Anyway, you know the drill, I don't own HBO: Rome
Now, I believe there were requests for some more scenes between Brutus and Porcia later on, and I am happy to provide that since they are being reunited in the chapter after this one. Please let me know what you would like to see come out of it. Meanwhile, enjoy Pullo and Vorenus' clash with Porcia.
I swore to myself that I would get this done for you all, my lovely people, and here it is! And it is a nice long chapter, for your pleasure.
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As the crashes of elephant feet stumbled towards the door, Porcia, Scribonia and Sylvia all held their breaths and waited. As soon as the door opened, without a moments hesitation, Porcia kicked the door shut as it opened, slamming the wooden door in the attacker's face. The groan of pain burst out of the man's mouth as he stumbled backwards from the sudden assault. Porcia and Scribonia dashed out from behind the door, while Sylvia huddled to the side in horror. Porcia grabbed a mental dish used to burn candles in. The candle was still lit and the wax still hot. As the bandit stood and took notice of the three ladies, she threw the wax dish at the face of her attacker, and without giving a moment's time to think or look, Porcia and Scribonia dragged the slave to her feet and rushed past the blinded man, rolling on the floor in pain.
The lower floor was a mess with tables turned upside down, plates smashed and crashed on the table, the boiling water on the floor, the grain, and the other food and fuel goods being carried off in twos by several other bandit goons. There were three in sight, but Porcia knew there were more from the sounds of crashing in the back room, searching for valuables no doubt. Scribonia and Sylvia grabbed hold of Porcia, hugging her arms, looking for support as one of the bandits dropped the sack and it spilled out grain rain.
"What are you doing here?" Scribonia asked without thinking, realising straight away that it was a very stupid thing to say, she straight away changed her question, "Why are you here?"
"Who are you women? We're taking back what is rightfully ours," said a filthy and revolting looking man whose idea of cosmetics was to take the sap of trees and use it as a hardener for his hair. Either way, he looked greasy and revolting to a Roman eye which preached cleanness to people. These bandits spoke in Greek, so Porcia understood them enough to reply, "We're now taking control of the house and everything in it, including you."
"We're not slaves to be taken over!" Porcia snarled furiously back in Greek in her airy patrician manner; her well-spoken voice was proof enough for these barbarians that she was at the height of manners and sophistication. She took her slave and friend's hands and went on, "The lady Scribonia and I are free, I am a well-born woman of noble birth, and this other lady is my servant Sylvia; she belongs to me—I admit that we are Roman citizens—but harming us will do you no favours, and you can ask any Roman you've heard of and they will know me and testify for us."
"Romans?" another bandit said; the crashing ending in the other room, "Would that Caesar bastard know your name?"
Porcia gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes as she replied, "Most certainly, Gaius Julius Caesar happens to be my father's greatest enemy."
"Then why would me testify for you?" the ugliest, if it were possible be uglier then the first, said, no teeth in his leering smile.
"Because my cousin happens to be Caesar's most beloved friend who is as a son to him," Porcia replied with an annoyed snap, how she hated to be talked down to especially but these disgusting, dirty, pathetic outlaws who were so pitiable that they turned to picking fight on three defenceless women. It was making her blood boil in furry, "If you have no business other then to steal everything in the house then let us pass, or else explain what you wish to do with us…"
"Wait a minute!" the main bandit said, he pointed to Sylvia and Scribonia, "Who are these again?"
"They are a freewoman and a slave," Porcia replied quickly in Greek, knowing that Scribonia wouldn't understand fully what she said next in case it blew Porcia's plan, "They are meaningless and have local raiders for family. That is why I was here with Quintus Pompey's family. They have links with my father, Marcus Porcius Cato, in Africa with Scipio Salvito. Quintus stole them. I took the slave as my own but the other woman is a freewoman. Surely you will allow these two to go; they are of no use to you and their masters will come looking for you if they find them with you."
She began pushing Scribonia and Sylvia forwards, however the bandit stopped them, sticking his leg in front of Sylvia's path, "Hold on… the free one can go… but we are taking the slave as our property now!"
Porcia was terrified of leaving Scribonia on her own, but thankfully the village wasn't far and these bandits obviously didn't speak Latin. She could tell her what to do from there. Finally, Porcia nodded and whispered in Scribonia's ear: "Run to the village, get word to everyone you can and for Bellona's sake be careful!"
