Triumvirate

As was becoming custom, the ever charming Marc Antony staggered into the atrium rubbing his forehead furiously. He took a second to bark at nearby slaves for wine before collapsing in a chair and lolling.

“Do excuse me, Little Caesar...Lepidus. There was rather a wild wedding feast that I just couldn’t get out of attending and I’m afraid I’m a little delicate this morning,” he babbled whilst he grotesquely adjusted himself in our presence.

Lepidus said nothing as I knew he would but rather chose to ignore Antony’s shortcomings. I, myself, as one of the stronger individuals of the newly formed Triumvirate fixed the drunken fool with a steely glare until he shifted uncomfortably and shook his head attempting to clear the intoxication.

“Now then,” I began. “It seems to me that this arrangement is somewhat failing. One of our merry band has forgotten that bribes count as revenue and revenue is to be shared between the three of us.”

“Sons of Dis! It was a gift!” Antony protested. “Haven’t you ever heard of a fucking gift, lad?”

My lip curled. Lad indeed. Here was the so called lad who’d defeated this pleb-like oik in Cisalpine Gaul and watched him run for the mountains. I looked over towards Lepidus who seemed equally as affronted, so affronted in fact that he spoke for the first time in three meetings.

“My dear co-consul, a sum of money given with the express intent of helping said individual, whom I assume is Herod of the Jews, then it is a bribe. I want my share, Antony. You’ve cheated us far too often.”

“Quite,” I agreed.

“Fine!” Antony cried, throwing his goblet down on the ground petulantly. “Have your damned share! Just grant me the dignity of a finder’s fee.”

“Naturally,” I interjected before Lepidus could say more. It was vital to keep tensions level for what I had planned. “Now my reasons for this meeting today is it is clear to me that, with the lack of communication between us, that we cannot all rule the empire together. Therefore, I propose we take charge of certain areas. What say you?”

To this Mark Antony straightened and I began to sense he was plotting.

“Well of course, Octavian Caesar, you shall have Rome as is fitting. The west of the Empire shall be yours as well for land purposes. I shall have the Eastern provinces-“

“I get a few rowdy Gauls and you get the main source of Rome’s income? I think not.”

“It is...say, a purely administrative position,” he said, slyly. “After all, as you say, all revenue is to be shared with the other co-consuls, is it not?”

I thought about it. If Antony were to cheat the Triumvirate again then it would be the perfect excuse to either exile him or wage war.

I nodded. “Agreed.”

“Erm,” said the small voice of Lepidus. “What do I get?”