"What's your part in this, Tribune? What areyour thoughts about it?"
He looked startled at my question.
"My thoughts?" he asked cautiously, and Iknew he was stalling for time as he tried to think of an answerthat would be appropriate and not provoke me.
"Yes, your thoughts," I repeated, but mypatience was wearing thin and I let it show. "As I recall, when weparted, you swore an oath to me that if I ever needed your help,you would give it. Well." I held out my hand towards him insupplication. "I'm asking."
Claudius' expression was very much like thatof a trapped animal, but I felt no pity for him. At this point, Iwas more concerned with gaining a true understanding of mysituation and what my options were than worrying about hisfeelings.
Claudius swallowed hard before he spoke."Prefect, I want to assure you that I had nothing to do with whatmy father's doing. In fact, he and I have had several violentarguments about it."
Scribonius had been silent, but he broke into ask, "Did you assure your father that neither you nor he hasanything to fear from the Prefect in regards to the...incident withNatalis?"
Even in the dim light, I saw the flush riseup from Claudius' neck at the mention of his involvement with thedisgraced Primus Pilus of the 13th Legion, who had beenreplaced by Flaminius.
Nevertheless, his tone was even as hereplied, "Yes, Scribonius. I've assured him many, many times aboutthat very thing, that the Prefect was one of the most honorable menI've ever met." He did turn to look me in the eye as he said this.If I had been in a better frame of mind, I would have appreciatedit more. "But this isn't just about that...incident, as you callit."
"What's it about, then?"
Now I was completely mystified, but Isuppose I should not have been.
Heaving a deep sigh, Claudius, who had beenlooking me in the face, suddenly turned away as he said, "It'sabout you, Prefect. Or," he amended, "more accurately, what yourepresent."
"Ah," I heard Scribonius say softly, and Isaw him nod his head.
"I'm glad you understand, because I surelydon't," I snapped, irritated in equal measure at what Claudius hadsaid and at myself for not comprehending whatever it was thatScribonius had divined.
Before Claudius could continue, Scriboniusbroke in, "Forgive me, Claudius, but may I take a stab at what Ithink the root of the problem is?"
Claudius did not reply, but answered with anod as he closed his eyes, as if he did not want to witness whatwas coming.
"Titus," Scribonius said gently. "It's aboutyour elevation to the equestrian status. Apparently, Claudius'father doesn't approve, to a degree where he wants to actually takesteps to block you." Turning to Claudius, Scribonius asked, "Do Ihave the rights of it, Claudius?"
"Yes, you do." Claudius' voice was barely awhisper, and I was struck that if he were only acting about beingupset, he was doing a commendable job, because he looked genuinelysorrowful. "My father is an old Roman, in every sense of the word.He's been violently opposed to the idea of allowing men of thePrefect's class elevating themselves, and has let Augustus know it.But my father, who is wise in many things, is blinded by the past."Claudius' mouth twisted into a grimace as he continued. "Because weneed to fill the ranks of all of the upper classes back up afterthe proscriptions and the civil war. And it's the equestrian classthat was hit the hardest. As it is, Augustus is being forced toelevate men from equestrian into the next class, which creates evenmore of a need for new knights." He shook his head in frustration."Which is something I've told my father more times than I cancount, but he won't budge. The fact that there's this...othermatter is just an extra bonus as far as he's concerned. Frankly, Idon't think it's the supposed threat you pose that's what's behindhis determination to destroy you. I think it's using you as anexample to others of what happens when men get ideas above theirstation."
When Claudius finished, I did not speak, nordid anyone else for some time. Well, I thought, at least I know whyClaudius looked so mournful; it had nothing to do with theinjustice being done to me and everything to do with the fact thatsome matter of principle is more important to his father than hisown son.
It was Diocles that broke the silence.
"And what of your vow to my master? Doesn'tthat mean anything to you?"
Both Claudius and Lucullus reacted to thischallenge, the former taking a step forward towards Diocles whilethe latter uttered a curse. Claudius only took that first step;seeing my face and understanding that he would be dead in a matterof moments if he tried to hurt my little Greek was enough to stophim.
"How dare you?" he hissed instead,with fists balled up in ultimately impotent rage. "Who are you toremind me of my vow, slave?"
"First, he's not a slave," I spoke forDiocles. "And second, he's just being loyal. You know, like when aman saves another man's life, even if it was in his interests tolet him die instead?"
If I had slapped Claudius, I do not believeI would have done more to gain his attention and regain controlover the situation. Suddenly, all the fight seemed to flee fromhim, and his shoulders slumped as he dropped his head, eyes shutagain.
"You're...right," he said finally. "I oweyou my life. And I owe you a debt that honor demands I repay." Helifted his head to look me squarely in the eye. "But if you'llremember, Prefect, I once told you that I know I'm not the man youare, nor am I a particularly strong man. The truth is that I fearmy father, at least as much as I fear...and respect, you." He gavea shrug that expressed all the helplessness we both felt. "He's thepaterfamilias, and he's demanded that my cousin and I obeyhim."
Seeing that I was going to get nowhere withClaudius, I looked over to Lucullus, who looked no lesshelpless.
"What if you told him you changed your mind?That you wanted to make your own name?" I suggested, but even as Isaid it, I knew how ridiculous an idea
