As Titus reclined on one of the couches, his eyes wandered, taking in the slightly neglected garden: plants which needed pruning, weeds taking root among the small beds...and the silvery spiderweb which adorned the statues of Castor and Pollux--that's who he assumed they were, but you couldn't be sure without an inscription. Pallas had mentioned the death of his father, and the need to sell another house--which he had thought would have given the boy money; had his father had many debts then?

He heard the two talking in greek, but he couldn't make out any of it since they were speaking too fast--not that his vocabulary was at all extensive! When the others returned bearing plates and wine cups, he allowed a small smile to cross his lips--the two were like night and day in their differences--and he had to admit that while Hylas seemed to be more bold, he found himself drawn to Pallas' quiet nature, so much like his own.

Titus answered questions about himself, his family..."I'm not really from Rome--Tusculum actually. We have a few shops and insulae in the Aventine--but Rome is just too expensive to live in!"

Pallas glanced up as he handed over a cup of sweetened wine. "What brings you to Pompeii--Hylas says you are a neighbor of his?"

Titus glanced at the other, slightly older greek with a smile--he'd have to watch what he said around that one--if it was something he wanted to keep secret! "I only moved in today...it will be nice to know that my neighbors are friendly!" He took a bite from the pastry, and had to admit he had never tasted a better one!

"I'm here to make a change--without my father, home just seemed...strange. Mother said that if I wanted to write, I needed to travel a bit, and so I decided to look around southern Italia; lots of history around here, with the greeks and native Oscans, and even some Punic influence from Sicilia!"

Pallas looked up at that. "You want to write? What type of writing?" Titus could not miss the curiosity and excitement in his voice. His face turned red as he tried to answer the question.

"Well...I'd like to do history--but I haven't really had much chance to read it..."

"All the best are Greek!" Hylas interjected proudly. He knew that Herodotus was a famous man...and that he was greek, so that made it certain that the rest had to be greek too. He took a big bite from his second pastry, and gulped down part of his wine, at the same time managing to give Titus a huge smile.

PWell, if that's true...then I'm out of luck!" Titus replied with a rueful grin. "I can speak a bit of Etruscan, since my servant Laris is from Velathri...but only a few phrases in Greek--just ask Pallas here!"

Hylas glanced from one to the other of his companions, his eyes twinkling with their usual mischief. "I have a wonderful idea! Pallas--teach him greek!" He switched to their native language as he added: "I know you can use the money--don't deny it!"

Titus finished his cake, and turned to face Pallas more directly; the boy was shaking his head, and Titus felt himself disappointed--he would be spending time here copying the Historia--so why wouldn't Pallas also teach him greek? Did he have other obligations which prevented him?

"He might not have time, Hylas...or not want to...." The sadness in Titus' voice was evident. "I wouldn't expect him to do it for free!"

A loud knocking interrupted what Pallas might have answered, but rather than diminishing after reading the sign, it continued, to be added by a loud call: "Tite! Tite!"

Pallas looked at Hylas and shrugged, and the other looked at the roman in confusion. Neither of them knew the voice of the urgent visitor. Titus roused himself from his daydreams.

"That's Laris--I told him to find me after he did some errands!" Pallas rose to answer the door, and let the brown-haired, brown-eyed youngster enter. The slave apologized as he came into the garden. "Any luck, Laris?"

"Sorry, master--I can get the old stuff out, but there's no one who has a bed to sell today, though one man said he could get one tomorrow or next day! I'll take the floor, and you can use mine--if it's in good shape..."

The flow of words faltered when Pallas cleared his throat. "Um..you could use mine, Titus--" Hylas let his jaw drop, then laughed loudly. "I mean--I have a few pieces of furniture left from the old house, and they're only taking up space!"

Titus thanked him, and Laris went off to inspect the bed, leaving Hylas to entertain the young roman alone. He poured out more wine, and moved closer. "So, you like to read a lot then? Pallas has some great stuff here--his father had a thriving shop and excellent taste!"

Titus was about to ask why the shop was failing, but Hylas hurried off into the front for a few moments. He produced a scroll which he handed over with a flourish.

"This is one of my favorite books--I hope you like it!"

The tag bore a red inscription: Satyrica--GPetronius.

"Never heard of it--I'll start it today!" His fingers were itching to unroll the thing right away, but he heard Pallas and Laris returning from upstairs.

"A nice bed, master--I can have it delivered right now, if you wish?" Titus trusted the other's judgment, and nodded. Laris left to find some help to carry the piece. The three sat down again, and resumed their conversation, when Pallas saw the scroll, Titus showed him the label.

"Hylas! Why did you give him that one?!"

The other boy smiled widely and with a hint of mischief. "If I know you, that Historia is dry as dust--this will give him something to stir the blood--in more ways than one!"