Cassius looks at him from across the tent, his eyes dark, amused. "Besides yourself?"
Brutus laughs, leans back against his fur-lined couch, warm in the Macedonian sun. "I'm a purveyor of melodramatic piffle. He has real talent - and a clever tongue besides."
"I wonder how he'll tell our story," Cassius glances to the door, distracted.
"It seems to be lacking an ending." Brutus smiles at his own witticism and closes his eyes. They flutter open again at the sound of hoofbeats, heavy on the ground.
The messenger who comes into the tent is caked with the dust of the road, his limbs bowed with exhaustion, but his eyes are bright. "From Cicero," he says, his breaths coming in shuddering gasps. "Of the utmost importance."
Brutus rises to his feet, takes the proffered scroll. It's feather light but curiously heavy in his hand. "Perhaps this is our ending," he says, but for good or for ill he does not know.
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Date: 2007-04-28 05:10 pm (UTC)Cassius looks at him from across the tent, his eyes dark, amused. "Besides yourself?"
Brutus laughs, leans back against his fur-lined couch, warm in the Macedonian sun. "I'm a purveyor of melodramatic piffle. He has real talent - and a clever tongue besides."
"I wonder how he'll tell our story," Cassius glances to the door, distracted.
"It seems to be lacking an ending." Brutus smiles at his own witticism and closes his eyes. They flutter open again at the sound of hoofbeats, heavy on the ground.
The messenger who comes into the tent is caked with the dust of the road, his limbs bowed with exhaustion, but his eyes are bright. "From Cicero," he says, his breaths coming in shuddering gasps. "Of the utmost importance."
Brutus rises to his feet, takes the proffered scroll. It's feather light but curiously heavy in his hand. "Perhaps this is our ending," he says, but for good or for ill he does not know.