To summarise for you all: Porcia's brother Marcus has a feeling that Caesar has hired Erastes Fulmen for unsavoury purposes; Vorenus and Pullo have made enemies with Fulmen for the last time it seems, and on a lighter note Porcia and Brutus have finally got it on. However all cannot be perfect because this is Rome. Now, Porcia tries to save both Pullo and Octavia from their mistakes, while the former is willing for any help she has to offer, the latter throws the advice back in her face. In order to help Pullo, Porcia must ally with the enemy.
PS: I have been keeping my cousins with their GCSEs; that's why I haven't posted before now. I had no time to write the chapter. University is hard. Oh well, at least I don't have to sleep on campus. Enjoy the chapter, truly. With the series coming to my country soon, again, I hope it'll attract more of an audience since its dead in the US. Please don't stop reviewing; I love to hear how you guys are doing. Most of you have been reviewing for ages now.
Twenty-two pages… this is my personal best! The longest chapter of them all.
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Porcia kept opening and closing her eyes, wondering whether she was asleep or awake. Wondering whether it was the morning, afternoon, or the first sights of a midsummer evening or navy blue night. It was obviously the afternoon; the harsh sun was bleaching the darkness white. The windows were closed and only a glowing pattern could be seen spreading across the floor. Her half open eyes caught sight of them. She hated the bright light of daytime; it made her feel guilty about lying in bed. She watched the dust as it danced towards the early afternoon sun.
She knew she should get up…but it was just so warm! And peaceful and comfortable—the warmth she felt was almost enough to make her drift away again, to close her eyes and hopefully not open again until the evening. But the guilt stopped her; she turned her head away from the glowing patterns and dancing dust and faced her guilt. She knew they hadn't done anything wrong; she was still pure and he was innocent of any crime a judge might put against him with her.
She tried to remember what she had been doing—she knew they had been talking. She remembered laughing, a lot. She remembered a few other things… but what had she been doing before she was distracted by the light patterns? She shifted her legs and knocked something off the bed. It fell to the ground with the sound of a cluster of paper. It gained the attention of both of them. They sat up with a start.
"So that's what it was!" Porcia said, remembering
"What was what?" Brutus asked, looking at the fallen scroll, wondering what she was talking about.
"I couldn't remember what we were doing," she explained leaning over to pick it up and noticing the other books shattered about. "I was half asleep and couldn't tell dream from reality."
"You should have asked me" he replied, sitting back again. "Nothing more real than me; we've only been silent for ten minutes."
"Was it only ten?"
"Yes"
"Seemed much longer…" she said, only half conscious. Brutus nodded as he folded his arms and thought of what to say in reply. It really was one of those days where you couldn't be bothered to get up, or move. The only thought was to sit around and do nothing. In the end he said nothing and sat in silence, trying to focus his mind. All of a sudden, Porcia sprang into action, knocking a few more scrolls to the ground. "Get up, get up. Hurry now!"
"Huh?" he mustered as she grabbed hold of his hands and pulled him to sit up; it was almost child-like the way she dragged him. "You're lively all of a sudden!"
"I said get up!" she ordered girlishly. "Quickly!"
The moment she let go of him he fell backwards, purposely, playing at her game. She attempted to pull him up again but he slumped backwards again absurdly.
"Are you twelve?" Porcia asked, scowling.
"I hope not," he teased, smiling. "I'd have to go through puberty again."
Porcia smiled, shaking her head: "Of course, I forgot how immature you can be."
"Oh, yes" he replied, "and you're very mature, no doubt."
"I didn't say that" she said, attempting to pull him up but failing again, this time taking her with him. Determined not to judge herself by her own virtue, she quickly pulled herself off him and to the side of him before going on. "But I do think logically…"
"Do you?"
"Yes" she replied stubbornly; her scowl faded when he smiled and her heart melted. "Stop doing that!"
"Stop what?"
"Teasing me with that nonchalant look on your face… and stop smiling… what do you find so funny?" she replied, frustrated, not with him but the mood that was setting in. It was very odd.
"I'm not laugh at you" he assumed her, placing his hand affectionately on hers. "I'm just, I don't know, feeling strange. I find it hard to believe that I'm feeling the way I do now."
He then stopped and moved his hand to her face, stroking it affectionately. It made Porcia's skin shiver with delight again. She couldn't believe how much she loved him; it was like a great power had swallowed her hold. She ended up smiling, placing her hand on his, and closing her eyes so she could feel the warmth.
"Now, why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?"
"Because I don't want anyone seeing us like that" she replied. "I don't want them getting the wrong idea."
"What idea would that be?" he asked with a smile.
"You know exactly what idea I mean" she replied, putting him back up again. This time he stayed up and they stared each other for a while. Porcia raised her eyes-brows and shook her head, clueless. "What?"
"What's wrong with that idea?" he asked. "Is it an insulting thought for you to conceive?"
"No" she quickly replied. In fact, there had been many times during these past few months where she felt that if given the chance she would have given in to the 'idea' for him, but because of their distance, she had never been faced with the choice. Now she was, and she felt guilty. Not from the lust but because of a certain someone. "It's nothing to do with us… it's just, well, Claudia."
"What about Claudia?"
"She's your wife…"
"Is she really?" Brutus replied sarcastically, but cheerfully. "I was wondering what she'd been doing in my house for nine years."
Porcia couldn't help laughing, "Oh, ye gods, Brutus! Be serious about this; you've been married to her for nearly ten years. I mean, she doesn't know about how you feel about me, or I about you…"
"What's your point, Porcia?" he asked, becoming serious again. "Surely you aren't suggesting that Claudia will be upset. Neither us of love one another, we never have. I don't think I've ever loved anyone truly; until now, of course."
"Really?" was all she could manage, wide eyes looking, when she went back to the point. "I just don't want to be the woman who made the daughter of Appius Claudius look like a fool. I am Cato's daughter, after all. Father would be appalled if he were still here. And besides, there isn't just Claudia… there is your mother too! And she hates me enough for Claudia and herself. She likes Claudia…"
"Only because she can walk all over Claudia" Brutus scoffed.
"That is neither here nor there; the point is that your mother wouldn't approve."
"I pull a hair for what my mother thinks" he protested.
