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Octavian's Chalice

by Peter Breakwell

280 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-0803; ISBN 1-4120-2975-9; US$24.00, C$27.75, EUR20.00, £14.00

A Roman tombstone, the fragments of a mysterious chalice...and history is transformed by a Greek slave. This compelling novel portrays the ancient Romans in friendship, love and war.

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about the book      about the author      excerpt      catalogue info

About the Book A remarkable discovery on the island of Cyprus takes the reader on an extraordinary journey into ancient times, where the life of the future emperor of Rome is saved by a Greek slave. Two men: one destined to rule, the other to serve... their unique friendship revealed by a tombstone and the fragments of a mysterious chalice. The year is 44 BC and Italy is in turmoil following the death of Julius Caesar. To claim his inheritance as Caesar's adopted son, Octavian clashes with Marc Antony as each pursue their ruthless quest for leadership of the Roman Empire. Their hatred simmers and civil wars erupt, but it's the heroic deeds of a slave that changes the face of history. Octavian's Chalice is a compelling and authentic portrayal of the ancient Romans in friendship, love and war. LOOK OUT FOR THE NEW BBC/HBO PRODUCTION BASED ON THE PERIOD THIS BOOK COVERS. CLICK THIS LINK FOR MORE INFO. BBC/HBO

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About the Author Peter lived in Cyprus for three years in the early 90's, where he studied the island's history and its many archaeological sites. In 1995 he completed a 450-mile charity walk in aid of a Paphos hospital and wrote a book on his experiences. A Walk with Aphrodite was published in 1998. He has also written several articles for newspapers and magazines in Cyprus and the UK. Now retired, he lives in the English countryside. Octavian's Chalice is his first novel.

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Excerpts

...They passed through the atrium and a flight of stairs led to a room flooded with light. Its centrepiece was a large oak desk, littered with scrolls where Antony had been writing. As they crossed the room a warm breeze drifted through the open doors and shutters, bearing a trace of herbs and baking bread from the kitchens below. Neither man spoke until Spiro served them wine out on the balcony.

When the old slave had left Antony took the offensive. He was frank, and eager to impose his stature on the young upstart. 'So, you waste no time in making trouble,' he began. "Your army - if one can call it that - is mine. Those men you recruited in the south are from my legions!'

'No, Antony... not yours, but Caesar's,' Octavian countered. 'Now they pledge their allegiance to me.'

'You?' Antony sneered. 'You, my dear boy, lest you forget, are no more than a citizen; and as such, act illegally. I fear you have been misled into thinking anything else. Granted you have accumulated a misguided following. What is it... one legion or two? Yet even you should know that a private citizen could never command an army; unless, of course, you aspire to be another Spartacus?' A smile touched his lips. 'But then, we all know what happened to him!'

The icy stare from Octavian never wavered.

'You have no official rank - you're too young to hold office, and with no experience of commanding an army... Well, need I go on? I warn you, Octavian, I want those men returned to Canidius!'

'And what do I get in exchange?'

'I would consider you as a future consul.'

Octavian stood, leaning against the balcony with the morning sun warming his shoulders. 'Consider? How generous! You conveniently forget, I am now Caesar's adopted son. I have claimed his inheritance and whatever his name brings me.'

Antony slammed his empty wine cup down on the table. 'And I am consul. A loyal consul of Rome!' he roared. 'Caesar may have left you his name, but Rome has never been a subject of succession - not even when we had kings.'

'A loyal consul? Then where is your loyalty to the Roman people? Tell me, just what have you done to avenge my father's death?' Not waiting for a reply Octavian resumed, his words spiked with sarcasm. 'You pose as Caesar's friend and most trusted officer... the one whose oratory stirred such glorious remembrance at his funeral. And, of course, it was the noble Marc Antony who roused our people into believing that he would bring Caesar's killers to justice. Oh, yes, you quickly opposed the senators who wanted to reward the perpetrators... and yet, you never condemned them to death yourself. I wonder why?'

Antony was surprised by the young man's boldness. He chose his next words carefully. 'I can only see your lack of respect as ignorance, Octavian. It has not even occurred to you that whatever I said and did was to provide for Caesar's immortality. Your adoptive father displeased the Senate; he seized authority and only my actions prevented him from being declared a tyrant. The concessions I made to Brutus and Cassius helped to appease the Senate. Without me, Caesar would have been dishonoured.'

'Then with equal generosity, I trust you have protected his estate?'

Antony poured himself more wine and drank it, playing with time. 'This wine will ripen the blood in your veins, Octavian. Look at you... you should eat more. You need some flesh on those bones!'

'All I need is the gold coinage you took from Calpernia for safekeeping; it's the legacy my father left for the people of Rome. If more is required then I will ask to borrow from the treasury. In exchange, I can offer my own properties for sale.'

'My dear, Octavian, your informant is not to be trusted. The simple truth is that Caesar left our treasury empty and now his assets are under investigation, including the money I once held for his widow.' Antony smiled broadly, leaning forward in his chair. 'It also seems that by way of your inheritance you are now liable to a number of people in dispute over certain properties.'

Octavian had turned deathly white, his eyes blazing as he moved towards Antony, raising his cup. 'Then what shall we drink to... loyalty to Caesar or the truth? Your sympathy towards Brutus and Cassius for murdering him!'

Marc Antony opened his mouth to speak just as the untouched wine from Octavian's cup drenched his face. The shock took his breath away. He staggered to his feet trying to clear his stinging eyes, but the anger he felt suddenly turned to fits of laughter. When he looked again Octavian had gone.

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Catalogue Information

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