Pullo takes a job as a hit man for Erastes Fulmen. Alas, he has little aptitude for anything besides the actual killing, and thus gets himself pinched in short order. Vorenus wouldn't intervene in Pullo's trial even if he wanted to, because he's got other stuff to worry about. One of his old soldier pals is coming to him with complaints from veterans that Caesar isn't giving them any land in Italy. Vorenus takes their concerns to Caesar, who decides to have Vorenus offer some distant land to the vets and a personal bribe to the negotiating soldier. Vorenus succeeds in closing the deal, and his conscience dies a little bit more. At a party hosted by Julii Cooper, Niobe has trouble fitting in with high society, and Vorenus is sad to learn that nothing can be done to save Pullo; since his victim was a critic of Caesar, it would be politically unwise for anyone from Caesar's camp to help Pullo now. So Pullo ends up sentenced to the arena and a bloody scene that makes Gladiator look like a middle-school play. Pullo ends up alive but exhausted, defenseless against the cudgel-swinging hulk sent in to finish him off. So Vorenus jumps in to save Pullo, at a cost to himself that we don't yet know. But if Caesar's looking for people to blame for his weakening political situation, it's a shame the mirrors were so crappy back then. Because in trying to simultaneously flatter and ditch Brutus by offering him the governorship of Macedonia, Caesar instead mortally offends the younger man. Mortally for whom? If you don't already know, it looks like we might soon see. Oh, and Julii Cooper and Mark Antony get back together.
An old man runs in panic through the Roman streets in the dead of night while a man's voice (let's pretend we don't immediately recognize it as Pullo's) hums a mournful tune. The humming seems to come from everywhere and nowhere, and from somebody who is definitely not running. But before we can speculate upon when and how Pullo became a disembodied wraith of the night, the old man runs himself onto an outstretched knife. The weapon's owner drives it further into the man's body, and the victim slowly and painfully falls into the street. And in case you're just joining us, the killer is indeed Pullo, wearing furs and jewelry that make him look like he's reinvented himself as gangsta rap star Tight-S (His first jam: "Baby, Pull My O"). So I guess he joined Erastes Fulmen's operation after all. He crouches down just long enough to wipe his blade on the dead man's toga, and then leaves him to the scavengers who emerge from the woodwork to loot the corpse. (Human scavengers, in case that's not clear.)
Vorenus also has a new job. He's won his election to the post of magistrate, as promised, and his workday is about to begin. He steps out onto his balcony and looks down at the citizens gathering in his courtyard to be magistrated. He goes back into the house, where Niobe and the girls are fussing over their own appearances. I don't know why.
Oh, now I know why. When Vorenus takes his seat in the courtyard, his entire household is arrayed behind him. They have to stand around while he goes about his magistrative duties? Good heavens, how tedious for every member of the family who isn't a magistrate. Vorenus gestures to the first petitioner to step forth. The man has a complaint that you don't hear much nowadays: all of his piss has been stolen. Apparently, some soldiers broke his pots and tipped them over the heads of citizens. He doesn't say whether the assaults were accompanied by screams of "Where was my parade?" As he's going about his complaint, a man pushes his way to the front of the crowd and pleasantly protests that the perpetrators might have been gladiators impersonating soldiers. Vorenus seems to recognize the fellow, and they smile amiably at one another. The complainant protests that he knows soldiers when he sees them, demonstrating this ability by recognizing the new arrival as such despite the lack of a uniform. Meanwhile, Vorenus's younger daughter is exchanging flirty glances with a boy in the crowd, until Niobe physically turns the girl's head to face forward. She's no doubt worried that the nine-year-old is liable to come home pregnant any day. Piss Pot Guy is starting to get more and more...well, pissed about the lack of piss, without which he apparently can't make cloth. I am so glad I don't have to wear the costumes on this show. Vorenus isn't so squeamish, though; he grabs the man's cloak and rather sharply assures him that it won't happen again. The guy recognizes this as the dismissal it is, and takes off. Vorenus is now free to greet and embrace the ex-soldier who's just arrived, and we get to learn the guy's name is Mascius. Vorenus comments on the guy's weight gain, and Mascius chuckles that he's done nothing but "fuck and eat and fuck" since he got home. In between inappropriate swearing, of course. Niobe "blushes" in the background, and Mascius apologizes for his language. Vorenus says they'll talk later, after he's all done magistrating. Mascius apologizes again, this time to Niobe, and heads out.