Now it was Porcia's turn to scoff: "Ha! I'm sure you would; pulling a hair can be very painful."
"With the added risk of going bald" Brutus added, "If you pull enough hairs."
"True; the point is that I don't want to get you in trouble."
"Maybe we should make it so we can't get in trouble" he replied. He sat up properly next to her and folded his arms. Porcia looked at him, wondering what he meant. In a way, she was quite childlike and naïve even though she was in the body of a woman and even though she was mature and held strength that even many adults lack. It almost distracted him from his words as he decided to explain: "What if I were to…"
At that moment, Sylvia burst into the room, calling for Porcia. "Ma'am, ma'am, someone is here to see you. He says it's important!"
Porcia nearly leapt out of her skin at this sudden invader of her privacy, even if it was Sylvia. She scowled, "In future do not storm into my room like that! You scared the furies out of me!"
Sylvia looked troubled, "S-sorry, ma'am" she then looked to Brutus, who just stared at her. Although she was clearly surprised she said nothing. "I won't do it again…"
"Forget it" Porcia said, feeling guilty. She didn't like yelling at Sylvia even if she was a slave; she had been a good companion to her, and a good friend. "What does this man want? Who is he?"
"It's that man who helped us in Africa" she replied, gathering herself, "the very brutish one."
"You mean Pullo?" she replied instinctively. Sylvia nodded.
Porcia naturally wondered why Titus Pullo had asked to see her so urgently. If he needed help, surely he would go to someone else long before he came to her. He was a good man, even if he was vulgar, and liked to rely on his own strength. For that reason, Porcia could tell that Pullo must really need her assistance. The question was; what? Sylvia had said very little on the purpose of the man's visit.
Still, she would know soon enough.
Out in the courtyard stood the strong and powerful Pullo, pleased to see the girl he had saved from death. She was just as he remembered her; long auburn hair, amber-grey eyes and pale complexion. He couldn't help noticing that her hair was tangled and un-brushed—it was quite early in the afternoon for a patrician lady in the warm months who normally relaxed around this time, talking to friends. But even Pullo was sure that the Lady Porcia had no real friends amongst her class, who probably made small talk and bitchy comments, things he was sure Porcia hated.
He smiled and bowed his head. Porcia made the smile that Pullo imagined was how Eirene would if she smiled more. "Lady, I am sorry to disturb you at this time…"
"At what time?" she asked
"The siesta," Pullo explained, babbling. "Only the young master, that's Master Octavian, says his mother and sister normally retire for a few hours. Good manners apparently for women to do that, and talk and like."
"Oh" Porcia replied, understanding. "No, I wasn't resting, I was… well, I wasn't resting exactly… I was… reading. Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Your hair is…" Pullo pointed, but then he heard Vorenus' voice haunting his mind with a stern 'Pullo', and he stopped, "Really nice."
"What's wrong with my hair?" Porcia touched her messy locks, realising it was tangled. She felt embarrassed, touching her cheeks which began to burn with warmth. "I'm sorry… I didn't realise…"
"No, no… it's alright" Pullo assured her, "Suits you."
Porcia bleeped a small laugh, "Thank you, Pullo. But really I was just, well, moving things around and I must have over worked myself and…" she stopped, wondering why she was explaining herself to him. She folded her arms and smiled, "What's wrong, Pullo?"
The cheerful face turned serious and worried. Pullo scratched the back of his head, wondering how to explain his problems. Porcia was on tenterhooks, rather flattering on Pullo's part. He finally started, "Well, you see, err… have you heard of Erastes Fulmen?"
"Erastes Fulmen?" Porcia repeated, running the name through her head. "I think I have heard the name before. Wait, yes, I remember now! He is in charge of the grain supply as it comes into Rome at the docks, isn't he?"
"Yeah"
"Yes, that's right" Porcia replied, nodding, and for some reason trying to picture him. She saw him as a very oily sort of man; short, horribly fashioned hair that was wet with sweat of sitting around in the pit-holes of the lower Aventine. He no doubt had a graved voice too. She looked up, snapping herself out of her daze: "What about him?"
"Yeah, well" Pullo went on, awkwardly, "a couple of Erastes' boys were beating this lad—probably no older than you. He didn't look like much though, clearly homeless or living on the top of the insula, you know?"
"I do" Porcia replied, imagining it. "My great-great-grandfather's family started out there when they first came to Rome. They didn't live at the top but even mid-ways they lived in awful conditions" she sympathised. "Well, what about this boy?"
"Well, it's like this ma'am, err… Erastes' boys were getting ready to take off his nose…"
"Ouch!" Porcia hissed, biting her bottom lip, once again picturing the scene.
"I know," he said, stopping to smile—quite out of place—before going on, "and Vorenus wasn't having it, so he stopped them."
"Very commendable" she said, nodding in approval. "You have to look out for one another in this world. I have always admired the way plebeians manage to stay loyal to each other."
Pullo brightened up, feeling complimented and almost forgetting his purpose; "Really?"
"Yes" Porcia replied, enjoying the conversation as it invited her to speak her mind. "Plebeians all seem to look out for one another and do their best by each other, more than my social class. Patricians are like vouchers picking at the flesh of a dead stag." She paused and went back to the point: "So what happened then?"
"When what then?"
"When Vorenus told these criminal henchmen to seize harassing the young gentleman?"
"Oh!" it dawned on Pullo again. It was amazing; in one moment she had cast away all the shadows in the mind. A queen amongst men, truly she was. He resumed the story:
"Well, he went forward, right, to tell these bastards to on their way, this big nose bad boy tried it on, like, with Vorenus. He spat on him and started insulting Niobe, so Vorenus gave him a whack."
"Good for him"
"I'm glad you think so, but that bully boy cunt went crying to Erastes Fulmen and now…" Pullo paused, wondering how to put it.
He didn't have to put it any way; Porcia guessed. Naïve, cute little Cato's daughter she was but she knew what these gangs got up to. Her cousin used to hire them for his own personal reasons, so she had a pretty good idea on how the crooks and murderers function. "He's going to 'try it on'?"
Pullo couldn't help but smile at her, the way she put it seemed so serious and yet so light that he had to smile. "That's right" he said, looking at her smiling face. "I'm having a bad influence on you."
