Brutus sat in the tent for quite some time contemplating his fate. He knew Cato would never agree to the marriage and that Porcia’s love for her father was deep enough to hinder a relationship. He recalled the last encounter they had with painful clarity. Brutus had seen Porcia loose all her inner-strength and watched the collapse of her mind when her father threatened to disown her. He did not wish to see a repeat of that raw occasion.

Yet, still Brutus wished to ask for Porcia’s hand. Rome was a lonely place without his dear cousin there. The news of her kidnap had drawn him back to the east, would he stay for her sake? He refused himself any delusions of grandeur and stayed focused on the deed at hand: seeing Porcia safe. He drank from wine a servant had offered him, and knew that when Cato arrived he would not hear the end of it. He took a deeper sip of his wine as a result of this and as if on cue, Brutus was called into Cato’s tent. Cato’s eyes glared sharply into Brutus as his mouth formed a sort of sneer.

“Young Brutus, what brings you to the east?” Cato asked expectantly. Brutus felt as if he was being interrogated, and answered plainly,

“ I wished to be present at Porcia’s return.” Brutus saw a flash in Cato’s eyes and knew what was coming; a long drawn out torture.

“Is that all? Porcia was being a foolish woman to have gone and caused you such worry. You had to leave Rome. I imagine the tickets were pricy and the journey was perilous. I am sure your presence in the Caesarian Senate was missed as well. ” Cato said mockingly, a callous dislike showing in his brown eyes. Brutus nodded, and thought to bring up the constitution but put it aside.

“Yes, I have had the chance to contribute in the senate, though I am sure they do not miss me. You and Sextus have done well to vanquish the rebels in Issus.” Brutus added conversationally, hoping that Cato did not perceive this as flattery or evasion.