Chapter 6

Getting To Know One Another

Portia and Flavius left by the front door, passing the steward whose responsibility it was to announce the guests as they came to his owner’s residence. 

Even though this house was located in the Clivus Victoriae, the most prestigious area of Rome on the Palatine Hill, there were still no windows facing the street, a precaution against burglars.  The other windows and doorways faced courtyards inside the residence, as was the manner of city homes.  This door was the only entrance to the outside and was rather small.  Even though this was an elaborate home, the exterior was plain brick except for the front which had a narrow, slightly pitched porch roof, held up by eight tapered marble columns carved at the top with delicate Corinthian Capitols, and a white marble porch. The simple exterior, except for the entrance, belied the sumptuous interior.  There was a narrow planting of small bushes and flowers bordering the porch with steps taking the visitor to a small street that ran along the Walls of Roma Quadrata, the oldest fortification in the city.

     When they made their way to the front porch, Flavius was expecting to see slaves with a litter waiting for Portia, and he looked towards her, saying with a questioning tone in his voice, “No litter?”

     ‘No”, Portia replied.  “I haven’t been in Rome for such a long time, I wanted to see as much as I could since I will be leaving for the villa tomorrow morning. Litters interfere with the view; also, it pleasures me to walk under the stars.”  What she didn’t mention was that she had felt it would be difficult having a conversation with Flavius, if she’d had to speak from a litter with slaves between them.

     As they followed the meandering street, they came to the Carmentalis, the Palentine Gateway. One could look south and see the gate to the Circus Maximus.  Portia hesitated and looking towards the Circus Maximus, said to Flavius, “What a day you have had!  I never enjoyed so much excitement in all my life!  You put on quite a show for the citizens.”

     Flavius showed her one of his broad smiles,  “Yes, it did go well.  I had been working on some new strategies for using horses in the field and I wanted to get more experience in maneuvering the chariot.  I didn’t think I would win over the other experienced charioteers, though. It was more than I had hoped for.”

     Portia asked,  “What will you do with the palm branch and the laurel wreath?”

     “I will send them to my mother and sister,” Flavius answered promptly.  “It will be great fun for them to know I am doing well here in Rome, and the prize money will mean a lot to my father.  My father has never seen so much money at one time and he will be overwhelmed, I am sure. I wish I could see his face when he gets it.”  Without waiting for a comment from her, he added, “Did you know that charioteers can accumulate great fortunes if they are top contenders for the victories?”

     “No, I didn’t.” she answered.

      He quickly added, “If a charioteer has the gods smile on him, he could make a fortune that even a very wealthy man would envy. However, being able to race has politics to it, like so many things in Rome.  It was only your father’s influence that gave me the opportunity to race today.”

     At the villa, Portia had had difficulty asking Flavius personal questions as she had felt it beneath her station to do so, and he had seemed preoccupied with his men and duties.  Here, he seemed more relaxed.  Then, too her father had vouched for his character; and somehow this made her less reticent about questioning him.

     “You never told me about your family,” she stated.

     “There isn’t really too much to tell.  I grew up on a small farm in the countryside that was not very productive. No matter how hard we worked, my father had difficulty feeding the family.  Since he is a landowner, he was called to serve in the military. I couldn’t let him leave the farm and my mother. The family surely wouldn’t have survived without him, and my parents love one another so much, I didn’t want them separated.”    

     “And what about you?” she asked.  “How do you feel about the military?”

     Her question caught him off guard.  He hadn’t considered this before. He always thought of his duty, and not his feelings about being a soldier. Rather solemnly, he answered, “Portia, this might be hard for you to understand because you are a gentle person.  At best, the military is difficult.  Discipline is extremely harsh.  An innocent soldier can be killed because a comrade in arms wavered facing a fiercer enemy.”

     Without saying anything, she just looked at him trying to understand his words. 

     “When soldiering, we must consider ourselves one complete unit, somewhat like a chain. If there is one weak link all are endangered.  The men know that and act accordingly.”

     “I don’t think I understand the military.  Perhaps you can explain what you mean”, she said.

     “If a man turns his back to the enemy, he is vulnerable to the blade, the spear, and the rider of the horse.  If he faces the enemy, he has not only his own shield for defense, but, those of his comrades. I command men, so I understand this.  Fear is contagious and spreads among the men like a fire gone wild.  You can almost smell it.”

      As Flavius talked, it was almost as if Portia wasn’t there.  He seemed to be thinking out loud, remembering some past events that he had seen.

