Wildcard. Rachel Lee

them to prepare my flagship, with sails at the ready.”

      She turned to Antony. “We must go, my love. There is nothing left here to be won. We will fight that man at another time, in another place.”

      Antony seemed poised to refuse, though in the end he gave the orders. “You get away first. If they catch you, Octavian will kill you. I will stay with my men until you are safely away.”

      “No,” she said. “We go together. As we have always gone. Together.”

      “I will permit no other course,” Antony said. “I must see to my men. Arrange for their withdrawal. Many have abandoned me, but I will not abandon those who have stayed by my side. They deserve my loyalty, as they give theirs.”

      Osarseph knew this was not a battle Cleopatra could or would win. Antony was a soldier to his soul, and he would not leave his men leaderless. “Come, my queen. Let us away, and quickly.”

      By the time they boarded her flagship, the captains had finalized the details of the breakout. Octavian’s ships, though greater in number, did not carry sails into battle. The excess weight merely slowed the oared vessels. But Antony and Cleopatra had insisted their captains be ready to raise sail. A freshening afternoon wind would be their deliverance.

      If only for today.