Remember, remember

[Sara]

December, 74AD - the Via Latina, a day's walk/half a day's ride from Rome

As was customary, Horatia lit the sprig of incense in front of the marker, erected some way back from the dusty road that drove south to Naples. Unlike many of the funerary monuments constructed on this route, the one she came to visit was set back into the forestry - concealed from travellers, and secluded. Her arms were covered in a thin film of goosebumps at the memories that flooded her mind in this place, and why she had deigned to visit, in secret. It had been twelve years but everything was as vivid as if she were reliving it yesterday; the wight of the toddler Titus in her arms, the ear piercing scream, the smell of blood, the feeling of fingers working under her tunica¹. She swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. This was an evil place, full of awful memories, but one she had to visit.

A year after the incident she had erected the stone to Decius, the man that had lost his life here. He was a slave, his absence hadn't been commented on or noticed by her parents in law, or Aulus when he had returned home some seven years later, but Horatia keenly felt his loss. He had protected her, even in immense pain. He had been kind. And so she visited every year she could, on the anniversary of his passing, of that fateful day. She never told her husband or own family where she was going; insisting that she was going to visit a friend in a villa and so needed a horse and her freedman; employed for her protection. Said freedman stayed well back from her, standing with the horses on the road. Neither did her husband or her family know about the little monument she had erected; she used funds from her father which she had informed him was for repairs to a women's respite home in the Aventine. She had then told her parents-in-law a similar tale to get double the funds so she got her stone and the women got their home. Everybody won, but poor Decius. 

She sniffed back her upset as she crouched in front of the marker, until she heard a twig snap; somebody walking through the clearing. She spun around on her heel and blinked, trying to figure out who it was.

 

TAG: OPEN

¹ Horatia is thinking about her flight from Rome to Baiae in the civil war, as recounted here.

[Chris]

Eppitacos had been a free man for almost a month. Calpurnia, whom had purchased him by way of proxy at the private auction held by the Caesars earlier in the same year, had surprised him with an early Saturnalia present. As she had said: "This year, your freedom won't end after a week of celebrations." As was the custom, and as he felt obliged to do, he took her gentile name, and took the name of his mother, then added on his own to officially restyle himself as Servius Calpurnius Eppitacus... though to most he was still Eppitacus, or just Epp.

The first thing he decided to do with his freedom was leave Rome. As much as his curiosity of the greater world outside of Rome interested him, he hadn't once in over ten years had an opportunity to truly see the countryside. The Romans had built the greatest city the world would surely ever know in Rome, but he knew that they had come from hills and pastures the same as his people.... once upon a time. And so he desired to see these lands for himself.

He started south, with his initial destination set for Neapolis. The trip took him just under a week, though - by way of a suggestion from a rather drunk soldier at a taverna - he ended up traveling on to Pompeii. He had never seen so many bordellos on one street as he did in that city... but he enjoyed himself. What little money Calpurnia had gifted him was spent quicker than he anticipated. Once he was out, he debated whether to try and etch out a life in Pompeii, or somewhere else, or return to Rome. In the end, Eppitacos decided that Rome offered more opportunity by way of his patron Calpurnia, and so he made the return trek.

After days walking he entered a stretch of the roadway that was crowded by foliage on either side. He felt a sudden flashback to his home, where roads had been made through nature, not on top of her. He thought about how, in his previous life, he had been among the trees, looking out on the Romans stomping forward on roads. Now he was stomping just the same. It had been some time since he simply wandered the woods. He wondered if he could even speak with nature anymore, as his Druid fathers had taught him.

With a deep breath, Eppitacos stepped away from the roadway and into a small sliver of the world the Romans had decided to let be.

He felt suddenly alive, surrounded by the quiet of the trees. But he quickly realized he wasn't alone. He stepped forward, not entirely carefully, as the path continued farther into the woods, until it seemed to open just slightly.

His eyes caught sight of a woman standing alone and he felt his curiosity take over him.

Another step.

What's she doing here alone? He thought to himself. Could she be in trouble?

Thinking back to the signs he had seen at the mile markers about brigands, Eppitacos took his eyes away from the path and surveyed his surroundings.

Another step and this time a twig snapped beneath his foot.

He instinctively looked down, and then immediately up to see that the woman had turned in surprise. He held up his hands... well, his right hand and the stump of his left forearm to show that despite his certainly ragged appearance, he meant no harm.

