“It would be dangerous, Caesar; the praetorians are well affected to your majesty, and in these days when there are so many ambitious generals at the head of armies it would be unwise to anger them.”
“Then we will send them to the schools to be trained. Send this lad with the four best of the others to Scopus, and divide the rest among three other schools. The Romans have never seen such men as these in the arena. We must not spoil it by matching them at present with men whose skill more than makes up for their want of strength. Two years in the schools will make marvels of them. The lad will want more than that before he gains his full bulk and strength, but he will some day turn out such a gladiator as Rome has never seen; and if after a time we can find no champion to withstand him, we can match him against the lions. I will myself give Scopus orders concerning him.”
So saying he waved his hand. The guards closed round the captives and they were led away.
“What is it all about, Beric?” Boduoc asked.
“We are to go to the school for gladiators,” Beric said; “but as the emperor considers that you will all need two years’ training at the exercises before you will be fit to appear in the ring, we shall have time to think matters over. Much may happen before that. Nero may be liked by the mass of the people, but he is hated and feared, as I hear, by the upper classes. He may be assassinated or overthrown before that.”
“I don’t see that it will make much difference to us,” Boduoc grumbled.
“I don’t know that it would. At any rate we have time before us. We shall be well taken care of, well fed, and have plenty of exercise. Before now the gladiators have shaken Rome to its centre. What has happened once may happen again.”
As they passed along the streets of Rome the news that a party of fair haired giants were being escorted under a guard spread rapidly, and a crowd soon filled the streets. Windows opened and ladies looked curiously down at the procession. Beric marched at the head of his party, who followed four abreast, and their air of calmness and self possession, their proud bearing, and the massive strength of their figures roused the admiration of the multitude, who, on learning from the guards that the captives were Britons, greeted them with shouts of approval. So thick became the crowd before they reached their destination, that the Roman soldiers had difficulty in forcing their way through. As they turned into the street in which stood the great school of Scopus the crowd at once guessed the destination of the captives.
“By all the gods!” one of the lookers on said, “these fellows will furnish us with grand sport in the arena.”
“It is a shame to turn such grand looking men into gladiators,” a woman said.
“What, would you like to pick a husband out among them, dame?” the first speaker laughed.
“I would not mind. At any rate, I would prefer any of them to such an ill looking scarecrow as you,” she retorted. “It is bad enough when they kill off some of those Gauls, who are far too good for such work; but the best of them I have seen in the arena lacks six inches, both in height and breadth of shoulder, of these Britons.”
“Ah!” the man grumbled, “that is always the way with women; they think of nothing but strength.”
“Why shouldn’t we? Men think of nothing but beauty.”
And so, amid a chorus of remarks, for the most part complimentary, the Britons strode along, surrounded by their escort, until they reached the entrance to the school of Scopus. The master, attracted by the noise in the street, was standing at the entrance. He was a broad built man, but without an ounce of superfluous flesh, with muscles and sinews standing up in knots and ridges, and evidently possessed of extreme activity as well as strength.
“Nero has sent you five fresh scholars, Scopus.”
“By Hercules,” Scopus said, “they are splendid barbarians! Whence come they?”
“They are Britons.”
“Ah! Yes, Claudius brought back a few with him, but that was before I was here. I would they were all a few years younger. They are in their prime now; and to make a man first class, one should begin with him young. This youngster here is just the age. I warrant me there will not be many who can hold their own against him when I have trained him.”
“He is their chief,” the centurion said, “and speaks our language as well as you do.”
“That is good. I can speak a little Gaulish; but there is always trouble with newcomers from out of the way countries when we have no one who speaks their language.”
“Well, I will leave them with you; they are in your charge. I have the other fifteen to divide among three other schools.”
“I will take care of them,” Scopus said. “There is good feeding and good drinking here, and no one runs away. There is nowhere to run to, that is one thing. Still, what could a man want more than to be well housed, well fed, and have the companionship of plenty of good fellows? Don’t you think so?” and he turned to Beric.
“It is of no use asking for more if one is not likely to get it; certainly we might do worse.”
“Well, follow me,” Scopus said. “I will introduce you to your comrades.”
Beric and his companions took a hearty farewell of the others, Beric telling them that doubtless they would have frequent occasions of meeting; he then followed Scopus into a large hall. Here some forty or fifty men were assembled. Some were swinging weights round their heads, others were engaged at gymnastic exercises. Two men,