The bandits moved aside and Scribonia dazzled and reluctant to leave her friend alone; rushed forwards towards the door and ran out in the direction she knew the small village was in. After she'd gone, one of the bandits rushed down the stairs screaming, "He's blinded!"
Porcia looked uncaring at the blinded man, and finally turned her head back to the ghouls while her slave hugged herself to her arm. The toothless one turned back to look at Porcia and Sylvia, grinning a black smile, "Tough little bitch, aren't you?"
-
As Caesar and his mighty legions matched into what remained of the fortress that had held what remained of the republic in its wall, there were the remains of a bomb fire or rather a funeral pyre. Caesar knew that it must belong to Metellus Scipio, as he saw the loyal faces of his daughter, Cornelia, the poor widow of Pompey and his son Salvito, not giving his "greetings" to who he blamed this death for. Some of the soldiers bowed their heads to the pyre in respect, praying for the poor man's death. Although this was the end of all wars, these men thought they'd show respect to a man who did the honourable thing—well, men like Vorenus did anyway. Men like Pullo followed Caesar around the back to see the remains of another fire, which did gain Caesar's attention; in front of the old pyre, holding an urn in his hands, sat Young Cato, or Marcus as he was called by his family, mourning over the sight before him.
"Who is that you hold in your hands?"
"Marcus Porcius Cato Uticensis," he said quietly, sorrowfully, "My father."
Caesar cleared his throat and shook his head—he should have seen that coming. He knew Cato wouldn't wait for him to find him, he knew that he would take his life eventually; it was just to be so. It was obvious. He nonetheless bowed his head and whispered mournfully, "Oh, Cato! How I envy your death and took from me the chance to spare your life!" Caesar looked up and sighed, Cato had beaten him and now he would never be superior, he would never hold Cato in his grasp and that made him feel empty in his victory. He then said to no one in particular, "You have won, Cato."
Salvito came forwards then, leaving his sister to mourn, "Caesar…"
Caesar turned, "So what would you have me do with the pair of you, the sons of the greatest traitors in empire?"
"I ask for your mercy, Caesar," Salvito replied, solemn and slightly ashamed, "I have my children and my wife to think of. She has been through so much, only returned to Rome a short while ago… I must think of her."
"You are pardoned," the great general replied, at least he would spare the sons of Cato and Scipio. He turned to Marcus and smiled, "And what about you, Cato? Will you accept my mercy, young man?"
Marcus stood and glared at Caesar, since he came off the wine and onto the porridge of being a soldier he was able to control his rage, which was a better thing for both of them He said: "I have little choice; I could never do as my father did. He was a true Roman, a good man, and I am a worm to his bravery."
Caesar nodded and smiled, "Then you are pardoned," and he leant forward to kiss the young man's cheek. Yes, he had taken spoils but the great Cato was still dead. Yet, Caesar intended to take the son and daughter of him back to Rome as his victory prizes, poor and homeless. Marcus and Salvito led the victor through their house to where Cato's study, have been. The room was full of books, papers and letters, ink stained everything around the table, hard wax from his seal lay on the table, and all the papers drew Caesar in as he looked over the words and tried to take them in. As he did so, he spoke to the two gentlemen.
"Cato, where is you sister?" Caesar said casually, "I would have thought she would be here to bad mouth me and share her opinions on me, being the little spark she is."
Marcus' heart ached for his sister but felt angry that Caesar should take of her so, though it wasn't a cruel notion, he replied: "I don't know where my sister is."
That caught the dictator's attention, "You don't know?"
"No."
"How can you not know?"
"She isn't here, Caesar" Marcus said solemnly, glancing over at Salvito and then back to their enemy, "Scribonia turned up here a few days before the defeat. She told us that Quintus had been causing trouble for some bandits. They had a sort of gang war which led to Quintus fleeing. The bandits took over the house and took Porcia and her woman Sylvia hostage."
Caesar's eye-brows raised; "How long ago was this?"
"My wife travelled very quickly, it has been little over a week," Salvito explained.
"And what do they intend to do to her?"