     “One man’s fear can cause many to turn their back to the enemy.  If men run in battle, all can be slaughtered. If we find one man who runs, he will be immediately slain by his superior.  Then, later, discipline will be reinforced with the deaths of one man in every ten.  Before they face the enemy, soldiers know that perhaps they will be killed by the enemy defending their country, - but that, - if they run, they will surely die.”

     Portia shivered. “Have you ever had to discipline men in this manner?”

“No. I have trained my men well. They understand and know what to do.”

“Why do you stay?” she asked.

“Many reasons.  I gave a personal oath to my country, and will not be shamed by refusing my duty.  My pay helps support my family, and I know of no other way to help them.  I dream of someday finishing my obligation, and receiving a land grant at retirement for serving well.  I want my own farm someday, with grapevines and olive trees growing in some fertile valley. I want to live in peace with a loving wife and children.” Portia couldn’t help but smile in pleasure when she heard of his dreams for the future. He continued, “Caesar and I have discussed the plight of the soldier and the common man and both of us want to improve their conditions.”

Portia said, “That is a noble desire.”

“We want to see the citizens uplifted in all aspects of life.  As I see it, being educated in the letters would bring refinement.  Philosophical ideas as taught by the Greeks, would help Romans consider more noble thoughts. But people need honest work, and goals too.  There are many Romans, poor and on the dole, with nothing to do except attend games.  I consider that life should offer more than that.  It should be noble and have purpose.”

Portia said nothing, but agreed with his ideas.

By this time they had come to the Forum, which occupied the valley between the Palatine and Capitoline hills.  It would have been more direct to walk through the upper Forum, but Portia asked, “Can we walk through the Via Sacra?” the sacred way, which ran through the center. “I would like to see some of the temples.”

“Yes”, said Flavius, “but we can’t linger.  I want to arrive at your father’s residence before dark, as we have no torchbearers.  Also, Rome is very busy tonight because of the games today; more people than usual seem to be milling about.  A million people live in Rome and it seems that most of them are here tonight in the Forum.”

There was the usual noise and activity of a large city.  The merchants were bringing goods in carts for nearby shops and the market that occupied the open square. Before Rome’s tenth hour, four o’clock in the afternoon, wheeled vehicles were prohibited from driving through the streets, so it was very busy now with all the wheeled traffic being added to the pedestrian traffic.

During the day, affairs were debated in the offices in the Forum.  In the basilica, businessmen made deals, and financiers discussed loans. Close to the courtrooms, the baying of the spectators and the loud voices of the lawyers could be heard from a distance. In other places, perhaps the loud screeching of a quarrel or a fight, about to break out could be heard.  Now, during the evening hours, nobles moved about, followed by groups of clients eager to please their patron and to see that no harm came to him.  Many such nobles flaunted their wealth, adorning themselves in costly clothes and, sometimes having exotic pets with them.

As they walked, Flavius thought of the triumphal marches of the many legionaries who had carried their booty through this street to the applause and shouts of the citizens.  He could almost hear the insistent blasts of the legionary horns, the slow beat of the drums, Rome being made rich through her conquests.

If enemy ships were destroyed, the men would attach the ram of the destroyed ship to the wall of the Rostra.  Since the Rostra was the Forum’s speaking platform, all of Rome would know of their brave deeds. It was not uncommon for the heads and hands of Rome’s enemies to also be displayed on the sharp rams.

Flavius had Portia walk on his left side to keep his fighting arm free.  He had his hand resting on the handle of his gladius, its scabbard adorned with gold and silver ornaments, a gift for his valor. He also carried a long narrow dagger concealed under his cloak.

As they approached, Portia said, “I would like to stop at the Temple of Venus.” She walked up the marble steps with Flavius slightly behind her, occasionally looking over his shoulder at the crowd.  When they reached the top of the steps, she gazed at the statue of Venus, and seemed to be communing with her special goddess.

The statue was located in the middle of a square temple.  This faced eight closely set columns at the front entrance, which mirrored the columns set in the back.  Eight columns were situated on each side of the temple.

Flavius stood behind her, facing the crowd, giving her more protection, and also allowing her some privacy for her thoughts.

As she turned around to start down the steps to continue their journey, she said, “Flavius, would it sound strange to you if I told you that I have recurring dreams and that I seem to remember wispy memories of my state before I opened my eyes as Caesar’s daughter?” 

He became very attentive to her words leaning closer to her, so the meaning wouldn’t be lost in the din of crowd.

She saw no disapproval or disbelief in his face, so she continued. “I feel I was sent here to help Romans understand love; to live love - be love.”    

He hesitated, then said thoughtfully, “I have never said this to anyone, Portia, but I, too, have had similar dreams. My dreams tell me that, I am to experience and encourage cooperation among men.  It is something I put into practice whenever I can. I find people react to it in a very positive manner. The modern world uses force and control. Romans know little else but the cruelty of war.”

