"And I wash telling her exactly that when what appeared from under the bed but the very cockerel in question!" Caius Domitius Calvinus roared with laughter at his own story and slapped the back of the man next to him with great force.

"Well, Caius, I think it's time that I retired to bed. If I stay up any longer I shall see the dawn very soon."

"And what reashon is that to stop drinking?" roared Calvinus.

"And my wife shall be missing me, no doubt."

"Now,, a wife that actually lovesh you, who'sh ever heard of such a thing? I shwear, your talesh are ash tall ash mine sometimesh." Calvinus grinned drunkenly.

"All the same, that's time for me. Goodnight, Caius - I hope you don't end up under that table." With a wry smile, Calvinus's companion laid a few coins out on the table of the tavern, and departed out into the night.

Caius Domitius Calvinus, friend and adviser to Quintus Flaminius Vitulus, and in remarkable shape at 54 years of age, raised his arm to attract someone's attention to get himself another drink. Blurred at first, but eventually resolved when his two eyes eventually decided to edge their way into position, Calvinus saw a young man standing in front of his table. "Another cup of wine, if you pleash!"

"Don't you recognise me ... old man ...?" The sneer in the young man's voice cut a blade of ice through the heart of Calvinus.

The part of his brain stil functioning normally under the sea of alcohol wrested some control back over Calvinus. He looked more carefully this time at the young man before him, and saw for the first time the chestnut curls and the hazel eyes - the very spit of ..."

"Caius Flaminius Vitulus!" Calvinus exlaimed with a mixture of amazement and horror.

"You still remember me, then."

"How could I forget? You almost killed me once by setting fire to me, and pushed me into the Tiber when I was drunk, too. Forget you? Never!"

A smile creapt across the face of the young Vitulus. "It's always nice to be remembered. And what are you doing here, old man?"

"Managing your father's estate here. Conducting business. This and that. Legitimate business," he said pointedly. "But what are you doing here?!"

"Passing through on my way back to Rome. It's been too long since I was there. Father is missing me, I'm sure."

"I'm sure he is grateful for every day he does not have to see your face or endure your presence within a hundred miles of him!"

The young man leant over and grabbed Calvinus's throat. "Listen, old man, you know nothing of anything. You are a drunken fool of a man who likes the sound of his voice too much and who thinks more highly of his own opinions than does anyone else. You are a worthless pathetic lump who should have been left out to die at birth. Even your family who are worse than dogs look with disgust on you." With a push that sent Calvinus's head crashing back against the wall, young Vitulus released his grip. "I am off to Rome to make my name. I hear Father has made quite a success of himself while I have been gone. All the more glory for me when I am paterfamilias."

"May that be many years away!" spluttered Calvinus, holding his throat.

"May it be only a short time away, old man, like the time of your passing. Be lucky it is not tonight. Or there is still time. You could still choke on your own vomit. May Fortuna wish it so. Stay and rot here. I am going home, to Rome. Enjoy your backwater." Caius Flaminius picked up another client's cup of ale and threw it right into the face of Calvinus who coughed violently. By the time his vision was clear, the young man had gone from sight.