"We don't know," Marcus replied. He collapsed into a chair and buried his face in his hands, thinking of his dear little sister captured by bandits, all alone with only that stupid slave of hers for company. They should never have left them with that fool Quintus. "I assume they intended to hold her until Quintus gave back what he stole… but we having received a message."
Caesar, who had been looking through the papers on Cato's desk, came across a piece of paper with terrible Greek on it, he read it; "Well… your father did. They threatened that if the traitor Quintus Pompey wasn't handed over, they would be liable to do her harm."
"Oh, Gods," Marcus screamed, "But Quintus has fled! We don't know where he is!"
Caesar nodded at this, "Would the Lady Scribonia remember where these thugs control things?"
Salvito nodded, "She told us, just in case we could help."
Then Caesar found himself smiling, "In that case we will have to move straight away… I am going to steal her back and return her to Rome. The two of you will return with Scribonia and the others and we will follow on once Porcia is retrieved."
Marcus stood and snapped, "Why can't I go? She's my sister!"
Caesar raised his hands smiling, "Now, Cato, be calm! I am sending you back to tell your cousin Brutus what has happened, he was quite concerned for her safety and it will come better from you then I. Meanwhile, we will sort out a rescue mission."
Salvito stared, "And who will you send on this 'rescue' coo you're plotting?"
"Don't worry," Caesar said with a twinkle in his eyes, "I have the perfect soldiers for the task."
-
"What a waste of time!" Pullo complained staring at the pyre of Marcus Porcius Cato once Vorenus had finally joined him from Scipio's side. "I thought we were going to get a victory, return to Rome with these two bastards in tow and hear the cheering crowds, but then they have to go and kill themselves!"
Vorenus rolled his eyes before staring at what remained on the pyre, "You cannot talk to a man of the republic like that."
"Oh, aye, I forgot what a Catonian you are," Pullo replied shaking his head, "Cato was a git, carrying on this war. But then I forgot how you like carrying on wars. We could have gone home after Egypt if it wasn't for him and Scipio."
"That is enough from you! They are every bit each other's equal in Rome for their league of support. Caesar would not condone offensive language towards any of his enemies."
"What, even Cato?"
"Even Cato, even Scipio, even if it was his dearest friend," Vorenus replied, "It is more honourable to say nothing then to bad mouth your enemy. It will look ill with the gods."
Pullo sighed, staring about him at the fallen building and whistling as he did so, "So the civil war is over then?"
"It looks like."
"Think they'll let us go home soon?" Pullo asked keenly, "It's been years since I've seen Eirene…"
Just then, the war continued for Vorenus and Pullo as they were summoned to see Caesar by Caesar's tribune. Now, it appeared to the two soldiers that Caesar was currently not on good terms with the pair, especially after the Pompey incident, and although they had still saved Cleopatra from Ptolemy, the priest and the woman, or whatever the hell he was, no doubt he was still upset about Pompey. Yet, they must have been the only two common soldiers who Caesar was on terms with.
As they entered what had once been Cato's room, they saluted and stood to attention. Vorenus spoke in his usual sombre voice: "Sir, you asked to see us."
Caesar looked up at them with his same strong face, looking graceful with patrician airs and yet it looked 'one of the crowds', and although his face was merciless, he managed to make it merciful at the same time. No one had a face like Caesar's: "I did, I have a task for the pair of you."
"Yes, sir"
"About thirty miles away, there have been gang wars going on, many of them fuelled by Pompey's son Quintus Pompey," Caesar explained, he glanced at Pullo and went on, "You have come face to face with him before. Well, you won't have to deal with him, I am asking you to retrieve a hostage taken by one of the leading gangs roaming that forest. There aren't as many as you think but they have enough influence. All you'll have to do is sneak in, rescue her and sneak out again."
"Yes, sir," Vorenus replied, "Who are we looking for saw?"
Caesar kept quiet for a little while as he wrote down something on some paper, he was copying Scribonia's notes that she had left about where they were. He handed it to Vorenus once he was finished and went on, "Her name is Porcia Catonis, of the Porcii Catonii Salonii, the daughter of the same Marcus Porcius Cato who now lies at the bottom of an urn. She will be with her slave, Sylvia, so when to manage to retrieve her you will have to take the slave also, understand?"
"Yes, sir" both men replied.