"Not at all" Porcia said as if she were a child being taunted by her brother. "Remember, I am three quarters plebeian myself, and you know what? I'm proud of it! Besides, I prefer being self-righteous to other patricians and strangers; there is no point in pretending to be better than you or any other plebeian—the status quo takes care of all that formality rubbish!"
Pullo laughed and sighed, wondering why she was so nice to him; he supposed that patrician women just found him interesting. The young master's mother certainly did; she hired him to tutor her son. "Any road, I thought I'd come and ask your advice."
Porcia was confused; she knew nothing of gang culture in Rome, only that of the bandits who held her prisoner. "What sort of advice Pullo?"
"Well… what would you do if it were you?"
"This wouldn't happen to me, Pullo" she replied with a smirk. "This sort of thing could only happen to you pair. I lead a very normal life."
"If your life is normal I'd hate to be a patrician with an eventful life."
"Better to be a plebeian with a boring life, it seems. Well, I'm not sure what to tell you, Pullo" Porcia said, finally choosing to put her brain into action. "In fact, I'm not sure if advice is what you need. You need a blessing. You need help…" she then paused. "If I can do anything, I will. I owe you so much; I owe my life to you…"
"You overate what we actually did…"
"But I am still grateful" Porcia said sternly, as if she were ordering Pullo accept a reward he did not want. "To not help you would be wrong. I will try my best. In the meantime, you would prepare for a fight. Get anything you can, get ready to fight them off; you did it before and I'm sure you can do it again. I've never seen a man with as much spark as you."
Pullo couldn't help but smile. He never thought he be complimented by such a lady. Porcia was probably the most ladylike woman he knew, even if he didn't know a lot of ladies. "Erastes Fulmen is very dangerous. I think it might take more than that."
"When is this 'brawl' scheduled to take place?"
He loved how she used all the big words; it was true that Porcia threaded words and sentences better than she did a tunic: "Next market day."
Porcia nearly cursed, but stopped herself; "Well… in that case, I'll do what I can. I can't promise anything, though. But I'll have to think about this…" It then hit her, out of the blue for no reason whatsoever. "I'll have to call in a few favours. But just in case it doesn't work, get ready for a fight. Get swords, get back-ups; in fact get anything you can to make it easier for you."
She turned to walk back into the house, leaving Pullo standing in wonder. He called out to her: "What's your plan?"
Alarmed by Pullo's sudden holler she jumped as she looked back, "I'm not sure yet... but you'll know when you see it. If you see it, that is."
As she re-entered the house, trying to think of how she could do it. Next market day would be in two days; so she had forty-eight hours to think of something to help her friend or else there would be a bloody massacre on the Aventine. She buried her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes, trying to think. Nothing came to mind. She needed inspiration. Porcia turned to return to her room, not to sort out books like she should, when she noticed Octavia leaving the house. She didn't say anything, but it made her think of someone who could help—Caesar!
But for her to talk to Caesar would be to speak to the enemy; he made Porcia's blood boil. The most irritable man she'd ever met with his smooth voice that sounded so hypocritical and a matter of fact—always able to twist the things she said and make her feel small. She hated him! Him and his stupid tone of voice; it annoyed her so much sometimes she wanted to take a knife and slit his throat just to shut him up, never mind what heart break he had caused her and the republic.
But in times such as these, when you owe debts to others, Porcia knew you had to face up to your enemy, and his nonchalant smile. Of course, she knew that she had to be tactful about it. If anything, she had to go to Caesar's house and make it look as if she was not asking a favour off him. Straight away, she realised that the one way to get to Caesar was through Calpurnia.
Calpurnia was supposed to be the most dignified woman in Rome, a type of statue to be more precise, and with a genuinely good nature. There had been many stories about Calpurnia among the plebeians, centred on the fact that her husband strayed like a tom cat on the prowl, so now her apartments were swamped with cats to fill the lonely place in her heart. In real life, Aunt Porcia had informed her niece that the Lady Calpurnia was deathly allergic to cats. There was a cat in the house, but it caught mice; that was as far as it went. Porcia was glad—she'd had bad experiences with cats—when she was little her stepmother's cat bit her and scratched her.
Without stopping to think, she found her discarded veil and rushed off towards the door. Sylvia, who as always, shuffled along beside her; she didn't want to bring up the subject of what she had been doing before Pullo had called and decided not to, though she was sure Porcia would kick herself for her actions later.
-
Octavia returned home, wondering what to make of her new information from Servilia—that woman so desperately wanted to destroy Caesar. Even though she felt a strange loyalty towards her uncle and her mother, if what her mother had done was true. As if by magic, Atia was sitting near the garden, chewing merrily like a cow on fruit.
"Mother" she began, quietly.
Atia brushed her hair back and wore her normal cheerful smile to greet her daughter. There was always something annoying about the way Atia spoke. Even when she was angry, she didn't sound angry. She could read an elegy and still sound as if she was telling a joke. Octavia thought it interesting how voices all sounded different—Atia's voice sounded like a good-humoured woman; Servilia's was icy but had a motherly tone to it. Junia Tertia sounded mousey, Calpurnia sounded like a shrew, and Porcia sounded serious but not serious enough for a woman of her personality. There was a lot to voices, a lot more than Octavia realised.
"Oh, Octavia my honey" her mother replied cheerfully. "How was your visit to Servilia? I hope the boring old trout doesn't cause you too much trouble."
Octavia just shrugged. She could barely think about either Servilia or her mother at this moment. She didn't know which one to believe—either way, which ever one is telling truth she was about to lose one of them forever. "Mother…" she began.
"How is everyone else in that house?" Atia said, ignoring Octavia's silent voice. "I was hoping you could clue me in on what's going on, only little birdies tell me that Porcia has been walking around the house like a nightmare for over a week now."
She hadn't noticed this, while visiting Servilia she rarely ever noticed anyone else who lived in the house—Brutus and Porcia being the only ones. On occasion she had seen Porcia walk off in what Atia would call 'a hump' whenever Brutus came into the room… maybe that was why. "I can't say I noticed; Porcia stays out of Servilia's way so she wouldn't come near me."
"You should try being her friend" Atia suggested suddenly, her one-thousandth smile that day. "You'd probably find her more interesting than boring Servilia and her dull weaving."
"I like weaving with Servilia" Octavia said quietly, thinking of what Servilia had told her about Atia's actions; feeling a shiver of furry rise up her spine.