"Apologies for the surprise, domina," he said, as gently as possible while thinking to himself, "Please don't scream."

 

@Sara

[Sara]

Horatia felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest at the sight of the man, towering, dishevelled and maimed. This can't happen again. It beat against her  her ribs, with such force that she had to wind a hand across her chest to help herself calm down. She took a step back and her foot caught on the edge of the incense she had lit, and she winced at the burning pain. "My freedman is on the road, if I scream he'll be here quicker than you can draw a weapon." She said, trying to collect her thoughts as she found herself backed against the funerary marker she had erected for poor Decius. 

She glanced him over. He was significantly larger than her - which was not uncommon given her slight frame - and although obviously maimed, looked to be in fine physical shape otherwise. She didn't much fancy her chances should she try and run. 

"Who are you?" She called out, but pointedly kept her distance and wound her palla tighter around her. Her voice was steady and calm, but the slight widening of her eyes and the tension rippling across her body must have been a signal she was extremely uncomfortable. "What are you doing here?" The thought briefly crossed her mind that he might be employed by her family, extended or nuclear. She had always been opaque about where she went on this day every year; perhaps they had gotten wise to her lies and employed him to follow her here? Surely Aulus would have just come himself? She swallowed at the thought.

 

TAG: @Chris

[Chris]

Eppitacos caught her every moment from her stilted breaths to the way her foot caught against the incense burner and brought a grimace to her face. Yet her fear held her in place. He heard her warning: That she had a freedman on the road ready to protect her if needed. Before he could say anything to reassure her that he had no ill intent, she spoke again, questioning who he was and what he was doing. Both valid questions considering the circumstance.

"I haven't any weapons," he said first, keeping his arms raised and his voice as calm as possible. "So you don't need to call out to anyone." Though he didn't remember seeing any freedmen waiting by the road.

"My name is Servius Calpurnius Eppitacus," he said, deciding it a safer move to give his Roman name than the Briton one - though he had no way of knowing that the woman he was speaking to was a relation to his former master Calpurnia.

Why had he entered into those woods? "I don't have a good reason for being here," he added, honestly. "I simply noticed an opening in the wood and thought I might explore. Then, I saw you and wondered if you might be in some sort of trouble.

"I can leave if you prefer."

@Sara

[Sara]

Horatia trusted the man as far as she could throw him, which was to say, not at all. He could have a knife in his belt ready to pull and so she kept pressed up against the funerary marker - eyes flitting between his figure and the route back to the road. 

But fear gave way to confusion as he gave his name. Calpurnius? What? She let him finish answering her questions, explaining (or...not) why he was here. She ignored his question, however, confusing reigning and a nagging question lingering in her mind. "Servius Calpurnius Eppitacus?" She repeated and flitted her gaze up and down his form and then back over her shoulder, just to ensure nobody was approaching from behind. "I wasn't aware of any Calpurnii with your cognomen." She narrowed her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. It also didn't sound like a Latin name, but she knew freed slaves took their masters names. "You are a freedman? Who did you belong to?" She asked perceptively before tensing her shoulders again, "Unless the name is perhaps made up and you'd like to tell me your real name?" 

She folded her arms over her chest protectively and still moved no nearer to him, although her eyes occasionally darted back through the clearing, back towards the road.

 

TAG: @Chris

[Chris]

Eppitacos had been raised to observe nature, and observe people. First as a Druid, and for the rest of his life to that point as a fighter. He could understand how a person felt, or what they might be thinking based on how they stood, or how their eyes darted frantically back and forth.

Truthfully a part of him hated that for everything he had earned, all the riches and glory, he was still beholden to this frightened woman in the middle of a bunch of trees. That his newfound freedom could be taken away with a simple call for help from her.

But, there was a chance to diffuse any sort of escalation by way of his name... only he presumed it was from the fame attached his his Briton name.

"My real name is Eppitacos," he said, still adamant on being truthful. "Surely you've heard the name? Briton warrior? Gladiator?" Though he was a modest man, he found it hard to believe she had not heard his name.

"Calpurnius is a new addition," he continued. "I was purchased from Caesar by the Vestal Calpurnia and by her earned my freedom." He hated even saying those words: that he had earned his freedom. Freedom wasn't a thing to be earned, or owned, or even given. He was sure this Roman woman disagreed.