"One more thing," Caesar said quickly, "You will not tell her of her father's death, she will have through hard times and I feel that I should tell her of death myself. When you find her, you will treat her with the up most respect; she is a woman of patrician birth, the daughter of a man worshiped as a god here in Utica and Marcus Junius Brutus' cousin… if she has any complaints about either of you, it will not be tolerated. Understand?"
Pullo and Vorenus had to fight the urge to look at each other, "Yes, sir."
"You may go, see my tribune about money," Caesar said, dismissing the pair who hurried away, As they left Caesar knew he made the right choice, after all, had it not been these two men who rescued his nephew Gaius Octavian and retrieved the golden eagle, they found the Roman treasury gold, survived a storm that drowned an army, found Pompey Magnus on a beach and still managed to retrieve Cleopatra from death at the hand of her brother's men. These two were special; the rescue of Cato's daughter would just be another amazing task for them.
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Upon the return of Marcus Porcius Cato, the son of the elder, and Salvito with his wife (and the remains of their fathers) the people also caught news of the kidnap and hostage taking of Cato's daughter, Porcia Catonis. There was talk among the plebeians who came up with sordid and downright disgusting and horrific stories to what became of her, while the patricians knew the more down-to-earth and truthful facts. Although Atia wished that she could believe in what the plebeians said, what Octavia had learnt from an overjoyed Servilia was probably nearer to the truth. Indeed, Servilia was anything but worried about her 'dear unfortunate' niece going missing in the provinces, but what did worry her was the worried reaction the news gave to her son.
Brutus, who was normally one to look on the bright-side or at least make some funny remark to lighten the mood of those worrying, but this time he was just plain scared. His sister Junia Tertia had married Cassius, and Cassius had noticed this change in character. So had Cicero, but he was hardly one to cheer up the strangely solemn young patrician.
It didn't help that everyone was remembering her childhood also… while most of the people outside the family unit didn't know about the hardships of Porcia's childhood, somehow it was all Brutus could think about. He was very guilty about not speaking out against it, but then no one in the family would speak out against it, even Porcia herself had just let it happen. It was because, when she tried to tell Cato, he didn't believe her even though he knew of Servilia's cruelty. Once a fairly handsome man, everyone suspected that it had been Servilia's attacking him time when Brutus was a baby that had scared Cato's face for life. She hated Cato, secretly. She hated Marcus, secretly. She hated Porcia, openly and without shame. Brutus often wondered why his mother had hated the little girl so much, and she never explained her reasons.
"Even if we found her now," Brutus heard Servilia saying to Octavia at one of their 'weaving' meetings, "She would be fallen, spoilt and unclean by now!"
Oh, that poor girl! She still lay awake in his memories… petite, pale, thin and pretty, sweetest little Porcia. It was hard to believe that the young girl, so helpless, who had once hung onto him so tightly, looked up with bleary eyes and cried, so terrified, 'Who will take care of me if you're not here?' and the woman who was strong, intelligent, brave and now gone with the wind, missing in action somewhere out there. Maybe the reason he couldn't see them as the same person was because he saw them as two different people? He saw the child as his cousin but he saw the woman as… someone else.
He wasn't ashamed to admit that he missed all this time since he surrendered and she went on her way. He missed the sound of her intelligent voice, the way she always seemed to know what to say… he missed her mind but also her beauty… it always made him feel calm and happy to look at her; she had a face that needed to be admired and looked at because she was so beautiful. It made your heart brace to think about her—or at least it made his heart brace. He also found that every time he read a book or wrote a letter, the smell of the paper and ink reminded of the house they had been held up in, especially her room which was filled with paper and books. And then there was the strange sweet smell that was in her hair… Every time he thought of all these things, he felt like crying her name, which sounded so wonderful, rolling off the tip of his tongue… Oh, Porcia… Porcia… Porcia…
-
Porcia couldn't remember the last time she actually saw the day light outside the house. Although they were heartless bandits, they were treating her very well, equally to Sylvia, but that didn't bother her. In the weeks she was held hostage by these beastly men she came to see that, although slaves were belongings, they were still people capable of real emotions. Sylvia was very strong, considering that she normally relied on her mistress for strength in hard times. Porcia didn't mind that either, and she was grateful for the company. Several weeks past, she couldn't have told you how many, she past the days talking, reading and sleeping, hoping against hope that one day someone will come across them and save them from these men. They fed her on mouldy bred while they were happy to eat her porridge. Things were tolerable but still Porcia yearned to be rescued, especially after she re-read Zeno's Laws of Stoicism, rules which she knew like the back of her hand… but then there wasn't much to remember about the back of her hand since she had very porcelain skin.