"Ha!" Atia exclaimed before spilling out the stone of a fruit she had been eating. Octavia hated it when she did that. At least it hadn't hit a slave; even then all Octavia could think was how disgusting it was. "I just thought you'd get on more with Porcia; I hear she's a little grump as well. And she's a frump too."
Octavia struck a look at her mother before replying, quietly: "She can afford to be a frump; she's very beautiful."
"I'll take your word for that, my dove" her mother replied, putting another small fruit in her mouth. Again, she chewed it happily. "I've hardly seen her but I know what you mean—she is quite nice in a frumpy, stoic, skinny sort of way."
"Mother, I need to ask you something…"
"I hear that she's quite mouthy too—Uncle Gaius said she's already given him an earful. I've heard a couple of rumours saying that the Boni want Brutus to marry her. They say Cassius has his heart set on it," Atia went on, ignoring her again.
"Really…" Octavia said, annoyed at her mother ignoring her. She was beginning to lose her patience. "Mother, I need to talk to you. Will you just listen?"
Atia stared at her daughter more a moment before smiling again. "Yes, of course, my love. What is it?" She hunched herself up like a child and looked at Octavia, waiting for the words. It dawned on Octavia then that she just couldn't say that to her mother straight. She had to remind her of the subject, see how she reacted. She took a deep breath and spoke. "Lately I've been thinking about Glabius…" she saw Atia loosen a bit, "…and his death."
Her mother showed signs of guilt, but not too much; to the naked eye no one would have noticed but to everyone know knew her she was like a wolf in sheep skins. Guilt was not a feeling Atia bothered to worry herself with. Guilt was a horrible feeling and Atia didn't like thinking of the horrible—it made her feel icky.
Atia felt herself inch at the back of her neck. She relieved herself of it bother before turning to the one in front of her. "Oh, really?" she said, trying to sound casual "Why is that, my poppet?"
Octavia scowled, "I think about him all the time. He was murdered, brutally, for no reason whatsoever."
"He was killed, darling. Not murdered."
"What's the difference?"
"A murder is when you plot to kill someone" Atia stated, feeling as if she was trying to dig out of a hole only to find the hole was getting deeper. "Glabius was just killed by some scum on the street."
"How do you know it was murder?" she queried.
Atia's mouth opened and shut before she very quickly but firmly said: "I don't; but if it was murder we would have found them by now…" she spat out the stone of another fruit and picked up her cup of wine to take a sip. "You can't keep a thing like this quiet."
Octavia's eyes lowered and her brow nearly scowled before she sat back and helped herself to a peach which lay alone in the fruit bowl. It was true that voices had many tones, but Octavia's was the least remarkable, and she knew it.
"No" she agreed neutrally. "You certainly can not."
-
When Calpurnia was told that Porcia Catonis, the daughter of haughty old Cato had come to visit her, she was not surprised. It seemed only right that they should be friends, although she was unsure why. She thought maybe she wanted to have Porcia as a friend—she sounded like a very nice and from what gossip told a very virtuous and stoical young lady. It would be nice to meet a woman whose sexuality was under control and private to her, rather than displayed walls like Servilia's, or so well-known and scandalous that respect was lost forever and was replaced with fear, as with Atia.
She received her guest modestly with a warm smile; it was good to finally see the girl. Porcia walked in wearing a polite smile which was honest. That was a change from the normally fake grins that her husband's niece normally threw at her at family get-togethers. They held their hands out to greet one another before taking their seats.
"It's good to see you again, Porcia" the wife of Caesar began.
"And you too," Porcia replied, finding herself remembering the days of her childhood when she would be dragged along by her aunt and cousins to Atia's house where Calpurnia would be there with Julia, when she was still alive. Porcia would sit down and read, rather than join in the games. "I don't think we've ever had a proper chat."
Calpurnia smiled and nodded, "The last time we spoke was at Julia's funeral and that was... my gods, nearly seven years ago… time passes so fast!"
"It does" Porcia replied with a firm nod.
Calpurnia politely asked her if she would like something to drink, to which Porcia asked for water. She was worried when she just asked for plain water rather than accepting the lemon that the slaves up in Calpurnia's water. But the woman wasn't insulted or offended at all, she just laughed and had the slaves carry out the order.
"Modest like your father?" she asked. Porcia simply nodded as she drank the tasteless smoother; it was so cool and fresh, she loved it. She liked water alone—to her it was a modest way of finding pleasure. In her sips, she was interrupted by Calpurnia's next choice of words. "So, what is it you want, Porcia?"
She nearly chocked on her fresh pleasure. She covered her nose in case any water was coughed through her nose before quickly putting down the cup and recovering herself. She forced and smile: "That obvious, is it?"
"Well, I know how you Junii work" she replied.
"I'm not actually a Junii; I'm just included in the clan because I happen to share a non-related relative with my Junii cousins" Porcia explained as if she was her father who always tried to discount his connections to the Junii family—which was hard since her sister had married into it, twice. "But I don't want anything; it's more of a favour I want."
Calpurnia made a friendly motion with her eyebrows, waiting for the favour.
"Well" Porcia went on "I really need to talk to or at least pass a message on to your husband Caesar. Two of his men who he will know very well are in danger. He is a well known man around where he lives as being a war hero and has aided your husband many times. A friend of his, another who your husband knows of, came to me appealing to help. I obviously cannot help him alone. I need to let Caesar know; the death of Vorenus or Erastes Fulmen could bring chaos to the Aventine."
Rather than being confused as Porcia thought she would, Calpurnia seemed to show understanding. The younger lady imagined that her senior, being Caesar's wife, was the living example of "speaking silence" as Caesar used to call it. In her youth, Porcia had enjoyed being a "speaking silence" herself—although recent events with her father has forced her to speak up against him. Sometimes Porcia wished her Aunt Servilia, and Atia, would become a "speaking silence" themselves. The Palatine would certainly be more peaceful if those two hags weren't bitching about each other constantly.
Porcia quickly spoke again, "But don't get me wrong—I wanted to speak to you too. To be honest, I've wanted to visit you for quite some time now. You are, after all, a Calpurnii and distance relative of my late husband Bibulus. I also came for news of my stepson, Lucius."
