to rebel at the slightest provocation and the unbelievable news that their leader was now a vampire would certainly send them over the edge.

 However, Brutus acknowledged, Caesar's affliction could be contained and the fragile bloom of civil peace would be maintained if it were kept a secret.

 

 Seasons passed as Caesar crushed his enemies abroad and in the Senate until peace ruled; and with the security of harmony came a new era of openness by Caesar about his appetites.

 Brutus noticed the change the day he perceived a scar on the neck of one of Caesar’s household slaves.  Though he tried to hide his shock, he knew that Caesar had observed his reaction.

"Something wrong Brutus?" he asked knowingly, a smile twitching behind the mask of concern.  Now aware of the marks, Brutus couldn’t help but notice the same scarring on all of Caesar's slaves.  If Brutus had seen the marks, then who else? His edginess slowly morphed into terror as Caesar leant towards him to whisper,

"Fear not Brutus, I know what you have done for me in the past.  I need good men in the Senate, men who have proven their loyalty to Rome.  You have nothing to fear from the house of the Julii."

 Never the less, Brutus knew to be scared.  If someone else saw the marks on his slaves and then added two and two together, what then?  As a known favourite of Caesar, would he also be cast to the fires if Caesar’s true identity was uncovered?

 It was a chilly January night that pushed Brutus over the edge of intrigue and into the realm of political assassination. Caesar called a vote by the Senate on whether to accept Gaulish chiefs into their elite ranks. This, a not very subtle plan to bolster his number of allies within the Capitoline hill, had outraged the xenophobic Patrician class and a full-scale Senate rebellion seemed at hand.

 Gaius Cassius Longinus and Marcus Tullius Cicero ambushed Brutus on his way to the Forum. His thoughts on the proposed vote, Brutus was caught unawares as they took by the elbows in a pincer movement.

"Brutus, we must talk" Cassius said as they propelled him to a side chamber.

"What is it, if you want my vote against the Gauls you’ve got it? What is Caesar thinking?"

Cassius cut him off.  "No, this is far worse. Tell him Cicero."

 Brutus looked to the famed orator, once an ally of Pompey and a bitter enemy of Caesar, who seemed to struggle for the right words.

"How can I put it?" was all he could manage, so Cassius spoke for him.

"Caesar is a vampire. I know it and Cicero here does too. We’ve both seen him drinking the blood of his slaves. With my own eyes I saw him grab a girl and rip out her neck. It was awful, there was blood all over her, I’m sure he saw me."

 Brutus cut in.  "He saw you? What did he do?"

He paused to swallow and rubbed a trembling hand across his forehead.

"As I walked into the garden I saw him in the moonlight talking softly, almost singing to a girl.  She was bewitched, I could see her face over his shoulders as I came from behind them. Suddenly he grabbed her and pulled her to him.  I heard the crunch as he bit into her but she didn’t utter a sound.  I, it was, it was terrible Brutus.  He was like a jackal tearing at its prey."

 Cassius leant back against a column for support and Cicero moved to support his elbow.

"Suddenly he stopped. That awful sound of him drinking her blood stopped and he slowly turned his head in my direction." "What did you do?"  Brutus could imagine the scene and his own heart raced at the thought of what Cassius told him.

"I ran!  I just ran out. I could have sworn I heard him behind me all the way home but I never saw him.  He’s a demon, or a vampire Brutus.  We have to do something."

 Brutus turned to Cicero, who looked physically drained by what was being discussed.  "And you old friend?  What have you seen?"

As if being accused of some terrible crime, Cicero blanched and his trembling hand went to his throat.

The reaction meant more to Brutus than any tale the famous poet could even begin to think up and he placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

 Cicero’s eyes changed from fear to suspicion as he recognised the look of a fellow initiate to their secret.

"And you Brutus, what have you seen?"

Brutus let his hand drop resignedly from Cicero’s shoulder and sighed.