Then, one day all of a sudden, the toothless wonder stormed into her room with his black grin staring. He pointed at her and laughed, "If your family doesn't reply to our demands by tomorrow, you die." Porcia stayed calm, it was the stoic way to remain calm when you stared death in the face and the more painful the death the better, but Sylvia howled into a burst of weeps. The man laughed again, "And you get sold at the local market, my honey!"
So, they spent the night comforting each other. Sylvia had always been with her mistress, ever since she was a baby, she had been there as her duenna. It had been Sylvia's hope that she would be Porcia's duenna until the day that she died, that her mistress would be there, healthy, alive and with her own children, the day that Sylvia died… but now, they were to be parted. And meanwhile, Porcia was ready to accept this end, confident that it would be so… it was too much to hope that a reply or a rescue would occur between then and tomorrow.
The next day, they came up to the room where they had been keeping her and dragged the terrified, screaming and crying Sylvia from her petticoats. They took out short, badly-made knives that suited them very well and appeared to be freshly sharpened, "It's the best we can do for such a pretty lady," the toothless one said, "It seems a shame to be losing such a lovely thing."
"I'm sorry I had to leave you so soon," she said plainly, calm as you like and brave, "What are you all waiting for? Kill me!"
"Inpatient little bitch, aren't you?" he said, raising his knife.
Porcia sat so calmly that the men wondered what was wrong with her for never had they met a woman as unafraid of death as this one. If they thought the sight of the knives would bring her to a weeping wreck they were wrong. Death was what a Roman breathed, they would all meet it one day, and Porcia wasn't going to fight fate. It was all the better, for just as the blade was about to touch her neck, there was a sudden erupt of screams from behind them.
The others at this failed execution took their knives and ran to see what the fuss was. The toothless man only remained, his face fixed on where the commotion was coming from. Once again, not giving a thought to what she was doing, Porcia kicked him hard and painfully in the back. His own scream burst out as he fell and she didn't give a thought to anything. She found Sylvia, no longer handled by the men, and they crept quietly through the house to see what was going on. As they made their way down the crooked stairs, Porcia stopped them both a stared as she saw the most wondrous and disgusting sight:
Two men in fighting kit were murdering every single one of the scoundrels as if they were cats pouncing on mice! Porcia's hopes of freedom may have been coming true, but the sight of these men swimming in the blood of the dead was awful. She had not a clue how many men were holding the house until these two had made a great pile of the bodies and made a red sea of their blood. As soon as the last was killed, the tall, brutish one finished him off with a horrible sword through the throat and collapsed into the blood massacre, breathing heavily.
Finally, they both looked up, and the brutish one stood and point while the red one stared at her. The brutish one stared more intently and in shock then the red one was, for the brutish one wasn't normally confronted with women of such beauty. Suddenly, he walked a bit close and said rather un-gentlemanly, "Please, please, gods, please tell us that you are Porcia Catonis of the Porcii Salonii, daughter of Cato!"
Porcia looked the man up and down, before fluttering her eyes in a delicate patrician manner and nodded, "I am. Who are you?"
The red-haired one saluted and forced the brute to stand to attention. He barked in a more stoic manner as he spoke: "Spear centurion Lucius Vorenus; prefect in the evocati; General Mark Antony, under the command of Gaius Julius Caesar, son of Venus—"
"Imperator of the thirteenth legion, dictator of Rome, Pontifex Maximus, etc," Porcia finished with an equally stoic voice. She took Sylvia's hand and led her down the stairs, stopping at the bottom where the bloodbath was. She pointed to the other, "And he is?"
"Titus Pullo, legionary of the 13th" the brutish one said, he then pointed to Vorenus and laughed, "Under his command, who is under Mark Antony, who is under Julius Caesar."
Porcia looked back to Vorenus, "Has he no respect for authority?"