Later, after a long day of magistration, Vorenus and Mascius catch up in Vorenus's kitchen. Mascius expresses disbelief that Vorenus hasn't seen Pullo, until Vorenus cuts off the discussion with a terse "Pullo's dead to me." Pleasantries out of the way, it turns out Mascius is actually there on some business: Caesar's veterans are unhappy. Mascius says that they don't want more money; they want land in Italy. Vorenus says they'll get their land as soon as Caesar can make it so, but that it won't be in Italy. Mascius points out that Vorenus has land. Vorenus says that he needs income as a magistrate, and besides, he's only one man, rather than legions. Mascius rather bitterly says that it must be lovely. I at first think he's talking about the deal Vorenus got, but Vorenus interprets the comment as being in reference to the land he owns, which he says he's too busy to have seen yet. "We don't want to be unreasonable," Mascius begins, and Vorenus stands and says, "Then don't be. We had an agreement." Mascius gets up to leave and asks Vorenus to talk it over with Caesar. Vorenus agrees, and the two men part with formal greetings. Vorenus turns his head to see that Vorena the Younger has been peeking from behind a door, and he growls at her. Playfully, I think. With Vorenus, it's hard to know what that looks like.
Pullo is splayed out, mostly naked, in an opium den or something. He finds himself a bit more naked when a couple of skanks relieve him of some of his jewelry. He wakes up in time to yell at them, but not enough to shift himself to pursue. Instead, he reaches for a nearby pipe and takes a drag, his head hanging upside down off the end of the couch he's occupying. Naturally, he coughs. He's lucky the contents of the pipe didn't fall out into his nose (I'm guessing. Not that that's ever happened to me).
Among Erastes Fulmen's various other faults is his totally dismaying taste in cuisine. Right now, he's in a tavern enjoying a plate of barbecued mice in the company of his henchmen. Yes, the man is eating mice. On purpose. Item #1 on this episode's long, long list of things I didn't need to see. Pullo comes in and sits down to Fulmen, declining to partake of any mouse because he heard somewhere that it's bad to have someone slip you a Mickey. Pullo's there to ask after his gig. Fulmen says that somebody always needs killing, but that he doesn't appreciate the indiscreet way Pullo chased his last victim up and down the street: "Might as well have done it in the Forum." Um, who cares? I admit I'm not well-versed on the state of forensic science in ancient Rome, but it's not like it would have looked like an accident. Pullo promises to be quieter time, and Fulmen makes him squirm a bit before agreeing to set him up with a new victim the day. "Give me some money on spec," Pullo says, looking pained at having to ask. Fulmen doesn't say anything, but he makes a big hairy show of slipping Pullo a couple of coins. Pullo picks them up and heads for the bar, but Fulmen growls, "Not here. This is a respectable place for decent citizens." Who eat mice. Fulmen's henchmen cackle rudely at the dis. Pullo looks like he wishes he had enough self-esteem left just to kill Fulmen for whatever cash he has on him.
The Senate chamber is nearly empty, except for Mark Antony, Caesar, and Vorenus, the last of whom has apparently just brought Mascius's request to the boss. "What would they have me do?" Caesar asks. "I cannot make farmland." Amazing at this point to hear Caesar admit there's anything he can't do. In any case, Mark Antony tells him he's wrong: "It's called eviction." Caesar asks whom he should evict, and when Mark Antony says Caesar should evict his enemies, the dictator seems genuinely surprised to hear that he still has any. He vows to make friends of them, but Mark Antony says he'll make enemies of the veterans in the meantime. Caesar asks whether the vets would really turn against him, and Vorenus says that although they wouldn't fight against Caesar, they may become bandits and raiders. "In your name," Mark Antony adds. "Not good." Caesar instructs Vorenus to tell Mascius, "To all loyal veterans, I shall give good land in Pannonia. Good, fertile bottomland." Where they can grow the best bottoms in Italy, no doubt. Vorenus doesn't think Mascius will accept land that's so far away. So Caesar tells Vorenus to make Mascius "a personal offer." Um, how personal? Will he offer to let Mascius touch his -- oh, wait, Caesar's talking about money. Never mind. Caesar gives Vorenus full discretion over the size of the bribe.
Vorenus turns to go, but Caesar remembers to invite him and Niobe to the shindig at Julii Cooper's house. Vorenus says he's honored, because he doesn't know that Julii Cooper throws a party roughly every forty-two seconds. "You look troubled," Caesar says to Vorenus, as if that's news. Vorenus says, "My wife and I are simple people, sir." Caesar says that they'll "get used to good society," and Vorenus takes off. While this conversation has proceeded, a couple of Senate pages have carried a new Consul's chair onto the dais. Since I've never described the old Consul's chairs, I kind of have to do so now. They're basically made up of legs in the shape of an inverted U supporting a U-shaped seat that curves up on the sides with no back to lean against. It doesn't look like a nice place to sit for long periods. In fact, the only way to make it more uncomfortable would have been to form it out of Roman U's. But now the new chair is here, and we see that Caesar has ordered some modifications made. It now has a back and much higher arms. In fact, this chair represents the first evolutionary steps toward thronehood. Caesar happily settles into it and tells Mark Antony, "I didn't think my back could take another of Cicero's eulogies." Antony agrees, "He praises you so long and high, one might think he was being sincere." Caesar merely chuckles at Antony's latest passive-aggressive attempt to keep Caesar's head at a manageable size, because it is so too late for that now.