"I’ve seen enough to know you both," he looked up at them, "that you both speak the truth."

Cassius had been holding his breath and he visibly relaxed when Brutus said he believed.

Cicero, ever one to the point and yet always willing to take the back seat, spoke for the pair of them.

"And what does the mighty Brutus propose to do?"

 He’d known all along that this moment would come, yet he had feared its arrival as the Gladiator does his first fight.  The secret was out, he might be able to quash it but for how long?  He needed time to think, to stall and set his plans in motion.

 "Nothing."  They both gasped at his answer. 

"But Brutus!" Cassius spluttered.

"I propose to do nothing.  Rome under his guidance has become stronger than ever before.  We are prosperous and we are free.  I am not going to rock the boat with some wild accusation that the man, to whom we have all this to be grateful for, is a monster."

 He put a hand on both their shoulders to calm them.  "So what if he takes a slave every now and then, Cassius, I was there when you had one of your slaves strangled for attempting to escape.  Caesar will do us no harm, whereas we can only harm Rome if we attack Caesar."

 The moment stretched as they both worked over his stance.  Cicero looked to Cassius to act:

"I’ll have nothing to do with a beast of Hades, Brutus.  We must act and act now.  Besides,.  Casco, Cimber and Galba have all seen things too.  There will be others, we just need to ask around."

 Brutus groaned inwardly and lifted a hand to stop him, "Cassius, think about what you want to do, think about it!  You need proof before you accuse him, or he'll have you killed."

 Cicero, femininely manipulative and sly, saw right through Brutus.

"You’ve known about this for a long time, haven't you Brutus?  Why didn’t you do anything, why are we asking you for help when you knew all along?  Are you for the beast or against him, that’s all we need to know."

"I am for Rome and have always been for Rome.  Do not do anything rash that could endanger the status quo," he answered woodenly.

Cassius looked hard at Brutus, "That’s no answer and you know it.  Brutus, are you with us or not?"

 He closed his eyes, sighed and nodded acceptance, he knew he couldn’t avoid it.  This moment had been written in the stars a long time ago and it was only his stubborn belief that he could keep it a secret that had postponed it.

 "Cassius, seeing as you push the point, then yes, I am with you.  But I beg of you both, use stealth.  We must use cunning to spread the word before we strike."

 The course set, Brutus knew now that it could only lead to the death of Caesar.  "Together we can and will bring him down.  We must gather our allies in the Forum, there’s enough anger about the Gauls for us to make a move against Caesar.  But whatever you do, do not mention vampires."

 

 The gathering of allies turned out to be easier than Brutus could have imagined.  The xenophobia of the Roman Senate was eclipsed only by their dislike and envy of Caesar and the movement garnered momentum at breathtaking speed.  Caesar's plan to introduce the Gaulish chiefs into the Senate had distanced him from a large part of Rome’s governing elite and so it fell nicely in place with the rebel's plans..

 However, the catalyst that set the wheels of Caesar’s death in motion was the festival of the Lupercalia.

 Lupercalia, the festival involving young men of high birth running naked through the streets of Rome, wearing a wolf’s mask and carrying a strap made from the hide of a sacrificed goat.  The runners whipped young ladies lightly with the strap on the buttocks as they passed to promote fertility.  It celebrated no god in particular and its roots lay in pre-Roman times, when Romulus and Remus were supposed to have been suckled by the she-wolf Goddess Luperca.

 During the festivities, as the men passed the shaded dais on which Caesar sat, Marcus Antonius ran to Caesar and, in a pre-rehearsed move, pretended to place a crown on Caesar's head.

 It was meant to appear spontaneous, a joke and a large part of the crowd roared their approval at the overly theatrical way Antonius placed the crown over his head.  Maintaining the play, Caesar moved to swat the crown away.  Three times Antonius held the crown over Caesar, and the third time Caesar paused before pushing the crown away.

 The masses saw it as a prank by Caesar's closest ally, however the ruling elite was mortified.

