As a recrute, eleven years ago, he had served in the Third Legion for a while. After having been detached to Gaul, with Caesar's troops, he had served in the Eleventh and later the Thirteenth Gallic Legion. That's where he was now, serving in the bitter cold and harsh environs of the Gallic fortress of Alesia, the capital of the Tribe of the Averni and the centre of all Gallic resistance to Caesar's forces. The legions had dug themselves in with well constructed defenses and various tactics, obviously to get the Gauls hungry and release their women and children, while the men would stay and, in the end, fight, feabled and hungry, against a far stronger Roman enemy. Yet, after months of siege and entanglement of the city, the Gauls showed no sign of giving in and letting go. The weather was deplorable and many legionaries were suffering from the cold, influenza, cramps and other diseases developing from constant bad weather conditions.

This was the situation, when Titus Pullo stood watch near the porta decumana of the camp of the Thirteenth. It was raining hard with fierce storm gails and he was bloody annoyed. While he and his watch comrade Millius were trying to get as much shelter they could get from the wooden camp wall and their shields, Pullo muttered: "This weather is cac! And it's been going on like this for weeks now! How am I supposed to get or keep anything dry on my body? They want you to keep dry or the wetness will eat your feet away, they say, but how are we supposed to do this, eh?"

Millius wanted to answer, but he saw someone coming up towards them, so he tucked Pullo's elbow to be quiet and stand tall. It was their Second Spear Centurion, Lucius Vorenus. Pullo sighed: "That's the only thing I was missing right here...A visit by that cac head!" Nonetheless, they knew what their centurion could be like if they even appeared to be slackish, so they stood tall and in order in the cold, slashing rain. The reddish blond man stood still in front of them and directed the piercing glance of his bright blue eyes at them. Millius and Pullo stood still and tried to avoid Vorenus' eyes.

"What were you two doing there? Trying to skip the watch, eh?"

Pullo looked at him, the way he stood there, his centurionic helmet towering high on top of his head, proud, severity on his grimy face...

"No, sir. We were just...", Millius started, but he couldn't finish his sentence. Vorenus looked at him as if he were about to eat him raw.

"We were just trying to keep standing up, sir," Pullo added, finishing where Millius had got stuck. He now looked Vorenus in the eye, a very direct look. If it came to that, he wasn't really afraid of his centurion. If needed, he could fight the bastard and Vorenus could get hurt or killed and he knew it. That was the look Pullo gave to his superior. Vorenus, however, wasn't intimidated. He walked up to Pullo, who stood a good six foot and four inches tall, and pushed him provocatively with his centurionic vine stick.

"Legionary Pullo," he started, slowly and aggressively, "Let me warn you. If I hear any mischief from you reported by the end of this day, you will feel thirty lashes of this stick and spend your wretched night in prison!"

Pullo kept still and stood straight. Vorenus lingered a bit longer in front of the two legionaries, hit the side of his boot with his stick, saluted and walked on. The two soldiers saluted him back. As soon as the centurion was out of their sight, the two soldiers relaxed and backed up against the wall and crept behind their shields again.

"That rat bastard! Always threatening me, him. He knows that if he's ever gonna do thirty lashes on me, that'll be the last thing he ever do in his life!"

Millius spat on the ground. "I hate that man. He's got no heart. I bet he's not even alive, but put together out of dead legionaries' spare parts! You know that there's a bet running on him?"

"No," said Pullo, cheering up a bit. A good, sassy gossip story could always cheer him up. "Whot's that then?"

Millius winked at him. "Now listen. There's a bet going on around the men of the centuria: how long has Lucius Vorenus been without a woman? How long has it been that he got laid the last time?"

Pullo laughed hard. "Well, that's a easy bet then! Where's my money? Centurion Vorenus has NEVER in his life been with a woman!"

They both laughed, their shoulders shaking. Then Millius said: "I think you're wrong there, Pullo. Vorenus is married, I was told. Married...WITH children!"

"Oh aye?" Pullo asked, astonished. "Him?? Surely not!"

"Yes!" Millius laughed, "He is! He's got a wife and two kids." Pullo couldn't believe his ears. That serious halfwit, a married man? Hm!