"Forgive him, ma'am" Vorenus replied sternly, "He is not used to the company of nobility."
"And you are, are you?" she replied, somewhat more sarcastically then she should have.
"I served Antony back in Rome, ma'am" he said, still emotionless.
Porcia breathed out laughter and shook her head, "Yes? Well he's not really nobility; he's a plebeian of high rank because his mother married beneath her. If Antony is your experience of upper class, then I fancy you would be more vulgar and beastly then he," she then looked to Pullo and sighed, "Do you always let your friend speak for you?"
Pullo laughed, "Well, you know how it is, ma'am… he knows all the big words, like."
Porcia then laughed genuinely and stepped, pretty coolly, over the body that was blocking the stairs and walked very calmly over the red salt sea, "Thank you to both of you for helping my slave and I. You came in the nick of time; the bandits were just about the take my life. I am grateful to you even if you are of the 13th... what I do wonder is that how Caesar could have faith in only two men to kill an army of bandits and rescue two women condemned to die?"
"No one can question the judgement of Caesar, ma'am," Pullo replied quickly.
She nodded, "That was very well-said, and one would think your friend would have said that. You are much smarter then you look… Titus Pullo, was it?"
"Yes, ma'am," Pullo replied with a smile.
"And Lucius Vorenus"
Vorenus saluted and again and Porcia nodded. She would remember these two, she was sure of it. "We best get going," he said with a firm voice. Leading the three of them outside, Vorenus straight away went to sort his horse while Pullo breathed in the fresh air, as both Porcia and Sylvia were caught in the glare of the grey light sky. It had been weeks since they had last set eyes on it. She had wondered if she'd ever be allowed to walk out again. "If we keep at pace," Vorenus said as he sorted it all out, "We should be reunited with the rest of the legion in two days, once there; Caesar will be able to make arrangements to send you to your family."
Porcia had taken note at that… why had Caesar sent men to retrieve her? How would he know she was missing? Before she could ask him, Pullo spoke, pointing to the walls of the house. All over it were names and names and names of men, women and children. He turned to Porcia and pointed, "What's all this then?"
"I believe that the people who lived in the house originally lived here for generations, those who stayed here wrote their names on the walls," Porcia explained, walking towards the wall herself and smiling, "Scribonia, Sylvia and I put our names on here."
"I'll write mine and Vorenus' name then," Pullo pulled out a small knife and walked towards the wall to do likewise. Vorenus rolled his eyes, he called that they had to hurry but yet, Pullo ignored him and tried to write out his name. When he was finished he looked at it, taking a death breath and looked at Porcia, "There, all done!"
She looked at the writing and laughed. It read "T. PVLEIO" and "L. VARINVS" she looked at Pullo and shook her head. She walked back over to Vorenus who lifted her onto his horse back. Pullo turned back and lifted Sylvia onto his horse back before climbing on himself. She held on to Vorenus tight while she saw her slave looking a bit uneasy being close to too. Porcia knew straight off that Vorenus was a gentleman, or as gentlemanly as you could get when you are a sombre, inexperienced with women and stone wall stoic. That was probably why Porcia felt better riding with him. Not that Pullo didn't have his charms… she was sure to any drunken whore in a brothel he'd make a lovely partner. He had more character then most men. Trouble was that Porcia was used to the clean-cut and gentlemanly patrician men. Meeting plebeians was like a whole new experience for her. She wasn't sure as yet that it was an experience she'd like to re-live.
That night they set up camp, and this was where Porcia became too scared to sleep. She announced straight away, "I will not sleep; these forests are too dangerous to fall asleep in."
Vorenus and Pullo weren't going to argue with a haughty, patrician bitch, as Quintus would have called her, because they were liable to throw tantrums. They may have been men but she was a higher born woman; even though it wasn't in Porcia's nature to throw a tantrum. She decided to make some porridge for them out of the rashes that they had, hoping they'd like it. As she watched the two of them she finally saw their different backgrounds. Vorenus was obviously educated, a sort of peasant nobility even where as Pullo seemed like a country boy, someone who was uneducated. She could understand that Pullo was not as well educated as Vorenus was, and part of her felt it was her duty to show this freedman how it should be written. Every Roman should know how to spell their name.
"Pullo, do you know how to write?" Porcia asked suddenly.