“Flavius, do you believe that people come here to fulfill a mission?” Portia asked rather wistfully.

He didn’t answer her right away.  She looked at him to see if he understood her question, and he stopped walking and looked into her eyes.

“It seems we have something in common Portia. I know I am destined for an important mission for the gods and my country.  I knew this as a little child helping my father in the fields, as I had time to think about it while we worked.”  He continued walking again, and said, “So much time has passed since then, and it bothers me that I can’t remember what I am to do.”

“Maybe you do have a mission Flavius, but the time hasn’t come yet to fulfill it.”

The memory that alluded Flavius was that the spiritual hierarchy had sent him to put into place a Pax Romana.  This peace was needed because someone else was coming with a Christmas Message for the world.

They both walked in silence for a while, not knowing what to add to the conversation.

Changing the subject, she said, “Did you know that, before he was voted to the office of pontifex maximus, my father used to live near here?”

“Are you referring to Subura, east of here?” Flavius asked, since this was a residential district nearby.

“Yes.”

“No, I didn’t.  Your father never mentioned it to me.  He wouldn’t want to live there now.”  Flavius added, “Many of the less fortunate have gathered there, along with some shady characters.”  Looking at her from the corner of his eye to catch her reaction, he continued, “And fallen women ply their trade there.  The narrow alleys are dangerous to travel, with criminals waiting to rob you. The atmosphere is rough; gangs control the streets.  The people are closely contained in unsafe tenements and dissatisfaction festers.”

Portia said, “It doesn’t sound as if anyone would want to live there.”

“No, I guess not,” said Flavius.  “For the poor on the dole, the tenements of the Subura, are the only place they can live. There are many people packed in one room, families crowed together in buildings that are real firetraps.  Since your father has seen some of these wretched places, that may explain why he has some of the ideas that he has about helping the common man.”

They were very close to Caesar’s residence now.  While in Rome, Caesar was living in a very lavish city house on the other side of the Captoline Hill.  He had come back from Further Spain with plenty of silver booty from the mines, and could afford the rent.

When Caesar was in the field fighting, he might sleep on the ground with his soldiers, but whenever civilizations’ offerings were available, he would have every amenity, whether he could afford it or not.  This house was a city house, and, like Cicero’s had only one outside door and columns just as ornate.

Flavius had in his mind that he would guard from the outside after Portia entered, while she, on the other hand thought that if she did not find a way to ignite a relationship between them now, he would be gone from her forever.

As they approached the doorway, she looked up at him and said in the sweet soothing voice he’d come to love, “I want to thank you for all the assistance you gave me and my father during those troubling times when there were attempts made on our lives.  I also honor your vigilance and your men’s efforts in their completion of duty.  I am very much aware that an assassin came close enough to my home to do me harm and you have not been properly rewarded for your effectiveness.” 

“All I need is to know that you are safe,” he said.  “I know of Caesar’s great love for his daughter and the gods smiled upon me by allowing me to serve you.”

His words sent thrills tingling through her body as she thought that, perhaps, there was a hidden meaning in them.  She was hoping and entreating her gods that his words were for her heart and not for Caesar’s favor, and she knew exactly how she wanted this virile man to serve her.

Standing at the door, Flavius said to her, “Do you have the key?  Portia wore the key on her necklace. Taking it off, she unfastened the key and handed it to Flavius.

He locked the door, and opened it, then handed her back the key. “I will wait here for your father until he gets back.”

She looked through the doorway to the dark interior.  As calmly as possible she said, “There are no servants or guards on duty.  There could be someone lurking inside intending harm to my person.  Would you enter first and make certain that the interior is safe?”

He had not considered that she would ask him to enter on behalf of her safety.  As a Roman centurion, charged with guarding her, he could not refuse. On the surface, the request was reasonable, because of the recent attempt on her life. However, he also knew that there could be other reasons why she might ask him in. He was torn.  His passion was hoping that there was more to the request, but his soldier’s training hoped that it was just as it appeared, an innocent concern for safety.

Then, he looked into her eyes and saw the fire of passion in them.  He had learned to recognize that sign.  For painful seconds, he was caught in conflict.  Her eyes told him that she wanted what he wanted.  Still making eye contact, they moved to the other side of the door.  He instinctively locked it, and struggled for the last time.  Maybe she hadn’t considered all the …but the blaze in her eyes stopped that thought dead. 

Caesar's Daughter and the Centurion © 2001

Chapter 1

Chapter 5

Chapter 12

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