Things are different on Vorenus's domestic front as well. One of the girls is in the middle of a flute lesson when Niobe spots Vorenus entering the courtyard, and announces that it's time for her two guests to leave. She's all lady-of-the-house, giving them each something out of a little box, asking them to visit again, and saying, "I'd be happy to receive you." Simple people. Heading down the stairs, the formerly nosy and currently jealous neighbor, Mrs. Kravus, starts to snark to the other visitor about Niobe's new airs. But she stops herself to give Vorenus a polite greeting, which he barely acknowledges on his way upstairs. Upon entering his house, Vorenus asks about the two motionless, dark-skinned women standing at each side of the door. "Leased," Niobe explains. "Very good rates, too." Vorenus snaps at her to dress them more. Noticing that Vorenus's grumpiness is a notch or two above his normal baseline irritability, Niobe suggests that he have a lie-down. He wishes he could. She comes up behind him and kisses him on the shoulder, as if to offer a lie-down with benefits. His only answer is a nonverbal "Thanks, but I'll pass."
Town Crier time. He's bellowing to a small crowd that Caesar has now been named Dictator for Life, and that "the fifth month is henceforth named July in his honor." Sounds like Cicero's getting into his role a bit much. One of the listeners is Cassius, who walks off disgustedly.
Somewhere nearby, Brutus is walking along with a little entourage when he comes around a corner and happens to notice a subtle little graffito: a cartoon guy with the word "Brutus" is driving a bloody cartoon sword into the back of the head of another cartoon guy, labeled "Caesar." Brutus orders one of his guys to erase it, and the slave starts scrubbing. Right then is when Cassius happens along to tell Brutus this is an exercise in futility, since the same cartoon is on every building in town. "Don't worry about those scribbles," Cassius snits. "King Caesar knows you're his loyal friend." Brutus lightly claims only to be worried about the unflattering likeness (and the artist didn't even draw his teeth) before going on his way. Following, Cassius tries some sucking up. He says that the plebs see Brutus's "noble ancestor" in him, which is why they put Brutus on the walls. "They see my wretched name," Brutus scoffs. Cassius asks if there isn't weight in names. "You may call a cat a fish, but it will not swim," Brutus says. And you may call a clunky line a witticism, but it will not entertain me. Cassius tries a different tack, saying that the plebs love liberty. Brutus isn't hearing it: "The plebs like to see their betters fight. Cheaper than theater and the blood is real." So young, and yet so cynical. They've now reached the Forum, and Cassius leads Brutus over to the Senate House to show him something. I wonder what it could be?
Yeah, that's what I thought. It's just the two of them in there now, and Cassius is trying to get Brutus all offended over Caesar's new chair, calling it a throne. Actually, he calls it a "thrrrooone" in a tone that would make Cato himself proud. Brutus mildly says, "I believe thrones are generally more decorative. That is decidedly plain and chair-like." Cassius suggests that Brutus is a coward. So I guess the sucking-up portion of the conversation is over. Brutus denies the charge. He says he knows what Caesar is, but that he has pledged himself as Caesar's friend. Cassius asks whether Brutus would let the Republic die for the sake of a friendship. Brutus says that he's just one guy: "The life or death of the Republic is not in my hands." Cassius could not disagree more. He puts a hand on Brutus's shoulder and whispers, "The people will not accept a tyrant's death unless a Brutus holds the knife." Brutus furiously slaps him away. Undeterred, Cassius calmly insists, "You know he'd never accept exile. He has to die." Because Caesar would totally accept death. Brutus looks like he's about to do violence to Cassius instead, not that Cassius looks too worried about it. And he's right to be sanguine, as Brutus simply storms out without another word. So Cassius hasn't lost anything, unless of course the room is bugged.
Pullo is waiting in a quiet street with one of Fulmen's henchmen, who's humming annoyingly. Pullo shushes him, and the thug then asks Pullo a rude question about "Gaulish cunny." Instead of asking him to go back to humming, the dead-eyed Pullo says, "Don't talk unless I tell you." Yet he doesn't object when the thug indicates an approaching group of three men and says, "There, in the middle." Pullo meets the little group in the street, knife drawn, and stabs his target in the gut several times while the victim's two sidekicks run away. Worst bodyguards ever. They aren't the only witnesses, either; Pullo picked the only spot on the street where he could be seen, and an old woman weaving in a stall now screams bloody murder. Almost literally, in fact. As Pullo walks away from the scene, she follows him down the street, shrieking, "Murderer!" over and over again. Pullo turns on her, raising his knife to make it a two-fer, but he changes his mind when the old woman cowers in terror. Pullo continues on his way, but his threat clearly didn't take, because the woman is still following him and screaming, "Murderer!" Pullo drops his weapon on the street (earning him the eternal gratitude of the cast of C.S.I.: Rome) and finds some steps to sit down on. The voice of the woman starts echoing all around him, and he presses his hands to the side of his head as he finds himself surrounded by a whole gaggle of identical old-woman accusers, all screaming "Murderer!" at him. I get that Pullo's weak grasp of symbolism means that a telltale heart won't be as effective as a bunch of telltale tale-tellers, but the eleventh episode is a little late to start making with the fantasy sequences, Rome.