"I know the alphabet" he said, proudly.
"Can you write anything, though?" she queried, "Like a letter or your name?"
Pullo blushed a little and shook his name, "You guessed then, did you? No I can't write a letter no one ever taught me out to write. My mother… worked in the countryside… both my parents died when I was little. I can't remember them much. Any road, no one ever taught me how to write properly. I taught myself how to count cause you need that in the army, alphabet too."
Porcia nodded. She was feeling guilty at how stuck-up she had been earlier, looking down on them. So she smiled and said, "Would you like me to teach you how to spell your name? You can get by without letters, but you must be taught how to spell your name."
His eyes brightened, and behind them Vorenus caught ear of this and gasped in surprise. Pullo nodded, "That would be very nice of you, ma'am… very nice indeed."
She picked up a long stick and pulled Pullo away from the wall. She began to write out her own name in the dust, it its entirety: "This is my name. P-O-R-C-I-A; Porcia, and I am of the Catonian branch, so I am; C-A-T-O-N-I-S; Catonis, and I am descended from Cato the Censor's second wife so I am; S-A-L-O-N-I-A; Salonia. Porcia Catonis Salonia. Do you understand?" she said pointing to what she had written. Pullo nodded. She then began to write out Pullo's name in entirely, "This is your name and how it is spelt; T-I-T-V-S; Titus, P-V-L-L-O; Pullo. Titus Pullo, do you see?"
Behind then Vorenus shook his head while Pullo, not at all embarrassed by this young woman teaching him to spell his name, he nodded in interest. She handed him the stick and asked him to write it himself. He did so, still with some difficulty but he did it. Porcia smiled, "Do you think you will be able to remember that?"
"I will," Pullo replied with a thrilled laugh, he wrote his name out over and over until the entire dirt around them was covered in TITVS PVLLO everywhere, "Thank you for teaching me this, ma'am."
Porcia nodded, "You're welcome." She glanced over at Vorenus who was watching them now. She shook her head and smiled, "He's very uptight, isn't he? He reminds me of my cousin Brutus, he appears so tragically old fashioned."
"He's alright him, his old ways do him credit," Pullo replied with a cheerful smile.
"So he's always like that?" Porcia returned the smile, "I'm very old fashioned myself. It is the way my father brought me up…" she stopped, noticing Pullo and Vorenus staring in different directions now. She knew something was wrong but there was a nagging pain in her heart that told her not to ask. She just went on, "Although I have to say, my cousin is much more cheerful then Lucius."
She leant forwards and wrote out Vorenus' name: "Here we are, Lucius Vorenus," she said pointing to the name she'd written: 'LVCIVS VORENVS'." Pullo laughed and copied it with his stick, over the tons of Titus Pullos. Porcia smiled and glanced back over to him, "Does he have a family?"
"Yes, ma'am, wife, two daughters and a… grandson…" he added quickly, thinking of Evander again and that night down in the sewers with Octavian, when they found out about Niobe… well, there was no point in letting a sensitive patrician girl know anymore about Vorenus' family.
Porcia didn't notice the change in tone anyway, "And you Pullo?"
"Nah, like I said, my parents are dead… I live where I want and eat what I like," he replied, although a sudden thought of Eirene came into his mind, though once again Porcia did not notice. He nodded, "I know who your family is."
"Pullo," Vorenus suddenly erupted, "You shouldn't talk to a lady like that."
"I don't mind," Porcia replied plainly, "Here in the middle of the forest with rags as my clothes and nothing on my feet, I don't have time to give myself such airs. Although Vorenus, I must say I admire your respect for the nobility. I would have thought at plebeian such as you would have nothing but hate for me."
Vorenus didn't know how to answer: "I believe in the divinity of the republic, ma'am."
"He's a Catonian" Pullo blurted.
Porcia turned her head so quickly that she hurt her neck, but she ignored it, "Are you?" she said with cheer, when Vorenus nodded and Porcia smiled, "So you really do believe in the old fashioned republic, no wonder you remind me so much of my father and my cousin Brutus. I must say that it is nice to someone with respect for the good old Roman ideals," she then suddenly turned to the porridge bowl and mixed it, "Do either of you want any more?"