They were relieved from their watch and as Pullo had scuffed down his daily porridge and bread, his simple soldier's food, he laid himself to rest, still hungry, trying to get warm under is army blanket. He still had to think about what he heard about his centurion. Thinking of this, his thoughts went back to when Vorenus and he had first met, back in the days of the Third Legion. Someway or another, the two men had been together and apart from time to time and although they had never particularly liked eachother, their roads had crossed several times, as if they had been meant to somehow get along. In a particular way, they had been legionaries together, optiones and finally centuriones. Yes, Titus Pullo had been a centurion once, too. When both he and Vorenus switched from the Eleventh to the Thirteenth Legion and moved into the northern Gallic lands and Gallia Belgica, they both got their centurion's rank. Pullo even recalled them sparring to get promotions within the rank at the time of the great battle at Atuatuca, in the Belgian lands. Back then, they were both regarded and in high esteem as heroes of the Thirteenth Legion, Pullo being known as the one who used to challenge Vorenus to prove his heroic ways in battle and Vorenus had always responded to this, mostly to save his comrade from being too brave and getting killed in the fight. Usually these fights ended up in both of them taking care of one another during the fight and killing lots of enemies along the way.

Some way or another, however, things had gone wrong after that time. Vorenus kept on going his own professional and serious way and Pullo rather enjoyed his fame and never failed to brag about his fighting, spoiling and loving skills. Back then, too, his motto used to be: "I like to kill my enemy, take their gold and enjoy their women." The more fierce and savage these women were, the better. He would chase them down as if they were deer, but once they were docile and under him, he would treat them as if they were princesses and queens. Some of them were, by the way, Gallic tribal queens.

"Mmmh! Queens of the tribes!" he grinned aloud. Laying under his blanket, chewing his bread and trying to get some warmth and sleep, he would think on, trying to remember more of the what and why of his military career. As a centurion, he had never been too hard for his men. Still, they knew that it was better not to get into trouble with Titus Pullo.

Measuring 6 feet and a few inches and broad in his shoulders, with huge muscled arms and being a tough fighter who would go on and on in a man to man combat, they feared his sight alone, although they knew that his nature and spirits were basically friendly. He would drink with them as one of them and that's what made him popular among his men. Yet, foolishly enough, he didn't think much of what his superiors would make of him. Every time he was off duty, he would go off and eat, drink, gamble, fight and get laid until dawn. He was a popular man among te local women, whether their men liked it or not. Mostly, the young Gallic women wouldn't tell their men or fathers that they had been messing around with some Roman soldier or officer, especially not if they were tribal princesses. But, of course, because Pullo had been fooling around with this one Belgian girl too many, right after the battle of Atuatuca, which had ended as a tie for both Gauls and Romans, she got pregnant and blamed a strapping six footed centurion called Pullo for it. This was enough to cause a rebellion among the Tungri, the tribe the girl belonged to. Right after the battle, when Caesar's troops were still licking their wounds, the legions got nervous, when an angry mob of Tungri appeared at their gates, demanding to be led before Caesar and claiming the right to plead their case. They demanded that this wretched centurion Titus Pullo be hanged and his corpse be given to them to their satisfaction.

Caesar wouldn't give them one of his centuriones. Still, Pullo had to appear before his general and he would have to apologize before him, his senior officers, his men and before the princess of the Tungri and her family. After that, he would be demoted and carry on his duty as a legionary, never getting a chance for promotion in his active service period. Of course, Pullo felt sorry for what he had done, for having made the poor girl pregnant (although he realized that it could have been any sordid bloke with blue balls around) and he accepted the fact of his demotion. He made his public apology and that was it.

Soon enough, his story was all over the camps in that part of Gaul. Centurion Pullo, the hero of the Thirteenth Legion, the hero of the battle of Atuatuca, had been mumping a local girl and had made her father angry, so he got demoted and as such, he had made a big fool of himself. For most of the men, this was a very amusing story. Poor Pullo. This time, he had chased down and mumped the wrong woman... His serious comrade, Lucius Vorenus, felt ashamed of him. He couldn't feel any sorry.

"I am ashamed of the fact that I'm serving in the same outfit as you are. I thought you were a brave citizen, a true soldier, a hero!" he had shouted. "But I was wrong. You are nothing but a...a....." As he went on, his voice grew louder and his face got more red. Pullo couldn't look him in the eye.

"And MY punishment is that I have to put up with you! They put you under MY command! A rotten fool like you!" Vorenus went on. At this moment, Pullo lifted his head with one swift move and looked Vorenus severely in the eye.

"Don't call me a fool," he said and then, as Vorenus started laughing, "Please, don't. You'll regret it."

"Hah! I'm regretting this whole thing already! I regret being put up with a stupid *ss like you!"

"Please, don't call me a stupid *ss, please...", Pullo pleaded.

"I am your commanding superior and I will call you whatever I like! You stupid *ssh***!"

Pullo suddenly came foreward and punched Vorenus in his face, who got knocked down immediately.

"I warned you," he muttered.

Within a second, Vorenus, who was still down, called out for two men, who had to take Pullo away.

