“To Nuceria to fetch a horse?” Hylas deposited the baskets on the ground and put his hands on his hips to huff crossly at this slight to his visit. Then the pretence at righteous indignation was lost as he grinned slowly and rather wickedly at Eirik from beneath his thick eyelashes. “Well! I’m sure we can amuse ourselves till they get back, and they’ll just have to live with the consequences!”

He might have meant nothing by that, apart from his customary playful banter. He automatically flirted with anything male to some degree or another, and it didn’t always mean anything. He even flirted with Piso, though fortunately the old steward was too deaf to realise it. And he had immediately turned his attention to the baskets of cats as if completely unaware of the way Eirik was now looking at him. Somehow though, the Northerner knew he was perfectly well aware of it, but for once, incredibly, he simply had no ready response. Eirik even thought he glimpsed a slight flush on the youth’s tanned cheeks before he quickly dipped his head to let his glossy curls obscure his face, and smiled fondly to himself a little.

Neither of them were sure when it was that the easy camaraderie that had always existed between the lithe dark Greek and the tall blond Northman had warmed into something deeper and – at least on Hylas’s side – more wistful. In Hylas’s experience, the men he was genuinely fond of were rarely the men who wanted him, and there was also the thorny fact that he liked Eirik’s lover too much to cause trouble for them. But it didn’t stop him daydreaming sometimes, and now he was glad of the feline distraction to stop him making an embarrassing fool of himself.

The basket containing Sextus’s kitten was rocking back and forth precariously as its inhabitant vociferously demanded his freedom. Maybe attracted by his cries, Fortunula had appeared as if by magic from one of the outbuildings and ran over to inspect the wicker baskets, meowing and taunting her brothers inside. Hylas scooped the little calico cat up under one arm, kissed her nose and scolded her before noticing something missing and looking around with an anxious frown. “Oh, where’s Nooby?”

The flat-eared grey kitten Anubis was rarely away from his sister Fortunula’s side. “Double trouble,” Rufio called the pair of young cats, as Doris’s screams once again announced the discovery of headless mice in the kitchen or old Piso tumbled headlong into the grain storage bins when the partners in crime galloped across the yard between his unsteady legs.

“Ach, he’ll just be lying in ambush somewhere,” Eirik suggested, watching Hylas’s slim brown fingers deftly unfasten the baskets to release the their cargo. Although the cats’ reaction to finding themselves in a farmyard rather than an urban street was amusing, his attention was more focussed at the moment on the young Greek. “Why don’t we leave Fortunula to show her brothers the sights and get a cold drink?”

Hylas nodded, then giggled and pointed as Felix-the-Cat bushed out his tail and eagerly galloped off in pursuit of a squawking, fluttering chicken. “I hope they settle down before Rufio gets back,” he observed, “Else I suppose I might be taking them all the way back to town with me. Come on, let’s get that cold drink!”

He smiled up at the tall Northerner and slid his arm through the older man’s, tugging him towards the main house. Doris brought them fresh grape juice and – knowing Hylas’s passion for them – a plate of small cakes made with grape must and honey. The sturdy new wooden pergolas Rufio and Eirik had built along the back of the villa were already covered with flowering vines and ivy, and made a cool, shady place to sit. The afternoon was still humid and heavy though, the air barely stirred by the hot breeze, and Eirik pointed out thick dark clouds massing over the hills inland. “Look, that’s going to be quite a thunderstorm when it reaches here!”

Within an hour, the faint rolls of thunder in the distance were already sounding closer, the sky had darkened to a bruised purple-black and the hot air was blowing dust and dried leaves in little eddies around the yard. There was still no sign of Rufio and Spurius and Hylas was beginning to look a little anxious. “They’re going to get caught out on the road, aren’t they?” he fretted.

“Very likely, but Spurius is a sensible traveller and I’m sure Rufio won’t take any risks with the new horse,” Eirik reassured him with a hug, ”They’ll be just fine!” Then he looked at the young Greek, apparently grave but with a playful twinkle in his eyes, “However, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to try and get back to Pompeii just yet – perhaps you had better stay here until the storm has passed.”

“Oh what a good idea!” purred Hylas, doe-eyed. Rarely had he looked so innocent or less convincing. “I would feel much safer here with you.”