"Stop!" Tiberius called. He looked at the boy. "Why did you do that?"
"I saw his eyes," Gaius replied calmly. "I knew. ."
"I see," Tiberius interrupted. He turned his eyes towards the Grammaticus. "You must be a good swordsman," he mused. "Give him your sword and shield, boy." Gaius handed the items over to his now bemused and fearful teacher. "Now," Tiberius said in a droll tone, "at last we can have some fun. Boy, your domain is that mosaic you're standing on, bounded by the brown border. You understand that?"
"Yes, Princeps."
"You will fight your Grammaticus," Tiberius said with a shrug. "If you leave your domain, you lose, and may make no further defence." He turned towards the Grammaticus and said, "You may use any amount of the floor you like. The boy may not follow you off his domain, and if you win, you can do what you like with him. Rape him there on the floor. Split his little arse, what do you say, Little Boots?" He turned with a sneer towards the younger man to his side, who looked a little bemused. "Oh, come, come, Little Boots, it's what you'd do, so don't sit there and snivel!" He turned back towards Gaius, and said calmly, "You don't get a shield, either. So you stand there looking stupid, and he'll smash you to pulp. Run, and Little Boots here'll hold you down, and when your Grammaticus is finished, he'll have his hour or so. Understand?"
Gaius stood there. He glanced towards his family, who were terrified. He remembered what Libo had said, and he was not to be cowed. "Yes, Princeps."
"And just what exactly do you think you're doing?" Tiberius sneered as the Grammaticus had begun to advance. "Eager to start, eh? I like that!"
"Please, Princeps, don't. He's only a boy. Let me. ." Gaius' father pleaded.
"Quiet!" Tiberius roared. "Now, young Gaius, you told me you had been taught by one of my old legionnaires?"
"Yes, Princeps."
"Why did he bother with the likes of you?"
"My father gave him some land and helped him," Gaius replied. "He felt he owed, and he said a debt should always be repaid."
"Did he now," Tiberius snorted. "And I suppose he thinks I owe him?"
"He did say so," Gaius admitted.
"And he gave you some instructions?"
"Yes, Princeps."
"But you're not going to claim the debt? You're going to stand alone?" Tiberius scowled.
"The debt is to him, not to me," Gaius said simply.
"I see," Tiberius said simply. "Then we shall start. You know the rules boy? Good! Centurion! Give the boy a gladius." Tiberius turned to the boy and explained, "Your life's on the line, and the lives of your family are on the line. Lose, and they can become briefly familiar with the cliffs and what's below. You have no shield, so you can't defend forever. But you have steel, and you'll have to use it. The question is, can you kill when it counts?"
Gaius looked startled, then took the gladius. It had virtually the same weight as his practice sword, but it was a little better balanced. He looked towards the now fearful Grammaticus, and took a position two thirds as far as he could get from him and remain in his territory.
"Afraid, boy?" Tiberius snorted.
"I wish to have room to attack," Gaius replied simply.
"Well?" Tiberius snorted at the Grammaticus, who was now standing petrified. "You were rather keen a few minutes ago, and you did, after all, thrash the boy at practice. You've got a shield. Get on with it."
The Grammaticus stared balefully at the gladius, and remained transfixed.
"I see," Tiberius shrugged, after a few minutes in which nothing happened. "Young Gaius, you seem to have your Grammaticus petrified with fear. So, give the gladius back to the Centurion."
Gaius nodded, and handed the gladius back, and was surprised to see the Centurion give him a wink and a grin.
Tiberius turned his attention back to the Grammaticus, and said in a tone of one who was becoming quite tired of this situation, "I gather you disturbed Little Boots yesterday. Little Boots, afterwards, thrash him, but let him live. Understand?"
"Yes Princeps."
"Now, what to do with this family. You," Tiberius said, looking at Gaius' father, who was standing unbowed, "You helped one of my old legionnaires, so you've at least done something right. I understand you want to restore the Republic?"
"I believe the principles of the Republic are what Rome needs," Gaius' father said simply, "without, of course, the civil wars. I think. ."
"I agree with you," Tiberius interrupted, "and, when his ego didn't get in the way, so did Augustus. Does that surprise you?"
"It does."
"Let me ask you this, then," Tiberius continued, "Why hasn't the senate restored the Republic? I've done my level best to help them. I've left Rome, and I won't be back. I've left everything in the senate's hands, and what does the senate do? The odd one like you asks why we can't have a Republic, and the other sycophantic arseholes send their secret little reports here, and begging letters, asking what I want. They won't do anything without clearing it with me first. Is that not a true assessment of the situation?"
"I suppose so," came a subdued reply. There was little doubt in Rome that the remaining senators were only interested in maintaining their own personal fortunes.
"So you see," Tiberius continued wearily, "the return of the Republic is almost impossible because the people needed to make it work can't get off their arses and do anything. The Principate is necessary, simply because everybody wishes to have an authority to lean on." He stared at Gaius' father, who said nothing, although the expression on his face showed that he conceded the truth of what Tiberius was saying. "Look, go back to your estate, and stop trying to subvert what I'm doing. If you've got a reasonable scheme to bring back the Republic and enough support to make it work, let me know and I'll put it in place. Understand?"
Gaius' father nodded. Gaius knew there would be no such schemes. Nobody would allow his name to be put on a list to go to Tiberius. Tiberius might or might not permit a return to the Republic, but if he did not, banishment for the names on the list could be one of the more pleasant likely outcomes.
"The Republic was a great concept," Tiberius continued, almost to himself, "provided everyone wanted it to work. But to work, decisions have to be made, and they have to be made for the good of Rome, and not for personal gratification, or to pay off the debts arising from the bribes incurred to get there in the first place. Whatever else, Roman must never again kill Roman. You do at least agree with that?"
"Yes, Princeps," Gaius' father replied. This he did believe, as did all other Romans.
"You're not such a bad family," Tiberius shrugged. "Just not very useful. You were probably all scared stiff about coming here," he growled, "except you, boy." He turned to Gaius. "You weren't, were you?"
"No, Princeps."
"Your old soldier, Libo, he told you things about me didn't he?"
"Yes, Princeps."
"Which you won't repeat here?" Tiberius smiled.
"No, Princeps."
"Some of the things weren't very flattering?"
"Er, no, Princeps."
There was a murmur of disapproval from those at the back of the room, but Tiberius just laughed. "Tell me one phrase, young Gaius. That's an order."