He watched her eyes continue to jump from him to the clearing behind him, to the roadway beyond the trees and the noise of the traffic upon it.

@Sara

 

[Sara]

Horatia nodded, realisation dawning on her. Panic and fear had taken over her senses, but now she was calming down she remembered she had heard of him, and from the horses mouth - as it were - directly. 

"I know Calpurnia," She admitted weakly and wrapped her arms around her waist protectively, "And you." She narrowed her bright blue eyes on him. "I'm her sister in law." She finally admitted. What was a freedman going to do with the information that she was out here alone? She considered lying, stating she was some random equite, but what good would it serve, and besides, she was intrigued. "She wrote to my husband about you, and to me, but I hadn't realised she'd freed you." She looked at him, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. 

"Fortuna smiled on you today, Eppitacos," She finally managed with a more relaxed smile, "Had you stumbled upon a woman who did not know Calpurnia or that she rated you highly, she would have likely screamed bloody murder." Horatia wouldn't, not now, not unless he did something to warrant it - but she didn't full fully calm yet. This was an awkward encounter, given where she was and what she had been doing. 

"I...just needed to stretch my legs," She said by way of an explanation, a lie of course, "That's why I'm here...not that you asked."

 

TAG: @Chris

[Chris]

Eppitacos made continued mental reminders to himself to maintain an easygoing appearance - he didn't want to appear rigid or imposing to this woman before him. He kept his eyes on her as she admitted that she was familiar with his name, and surprisingly that she was Calpurnia's sister-in-law.

His eyes widened at the revelation. He had never taken much time to learn much of Calpurnia's extended family. He knew she had a brother, but not much more than that. Though it seemed that Calpurnia had spoken of him to her relatives. He put a small smile on his face as he and the noblewoman found some common ground, strangers as they were.

He kept the smile intact as she spoke to Fortuna's blessings - a point upon on which he agreed.

"As you say Domina," he said, his voice as calm as he could make it. "As I said, my curiosity led me to this spot, and some concern for you led me farther." He considered what she had said about her freedman waiting on the road, and let his eyes jump away from her to examine their surroundings a little closer. He noticed what appeared to be a small shrine or marker behind her and, letting his intuition guide him, wondered if it was of some significance.

"Though," he decided to continue, in case she did happen to be in some sort of distress. "If you are in any sort of trouble, or need help, I am of course obliged to help.. seeing as how you are family to Calpurnia."

@Sara ((sorry for the delay!!!))

[Sara]

Horatia offered a tentative smile and tried to release the tension she was holding in her body, although with little success. She had always had a knack for perception and studied him, noting the way his eyes jumped from her figure to the little, simple stone marker behind her. She side-stepped to cover it with her frame and glanced solidly at his face. 

"I thank you, that's kind." She folded her arms across her waist defensively. He might not be an overt threat to her, but that didn't prevent him from being dangerous. She'd buried her secrets for years, nobody knew; not her family, not her friends, not even her body slave. Yet he could undo it with one ill-timed comment to her sister-in-law. She felt anxiety tighten her chest. But something else was eating at her; she hadn't expected to be disturbed here, today of all places on today of all days and whilst usually fairly reserved and unemotional, and for all the years she had kept her secrets, the urge to tell somebody bubbled away deep inside her. 

She flicked her eyes between him and the distance where she knew her freedman waited on the road and then back to his face. "I'm not in any trouble, no." She said after a pregnant pause and exhaled another tense breath. The urge to admit some sort of truth versus the urge to ask him to leave swelled in her stomach. "I...sometimes need a break, to get out of Rome." She shook her head, "To remember and find some peace." There. A compromise. She glanced up at him, wondering if he'd understand her meaning before venturing; "You must understand that the city can get claustrophobic and...challenging at times. I've read that your land is full of wide open countryside, nature, no people for miles around?" 

 

TAG: @Chris

[Chris]

Eppitacos took in the clues she gave with her movements and her body language. She was a strong woman, there was no doubt... and stubborn, it seemed - though that was not always a vice.He smiled quickly at her comment on his kindness, and then waited with a held breath as she tried to find the words to explain that she was not in any sort of immediate danger. Though, based on what she said, there was something more emotional or perhaps spiritual affecting her well-being.

He nodded, understanding the feeling of being pent up and smothered that came along with spending too much time in the crowded streets of Rome.