Vorenus was right; Mascius is, indeed, disappointed at Caesar's offer. Vorenus tries to sell him on Pannonia, but Mascius isn't thrilled about what basically amounts to nearly hostile territory. "Our brothers don't want any more fighting," he says. "They won't have it." So Vorenus offers Mascius the bribe, with about as much finesse as you'd expect, in the amount of 5,000 denarii. Mascius is, of course, offended at this implication that his honor is so cheap, implying in turn that Vorenus's is. Vorenus controls his temper, and says that Mascius wouldn't be betraying the other veterans: "If they will not have Pannonia, they will have nothing." Mascius says that men with swords never starve, but Vorenus says they still die. "Captains first," he adds pointedly. Mascius gets the message, and asks for 15,000. Vorenus talks him down to twelve, and they sit there in mutual shame for a moment, like they just woke up spooned together. Vorenus is the one who approaches Mascius, and they part amiably, if a bit stiffly. Not stiffly in that way, though.
From behind Vorenus, Niobe asks if Mascius is gone. Vorenus turns to see his wife decked out in a crazy-fancy olive-green dress and a big old Servilia-style Roman hairdo with feathers pointing out of the back at angles that make them look like the blades of twin propellers. Vorenus tells Niobe that she looks beautiful, and that she'll do fine at Julii Cooper's place. That's probably true, as long as Julii Cooper isn't there.
Cut to the party, where Julii Cooper is trying to convince Caesar that Brutus will betray him on Mommy's orders. Caesar refuses to get worried about it, denying that even Servilia hates him enough to want him dead: "Atia, you're a dramatist," he pooh-poohs. Julii Cooper says that she's warned him, and will say no more. I'll believe it when I see it. Walking past Octavia, she repeats to her wallflower daughter, "I warned him." See?
Julii Cooper has no sooner disappeared into the nearest doorway than Mark Antony appears at Octavia's side. He's had second thoughts about their breakup and wants Octavia to talk to her mother on his behalf, since he hasn't been able to get anywhere. Octavia sighs and says that there's no need, and not just because Julii Cooper has been lingering within earshot this whole time. "She is entirely infatuated with you," Octavia says. Julii Cooper immediately breaks cover, blustering, "That is a wicked, foolish lie!" Because she's just as bad at eavesdropping as she is at everything else that involves sneakiness. Mark Antony asks for a word, but Julii Cooper quickly and brazenly changes the subject, asking Octavia about a woman who's just walked in: "That creature over there, by the door. The beauty in the vulgar dress. Who is she?" Octavia correctly guesses that Julii Cooper is talking about Vorenus's wife, which is not much of a leap, considering that she came in on Vorenus's arm. Niobe is quietly gushing to her husband about the beauty of the house of Julii: "They've even painted the ceiling!" she marvels. Heh. Across the room, Julii Cooper is remarking to an abruptly-appearing Caesar, "She has a wonderful tang of the street about her." Caesar starts leading Julii Cooper over to the Vorenii, while Niobe quietly tries not to lose her shit. Caesar makes the introductions, and Julii Cooper asks of Vorenus, "How did a grim thing like you win such a flower?" Vorenus urbanely (for him) says that he found Niobe "when she was young and foolish." Caesar sends the ladies off to chat so that he can talk to his magistrate. "Who on Gaia's earth made this astonishing dress?" Julii Cooper asks. Niobe cops to it modestly. Julii Cooper's praise is just short of mocking. Unless, unlike Niobe, you know anything about her, in which case it's well past mocking and firmly in the territory of criticism.
Caesar and Vorenus take themselves off to a quieter part of the house for their talk, and Vorenus reports that Mascius accepted Pannonia for 12,000 denarii. Caesar thinks that's a good bargain. "I must send you to negotiate all my corruptions," he deadpans. Vorenus stiffly says he'd rather not, and Caesar says he was making a joke. "I understand," Vorenus lies. Sure he does. Lucius Hilarius, that's what they call him. Caesar can tell that the shady deal is still eating at Vorenus, so they sit down together on a bench. Caesar tells Vorenus that, in corrupting one man, he's "saved thousands from banditry." Vorenus seems relieved to accept that interpretation. Caesar commiserates by confessing that sometimes he wishes himself back in Gaul. "There's something pleasingly simple about warfare," he says. Especially when you never have to wage it onscreen.