 Caesar wanted to be King and a large part of the common people wanted it too.

The Senate's reaction played superbly into the hands of Brutus, Cassius and Cicero, who gathered their forces and made their plans.

 

 They now numbered sixty.  Sixty men ready to murder Caesar to protect the sanctity of the republic.  However, only six men knew the real reason behind the plan to assassinate Caesar was to rid Rome of a vampire dictator. The Ides of March was the date chosen for Caesar to die.

 The Forum was packed as Caesar entered.  He took his place on the Chair of State he’d had set up to act as a throne.  Nobody had yet called it as such, but to all intents and purposes, that was what it had come to be seen as.

 The session had not yet been called to order and the floor of the forum was filled with senators milling around and talking. It was Tillius Cimber who took the lead.  An avid republican and a bitter enemy of Caesar, he moved to stand in front of him and nervously bowed as if wanting to speak.  Caesar smiled as Cimber approached and leaned forward thinking he wanted to whisper something to him.

 Caesar's face turned to shock and then outrage as Cimber pulled him by his toga from the Chair of State.

"Unhand me now Cimber, what are you doing?" He roared, silencing the hall immediately.

 Cimber looked frantic, close to panic.  "Come on, what are you waiting for?"  He shouted to the others.  Casca stepped forward, his face resolute yet fearful. He paused briefly to look down at Caesar who glared at him before seeing the knife.

"Casca, what are you doing, what are you all doing? Help me here with this madman!" he shouted.

 Casca visibly flinched at the words and losing his nerve, he finally stabbed ineffectually at Caesar with the dagger.  Caesar cried out in anger and desperation, only now realising what was about to happen.

 Then like a pack of wolves they fell on him.  Brutus looked on fascinated and horrified as Caesar was butchered.  The frenzied mob stood back as Caesar broke free of the flashing blades and stumbled to fall at the pedestal of the statue to Pompey.

 Slowly, one by one, all eyes turned to Brutus, who alone had stood aloof to the slaughter.

Prompted by Cassius, he fumbled for the knife hidden in the folds of his toga.

 Brutus produced the blade and its glint caught Caesar’s eye.  He'd had it made especially for this day and Caesar's eyes widened in fear as he recognised the metal.  Silver, the only metal capable of destroying a vampire

He approached the statue where Caesar lay and winced at the anguish as he cried his final words,

"You too, child?"

 Brutus stood over him and Caesar's eyes rolled in his head as he turned to cover his face and wait for the coup de grace. The silence in the forum was crashing and Brutus was sure he could hear every one of the hearts beating in the bodies of the men who had taken part in the assassination.

 Bending down, he supported himself with one hand on Caesar's shoulder and stabbed down savagely at the large artery in the groin. Blood gushed like a fountain and Gaius Julius Caesar, Dictator in Perpetuity, went visibly limp under his robe.  Brutus then turned to face the crowd.

 Some looked away in shame, others looked ecstatic and proud.  They had murdered their leader but now nobody knew what to do. 

 Brutus had written a speech for this moment, but as he pulled it out of his toga a howl of anguish from outside stopped him dead. Markus Antonius, Caesar's greatest ally and supporter who had been lured outside before the assassination, had just learned of Caesar's demise and his grief shook them all.

 Suddenly, triggered by that wretched cry of misery, a collective madness gripped the men of the Senate.  As one they ran from the Forum, leaving Brutus to himself next to the body of his former friend.

He turned to Caesar's still form and knelt beside him, pulling his robes down to cover his nakedness, then he rubbed the blood away from the face of the corpse.  Twenty three stab wounds but only one had been fatal, and Brutus knew it had been his.

"Gaius, if only you’d have been more discreet all would have been well," he whispered as he studied the blood on his hands.  As it dripped, he slipped his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean.

"And besides, there’s only room for one vampire in the Senate."

 

 

 

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updated by @c-reg-jones: 02/12/16 11:56:55PM