Roman Identity (Book 2)

Lessons to Learn

"Make the Acertius family proud."

"I will try." Once inside the shop, I skirted past the rows of tables, stools, and stacked chairs still coated in sawdust. I hesitated outside the curtains towards the back of the shop. Behind the curtains was the voice of a man giving instructions in a thick Greek accent. After taking a deep breath, I pulled back the curtains and tiptoed into the classroom. A few familiar faces from the gymnasium were sprinkled around the classroom, including Marcus. One of the boys looked up from his tablet, and when he spotted me scouring the classroom, a small grin cracked his face. Romeus. It was as if he was silently inviting me to come take a seat, even though Julius and Silus already occupied space to his right and left. Realizing there was no seat in his row or any of the wooden benches, I paced to the front row, where I found an opening on the bench. With the instructor's back to the class, I scurried to the empty seat.

My buttocks barely grazed the bench when he turned around. "So good of you to join us, Troy. I have heard some things about you." I slumped in my seat. A lump formed in my throat at his fixed glare. I feared that Anias had shared his report with my new instructor. My tutor had warned me before we arrived that the teachers in a classroom setting were even stricter than him. Stricter? I thought about the times my brothers and I had private sessions with Anias before they were sent to higher schooling. Barbarius dreaded lessons the most as a child. With his pent-up vigor, he was restless for excitement. After several beatings, he eventually obliged to endure the long, tiring sessions and even did well, particularly in mathematics. I cringed at the thought of being flogged in front of the class for being late. I was already off to a horrid start.

He leaned in close enough that I could taste his breath. "Next time, come a little earlier to my class."

I almost fell backward trying to escape the garlic reeking from his mouth.

"Class, we have a new member. His name is Troy. Like Helen of Troy." All eyes fell on me as if I was an alien resident. "So, get acquainted with your new pupil," he continued in an upbeat tone. He spared me the rod. Thank the gods above I am the King's son!

"Now we will begin our lesson discussing the structure of language. We must observe the rules of grammar that govern our language in every facet of our writings, including literature. For instance, what is the case of the Greek work Aeneid, for instance?"

I had just studied that last week, but the answer eluded me now. As the instructor paced up and down the rows of benches, I looked back at Alexander. I wished he could sneak me a copy of my earlier grammar lessons, but they relegated him to sit in the back row with the other attendants.

The instructor strolled back to the front. I whipped out my stylus and etched the first thing to spring in my head onto the waxy surface. Some other boys were quick to raise their hands in the back while I covered the tablet with my hands.

"Troy, do you have an answer?" I froze at my instructor's words. "Surely you must have an answer for such a simple question."

"I think it was in the genitive case."

"You are right. Well done."

I sighed in relief.

"See, you knew the answer. Do not be afraid to say it."

I could feel my face blushing as my lips parted into a grin. I was lucky on that one!

"Does anyone remember the rhyme scheme of the poem we discussed the other day?" The teacher indiscriminately called on a round-faced pupil who looked no older than thirteen to recite the poem. Before he could finish reciting the verses, I immediately recalled the answer. A few hands went up. I thought about it and inscribed it on the tablet. I raised my hand.