"Well," Calpurnia began, "once I tell you of Lucius I will hurriedly inform my husband of this Vorenus of yours. Now, young Lucius has been doing quite well—once he returned, Claudia and I both agreed that he should attend an orator school so we sent him there. He's been studying all sorts of things, masculine things that normal women don't understand… so you'll have a lot to talk about when he finally decides to drag himself back here."
Porcia smiled, "He reminds me of my cousin Brutus."
"How is that, Porcia?"
"Goes to a foreign country to study, ends up having a keen-old time, and forgets all about me" she replied. "Doesn't he write letters?"
"Claudia told him that he ought to" Calpurnia explained with a warm smile. "But you know how he is."
"Hopefully he won't be like his brothers" Porcia said grimly.
"He's far too cheerful for that" the older woman replied. She then paused and spoke more seriously. "I was sorry to hear of Calpurnilla's death."
Porcia felt guilt sink in her heart down, down, down into the pits of her chest until she felt as if it was beating in the walls of her belly. It had come as such a shock to her she had pushed it to the back of her mind. All she could do was nod, "Thank you."
Seeing that this was not a route Porcia felt like taking, Calpurnia decided to go back to these two soldiers whose lives were threatened. "So, tell me; who is Vorenus?"
"Vorenus?" an elegant voice called.
As Calpurnia's eyes rose to look at her husband Porcia just sat still, as if waiting for her cue to turn around. "What about Lucius Vorenus?"
Porcia turned around and forced a smile, "I wonder if his ears are burning right now."
Caesar rolled at the sight of this girl. He wished his wife chose her friends more carefully; Porcia was the daughter of Cato, who would no doubt stay loyal to her own rather than throw her weight behind a tyrant like Caesar. She had always been against him; Caesar recalled one time when she was ten and Caesar and Pompey had permitted the attack on her father and others in the streets—the girl had flung herself at him with nails bared, fists clutching to his toga, she screamed assaults. "Tyrant" she had screamed then, and he had no doubt "Tyrant!" was what she'd scream now if she had the chance.
"Do you think it's a good idea to be friends with Porcia Catonis, my dear?" he asked casually. "She is, after all, Cato's daughter."
"Thank you, mighty Caesar" Porcia replied sarcastically.
He stood unmoving, well-built and very graceful in a soldierly-manly way: "And what has this one-woman-spawn of chaos brought upon me today?"
Porcia scowled, "Have I brought you any chaos recently?"
"As a woman you probably haven't heard the gossip in the senate" he replied smugly, knowing this would insult what Porcia thought tact. She liked to think she knew everything a man knew. "The senate loves you, my dear."
"They loved Cato" she said simply.
"Indeed" he replied just as simply. "One would think you were attempting to play at politics, my dear girl."
She just smiled, "As you say, it's not a woman's place."
Caesar looked at her, looking for a trace of deception in her eyes. The tension between them was thick fog. He steered away from the subject by going back to the original point: "Why do you mention Vorenus here, young lady?"
'Young lady', Porcia thought, he speaks to me as if I were a child.
"He's in trouble" she said simply. She stood but stayed still as if she were on a stand off with Caesar. It was like watching Cicero and Hortensius argue; or Terentia and Clodia. "He intervened when a couple of henchmen of one Erastes Fulmen were about to resort to violence towards a young freedman in the middle of a busy street…"
She noticed a slightly flicker in Caesar's eye—for a moment a spark fuelled up in her heart but there were not enough memories to back it up. Her brother had said something about Caesar, Posca and an enemy list of plebeian Catonians and stoics and republicans.
"Vorenus was keeping the peace" she went on, "but Erastes Fulmen has now sworn to attack Vorenus on market day at noon. I was paid a visit by Titus Pullo who claims they intend to fight. Either way chaos will break; Vorenus is a hero of war and no-doubt well known to people on the Aventine. But he is a veteran—if he defeats Erastes Fulmen then chaos will break out at the docks."
"I know it" Caesar said sharply. "And why are you telling me this?"
"You're Caesar" Porcia replied. "I thought you might like to use your power to keep the peace rather than disrupt it with civil wars."
"Watch your tongue, my girl" Caesar said firmly but calmly. "Popular you may be with the love struck old men of the senate you are still an orphan with no powerful father to protect you anymore. You still live because I had you saved."
"And you owe the fact I am safe to Vorenus" Porcia replied confidently, "and Pullo. Erastes Fulmen shouldn't be allowed to do this to people off his own back." The young woman paused for a moment before whispering quietly, "You wouldn't want anyone to think you had something to do with it. Vorenus is a man of fierce republican honour."
Caesar folded his arms. He couldn't tell whether she was suggesting she knew something about his dealings with Fulmen or was attempting to blackmail him. He ruled out blackmail straight away—she no doubt thought that tacky, Cato certainly did. It was strange but Porcia had a way of getting to him in a way no one else could nowadays. He almost enjoyed arguing with her. But this was not a cause for enjoyment. Cato's daughter or not she was right. If an action wasn't taken there could be a lot of trouble for him.
"And you want me to do, what?" he asked.
"Put a stop to it" she requested finally. "I want you to swear that you will stop it."
"Swear an oath to you?" Caesar said, thinking this woman was pushing her luck. "That is like making a bargain with Hecate." There is a special place in Hades for outspoken women like her, he thought. Still, he knew she was silent when she had nothing proper to say, so he decided to accept her demand of him. "Very well, I will… consider it."
Porcia glared at him for a moment before deciding to back off. This was the best answer she would get out of a tyrant like Caesar who liked to think he made decisions on his own terms rather than the suggestions of others. Brutus even suggested to her that Caesar's plan of action for putting the republic to rights was thought up by Octavian.
She turned to face Calpurnia who stood to embrace her before she took a step back and politely nodded her head to Caesar. "Thank you for speaking with me, Caesar. With your permission I will leave."
He rolled his eyes again—she treated him as if he were a king—this was her being at her most sarcastic, he thought: when she was doing it just to save her own neck. He watched as the young woman, modest in dress but loved by the rich old men of the senate, ascended the stairs, meeting her slave Sylvia before disappearing down the corridor.
Calpurnia raised an eyebrow, "She is merely a girl, my dear, and she has a good heart—even if she is a little bit haughty."