Just then, Octavian enters, addressing Vorenus by name. Caesar pleasantly but firmly corrects the young man: "Magistrate Vorenus, if you please. He outranks you now." Octavian asks if it's true that Pullo is in the clink awaiting trial for murder. Although we never saw Vorenus receive word of such, he apparently did at some point. I get the sense that a couple of scenes were cut from this episode, which is weird because is came in at about fifty minutes. Whatever. Less recapping for me. ["And I got to go to sleep earlier, to have horrendous dreams of gory bloodshed. (Spoiler!)" -- Wing Chun] Vorenus confirms that it's true, and explains to Caesar that Pullo has been doing some freelance murdering. Octavian wants to know what can be done for his ex-mentor. Caesar has the answer: "Nothing." Caesar explains that the dead man was deputy chief of a nailmakers' union and, more relevantly, a vocal and popular critic of Caesar. "People will suspect I ordered his death," Caesar says; he doesn't want to give them more reason to think so. Octavian asks if it's true, and Caesar tells him, "I had no idea he existed until he didn't." He says he doesn't know why the man was killed, and Vorenus agrees that there are any number of possible reasons. Caesar says that the people will turn on him if he's seen to be sending soldiers out to murder his political opponents. Well, not if he murders enough of them. Octavian starts to suggest that he and Vorenus might do something, but Caesar nixes that for the same reason. Octavian asks if Pullo has any friends to speak for him, apparently not realizing that, counting himself, both of Pullo's friends are already present. Caesar rises (forcing Vorenus to stand as well, as etiquette dictates), telling Octavian that soldiers must learn that they're not above the law. He tells Vorenus he's sorry for Pullo's fate. Vorenus just looks grumpy, as always.
Inside, at the party proper, Niobe stands awkwardly outside a circle of laughing women, trying to keep up smile-wise. Vorenus comes up and says they can go if she likes. In fact, Niobe can't get out of there fast enough.
As the Julian slaves clean up after the party, Octavian accosts Castor and asks him to "bring Timon the Jew here" the morning. What's with the flogging of Timon's religion all the time, anyway? The show keeps going out of its way to make sure we know Timon is one of the Chosen People, but I can't imagine what kind of payoff it's going to have. Okay, I can imagine a few, but they're all offensive.
Julii Cooper makes her way to her bedchamber for the night, but not without a goodnight kiss that's initiated by Octavia. So I guess they've made up. Julii Cooper continues on her way, only to quickly find her path blocked by Mark Antony, who's lurking in the corridor. There's a little dance where she tries to step around him, but he matches her every move. He goes in for a kiss and gets slapped. He goes in for another kiss, and gets slapped again. And then Julii Cooper smiles at him, and they mack energetically. Aw, those crazy kids. How sad for them that they don't realize that the audience is rooting much harder for a certain other couple to get back together.
Niobe is also getting ready for bed, and she's holding her party dress out before her before getting under the covers. "I don't see what's wrong with it," she mutters. I have no doubt that that's true. She tosses it aside and lies down in bed, close to tears. Vorenus, already in bed, reaches out to comfort her. She blows out the candle before that can go any further. Vorenus doesn't say anything, but I'm pretty sure he knows exactly what's wrong. And it's not like it's something he can fix. This family is already an exceptional example of Roman class mobility as it is, I suspect.
Pullo is now doing his humming in an underground dungeon whose only entrance is a circular grate in the ceiling high above. It's a nice tune, but you can't dance to it.
Timon approaches the courthouse, where a whole lot of overly eager lawyers are milling around, waiting for someone to invent ambulances to chase. Absent that, they descend upon Timon immediately, crowding around him for the chance to get some work. One guy boasts that he could have Medea herself acquitted. Timon says he's looking for someone to represent Titus Pullo, and the mood changes immediately. "On your way, Jew," the guy says. "I'd rather suck Pluto's thorny cock." Timon takes out his purse and waves it around, but still the only taker is a young, dopey-looking guy who raises one tremulous finger.
Pullo's new lawyer takes a meeting with his client in a room that has amenities which Pullo's current quarters lack, like a door. He's trying to get Pullo either to roll over on whoever paid him, or to claim that he needed money to help a sick mother or a needy friend. "I needed money for wine," Pullo growls. The lawyer doesn't bother to ask if it was really good wine. Instead, he asks if Pullo has any friends who would speak for him. Pullo briefly stops masticating the hunk of bread he's worrying at, but doesn't speak. The lawyer persists, even though he's got the most uncooperative client ever. "Good bread, this," Pullo says. "Got any more?" The lawyer gives up, and a guard opens the grate to let him out.
Pullo is seen being put on trial in the Forum in front of a booing crowd. With a metal collar around his neck that has a chain on each side being held by a soldier, he's led up onto a platform and locked into a cage thereon. A court clerk-type makes some announcement about the nature of the trial, and the magistrate (who is not Vorenus, but an older guy with a boy-band haircut) steps up to ask who speaks for the dead man. An impressive-looking older guy stands and introduces himself. The crowd cheers, and then boos Pullo's lawyer. Except Timon, who just looks bummed. The magistrate gives the floor to the accuser, who makes a big speech about the horror of Pullo's crime, if not the surprising nature of it. "Wretched specimens like this are common as rats!" he thunders. He doesn't bother presenting any evidence. "Look at him...we all know he's guilty!" What a shame this guy was born too early for Fox News. In his cage, Pullo doesn't bother denying it.
