Coriolanus Act 4.3.2

Scene 4.3.2

A reflective journey

Coriolanus opened his eyes to the humming sounds of the forest. He stared into the canopy of leaves and braced himself for an assailant to descend on him, but there was none. It was all peaceful, no sentries and no blaster held close to him. He was alone, and in a world unlike the one he was used to for the last twenty over years. He turned his head to look at the trees and saw they were still standing tall but some had blaster marks on it. He remembered this place; it was one of the Volsces outposts which they had surprised during a routine patrol. It was early dawn when the eight man patrol led by him attacked the twenty over Volsces still in their tents. They had removed the two sentries with throat cuts, and then the silent setup of the cross fire to ensure no Volsces could escape. It was a massacre with none of his men suffering any wounds. He recalled Cominius telling him; if only we could lay such attacks we would be back before the winter season starts.

It was then and with the war over, the forest had reclaimed its position of peace and abundance of small creatures that came to feed on the nature offerings. Coriolanus then recalled he had little of his own offerings; living off the grid took toll on him with his limited supplies. He was not armed with any blasters but a dedicated dagger, and that was no hunting tool when the creatures of the forest are wiser from the years of hunting. He need to find more food, and if he recalled well, he was then in Volsces land.

Coriolanus had done more than three months of wanderings, but the initial walk through his own land was marked with violence and distaste of the Commoners. The words had traveled fast to them, on his disgrace and hell awaits him on the journey. When he came by the towns or villages, the folks there lined up to spat or throw their litters at him. He asked for protection from the local enforcers but none approached him. Nobles of his own breed shuttered their windows and doors to his pleas.

Coriolanus was a bastard in his own land. He was made to plea for his needs. Some men; braver than others or fools in the making rushed at the trained soldier to rain their anger on, but with the single ones, he could fight, but when a group comes forth, he chose to run for fear of his life. Nothing would have angered him more than the ladies who bared their bosoms to him and called him a ‘child killer’.

“I won’t have you suckle mine when you taken what was mine.” The ladies taunted him. Even his wife image was given morphing of indecent acts that revolted him. He felt all the shame bellowed by them, and choose to divert his journey to the forest. There he found peace and ease of movements.

It was in the end of the first month, he found the battle site of his, and from there he trailed the path of the war till that morning. He had seen the carnage of the war, the destruction of its produce, and above all the unmarked graves. He recalled a few which he had personally dug to bury the ones he had befriended. There was one event which he recalled vividly. It was on the wall of a village home, and read; “CAIUS, you murderer.” Murderer? Me? He recalled he was no murderer. He may have killed many but murder was never his intention. He killed as a soldier called to duty to defend his country. He only killed when ….needed. Coriolanus paused in those thoughts then. He looked to the graffiti and spat at it.

“You are the murderer of my name. You were never a soldier. You don’t know what we are to do, but you murdered our soldiers because we are defending our land.” Coriolanus cursed at the one who wrote those words. He had wished then he had actually killed that bastard. He looked to the village home and stormed in. It was empty but he tore it regardless. He was upset that he was branded a murderer. He saw the family photo on the living room mantle. It was a simple Volsces portrait of the parents and their only son.

“Bastards!  Like the Commoners. You fashioned your thoughts just to blame the Nobles.”

Since that day, he had taken to avoid the battle sites or villages. He had kept his wandering deeper into the forest. With his supplies low, he needed to find replenishment or hunt. He was doing that the last week, but his dagger was like a blunt needle trying to sew a dress. He must find some villages to get food. With that, Coriolanus pulled him up and staggered into the general direction where he might find food. Soon he did at the edge of the forest, when he eyed a solitary house. It was an old rickety wooden hut with a front porch and the chimney was smoking. He made his way to the house and was greeted by an old man with his walking stick.

“Ain’t seen anyone for ages since the war?” The old man leaned back on his chair by the dining table while Coriolanus wolfed down the servings. The old man had lived alone since his wife died a year ago. He had lived off the land and hunted for his meat. He was friendly and offered food to the starving man.

“Are you a soldier?” The old man suddenly asked. He did not wait for the reply and continued on. “I was too. Second Armored Division, but we got wiped out soon after. I was one of the remaining ones, which managed to escape. I took off before the Romans came looking for survivals. I hid out at the forest and then came back here. The old lady was still here…”

“Hum…” Coriolanus mumbled with his mouth full before he reached for the home brewed drink. The old man stopped talking while Coriolanus took his drink. “Was she alive?”

“My old lady was still alive and kicking. She had defended the house with her own weapons of pitch fork and kitchen knives.” The old man laughed. “No one would harm her with her age and limping left leg. She was unhurt but shaken at times by the atrocities of those who came. They may be Romans or Volsces, not all of them are kindly but I was thankful no one killed her.”

Coriolanus had lost interest in his food. He had his filled and recalled his own atrocities then. It was war which he defended himself, but there were times, he had done worse things that a person could do to one another. The torture for information on the Volsces was the worse but a needed exercise. He swore to himself, he did not bow to the point of degrading himself on any Volsces, but there were some of his men who were Commoners who did that. Yes, it was the bastards Commoners who knew no decency of rights.

“How did she die?” Coriolanus asked when he recalled his own wife. He felt sad that all these years of marriage, he had never enquired on her love for him, besides her devotion as wife and mother, and daughter in law to his mother.

“She stepped into a mine.” The old man sighed. “It was there for months, and she had to step there.”

“I am ….sorry.” Coriolanus brought himself to utter those words.

“Sorry, never be.” The old man replied. “We did not start the war. It was the ones who sit behind the people who called for it and moved us to the front. We are the fodders of the country. Yours and mine…”

“Mine? You knew I am a Roman?” Coriolanus stepped up from his chair.

“Aye, I knew from the moment you sat down. Colonel Martius. You may hide your face with the dirt and beard, but in the war, we all looked like that. I recalled your face in Corioli.” The old man replied. He then motioned with his hand to Coriolanus. “Sit down, sir. There is no more war now. We are friends once again. I care not for the country lest than its ambition.”

“But I am …” Coriolanus was being cautious and wary of the old man.

“Roman, Volsces, Gauls, whoever. Commoners, Nobles, and even slaves.” The old man laughed. “We are all blood and 

flesh, but we were told to be different. Your Nobles told you so that they can be Nobles. Mine are different; we are one and yet we held the others outside of our borders as …others. Undeserving ones to be with us. It’s all in the mind of the ones who planted it there. We were the fools to live with their mindset.”

“No….No….” Coriolanus stepped back. His hand went for the dagger, but he did not draw it. “We …are different.”

The old man stood up and used his walking cane to balance himself before he replied,

“All men are equal, they said, but we stand on different levels of the ground.” The old man told Coriolanus. “You had your fill and may leave now. I think we stood on different levels for now but I hoped one day you will see mine at the same height.”

The old man walked to the bag that he had filled.

“On your journey in Volsces land, you may need to have food. These are the ones I could spare. Please take it and leave. I will retire to bed now.” The old man left Coriolanus alone in the living area.

“I…” Coriolanus mumbled but he could not move. He felt in him anger like when he was at war; when he was confronting the Commoners, like when he was to be Consul. But then inside him, he also felt a sense of emotions to those words spoken by the old man.

Maybe the old man was right but he needed time to think.

“Mother, where art thou?” Coriolanus mumbled once again.