The journey could have been shorter if they traveled by the Ionian Sea, but it was impossible for Arete to return to Syracuse. They had to travel by land, to Brentesion, and took a shorter sea route to Apollonia. When they reached the land, they had to travel another week to their destination.

By the time they arrived at Thebes, their horses were exhausted. Arete lifted a gold medallion with the symbol of a Boeotian shield in front of the city-gate. That was one of the three items in the pouch which Chlorus passed to her on the day they escaped. A letter written by Lord Amiran, that medallion, and an unknown key.

The guards saw the medallion and they immediately opened the gates for them. They recognised that item which once belonged to a Theban noble woman, the daughter of Lord Vitellus of Thebes, the leader of their city-state. It is a place blessed by Dionysus, the image of their pantheon carved on the other side of that medallion.

Arete knew the reason behind her father's instruction. This place was where her mother came from. Lord Vitellus was Arete’s maternal grandfather, but she had never been close to that side of her relatives.

The obese old man wearing shinny ornated fine silk rushed towards the city gates.

“Oh, Arete, my sweet grandchild, you must be tired and hungry! It must have been a long journey! Servants! Quick! Go prepare a feast for my Arete.” He ordered in a breathy panting voice. A big smile etched on his face.

“Yes, my Lord!” The servants replied. They offloaded their horses.

Arete showed Vitellus the pouch, with the letter, the medallion and the key. His expression changed when he saw the key. He knew something bad had happened.

Staring at the key, he paused, and took a deep breath. “My child, come, follow me…”

They walked into the temple of Dionysus, through the grand hall, where the Thebans were having a feast, drinking and singing. There was plenty of food on the table. Gold, silver and jewels all over the floor, but nobody cared. They were all enjoying their moments having scrumptious meals. Chubby little children were running around, playing and laughing.

Image of Syracuse city appeared in Arete’s mind. The children of Syracuse loved to play hide and seek too... She bit her lips, trying to stop her mind from thinking about her home.

They walked through the grand hall, entering the kitchen. It was larger than their grand hall. The chefs and cooks were all busy, all the ingredients were plenty and the meats were fat. They seemed happy cooking, as every day they had feasts and banquets to serve.

They continued to walk and entered the library. It was the loudest place there. They had a performance. A group of large men were dancing on stage, and suddenly they stripped away their clothes! They were not particularly good looking, but everybody was cheering loudly. Arete looked away as the scene was too obscene to her.

Vitellus stopped in front of a large shelf. He pulled out a scroll, and the cupboard opened to a secret path. They walked into the path and arrived at a door. Vitellus used the key to unlock it. Flashes of childhood memories returned to Arete’s mind. The door opened to a simple but large bedroom full of scrolls. It was the place where Arete spent most of her time before she was six.

“It had been a while, a little dusty but the servants will prepare this place for you in no time!” “Servants!” Vitellus shouted and the servants ran into the room, cleaning and decorating the place. They brought in silks and fruits and various items.

Arete remembered her days in this room, she was always there when she was young. They never allow her to leave. She looked at Vitellus with a confused expression. Vitellus noticed that.

“This place is safe, don’t worry, Arete.” Vitellus said.

But his words did not answer the question in Arete’s mind. Why did Amiran want her to be in Thebes? In his letter, he wanted her to make a decision, but what were the options for that decision he wanted her to make? Perhaps there were no options for her at all. He probably just wanted her to be safe. As she clearly remembered that he kept her in this room to avoid Claudius, the former Caesar who wanted to take her life for being born a premature baby.

“You! Don’t just stand there! Go help out other servants!” Vitellus waved his hand towards Matea, who had followed Arete all the way throughout her journey. She followed the order and started to join the other servants to clean up the place.

“Arete, tell grandpa what you need and what you want! You may have whatever you ordered. I will arrange ten maids, twenty servants and a hundred guards for you.”

“I can’t…” Arete mumbled.

“What? What is it my dear?”

“How could I still live in peace? Knowing the fact that Syracuse was destroyed?”

“Don’t worry my dear! You will be safe here in Thebes! The Romans won’t be able to find you! And you have everything here! Ah, let's arrange a group of jesters and playmates for you?”

“I can’t! Grandpa! I can’t!” She shouted.

“That is not the way it should be! I should gather and form a force to restore Syracuse!” She looked at Vitellus with a serious expression. A war, a revenge is what she wanted.

“Thebes does not train soldiers! Arete.” Vitellus replied.

“Life is to enjoy happiness! You can have all the good food, and a good life here!” His tone became nervous and he started to scratch his bald head.

“Why go to war? Why are you so stubborn like Amiran?!”

“If Claudius slap your left cheek, just let him slap your right cheek!”

“Balance it out, and you’ll have beautiful blushed puffy cheeks!” and he squeezed his own cheeks, attempting to make a face that cheered Arete up.

“Please! Grandpa, tell me all about my father! What does his letter mean? Who is Seneca? I want to know the truth! I need to know the truth!”

Vitellus sat and leaned on the long couch. He took a deep sigh.

“Out! Out! Out! All of you! I need private space with my granddaughter!”He shooed away the servants. They immediately dropped their work and ran out of the room.

After the last servant shut the door, Vitellus took out the letter to have a glance.

“Amiran, he started a conspiracy to end the Teleios system.” He answered.

Arete baffled, patiently waiting for his detailed explanation.

“I don’t remember when it started. But since Claudius' reign, Rome had been breeding Eugenes. They organized sports and competitions to select the best warriors and populate them.”

“Is that the reason why all city-states have to send their best selected warriors to Rome?” The puzzle began to unravel in Arete’s mind.

“Yes, but they are just regular Eugenes.”

“The Elders of Rome, they call for the Teleios, women who are almost divine. They are the chosen ones to breed the next Caesar generation.” Vitellus continued.

Vitellus: “And Amiran attempted to destroy that system.”

Arete: “I believe my father must have a very solid reason why he wanted to crush it!”

Vitellus: “True indeed! The Teleios system is widening the gap of humanity. The noble class became stronger and closer to gods. While the weak will remain mere human.”

Vitellus: “Amiran trained the slaves and the weaks, and he sneaked them into Rome. He covered the bones with shiny fat. Attempt to taint the noble bloodlines. But I think it is pointless…”

Arete: “No, it isn’t! I believe what my father did is for the justice of mankind!”

“Tell me! Arete!” Vitellus suddenly shouted in full authority.

“Why do you think a barbarian who is larger, stronger, and more powerful than you, would follow your orders and accompany you all the way to Thebes?” Vitellus’ question hit straight at Arete. A question which she already had an answer, but she was unable to speak out about it. Inherited authority. If she wasn’t born from a noble family, in what term did she have the right to command another person to fight for her? To maintain her authority, she must either become stronger or weakens the other, widening that ability gap to keep others enslaved.

Vitellus turned and walked to the door.

“Grandpa… She can speak our language.”

Vitellus sighed: “Have some good rest, my dear Arete. Tired head can’t think properly.” and he left the room.

To be continued…