Vorenus skulks up to the Forum and stands at the back of the crowd to watch. The hooded man in front of him turns, and it's none other than Mascius. "What are you doing here?" Mascius asks. "I thought Pullo was dead to you." "Dead to all soon," Vorenus says mildly. Mascius comments on Vorenus's coldness, but assures him that Pullo's not alone in any case. He gestures to another ex-soldier in the crowd, who nods in acknowledgement, and then Mascius shows Vorenus the sword he's got hidden under his cloak. Apparently, his plan is to wait until Pullo's taken down off the platform, whereupon Mascius and the other veterans will have themselves a little massacre in order to rescue Pullo. Alarmed, Vorenus orders Mascius to call the men off, saying there's more at stake than just Pullo's life. He pulls Mascius away from the crowd to explain that Caesar doesn't want to be blamed for the death of Pullo's victim: "He is trying to reestablish law and order. That won't work if his soldiers are seen to be killing citizens without consequence." Mascius protests that he himself will look bad if he calls the guys off now. "You could look far worse," Vorenus says. Mascius quickly realizes that Vorenus is threatening to blab about that bribe he took. "Look at us, brother," Mascius says sadly. "How has it come to this?" Vorenus shares Mascius's pain and shame, but rallies by rationalizing, "It's for the good of the Republic." Considering the kinds of crimes that argument has been used to justify throughout history, those of Vorenus and Mascius seem pretty minor. Let's just hope Vorenus is wearing spiked sandals so as not to lose his footing on the slippery slope he's walking. Mascius heads back to the crowd, remembering to turn and salute Vorenus as he does so. Vorenus is left there looking pained as Mascius leads his men away from the trial. Aw, cheer up, Vorenus. If the rescue attempt had been organized by someone besides Mascius, you would have been screwed.
The accuser is still holding forth, now about Pullo's refusal to say who paid him. Someone hollers out Caesar's name. The accuser says that there's no way to know, which only makes the crime worse: "Is there punishment enough for monsters such as this?" The crowd jeers some more while Vorenus and Timon look separately miserable. The prosecution rests. Pullo's lawyer stands up to speak, dodging thrown produce. He starts in about how Pullo is "a helpless servant" deserving of pity, which is probably exactly the opposite of what Pullo wants to hear said about him. But before the defense attorney can really get going, the magistrate interrupts to ask if the lawyer is claiming that Pullo is innocent. The lawyer stammers that he claims no such thing, and the magistrate says that means the trial's over. "Titus Pullo, condemned to death in the arena!" he announces to loud cheers. Vorenus, looking sad, walks away without Pullo's ever having known he was present.
At night, Caesar and Brutus are playing some version of chess while a servant holds a torch to illuminate the board. Caesar's opening is that he's always seen Brutus as a son. "Oh dear, one of those conversations?" Brutus remarks lightly. As he does so, he presses his advantage on the board, which is nothing compared to what's coming up. Caesar has a favor to ask of Brutus, "father to son." He wants to appoint Brutus as the governor of Macedonia. Amused, Brutus asks why Caesar would do that. Caesar says that Brutus is the right man for the job. "I can think of few men less right," Brutus responds. Caesar swallows his annoyance, and tells Brutus that he underestimates himself. "You might achieve great things if you would but try," he fluffs. "In Macedonia?" Brutus says, still smiling. "I think not." Caesar sits back in his chair and tells Brutus he needs someone he can trust. Brutus in turn sits back and asks Caesar, point-blank, "You need me out of Rome?" Caesar denies it. Brutus brings the conversation back to how much Caesar claims to trust him. "Am I wrong to do so?" Caesar asks. Brutus lunges for that opening, and gets Caesar to admit that Brutus has given him reason to doubt in the past. "You speak of years ago," Brutus says. Caesar asks, "Old betrayals do not signify?" Brutus says that he betrayed nothing: "Had you told me you were to march on Rome and asked me for my allegiance, I would have given it." Caesar begins to realize he may be outflanked, and tries to interrupt, but Brutus isn't having it. "You did not ask me for my allegiance," he reminds Caesar. "You demanded it a sword point. I betrayed nothing." Brutus has actually forced Caesar to retreat from his position and claim again that he trusts Brutus completely. Brutus: "So much so that you would send me from Rome to govern Macedonia?" Brutus once again refuses the appointment. Admirably keeping his temper in check, Caesar reminds Brutus that he has the legal power to insist. Brutus is finally raising his voice in anger. "As my father, I looked on you," he snarls. Caesar mildly says it's only for a year or so, "Until the city is stable." Brutus stands up to go (home, not to Macedonia) choking on his anger. Without getting up himself, Caesar yells, "Be reasonable! You're on every wall with a knife at my throat!" Brutus yells right back, "Only tyrants need worry about tyrant killers! And you are no tyrant! Haven't you told me so many times?" Check and mate, Jules. Caesar tersely dismisses Brutus, who leaves without another word. Caesar also sends away the torch-bearing slave, and he's left sitting in symbolic and literal darkness. Caesar's mistake, of course, is in not realizing that with all the pressure on Brutus to take Caesar down, the only thing holding the younger man in check was the obligation he felt as Caesar's friend. Taking that away is just the latest manifestation of the growing hubris that may or may not lead to Caesar's downfall, depending on whether you've read the spoilers. He's given Brutus precisely the excuse he's been waiting for.