"Take him away and tie him up to a pole. Take off his clothes. Assemble the whole centuria."

Within a minute, Pullo was tied up to a pole, stripped down naked and barefoot. The centuria was assembled and Vorenus, bruised and still bleeding from the blow he had received from Pullo, yelled out to his men, telling them to pay attention to what would happen to a soldier who would strike a blow to his superior. He would get a good licking with his centurion's vine stick.

"This stick you will feel enough to make you sing! I hope for you, that you won't sing out of tune!"

The men stood there in the rain and wind, their faces grey with fear.

"Out of tune....If you hear me sing, you will wish you had never got the sense of hearing, you rat bastard!" Pullo hissed between his teeth.

At that point Vorenus turned to him and ordered him to count the blows he would receive. Then he started hitting his back. The hard, crusty wood landed on his spine in a hard and rough way, but Pullo didn't scream. The expression on his face hardly changed. This made Vorenus mad with anger. He started hitting harder and harder still. The skin on Pullo back cracked open and blood began to appear. Still, Pullo wouldn't utter a sound. He only sighed now and then. After a few minutes, Vorenus grew tired and looked at Pullo, then at his men, who stood there, quite shocked, but without saying a word. Then, Vorenus grew anry again and resumed hitting hard on Pullo's back. At this point, Pullo, who was bloody annoyed with all this theatre, started singing to piss off his superior. He sang in a terrible off key voice:

"Run and hide, Gaulish warriors, run and hide! Your life's forfeit, your gold is mine and your woman's mine, too! S*** my ****, the lot of you! I am Titus Pullo, ya hear?!!"

He went on singing and the men laughed. It was just one of old Pullo's songs, but Vorenus went mad as hell because of this singing. It made him beat harder and harder still. At one point, he landed his stick right on Pullo's head, wounded him badly, but broke his stick in two.

"Ah!" Pullo said, annoyed, as if a bug had bit him. Blood, however, was all over his face.

"Stop it!" a voice said firmly.

Vorenus looked up, right in the eyes of his general. His arm was up, as to strike another blow, but he downed it slowly and then saluted. The general of the Thirteenth Gallic Legion slowly walked up to the scene and screened Lucius Vorenus with his eyes.

"What's going on here?" he wanted to know.

Vorenus saluted again and said: "Legionary Pullo here has offended his superior by hitting him, sir. This alone is good enough for a death penalty."

"You don't have to tell me what's good enough for a death penalty, centurion. Who is his superior?"

"I am, sir."

The general came closer and looked carefully at Vorenus.

"Hm. I don't see any severe injuries, centurion. Are you sure it was YOU who got knocked down? And that it was HIM who knocked you down?"

"Sir, legionary Titus Pullo here knocked me down. There are whitnesses for that," Vorenus firmly stood his case.

The general then turned to Pullo, who was still tied to the pole, naked, bleeding heavily.

"Are you Titus Pullo?"

Pullo nodded.

"Is he your superior?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you knock him down?"

"Aye, sir."

"Why?"

"He called me names, sir."

"Names?"

"Yes, sir."

"What kind of names?"

"He called me a fool and a stupid *ssh***."

"Hmmm. Why?"

"I got demoted, sir. Because of that..eh..thingy with that Gallic woman..."

The general smiled. "Oh, yes. I have heard about that. That was not all that smart, eh? Ah well, you're not the only man to make a little mistake like that once in a while. Yet, by getting her father angry, you embarassed Caesar and his whole army, so we had to demote you. I assume you can understand that."

"Yes, sir."

The general nodded. Then he turned to Vorenus.

"Centurion?"

"Sir?"

"Untie this man and get him some medical care. I don't want you beating him to death. He hit you because you offended him. As his superior, you are supposed to set the right example, which you didn't. I don't want my centuriones calling their men names, just because they like it. And I don't want these men standing idle. I think they have more important things to do than watching their centurion beating up men at his wish. Dismiss them, get this soldier inside and then dismiss yourself."

"Yes, sir," Vorenus said, obediently.

The men started moving. Pullo was untied and helped on his feet.

"And centurion...," the general resumed.

"Sir?"

"Immediately after taking care of this soldier, I want you to report in my tent."

"Yes sir."

That was it. Pullo was taken care of for a week. He had to spend several days in a sick tent and when he was fit enough to walk again, he had to do several days of double watches and hard labour, but he knew that Vorenus had been punished by the general as well. He was denied leave for several weeks and not allowed to write home for half a year.

"Hahae! Revenge has a sweet taste!" he muttered, remembering the whole thing again..