"Haughty?" Caesar exclaimed once he was sure she had gone. "She thinks far too much of herself."
"She's young" Calpurnia replied carefully.
"She is a natural born politician" spoke a third voice in Posca, Caesar's chief slave. Both Caesar and Calpurnia looked at him, both agreeing. He looked to Caesar, "If she were a man she would be leading the boni against you right now."
"You're right" the master agreed. "And I have no doubt that she will remarry soon. As my wife says, she is young, and beautiful, and clever, and is the daughter of Cato. She is the wood that would fuel the fire of my enemies' hatred of me."
He looked from Posca to Calpurnia, slowly walking towards her until he was sitting in the seat beside her, still warm from Porcia's presence there. "Whoever she marries will control the Boni—now, who do we know in the Optimates who is threatening enough and daring enough to marry Porcia?"
Calpurnia thought for a moment, trying to recall all of the faces of Cato's most notable allies. But they were all dead and all that were left were the cowardly senators who backed Caesar, secretly desperate for someone to step-forward and reassemble the Boni.
"There isn't anyone" she said simply.
Caesar smiled, "Oh there is. Think about it—threatening and daring—who is threatening and daring?"
"All the threatening and daring men support you in the senate" Calpurnia replied.
"Then look to the men who appear to be on 'my side'" he informed her. "Who is not only a threat and a daredevil but also foolish enough to be influenced by the demons that sit on his shoulder; a young man who normally leads from the heart rather than the head?"
Calpurnia paused; this time she got it right. "Oh!" she said in triumph, "You're talking about Brutus?"
"Indeed, my dear" Caesar replied with a smile, glad his wife had correctly guessed this time "Although, I have no doubt of Brutus' loyalty to me, of course."
"Then why is he a threat?"
"Because my enemies think the world of those men who expelled the kings from Rome" Caesar explained; he looked to Posca, as if telling him to explain more.
Posca did as he was told, "Brutus is a good-natured young man but he is also very impressionable. If he had Porcia Catonis whispering in his ear then he might take lead of the Boni, along with his brother-in-law Cassius, and the Julii party will be outnumbered. The majority of the senate are loyal to the memory of Cato—"the last of the Romans"—or allies of Cicero, and he always preferred Cato."
"But Porcia is his cousin, and she's such a sweet girl, she wouldn't…" Calpurnia began.
"I wouldn't be surprised if they already intend to marry, my dear" Caesar added, not with gravity but with a small smile. "That is the gossip in the senate at the moment; it is not only talk with the former Boni but with Cicero's sheep as well. Porcia is very sweet but she is also the type of woman that men of Brutus' calibre go for—he's a chip off the old block, I tell you."
"Did Brutus' father have a weak spot for the pretty girls with sob stories?" Calpurnia asked.
Caesar smirked, "Oh of course he did. How do you think he got Servilia? You could create a Greek play in five acts on her childhood alone."
-
Servilia went out to pray the next evening. That was all Porcia needed to know and all she wanted to know. She felt like rushing off to tell Brutus the good news—a couple of hours without the fear of her or her black soul watching them or judging their relationship. They didn't think about Claudia, whether she would see or not, but then nobody cared anyway. Porcia would have felt quite selfish ad she no been enjoying the moment.
It was nice to be able to talk in peace, to think in peace and do everything in peace. All the time, she felt so secure in her love and her place in life. Suddenly the conversation turned to the other day and Porcia was reminded of her talks with Pullo and Calpurnia, and Caesar.
"Who was that the other day?" he asked her.
Porcia paused and thought off the top of her, "Just someone who helped me when I was held captive. He was one of the soldiers who rescued me."
"Oh?" Brutus replied, only half listening—it was one of those days again. "Not a rival for your affections I should know about."
Porcia shook her head as she smiled; the very idea was ridiculous. "No, don't worry… there is only you at the moment" she lay her head against his shoulder. "You never know though, someone might come along and sweep me off my feet… but until then, you'll do."
"I'll have to keep an eye on you then" he replied with a smile. "There are too many men better then I am and not enough worse than me."
"True" Porcia conceded warmly. "But you imperfections are what makes you, you. And for some bizarre reason I love you. I explained all of that yesterday, remember?"
"Yes" he agreed, "but I better keep an eye on you anyway; I have an awful feeling that one day you'll realise there are other men out there better then me and abandon the sinking ship."
"Don't be silly"
"That's part of my personality; I can't change now" he replied comically, "Nor will I change for any woman."
"Good, I don't want you to be anything than what you want to be."
In those moments they were so close to kissing again, and it was around this time that Porcia thought the gods were cursing her this week—Sylvia, of course, rushed in—but the reason they hurriedly jumped to their feet was because beside her stood Octavia, Atia's daughter and Servilia's companion, and she had seen enough to incriminate them. At least Octavia was too good natured to tell.
Porcia smiled nodded, "Octavia; if you're here to see auntie then you should come back later—she isn't here right now."
"I-I know" Octavia jabbered out, "I wanted to see you."
Her eyes widened at that, "Me?" the other girl simply nodded and Porcia went on. "Well, fine; what's this about, Octavia?"
"Err, alone if you don't mind."
Seeing no reason to argue, she glanced at Brutus who seemed to gesture his hand sarcastically towards the door. The two ladies left through it and Porcia motioned Octavia towards where her room was. Once inside, she turned and offered Octavia another smile. The young woman looked about her—the room was very modest. "So, what's wrong, Octavia?"
The young woman looked nervously down at her fingers as she twirled her thumbs in a tense pink circle. "Porcia, does you aunt lie often?"
Porcia raised an eyebrow, "That's an odd question: define what you mean by 'lie'."
"I mean 'say things' to make you do what she wants."
"Well, she'll threat to beat you or something" Porcia replied, trying to think of lies her aunt had ever told. "She only lies if she's done something wrong and wants to pin the blame to someone else."
Octavia paused for a minute and thought. The only way she could get a proper answer was to ask Porcia directly, "Do you remember by husband Glabius?"
"Faintly, I didn't really know him" Porcia replied, wondering what on earth Octavia was getting at. "What about him?"
"Would you say he was murdered?"
