Giton stared at the large hand which restrained him...and he placed one of his own atop it gently. Prying the fingers from his arm would be impossible...but every reflex told him to leave now, before one of them got hurt--probably himself! Hearing the words Olaf spoke caused him to hesitate--there was a chance he could get out of this, but whether the two of them would still be friends he didn't know--the oracle at Cumae probably wouldn't even be able to tell that!

What are you doing, you fool?! Leave now before you do something stupid! The voice in his head was insistent and urgent, but Giton--for the first time in longer than he could remember--didn't listen to it. With a mind of their own, his legs returned to the chair, and he found his other hand also gripping that of the blond boy opposite. His mouth opened, and words began to come out--not words oily and smooth to cover those things which should remain hidden, but words rough and a bit slow, unplanned and little-used: the dusty syllables of Truth!

No! You mustn't--he'll kill you for sure! Run! It's not too late! Giton shook his head, ignoring the little voice in favor of something new--a chance to make a real friend! The german stared at him with those piercing eyes, as blue as the sea, and any hope Giton's voice had of victory was gone.

"Olaf--I'm selfish and greedy--and afraid--more than that too, probably...so I tried to hide things from you! I did it because I wanted to get closer to you, make love to you--and once I found out you knew Philandros--I knew that there would be no chance of that happening!"

Olaf removed his hand from Giton's arm, causing the other to look up anxiously. The eyes which met his showed only confusion as he worked through that in his head--not the anger which the greek had thought would be there--or the disgust which he had feared would be there. Olaf took a sip of his wine before he spoke. "Was not so hard to say, no? I hear that Corinna not like you...but Grumio said was not all your fault--children always get in trouble."

Giton watched Olaf spear a piece of grilled fish with amazement--could a person--whatever his background--be so forgiving? Then he noted the word children, and he realized that Olaf truly didn't know the recentness of the break between himself and Philandros. His new-found conscience wouldn't let matters rest there--something in this giant drew words from him as a net drew fish from the sea.

"There's more, Olaf...until just this summer, we were still friends--then I had an idea...." his voice fell to a whisper, and yet, the words still came, relating the evening of Lykon's party--and the insane plan which had been his to destroy the romance between Sextus and Philandros. Olaf took it all in, frowning at some points--either to have Giton repeat them so he could understand--or to ask a question to see if he had gotten things right in his own head. When Giton finally ended his story, he felt dry and thoroughly drained--he was still afraid that Olaf would leave, yet he was somehow no longer twisted into knots inside.

Olaf ate another piece of fish--he had stopped for a time as the tale was told--and motioned for Giton to eat his lamb. Nervously, the greek stabbed another cube of the dark meat. The blond made a curious gesture with his unoccupied hand, and took a sip of his watered-wine. When he spoke, it was in a quiet, questioning tone.

"So, you not intend for Philandros to be in danger? You mean only to make end to Sextus and my...friend?" He paused, waiting to hear what the dark-haired youth had to say for himself.

"I swear it...I meant only that...Lykon tricked both of us...and when I learned that, I tried to warn Philandros! That is how I really got my knife wound...." Giton's eyes met those of the blond, and Olaf could see that there was no hint of evasion in their brown depths. "I didn't save him--I think Sextus must have done that--I spent several days unconscious--cared for by someone I still don't know...and I've not seen my old friend since!"

Olaf patted Giton's hand before speaking, his brow wrinkled in thought. "Is strange, Philandros not speak of that time at all--never mentioned you at all..." Suddenly, his eyes opened wider and his voice rose with excitement.

"Is like now--he fall off cliff, but not remember it--I think, he not remember events of that night...at least not that you make it to happen!"

Giton's mouth fell open in surprize before he realized it, and he shook his head. "It couldn't be--could someone really forget something like that?"

Olaf nodded swiftly. "Is even now just so....When I get back..." Olaf saw through a window that it was fully dark, and finished his wine quickly. "Is late...we must go now! Philandros need me to sleep close, now more so that he can't walk--you come with?"

Giton managed to eat the last bits of his meal before Olaf nearly pulled him to his feet...it was that which made him realize just how strong this young giant really was, more than the muscles moving under the smooth skin. He protested all the way up the block and past the bakery next to Philandros' townhouse. At the entry, he set his feet and Olaf had to let go to open the iron-bound oak door.

"Olaf, I still can't go in--not until, or if--you find out just what Philandros thinks of me! And it is late...you go in--I'll see you tomorrow!" There was definite pleading in the greek's tone, which Olaf had to admit made sense.

"All right, you go home--I meet you tomorrow down near theater--I want to find book for Philandros, maybe you help since I can't read?"

Giton nodded eagerly, and gave a swift kiss to the german's cheek before he went up the street to make his way back to his own apartment near the main forum. He gave a look over his shoulder and saw Olaf standing for a moment before entering his front door--a hand raised to touch the cheek which Giton had kissed.