Mascius, one of his comrades, came sit beside him with his bowl of grub. After shoving a few spoonfuls in his mouth he softly punched Pullo with his elbow.

"Oi, Pullo. What’s up? You’re so quiet."

"I was just thinking about Vorenus. Remember when he hit me so badly, because I had punched him in the face? That time he broke his vine stick on my head?"

Mascius nodded. "Sure enough! That was a good show you put up there. I liked your singing!"

Pullo smiled a bit bitterly and nodded, too.

"Still, I don’t like it that Vorenus and I are sort of enemies since then. We used to be centuriones together and good fighting comrades. One way or another, he took it very badly that I was demoted."

"Hmm, yeah. That was a pity, your demotion. I guess, them high nobs had to do that to save their own face and hide against them Gauls. Hmmm. I tell you, if that c***y would have had a crush on me, I surely would have m*mped her, too!"

They both chuckled, amused by the thought.

"I think Vorenus was disappointed that the honour of being a centurion obviously meant so little to me, that I was prepared to give that up for mumping that woman. But it’s not like that, honestly. If I wouldn’t have been caught, I still would have been a centurion and I would have been proud of it. Yet, after losing my rank, I found out that it didn’t mean that much to me, after all. I’m still a hero of the Thirteenth, no matter what people think. I saved my comrades’ skin more than once. Even Vorenus’ skin! He only doesn’t seem to realize it."

Mascius chewed down a few more mouthfuls of his tapioca.

"But what’s your problem with him then? Why so sad about the bastard? Because he calls you a fool and seems to scorn you? Why, he’s a damn fool himself, who doesn’t love life and has no humour at all…"

Pullo shook his head.

"I dunno, Mascius. It’s just thatI feel sorry about all of this. I dunno why, but somehow I feel sorry for the man.."

"You want to make it up to him then?"

Pullo sighed and laid down on his bed. He didn’t know. Somehow, he felt sorry for what had happened and that his former sparring friend had become a scorning personal enemy.

Mascius finished his meal and then said: "If I were you, I wouldn’t care too much about that man, Pullo. He doesn’t deserve it. I don’t mind centuriones to be strict and severe, but he is so morose and serious….Never laughs….Never jokes. He even never m*mps a woman! Say now, what kinda man is that?"

"He’s married, with children..", Pullo said very softly.

"What you say?"

Pullo turned his face towards Mascius.

"He’s married and has two kids."

"Who? Vorenus?"

Pullo nodded.

Mascius started to laugh, not believing what he heard.

"Get off! Married, with children? How can he be? He’s a f**king soldier, for Dis’ sake!"

"Still, he’s married. Millius told me so."

"Hah! How can Millius know about that?"

"How the m*mp should I know? But why should Millius lie to me, his best friend?"

Mascius nodded, agreeing. So it had to be right then.

"He’s just so different from us. We like to enjoy life as much as we can, given the circumstances. Him, he’s got other things to worry about. He’s got to save money for his wife and kids and take care of getting it to 'em. That’s way different from what we think of and care about."

Mascius fell silent. Pullo looked so serious when he said those words. He wasn’t used to see his comrade like that.

"Oi, are you getting serious on me too now? Come on, let’s go out and see if we can get some wine or beer. All that serious talk makes me thirsty!"

Pullo never argued to an invitation for a drink, so he got up from his bed and walked out of the tent with Mascius for a good, cold drink.

They tried the beer for a change. It was cold and tasted good. As they were sitting there, drinking and chatting about the latest events and happenings that day, Vorenus came in, a morose, serious grin on his face. He stood still at the entrance of the tavern in the village that had been erected just outside the camp, where the men were allowed to get in and have a drink before nightfall. Vorenus was obviously looking for someone. He spotted Pullo sitting with Mascius on a bench and drinking. He moved towards him.

"Legionary Pullo!"

Pullo stopped chatting and looked up. When he saw that it was his centurion, he stood up and saluted him. He didn't have a clue to what his commander wanted from him, but he stood there and waited. Mascius had also got up and saluted. Vorenus looked at both of them and then dismissed Mascius.

Somewhat curious, but also with some boredom on his face, Pullo looked at his commander, silently asking himself what would be the problem this time and why Vorenus just couldn't leave him alone. The two men stood opposite to eachother, Vorenus suddenly seemed a bit at a loss.

"Eh..em..I have to talk to you. Let's go outside."

They both went outside, Pullo with his beer in his hand and still curious. They sat outside, a bit away from the tavern.

"You..eh..,"Vorenus started, "you seem to know about women, so the men say."

Pullo went like: "??????". Vorenus wanted to talk about women?? He tried to keep his face as neutral as he could, though.