It's daytime again, and Item #2 on this episode's list of things I didn't need to see is coming right up. Pullo picks up a cockroach that's skittering around on the dirt floor of his cell and holds it up between his cupped hands to the grate above him. He presents it as an offering to the gods, in exchange for long life for J. No, Vorenus, and all the Vorenii. And here's Item #2, as he squishes the bug, causing yellow goo to squirt out from between his meathooks. Yum. Right on cue, a guard lifts the grate and drops a rope ladder down to Pullo. Before climbing up, Pullo buries the crushed insect in the dirt floor.
Pullo is led into the crowded arena, his head shorn close and that collar around his neck again. This isn't the giant Roman Coliseum we all know, because it hadn't been built yet. In fact, it's got about the same floor size and capacity as a small-town high-school basketball court, except that here, they've left the huge puddles of blood on the ground. The ring is circled at intervals by heavy spiked columns, which may just be important later. Pullo's collar is removed and a sword is tossed at his feet before he's left to stand alone before the jeering crowd that surrounds the arena. He picks up the flimsy sword that was left for him, looks at it disdainfully, and then tosses it aside and just sits down in the dirt. And oh, how the crowd hates that. Up in the bleachers, we see Timon taking a seat. Nice of him to see this through. Or maybe he's just there for the snacks.
In Caesar's office, Posca presents himself at the boss's desk. Caesar hands over a small purse, and Posca's on his way. Aw, maybe Caesar had a change of heart about saving Pullo after all.
Back at the arena, three nasty-looking gladiators get up from the green room and walk out to surround the spot where Pullo's sitting. Vorenus arrives in the stands, rudely blocking some other paying spectator's view. Pullo has no idea that Vorenus is there, and he's telling his disappointed opponents that he has no plans to resist. And I guess it's not like they can make him. "I just want to die, all right?" Pullo says. "So come ahead and kill me and be done with it." "Bollocks," says the lead gladiator, poking Pullo in the shoulder with the tip of his spear. The youngest gladiator, on Pullo's right, tries to strike a compromise: "Look, just hold your sword...You don't have to run about or anything." The leader calls Pullo a "bloody Mollie," as are the whole Thirteenth Legion. And that gets Pullo's attention. "Don't talk of the Thirteenth," he says quietly with the beginnings of a dangerous look in his eye. But now the leader knows how to get to Pullo, and begins insulting Pullo's old legion in earnest. The crowd laughs, and the gladiators start getting into it, which is such a mistake. The younger gladiator begins laughing at Pullo as well, because we were starting to like that one a little bit and we're going to have to lose sympathy for him in a fast hurry, for reasons that are about to become abundantly apparent.
The lead gladiator says of the Thirteenth, "Why don't you all line up and suck my cock?" He tries to punctuate the sentiment with another spear-poke, but before he can get that far -- before he even gets to "cock," in fact -- Pullo has grabbed the spear out of his hands, and jabbed the butt end viciously into the leader's stomach. While the leader is doubled over in pain, Pullo drives the spear's point straight through the man on his left, then uses the shaft to lift him clear off his feet and throw the body at the third gladiator, who hasn't even stopped laughing by the time the gladiator-kabob is hurtling toward him. Pullo then kicks his feet out and sweeps the leader's feet out from under him, leaving the man sprawling flat on his back. One dead and two down before Pullo has even gotten up. And then the crowd's on its feet, roaring, and so is Pullo. He stomps on the leader's jaw. The younger man rushes from behind at Pullo, who simply whirls him around and sends him slingshotting into a far corner of the ring. Pullo picks up a dropped shield and brings the edge of it down on the leader's neck, cutting his head clean off. I don't know why I just said "clean off," because the camera is pointed straight down the severed neck stump, from which blood spews in sticky gobbets. "Jesus!" I say out loud. This is HBO, all right. The crowd goes wild, except for a stone-faced Vorenus. Now Pullo has a shield, and he picks up a decent sword as well in order to face off against the single surviving gladiator. Their shields and weapons clash, and the two seem to be fairly well matched -- at least, until Pullo traps his opponent's sword arm and slashes it off at the elbow. Then Pullo has a clear advantage. Timon screams his approval with the rest of the crowd. With no one left to kill, Pullo raises his arms and howls, "Thirteen!" at the crowd, many of whom start booing. One of the soldiers guarding the ring approaches Pullo, but quickly backs off when Pullo threatens him. And then the music starts getting all sad and mournful as more gladiators start pouring out of the green room. Pullo drops into a crouch, sending his first attacker flying over him to be impaled upside-down on one of those spiked columns. He closes with the rest of the gladiators, continuing to fight with a berserker rage. One of the fighters manages to wound Pullo in the back, and Vorenus cringes like the hurt is his own.
