“He is your new slave? Where is Rufus?” Caius asked as he considered Saul from head to feet.
“Yes, he is my father’s new slave; however, hold on before you think about being disrespectful to him. He is younger, but more educated than us.”
“A slave is a slave, no matter how educated he might be. He is coming to school with us?” he asked with a disparaging shade in his voice.
“Off with that tone, Caius, and yes, he is coming with us,” Flavius grunted.
Saul stood silent, not knowing how he should behave. Caleb probably forgot to tell him.
At that moment, the teacher appeared from a door on the opposite side of the room. He was a tall man on his forties, with a thin spidery figure. The wrinkles on his forehead lowered his eyebrows and gave him a perpetual disappointed expression, like a constant frown. This was enhanced by complete baldness.
“Hmm, three students, one of whom I don’t know. Who are you, son?”
“He is Saul, and he is my slave,” Flavius offered.
The teacher became serious and frowned even further giving him a devilish expression. “I don’t remember directing that question to you, Flavius Numida. Let the boy speak for himself. When I need something from you, I will ask you.” He turned to Saul. “Now, tell me, who are you?”
Saul felt intimidated by the teacher’s expression and didn’t know what he was supposed to answer anymore.
“Well, apart from my name and the fact I am Master Flavius’ slave, I guess there is not much else to say. I come from the Judea Province; my father was a merchant, and before we were brought here and sold as slaves, we were living in Jerusalem,” he answered, looking down.
“You mean Aelia Capitolina, Saul,” corrected Caius with a teasing tone in his voice.
“I-I, yes,” he replied in a low tone of voice.
“So, we have a student from Jerusalem. That is interesting. Are you ashamed of your roots, son?” he asked, emphasizing the name of the city.
Saul studied his feet. He certainly felt ashamed; however, he felt more humiliated at admitting in front of people like Caius that he was a creature, considered inferior by every Roman citizen. It did not matter whether Flavius treated him like a friend; he knew that he was his Master, and there could never be a fair, egalitarian relationship like the one he probably shared with Caius.
The old teacher’s face relaxed into an almost humane expression. “Saul, in this class there are no masters or slaves. What I see are three young boys willing to become educated, successful adults, nothing more,” he explained, glancing with a severe stare at Caius.
“Yes, teacher.” Caius pulled a face, looking up impatiently.
The older man returned his attention to Saul. “I suppose you can speak Greek as well,” he asked, switching languages.
“Yes, Sir, I can,” he responded in Greek.
“Very well. We can start the lesson, even if the other two students are, as usual, late. Take your seats.”
As he gestured for Saul to sit beside Flavius, Antonius and Julius ran into the room, with flushed faces and huffing.
“Where are your manners? You don’t come inside other people’s houses running like Hades is chasing after your souls,” the teacher thundered.
“We are sorry, Teacher.”
“You will remain longer this afternoon so you can think about the meaning of being on time for your duties.”
Antonius winked at Julius, and he smiled. They sat down, not even noticing the new student.
“By the way, as you might have already perceived, there is a new student with us. His name is Saul. I hope you will accept him and give him all due respect. Now we can start the lesson.”
Julius flashed a smile that Saul felt was more valuable than any words. Antonius cast a quick glance in his direction, then gave him a quick look, but he turned his gaze downward as the teacher turned to face him.
In the late afternoon, class was dismissed, except for Julius and Antonius.
Caius gave just a brief sign with his hand and left, in the direction of the Thermae, where he used to spend his after school. He wasn’t impressed by Saul, but something in that slave made him smile, as he walked the streets.
“I’m sorry you have to remain longer,” Saul said to Julius.
“Antonius and I, we often arrive late. Every day, we meet in the Forum so we can walk to school together. On our way, there is a merchant who sells the sweetest dates in all of Rome. You have to try them.”
“But then you will be late again,” Saul observed.
“Trust me, it’s worth it. See you tomorrow.”
As the boys walked away from the school, Flavius asked, “What do you think about your first day? You seem to have sympathy for Julius,”
“The teacher reminds me of the one I had when I was at home. I guess they all look and behave the same. He was always disappointed for some reason. I never saw him smile. And, yes, Julius seems to be a kind person, more so than Caius. I can’t yet have any opinion about Antonius.”
“Caius wants to show himself as a tough guy, but he is not too bad. He just does not trust people at first, particularly Rome’s enemies, which, in this case, is you. You were brought here as a slave because your people were our enemies.”
Saul mulled it over. He found it difficult to consider himself or his people as enemies of Rome. They had been conquered; from his point of view, Rome was the enemy.
“Concerning Antonius,” Flavius continued, “he is a really shy person and entirely dependent on Julius. He does exactly what he says; it seems like he needs a leader and found the right one in Julius. I don’t know what he will become as an adult, maybe a soldier, but I’m afraid he’s not brave enough. Well, we’ll see.”
“What would you like to be?” Saul asked.
“Me? I think I’d like to grow as a man of the law, a lawyer or a judge, although, I’m fascinated by the diplomatic careers too… We’ll see. At the moment, I am curious to see how skillful you are on horseback.”
“I am keen on showing you.”
They walked for about half an hour before arriving at the family farm, and they could get rid of the tablets they were carrying.
A slave emerged from a horse stall, “Good afternoon, Master. Are you here to ride?”
“Yes, we’d like the best horses available. This is Saul, he is my father’s new slave.”
“Good afternoon, Saul,” the slave glanced at Saul, with a hint of curiosity, and greeted him as he led them into the stables. The scent of the hey together with the smell of the horses and their feces, triggered in Saul old memories about the animals of a close-by farm. Those images vividly returned in front of his eyes like he was magically brought back to his home. Saul deeply inhaled with a smile on his face.
“You can choose the one you prefer,” the slave’s voice interrupted Saul’s thought, bringing him abruptly to his reality.
Saul looked around disoriented, and with a sigh, he watched Flavius approaching the stalls.
Flavius poked his head over the door of each stall, then pointed to a chestnut gelding near the end. “I’ll take Adorantus this time. Dilectus seems to be tired today. Saul, come and choose yours.”
Saul approached each stall, peeking inside and looking carefully at each horse. After a couple of rounds, he decided upon a black mare “I’ll take this one. What’s its name?”
“She is Puerina, and she has a great character. She will be gentle if you are not an experienced horseman,” Flavius replied with a daring tone in his voice.
As the slave approached with a saddle, Saul said, “Don’t bother with mine. I can prepare it myself.”
After a few minutes, they rode together into the woods. The sense of freedom given by the wind through his hair and the feeling of competition with Flavius brought him to smile and chuckle.