Porcia thought for a moment—she was the wrong person to be asking that question as she had neither known or really Glabius who wasn't an especially nice man unless he became fond of you, like he did with Octavia. Otherwise he was a pig of a man and not the sort Porcia liked to socialise with. Porcia had always expected that Atia killed him—the affair between Octavia and Glabius following their divorce was not quiet. All knew that Atia hated Glabius and it was a very Atia thing to do: killing people for no reason, in a cowardly way.
"It's possible" she finally replied.
Octavia paused for a minute, thinking of the right words to say. It was hard to speak to Porcia who she hadn't really spoken to since they were children. Back then they were fairly close being of similar age. Now, there was a difference between them: Porcia was virginal and Octavia was or could be dire; Porcia was strong and Octavia was weak; and Porcia had courage but Octavia had no will. They were too different to be close; for Octavia, her old friend was a bitter reminder of how weak she was.
"Your aunt told me that my mother killed Glabius" Octavia finally said, voice shaking nervously. "If you were me; who would you believe?"
Porcia hated making other people's choices for them: "Well, who do you believe?"
"Just answer my question!" Octavia ordered. Porcia lowered her eyes on Octavia; she didn't like being ordered to do anything. But there was no fun in arguing with someone like Octavia, so Porcia thought about her question. Well, she didn't like Servilia because of her harsh treatment of her as a child by locking her in cupboards and hitting her if she did the slightest thing wrong. That said, it was a lot more than her flighty stepmother did, a woman who just couldn't be bothered to raise Porcia. At least Servilia made the effort, even if it was a nasty one. Atia on the other hand was someone Porcia disliked anyway because of her nature. Atia could malicious and two-faced without having any reason to be so, as opposed to Servilia who really only cursed people when they annoyed her. They were both horrible people either way and Porcia didn't trust either of them.
"Neither; they're both bad eggs" Porcia replied finally. "Why did my aunt tell you something like that? When it comes to people she likes, she normally keeps the unpleasant things to herself." Octavia paused, certainly not wanting to tell Porcia what Servilia had asked of her. A woman such as Porcia would find it disgusting and no doubt would be angered at Octavia for even considering it. The watchful eyes of Porcia noticed this reaction and came to her own conclusion that the demands were unreasonable. "If I were you, I'd discredit the whole thing."
"Do you think my mother killed Glabius?" Octavia questioned sternly.
"It doesn't matter what I think…"
"Do you think my mother killed Glabius?" she said again, this time screaming out the words, over and over again. "Do you think she killed him?"
Porcia gritted her teeth, deciding to be honest rather than tell a lie. She felt bad when she told lies, even for the good. "Yes" she snapped. The expression of the woman in from of her became weak and feeble, "Happy now?" Octavia stumbled, trying to find words to say but unable to. Now Porcia felt bad about getting angry and saying the truth. "But that's just what I think—I also think that you should forget the past, whatever it is, and move on. You should stop speaking to auntie. Whatever she has asked you it is unreasonable and you are clearly in moral conflict over it."
"But she's kind to me…"
"That's what she does" Porcia explained solemnly. "She is kind to people but as soon as they're useful for something she charms them into doing what she wants."
Octavia felt a little defensive, "And are you much better?"
Porcia frowned "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Servilia and I have seen you" Octavia said in her sternest voice. "I saw you just now."
"I don't follow"
"Yes you do, you just don't want to admit it" the young woman snapped. Porcia was surprised; it was only moments ago the same girl was questioning Servilia's motives and now she was defending her. "You behave so virtuous but you're no better than my mother!"
"Or you, it seems" Porcia retorted, angered. "Well I'll have you know I'm not stupid either. I know that you're more than just my aunt's companion. And I'm telling you now: she is using you to get back at your mother for her follies. Whatever things your mother may have done, consider the possibility she did it for your sake. Servilia does things for her own sake, not other people. I know her better than you do; keep on like this and you'll just get hurt! If I were you, I'd stop what you're doing right now. It's not only hurting you but it is spoiling your virtue."
"Yes" Octavia replied with a scowl. "And you're so virtuous you're having an affair with your own first cousin. If that's your idea of virtue then you have no say in the matter."
Porcia just lost it then, "You know what? I didn't ask to give my say in your personal life you asked me for my opinion. Just because it isn't the one you want to hear is no reason to start insulting me for crimes that are untrue. I thought I'd warn you ahead of time before you do something stupid to hurt your mother, your brother, my aunt or yourself… but this is the person you've become then I don't want to help you."
She paused, feeling herself shake with anger—not at Octavia but at her naivety—she never thought there would be someone more naïve than herself. "In fact, I hope you screw up your life, and then maybe I'll get an apology. The least I deserve is that. Now go away, you've given me a headache."
Porcia rested her forehead in her hands and closed her eyes. There were throbbing pains in her temples—she always got them when she lost her temper. By closing her eyes, she placed herself in the dark. That normally reduced the pain. Unlike Servilia, she couldn't come down from her anger by going on a rampage, Porcia had to strew. By the time she looked up, Octavia was long gone. She rubbed her eyes and received a knock at the door. She sighed, "Come in."
Sylvia shrank into the room and brought a smile to Porcia's lips "You actually knocked, Sylvia?"
"I'm sorry I keep bursting in like that, ma'am" she said quickly. "It's just habit."
"It's alright" she said as if she were speaking to a friend, rather than a slave. She couldn't be too angry at Sylvia, but she hoped her slave would drop the habit soon. Unlike some women, Porcia liked to have alone time when even slaves and pets weren't supposed to invade. "Is that all?"
"No, ma'am" Sylvia replied. "Caesar's slave is here to see you."
She almost groaned: she'd had enough of Caesar for one week, and enough of the Julii for a life time, and the appearance of Posca was not something she was happy about. She sighed again and followed Sylvia out to the atrium where Caesar's short little fellow was waiting. She folded her arms and raised her brows: "Well?"
"Caesar has considered what you said to him yesterday and has decided to put a stop to the attack on Lucius Vorenus" Posca said in his normal intellectual way. Sometimes Porcia thought he was more intelligent than Caesar was. It had often crossed her mind that is was Posca, rather than Caesar, that wrote Caesar's commentaries on the Gallic Wars that were recently published. Not to mention that disgusting piece of writing on her father, Anti-Cato. "He intends to go there himself to visit Lucius Vorenus on political manners. The sight of the soldiers will no doubt discourage the enemy to back away."