"Yes, it is," he said, a small smile crossing his lips at the fact that she knew anything of where he came from. "I haven't seen my land in over a decade," he admitted, "but it is quite a different place than Roma... though this country has a comforting character of its own."

He paused for just a moment. "To be honest, this is the first time I have seen anything beyond the outskirts of the city since I was brought here," he said, "but I fully understand the desire to just escape." Perhaps not the best choice of words for a recently freed slave.

 

@Sara

[Sara]

She listened, genuinely interested with a light smile on her face. "My husband was there for a time as a legate, his descriptions are...less than complimentary." She managed a small bubble of laughter, "But the writers have a more balanced view." All the writings she had read had mentioned rain, hills and cold. Much the same as Aulus' descriptions, although the authors also tended to emphasise the generosity of the (tamed) barbarians, the beauty of the nature and the emptiness. Horatia thought such a sparse lace might suit her, once it had been properly subdued. 

"You haven't been outside the city?" She queried with an arched brow. Spending time in the country - whether visiting her reluctant sister at Tibur or going to the villa in Baiae during the summer months made her life in Rome a little more tolerable. There was only so long she could hack the sights and sounds (and smells) of the city. 

"I'm sure now you're freed, and Calpurnia's service is nearly complete, that she'll invite you to spend time at the villa. It's beautiful, and peaceful." She offered a warm smile but kept her arms defensively wrapped around herself. "And I'm sure you should come for dinner as well," She arched a brow and studied him, "What an ultimate sign of progression - inviting the man who incited war against Rome as a dinner guest of the men who lead it." She shrugged lightly, "I know plenty about you Eppitacos, although I'm sure my son would rather hear the stories of your life first hand." 

 

TAG: @Chris

[Chris]

Eppitacos couldn't help but smirk at her mention of her husband's less than complimentary recollections of Britannia. He wouldn't expect any different from a Roman... especially if her husband had been fighting the Britons when Eppitacos commanded them.

"I have not," he said, affirming that he hadn't traveled beyond Rome before that very trip from which he was then returning. "Any exposure I had to anything beyond Roma was from fighting men and beasts brought from abroad. I'd prefer to see them in their natural element."

To which she mentioned Calpurnia and her villa. Eppitacos knew of his patron's villa, though he had not yet visited. He put on a smile to match hers; warm and calming. He was happy to see that, despite her crossed arms, she seemed to be relaxing to his presence. Once again the influence of Calpurnia had saved him.

He widened his smile at her mention of the irony in his being a dinner guest... though internally he felt his heart lunge. The war that I started? But he had learned enough about Romans to know better than always speak his heart.

And then she mentioned a son.

"Indeed, I'm sure he would. Should he desire it, or you, I am of course obliged. I could not deny a request from a relative of Calpurnia." He just hoped her son wasn't some snobby Roman brat. That would be a situation where he would find it much more difficult to hold his tongue.

@Sara

[Sara]

Horatia nodded with a tight smile. She'd have hoped he would have enjoyed the offer, been flattered or wished to speak with his patrons familia, but judging by his words - aloof although carefully chosen - that might not be the case. "You would not deny it, but you would not enjoy it?" She summarised with a quirked brow and an intrigued look. He was a freeman, not somebody who had to fear her reproach, at least not in the way slaves did. That he was still reticent surprised her, and didn't quite equate to the man she had imagined when she had heard of his exploits and deeds in Britannia and in Rome. 

He was an interesting study, and one that made the wheels of her mind turn. Considering him, but remaining stock still on her spot she continued to speak; "Calpurnia is a woman of great means, but my husband is equally advanced. I'm sure he'd listen to your plans for the future with interest, should you decide you would enjoy a dinner or trip to the villa." Her lips twitched in vague amusement, before she continued; "Which - if I might ask - are...?" She noticed the missing portion of his arm, how could she not, but didn't wish to directly address it. He obviously had means though and a wealthy patron, but what was a warlord without the use of his sword arm? What did the future hold for him?

 

TAG: @Chris

[Chris]

Eppitacos surmised from Horatia's tight smile that despite his best efforts to master the Roman way of discourse, he hadn't quite perfected the subtleties of it. Or was he just overthinking everything and putting too much Roman into the Briton? She posed a good question, though, that took him away from second-guessing himself: Would he enjoy it? That largely depended on how his hosts viewed him and treated him. Was he to be a showpiece for their entertainment? Or was he to be seen an equal - or at least something close to it?

