He's made offerings to Janus faithfully -- that is, as best he can, when he's got the time and the coin. Seeing the past for the future, that's something important. A good fighting man collects all the chips and splinters of his past to fashion a shield for himself.
Still, fuck Janus for a pinch-nosed bastard, because what's he ever done for Titus Pullo? Where was he that night under the streets when Pullo was slicing away fingers that dropped into the stream of sewage filth with unmistakable plish noises, and why didn't he mention that the fig-mouthed little noble watching the proceedings would one day be the first emperor of all Rome? Why not a hint of him when that she-wolf Gaia was putting silphium to Eirene's lips and sending poison trails to consume her womb? Why didn't Janus intervene that hot night in the carved ivory temple of the Egyptian queen, preventing Pullo from quickening her womb with the flint-eyed brat who's only just starting to lose his fine airs?
That last one, though. The boy is sleek and brown and grows like a grapevine in the warm olive oil of good Roman sun, and even if he sometimes mewls for how things were in Egypt, he's showing more interest in swords and bread and women lately and wanting Pullo's advice on all three. So not so bad, Janus, on that count.
Still. These things considered, it might be forgiven should Pullo bring his flowers and water to Porrima, instead, and to Hades with looking backward at all.
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He's made offerings to Janus faithfully -- that is, as best he can, when he's got the time and the coin. Seeing the past for the future, that's something important. A good fighting man collects all the chips and splinters of his past to fashion a shield for himself.
Still, fuck Janus for a pinch-nosed bastard, because what's he ever done for Titus Pullo? Where was he that night under the streets when Pullo was slicing away fingers that dropped into the stream of sewage filth with unmistakable plish noises, and why didn't he mention that the fig-mouthed little noble watching the proceedings would one day be the first emperor of all Rome? Why not a hint of him when that she-wolf Gaia was putting silphium to Eirene's lips and sending poison trails to consume her womb? Why didn't Janus intervene that hot night in the carved ivory temple of the Egyptian queen, preventing Pullo from quickening her womb with the flint-eyed brat who's only just starting to lose his fine airs?
That last one, though. The boy is sleek and brown and grows like a grapevine in the warm olive oil of good Roman sun, and even if he sometimes mewls for how things were in Egypt, he's showing more interest in swords and bread and women lately and wanting Pullo's advice on all three. So not so bad, Janus, on that count.
Still. These things considered, it might be forgiven should Pullo bring his flowers and water to Porrima, instead, and to Hades with looking backward at all.