Thursday, February 16, 2012

Assignment 5

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Sophia Wildwood

As Gaius led the way along the docks bordering the Tiber, Arsinoe caught a glimpse of a small silver chain wrapped around his wrist. That’s strange, she thought. Most young men don’t wear such simple adornments.
            “What is that bracelet you are wearing?” She was surprised by her own voice. She had not meant to ask him such a question – in his position he could easily have her beaten for it.
            “It is a memento.” He said dismissively.
            “Of what?” Arsinoe pressed in spite of herself. Giving her a somewhat wary sidelong glance, Gaius kept walking, this time increasing the pace until Arsinoe was winded from the heat. Thinking that he was refusing to answer, she was caught of guard when he responded.
            “Do remember the festival Caesar held when he came home from fighting the last of the Pompeians?”
            “Yes.” She replied. How could she forget, her master had been in a rage for weeks after it had occurred and it still remained a sore spot for the household.
            “Well during that festival Caesar paraded the head of a man who he perceived to have been victorious over, but had, in fact, committed suicide.” Ah, yes. She remembered well.
            “Cato, wasn’t it?’
            “Yes, that was his name.” He paused and Arsinoe gave him a sharp look, perhaps one too sharp for a slave to give a senator, but she was curious. Prompted, Gaius continued. “Well Cato was a good man, perhaps the best of any man I have ever known, and he died for the freedom of this city, for his beliefs, and with honor. And that’s why I wear this bracelet, to remember him and what he stood for and how power is easily corrupted… and easily lost.” He finished with a relieved expression and it seemed to Arsinoe that he had said this many times, for it was spoken with such conviction that it was clearly rehearsed.
            “But what does that have to do with the bracelet?’ Arsinoe did not know why she was pressing this, yet she could see in his face that this went beyond political admiration.
            “He gave this to me when I was very young.”
            “Who?’
            “Cato.” Gaius said quietly. “He was my uncle.”