Posca walks through the streets of Rome. No hurry or anything, dudeus. Oh, and nice shot of the guy butchering a pig carcass in the background. Subtle, that.
Pullo swings and whirls and somersaults until he's down to one opponent again. He hurls the man to the ground.
Posca! Hey! I'm serious! Snap it up, here!
Pullo gets done bludgeoning his last man to death with another shield. Now there are at least seven corpses in there with him. Which is about six more than we've ever seen in a military battle scene throughout the series up to this point. Pullo tries to raise himself to his feet, but doesn't have the strength anymore. So he kneels and waves his sword and wails, "Thirteen!" Watching, Vorenus is overcome with emotion. All this time, he thought his friend was just a common killer. And now he's seen this whole other side of Pullo: that of the extraordinary killer. The crowd continues cheering.
And then the gate from the green room opens one last time. Someone holding an iron mace with a head shaped like a spiked skull walks deliberately out to the arena. Timon's cheers fall silent as he gets a look at the new arrival: a hulking giant of a man in leather shorts and a harness, whose eyes are dead from day after day of gladiating and night after night of shooting gay porn. Gayliath walks over to where Pullo is trying to crawl using the sword to support himself, and easily sweeps the weapon out from under him with the mace. Pullo keeps trying to crawl away. Gayliath kicks him in the ass, then pulls him up to his knees and spits in his face. He raises his mace to deliver the coup de grace, but Vorenus has seen enough.
Throwing off his cloak (and quite a bit more than that, in the symbolic sense), Vorenus jumps into the arena and pulls a sword out of the column it's stuck in. "Thirteen!" he bellows at Gayliath. Gayliath turns to meet this new threat, and now it's dinky little sword versus humongous mace for a few blows. Good thing Gayliath is pretty slow with that thing. Vorenus manages to block the worst of it with his sword, but he's still sent reeling more than once, and takes one of those spikes in the belly. The crowd boos Gayliath. Vorenus holds his sword up with both hands to block a sledgehammer blow aimed at his head. The sword should shatter from the force, or at least cut off his thumb, but the force only drives him to his knees, and Gayliath winds up for another strike. But while Vorenus is down there, he rolls and slashes his sword through 98% of Gayliath's leg just below the knee. "Gaaah!" I say out loud. ["It was hard for me to see that part through the quilt I had pulled up over my eyes. Gaaaaah." -- Wing Chun] And now it's Gayliath on his knees, one twisted and useless limb beneath him. Timon is literally jumping for joy. But Vorenus isn't about to wait around for his enemy to bleed out. Instead, he snatches the huge mace from his hand and goes around behind him. I'm expecting Vorenus to take a home-run swing that'll knock Gayliath's head into the parking lot, but he does nothing so prosaic. Instead, he raises the weapon high and jams the pointed and barbed handle into his enemy's shoulder. As Gayliath bellows in agony, Vorenus forces the ENTIRE HANDLE down into his body, all the way to Gayliath's fucking liver, so that the spiked metal skull head is poking out to the flesh-and-bone screaming one. That is the grimmest Zaphod Beeblebrox impression I've ever seen. "Holy shit!" I say out loud. Note to self: do not piss off Vorenus. Vorenus lets the body fall face-down in the dirt and goes to Pullo. He helps his old buddy to his feet and drags him from the arena as the crowd joyfully chants Pullo's name. I've seen slasher movies that were less graphic than that. And by the way, Posca? Thanks for nothing. Worst deus ex machina ever.
Since that last scene made me lose count on this episode's list of things I didn't need to see, I'll just say that this scene has the last one: Erastes Fulmen is chowing down on some eels. He and his henchmen have a little Pulp Fiction-type conversation about how eels disappear in the autumn for some reason, which is cut mercifully short by the arrival of Posca, who slams that purse down on the table. Oh, here he is. Fulmen bitches about Posca's lateness. Hey, imagine how Pullo feels. Posca's in no mood, and he gets right up in Fulmen's face to say, "If we employ you again? time, best not use veterans." Oh, Caesar, you sneaky bastard. Kind of interesting that he disavowed any knowledge of this to Vorenus and Octavian; I believed him simply because I didn't think he'd bother lying. Back in the present, Fulmen has the grace to look busted. Before heading back, Posca takes a long drink from a mug that's hanging from a chain connected to a post. He finishes and lets it swing free in a long slow-motion shot whose symbolically fraught significance escapes me entirely.
Servilia's weaving again. Except she's doing it by herself now. And that's still not a euphemism. Brutus has something to tell her. With his back to her, he quietly announces, "I owe Caesar no more friendship. I must do my duty." He looks like he's about to throw up, but no less resolved for that fact. Without a word, Servilia gets up and crosses to Brutus to take his hand. Brutus says he'll talk to Cassius to come up with a plan. Servilia puts a hand on his shoulder, and tenderly caresses the side of Brutus's face. See? She can be perfectly nice as long as she gets her way.