Porcia nodded before beginning to turn away. Although she looked casual, she was actually quite relieved. "Good for him. If that is all you came to tell me then goodbye; I have things to do."
"There is" Posca began "one other thing, if you don't mind."
She turned on her toes and walked back to Posca, resuming her former position. "Yes?"
"In regards to yesterday, he hopes that your discontent towards him will not discourage you from friendship with his wife" Posca said carefully.
"Of course not!" Porcia replied confidently. "My problems with Caesar's position wouldn't be a barrier between Calpurnia and I, and I was intending to continue being her friend regardless of Caesar's feelings anyway. It is nice to find a woman who is moral in this city, to be honest."
Posca made a smile that would only belong to Caesar's slave: "Caesar will be most thrilled about that."
"Good for him"
"Finally" Posca said, rummaging about his tunic for his bag which was used to carry letters. He pulled out a very short letter and handed it to Porcia. "The lady Calpurnia asked me to give you this. It is from your stepson."
Porcia took the letter and ran her fingers over the seal; it was the seal of Bibulus. That meant that Caesar allowed him to inherit Bibulus' fortune. She had no doubt that Lucius' real mother, Bibulus' second wife, would be pleased that her son gained the entire fortune while the first wife had no sons left to inherit. Then again, Lucius didn't like his mother. She smiled at Posca and thanked him. "Tell your mistress that I am grateful."
"I will do that, ma'am" the slave replied. He then turned and scurried his way out the door. Porcia had always thought Posca scurried rather than walked. It was probably because he was so short. It was funny enough to make Porcia smirk.
She turned around and went to her room to read the very short letter. On the outside of the letter in Calpurnia's writing, saying it had been given to her by the messenger to pass on to her today. Porcia carefully pulled the seal apart and read what Lucius had to say for himself. He stated that he was doing very well and that she didn't have to worry about him. Her brother Marcus, Scipio's son Salvito and Scribonia were all doing well. Scribonia recently had another baby, a girl, and was healthy. Lucius that he was studying politics with his cousins and complained of how boring it was. He then went on to state that the most interesting of the things he read was, ironically, Origines. This pleased Porcia greatly; her stepson was reading the works of the great Censor, her great-great-grandfather. Fianlly, he wrote that 'Uncle Marcus' sent his love and informed her that he wasn't drinking. This pleased Porcia all the more; her brother was still off the wine.
After reading this, Porcia found herself in the highest spirits she had been in since she found the courage to tell Brutus the truth about her feelings. Well, almost as higher spirits, but the letter from Lucius certainly cheered her up after all of the fighting, arguments and plans she had to come up with. When she finally put the letter down, she realised just how tired she was. Not that she wanted to sleep, she just wanted to relax, lose herself in the evening as it rolled in.
She pulled herself out of her room and back to the side of the garden where she had been before Sylvia cam marching in with Octavia in tow. Still there was Brutus reading whatever it was he was reading; she didn't really pay attention to thank. She just sank into a reclining position in the chair next to him and let out a great sigh. He glanced up and smiled, "You look run off your feet."
"That's because I am" she replied, pulling herself up into a seating position. "I have been for the past two days. It's just been one thing after the other. Why can't life just leave me alone?"
"Because you can't leave life alone" he replied profoundly with a smile. "Otherwise you'd be dead and no one here is in a hurry to meet death quite yet. Then when we do we'll all probably moan because death doesn't leave us alone."
Porcia managed to smile, "You're right. There is no satisfying mankind, is there? I wish I weren't a human but an animal; they don't have to make choices or deal with business."
"They have to deal with people" Brutus replied, placing the scroll down. "In a sense that's even worse; if you were a mouse for example you'd have to face the danger of being killed by a person or a domestic animal everyday. Either you risk going into the one space of the kitchen and be caught trying to feed yourself, or not go out and starve to death in your hole out of fear of being caught."
"I'd try to take the food" Porcia replied, half listening. "The death is more likely to be quick and painless. It hurts to starve to death I'm told."
"True, but it takes a lot of courage to march out into the flanks of cat's claws and people's feet" he said with a dreamy voice imaging what it was to be a mouse. "You might be too scared."
"I wouldn't be a mouse anyway" she stated. "I'd be a cat."
"Why a cat of all things?" he asked.
"They eat the mice that make the choices" she replied with a smile, "and they're asleep more than they're awake. And their jobs are good too—mouse catcher, I think I'd be quite good at that." They both stayed silent for a little while before Brutus made a slight laugh. Porcia shook her head and said: "Why are we talking about mice and cats?"
"You started it" he said jokily. "You're the one who said she didn't want to be human."
"I want to be whatever you want to be" she replied, laying her head against his shoulder. "So if you want to be human, that's fine with me."
Brutus looked into space for a moment before smiling again, "I think I'd make a good dog. I have the personality for it."
Porcia scowled and looked up at him "What do you mean?"
"I heel to my master, accept his favour happily, and when Caesar says 'Jump!' I say 'How high?'" he said, comically but with a tinge of bitter truth.
Her scowl became deeper, even if it was true she felt it her duty to assure him otherwise, "Don't be silly!"
"I'm not being silly" he replied with a smile, linking fingers with hers palm to back. "And don't lie by saying that you never thought so too."
Porcia didn't say anything, though she nearly did. Okay, she had thought that it was a cowardly thing to surrender to Caesar and then play-up to him. But she also found it quite brave to surrender to Caesar when he could have been killed. She didn't say that though because Cicero had done the same. And Cicero was not one of her favourite people. In the end she just sighed. "Well, if he makes you jump too high, growl at him."
"And if he still says 'jump'?" he asked, playing with her attached hand.
"Then we'll bite him."
They spoke for a little while longer before they bided each other goodnight. They said it several times before they finally parted. In the name of virtue, they gave each other one chaste kiss on the lips and retired to their rooms, swallowing their passions for another day. At least Porcia knew that she would be dreaming soon, and she hoped against all hope her passions didn't interrupt her dreams also; she had a habit of talking!
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Hope it was worth the wait and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. I hope you liked some of the hints and ironic bit in here. I just had to add the bite thing in. I thought it was a brilliant irony, foreshadowing what will happen... if you didn't get it. I hope for the best!