"I will!" Pullo said quickly,
"Only if you wish it so ma'am," Vorenus said, confused about what to say.
Porcia laughed, "Now for goodness sake, Lucius. You need not stand on ceremony. Save your politeness for when you're back in Rome, out here, I cannot be bothered to make you all starve just for the sake of not looking greedy. If you're hungry, just take some more," she said handing them both their bowls. She quietly while the tried to eat as quietly as they could, she looked to Vorenus, "Is it alright?"
His eyes looked up and he nodded quickly. There was something odd about the say she had said that, it reminded him so much of Niobe. She had very similar habits that it made him remember his family straight away and how they must be doing at home. Little Lucius would be quite big now, and other things too. He finally spoke, "Delicious, ma'am, thank you."
Porcia gave a very Niobe-ish smile and nod before turning to her slave Sylvia and began talking about something Pullo and Vorenus didn't understand. Both of them had noticed something about Porcia, not just that she was like Niobe in certain ways, but she was different from most women. Pullo thought she was like Eirene, not in character but in the way that looking at her made you feel calm and relaxed; he kept thinking 'she is a queen amongst men'. She was beautiful, intelligent and fine… it made ones teeth hurt to look at her. Her clothes maybe torn, her hair may be a mess, his face may be dirty… but she was still every inch a lady, even inch a patrician. She was the best of the lot of them. A queen amongst men.
"I not a real patrician, you know," Porcia said suddenly after a while, not looking at either of them. "My great-great-grandfather, Cato the Censor, was an Italian, a plebeian, a farmer and a soldier. My great-great-grandmother Salonia was a freedwoman, she was born a slave. My family had to work their bones to the brim in order to get where they are today. I suppose my only claim to being a real patrician is through my grandmother, Livia Drusa, and even then her blood is not as blue as some. I admit it, I have more plebeian blood then patrician but I am not ashamed of it. I don't see why so many blue-blooded patricians are… It's rather silly, now that I sit down to think about it."
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The sun was brightly beaming down the next day and the sky was clear blue, and treading through the forest on horse back, were Vorenus and Pullo with the people the rescued. Today, however, it was Sylvia on horse back with Vorenus and Porcia was on horse back with Pullo. They were also riding on slightly ahead, not because he wanted to go on ahead but because Vorenus had sent him ahead—Pullo was singing. It wasn't even a song, just his name: "T-I-T-V-S Titus, Pullo P-V-L-L-O; Titus Pullo" over and over again.
Porcia shook her head, "Pullo, don't you know any other songs?"
"Yes."
"Can't you sing one of them?"
"I could but…"
"But what, Pullo?"
He cleared his throat and smiled, "Well, my songs are hardly fitting for a lady's ears."
"Charming"
"You don't like my name song then?"
"It's not that I don't like it," she replied, "It's just that it's annoying."
"I'll stop then, ma'am" Pullo said shutting up straight away.
"Listen," Porcia began, speaking up enough to Vorenus could hear also, "I hope you don't think me an awfully haughty woman anymore. I know I spoke down to you when we first met but I want you to know that I am grateful to both of you. You did rescue me." Just as he did Vorenus came hurrying up to him, Sylvia holding on to him tightly.
Pullo nodded, "Lucius Vorenus, sir, what is it?"
"It is not far now, if you hurry we will be with the 13th soon," Vorenus explained, he looked to Porcia and nodded, "Once there Caesar will be able to help you return to Rome, ma'am."
Porcia liked that they still treated her as a superior, but she hated the way they were constantly calling her ma'am, she felt it made her sound like an old woman. She just nodded and smiled. It was odd but she had never looked on plebeians before with more respect. Oh, maybe Vorenus and Pullo weren't gentlemen through and through, but they were true to themselves and had hearts of gold. No doubt they were polite under order of Caesar, trying to look good, but she could tell these two were special. At the bottom of her heart, she had a feeling that they would be going long after she was ashes. They had powerful gods on their side. Porcia didn't. Still, thousands of years from now... which of the three would be the better known.
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The next chapter is going on very soon. Porcia will return to the camp of Caesar and find out about her father... but how will she cope with the grief and where will she go now her family is ruined? Also, what are Pullo and Vorenus going to take away from their meeting Porcia? Find out next chapter, which will one day come up.