"Oh. Eh..well, yes. Yeah, you could say that. I got a girl in every Gallic town and village, if that is what you heard," he answered with a grin.

"Yes, I heard about that. Now, I don't want you to tell me about your experiences with women...in bed. I mean, that's not what I wanted to talk with you about. I need some advice."

Vorenus' voice sounded businesslike and straightforward. Pullo didn't understand what he wanted from him.

"Well, you see, sir, I'm like this: "I like to kill my enemy, take his gold and..."

"Yes, yes, I know that. Everyone does. That's not what I want to know. You see, it's my wife. I have a wife in Rome. I used to get a letter from her every now and then, but she hasn't written me in a few months now and....Pullo, I don't know. Should I send of of these veterans returning to Rome to her, to get to know how she is, whether she lives and if she is still faithfull to me?"

Pullo shrugged.

"Well, you could do that, if you rally want to know how she's doing and whether she still loves you and all that.....Then again: she might be dead, or m*mping another man.."

Vorenus' face hardened again.

"But I don't want to find out that she's dead or with another man! That's a horrible thing to say there!"

Pullo sighed. Sometimes, his centurion sounded like a little kid.

"Well, it DOES happen, you know! Wives of military men, who are away for years can die or run off with another man...You wouldn't be the first one to find that out," Pullo chuckled.

Vorenus' face was very strict now.

"You shut up! I am talking about a real good woman here, not about one of your trollops. My wife Niobe would never leave me!"

"Ni....who???" Pullo tried to copy, snickering. "Any road, how would you know that, huh? You haven't seen her in years. Why should she be faithful?"

"She's a good, decent and faithful wife! And we have two children.."

It seemed as if Pullo didn't listen to his plea for his good and decent wife and he went on:

"Did you send over some money to her recently?"

Vorenus looked at him as if he didn't understand where he was getting at.

"What do you mean? What's that got to do with it?"

"If you don't send 'em some money now and then, these wives, they start getting unfaithful and looking for a man who can take care of 'em. That's only right so, too. You see, it's the way us men want 'em to be, right? Dependent, faithful. But you need to put some effort and money into them then. You can't keep 'em fed and clothed just with some words of love. If you haven't sent her any money lately, I think that's why she hasn't written you..."

Vorenus gave Pullo a bad face again.

"My wife would never be like that! NEVER!! You don't know anything about real women."

"Right. Well, why ask my advice then? I'm only known as the best women loving man in this whole m*mpin' legion, I am. But that's not good enough for you, obviously. Why don't you just leave me be, then?" Pullo retorted a bit angrily.

"You will address me according to my rank, legionary," Vorenus formally responded.

"Well..why don't you just leave me be, sir?"

That was it. Vorenus was angry and fed up enough with Pullo's company that he firmly got up and walked away. Pullo just emptied his cup of beer and got inside the tavern to get another one. Anotther conversation with his superior just failed.

Inside the tavern he saw Mascius again.

"Well? What was that about?"

Pullo just shook his head and didn't answer. He ordered another beer and downed it in one gulp. Mascius looked at him, wondering what had happened.

"C'mon. Tell me!"

"That man is an idiot," Pullo muttered. "A stupid idiot. He doesn't deserve a loving wife and all that. He's just crazy, him!"

That was all he would say. He paid his drinks and went off, back to camp, leaving his friend behind.

In the following days, Vorenus was sent on a special mission into quite dangerous enemy territory and Pullo stayed behind, doing his camp duties. They wouldn't see eachother for some time and Pullo was glad his superior centurion was off his back for a while. Vorenus' stand in was a strict man as well, but he had a much more wordly character. Petillus, as he was called, had good fighting skills and he was a brave soldier. He also had a good appetite for women and would discuss the opposite sex on various occasions over a cup of wine with legionaries like Pullo. Although Titus tried to get Petillus talking about Vorenus and his somewhat strange situation for a military service man, being married and all that, the centurion would never spend one word on his colleague.

"I don't know about all that," he would say, "and I don't care. If people want to seek more problems in their life than they can cope with, that's up to them. Why should I bother about that?"

"Well, mostly, I don't care either, but Vorenus and I once were colleagues and we are brothers in arms. I would always help a fellow soldier."

"That's very well thought of you, Pullo. But make sure you don't put your nose too deep in someone else's cac. Even when he aks you for advice. The only thing Vorenus wanted, I guess, was get something off his chest. And you were the one for him to talk to. People talk easily to you. You seem to be an easy and laid back person to talk to. That's not bad. Not bad at all. Just don't make his problem yours, right?"

Pullo nodded. And that was all there was to it. His centurion would walk off and not discuss this matter again.