"I would enjoy the opportunity," he answered with a soft smile, "though I don't have much in terms of plans or grand aspirations to speak on. It's been a long time since I've had the freedom to think of a future." In Britannia, and even in the arena, he had been consumed with the here and now, fighting the threat of the moment, and winning the chance at another day. "My past was dominated by warfare, and that is, truly, all I've known. Any plans I once had are nothing but memories now." He cast his eyes down to look at his shortened sword arm. 

"I always believed the gods had a better use for me, I was just never good at listening."

 

@Sara

[Sara]

Horatia let out a laugh, although it wasn't absent of nervousness. She hadn't completely settled in his presence; "You've got a silver tongue Eppitacos." Enjoy the opportunity, indeed she thought to herself. She listened in silence as he spoke and her eyes followed his own to his shortened sword arm. To suffer such a fate, she knew many Roman men would not have born it - they'd have either drank themselves into an early grave or else chuckled themselves into the Tiber, weighed down by stones. 

"The Gods brought you here," She countered to him, "To Rome. Perhaps not in the way you would have liked to have come," Would anybody rather travel in shackles than as a conqueror, after all? "But they put you in the arena, they did that," She gestured to his arm, "To serve some higher purpose." She had an innate belief in divine interventions. Many, she knew, thought that the Gods only intervened when they had the whim to cause a little chaos, whereas she believed they actively took an interest in all of their subjects' lives. Everything happened for a reason, she had to believe that. 

Distracted momentarily by her thoughts, she was silent. Realising it, she glanced up back to her company with a soft sigh and shrugged her shoulders, "It's a painful thing, I suppose. To imagine the Gods would cause you such hardship. I understand the feeling." She left it hanging there - she was not about to admit what happened on the road to Baiae (and why she was here now), nor her miscarriages, the loss of her mother, nor her woes in childbed to a perfect stranger. But Horatia was not immune to suffering, just because she was wealthy. "But, as I said, they've given you wealthy patrons. A career in the arts, perhaps?" Her lips twitched in amusement, "Replaying your greatest triumphs in the theatre? Lots of men would pay good money to see it, I'm sure." She was being a little facetious, but she didn't doubt some idiots would actually give away gold to see Eppitacos arrayed in his British finery on the stage. "Or..." She frowned, "I had thought ex-Gladiators can be employed by their old Ludus'? To teach others their skills?"

 

TAG: @Chris

[Chris]

Eppitacos listened intently as Horatia spoke to him. He could hear the weight of belief behind her words. She was right, and he believed - as she did - that the gods did have some purpose for him. He had fiercely believed that his purpose was to save Britannia when he was younger. That belief was shattered, and over time as he was separated from his home, his culture, his people, his gods, he lost all belief or interest in any sort of purpose other than living.

"A truly higher purpose that would be," he chuckled after Horatia spoke of his prospects as an actor. "Though I believe I've had my fill of being an entertainer."

Which brought Horatia to suggest another route to him.

"It isn't uncommon," he conceded, and then contemplated how truthful he should be about the situation he had endured at his former ludus; with an ex-betrothed who wanted nothing more than to see him dead; that she, and not the gods, had twice been the agent of chaos behind the greatest changes in his life. "But I've also had my fill of killing," he grinned.

Eppitacos took a deep, contemplative breath. "As I said, for most of my life I used my hands to destroy... and now that destruction has taken its own toll on me." He raised both arms up to briefly display the difference between his forearms. "I would like to use the hand I have left to create... something," he smiled softly.

 

@Sara

[Sara]

She smiled softly and inclined her head. "Women will never understand," She shook her head - being unusually candid, "What men go through in the face of war. I don't blame you for having had enough of it, and death for that matter." Women's - or at least Roman women's - hardships during periods of conquest and savagery were altogether different. Waiting at home, wondering if a husband or a father or a son would ever come home, and wondering if they did not and they and the army were lost, what fate would befall those left behind? She knew full well what fate that would be. She shuddered. 

"Create?" She arched a brow and studied him, "An artist?" curious, she thought to herself. She'd never known a man as famed as this one simply wish to retire - well, not besides good old Cincinnatus, and do something completely different. "Will you walk with me to the road?" She ventured as she stepped a little away from the shrine. She would come back here later, when Eppitacos was long gone to grieve in peace, but for now her interest had been piqued by this man. 

 

TAG: @Chris