5
Scene Five
Rufus wasn’t looking where he was going.
That happened more often after someone told him to go.
He nearly walked into Gaius.
Gaius looked up from the broken roof tiles at his feet. He looked at Rufus, then looked again.
“Where did you get the black eye?”
Rufus touched his cheek. “I’ve got one?”
“You will.”
“Oh.”
He considered that.
“I got thrown out of the stables.”
Gaius nodded. “That explains it.”
“You aren’t going to ask why?”
“I assumed it was your fault.”
Rufus opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again.
“Mostly.”
Gaius accepted that and turned another roof tile over in his hands. It had cracked across one corner. He rubbed his thumb over the break.
“Bad firing.”
“What?”
“The kiln was too hot.”
“You can tell that?”
Gaius looked up. “You can’t?”
Rufus examined the tile.
It looked like a broken tile.
“No.”
Gaius placed it beside several others.
“What are you doing?” Rufus asked.
“Looking.”
“For what?”
“Why they broke.”
“They’re broken.”
“I noticed.”
“That seems like the important part.”
“It isn’t.”
Rufus sighed.
Marcus knew ovens. Moshe knew people. Titus knew horses.
Apparently Gaius knew broken roof tiles.
Rufus’s stomach growled loudly.
Gaius looked at him. “You still haven’t eaten.”
“I had a heel.”
Gaius waited.
“And a fig.”
Another pause.
“I borrowed the fig.”
Gaius reached into the cloth bundle beside him and held out half a loaf.
Rufus stared at it.
“What’s that?”
“Your breakfast.”
“I thought you liked bread.”
“I do.”
Rufus took it.
“You’re a good friend.”
“I know.”