For a moment the cheerful smile on Spurius’ face wavered and he looked taken aback, then his hands closed around Rufio’s. “You haven’t changed a bit”, Spurius remarked with a soft chuckle. “You’re as observant and protective as you were back in Etruria, maybe even more, and exactly as close-mouthed when it comes to your person! So it’s you and Hylas, eh?” Secretly Spurius hoped this was the case, the big freedman was one of the best friends imaginable to have around, especially for an eccentric young man who needed an honest heart and a sensible mind at his side to ground him. After all, he should know best. Rufio rolled his eyes and chuckled. “You’ve met him”, was all he said. “But you have turned quite evasive. Is it that bad?” Spurius looked up as the tanned and calloused hands closed around his, and, as if time had taken a leap backwards, he felt reassured and safe. Rufio had always been there for him, but this time Spurius hesitated to burden him, burden him with a secret that would incriminate his cousin if it came to the worst. He desperately wanted to keep this happy reunion free from all troubles that had overshadowed the last days. “I’d rather not talk about it right now”, he said softly. Rufio raised an eyebrow, gave him a long, thoughtful look and finally nodded, but didn’t remove his hands for which Spurius was glad.

Time had turned the beautiful boy Rufio into a more than just handsome man, and his Bithynian heritage showed more clearly than ever, not only in his tanned skin, but also in the liquid brown eyes he’d adored as a child. Rufio, the best friend he’d ever had, Spurius mused. They’d shared everything, as much as a slave and the nephew of his owner could do, that is. His friend and cousin had always been the one to talk him out of his worst ideas – and he’d been the only one Spurius had actually listened to. As he had listened very closely when Rufio showed him the other side of the estate, the slaves’ side that was so very different from the one he knew. He’d never told Rufio how much he’d fought and finally pleaded to have Rufio accompany him to Britannia. In a way he’d known it was all high hopes, but he’d dreamed of freeing his friend once he came of age. His uncle might have agreed; Spurius’ sly argument that he would need a personal servant and bodyguard in the half-civilised part of the world had met the man’s sense of decorum, but his wife, Albina, had immediately sung out how the steward had discovered them naked in the stables, and what they’d been doing there. After having heard her story – and she’d made a wonderful experience sound like something unsavoury – his uncle hadn’t been inclined to hear another word of it, a fact Spurius thought highly unfair, but even he was sensible enough to keep his mouth shut in order to spare Rufio further consequences. This, as he’d learned by now, apparently hadn’t worked.

People at the Tavern of the Lovely Mermaid came and went unnoticed by the two. “I still cannot believe you’re real”, Spurius sighed and beamed at Rufio. “I’ve missed you so much, and now you’re sitting here, just so!” He snapped his fingers and laughed happily. Rufio grinned and nodded. “I’ve missed you too, little rogue.” “That’s how you used to call me when no one w as around”, Spurius smiled and swirled the wine in his cup. The freedman snorted good-naturedly. “That’s what you were.” Both men turned their heads as a small group of men entered noisily, officers off duty by the looks of them, and Rufio felt Spurius’ hands stiffen in alarm. Without thinking Rufio moved aside to hide his friend from view. “You better tell me what’s going on”, he said softly. “And you better do it now.” Spurius pressed his paled lips together and nodded. “The soldiers are after us, me and my lover.” Rufio just stared at him for a moment, then he calmly reached for his cup. “Why?” he simply asked, practical-minded as ever, after he’d called out for a servant to settle the bill.