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Agrippa's body felt enormous as he stood uncomfortably at the entrance to the crowded pergula. It felt as though all the students were staring at him, although in reality that was not quite the case. A cluster of older boys towards the back of the room were more interested in the good-natured torture of a small skink that had been unfortunate enough to wander into their grasp, while another boy, closer to Agrippa's age, remained hunched over his wax tablet. The other youths' gaze was unsettling enough, however, as was the bemused expression on the face of the grammaticus as he took in Agrippa's dishevelled appearance, the result of having spent the last half hour wandering, lost, through the nearby alleys.

"I'm late," Agrippa said sheepishly, self-consciously trying to smooth the folds of his toga into a more ordered appearance.

"You are," the grammaticus agreed. Agrippa couldn't hear any tone of anger in his voice, but it was difficult to be sure, and he had never been much of a judge of character. "I presume you're the new student I was told to expect. Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa?"

"Yes, grammatice."

Another judging gaze was followed by a short nod. "You have a very impressive sponsor. Caesar spoke highly of the military promise you've shown."

The students, who had been starting to look a little bored with the interruption to their lessons, were now staring at Agrippa with renewed interest. Shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, he noticed that the grammaticus' comment had even attracted the attention of the boy who had not looked up earlier. Now he was watching Agrippa from beneath a thick, blonde fringe, his eyes serious and calculating. There was something quite unnerving in the other boy's gaze, and it was with some trepidation that Agrippa realised that the only vacant seat in the room was a small space directly to the boy's left.

"He has been very kind to me," Agrippa replied, becoming aware that a response was expected.

The humility of his words earned him a quick nod from the grammaticus. "Take a seat." He gestured to the vacant space. "Future tardiness will not be received with today's level of tolerance."

Agrippa was inclined to believe the man's words, having already noticed a long, fearsome looking cane leaning against the far wall. Nodding, he moved awkwardly towards the indicated bench, trying to ignore the snickers of a couple of the boys when his knee connected solidly with the hard wood of the bench in front. Sitting, he quickly stacked his books on the ground and arranged his tablet and pricker on his knees, before turning his attention towards the grammaticus at the front of the room.

For the next few minutes, Agrippa listened intently to the grammaticus, slowly becoming aware that there would be a lot of work needed before he could even begin to understand anything of the topics that were being discussed. The thought of becoming fluent in Greek was especially daunting and it was hard to understand how such knowledge would be of any use in the legions. After a while, however, Agrippa started to feel the uneasy prickle of an unwavering stare on the right side of his face. Turning, he found himself looking straight into the cool brown eyes of the boy sitting on the bench beside him. The fringe had been brushed from his eyes, but it still framed his face in a rather childlike manner, emphasising the size of his eyes and hinting at an innocence that was firmly denied by the brazen inquisition of his gaze.

"How do you know my uncle?" The youth's words were quiet, but Agrippa had no doubt that the phrase was a demand rather than an idle question.

"Your uncle?"

"Caesar," he replied impatiently. "He is my great uncle."

"Oh." Agrippa searched the other youth's face for some family resemblance, but there was little to be found, except perhaps for the firm set of his jaw and something in the line of his nose. "You must be Octavius, then."

An uninterested nod confirmed the accuracy of the assumption.

"Agrippa." He gestured roughly to himself in an awkward attempt at introduction.

"I heard." Octavius regarded him unblinkingly. "What of my uncle?"

"My father holds a high post amongst Caesar's legions. Myself, I do not claim to know him. I have met him on only two occasions."

"Yet he funds your education?"

"There are those who believe I show a little promise with the sword. I expect Caesar wishes to improve the intellect as well as the body of his future troops."

"He is a generous man." The words were said almost as a condemnation, uttered through clenched teeth.

Agrippa felt as though he had already made an enemy, despite having joined the class only minutes earlier. He was not sure why, but it seemed that his very presence offended Octavius. "I presume it to be so," he muttered quietly before turning back to regard the grammaticus once more.

Even so, he could still feel the ice of Octavius' eyes on the right side of his face.

The day passed more quickly than Agrippa had expected and it seemed as though almost no time at all passed between his arrival and the end of the school day. The grammaticus held him back for a few minutes while the other students noisily left the pergula, seeming to pour rather than walk out into the basilica. Agrippa noticed Octavius leaving with another boy, a skinny youth with short, dark hair who had been sitting to the right of the surly conversationalist. After the reception he had been given by Caesar's grand nephew, he was almost surprised to see Octavius engaged in amiable talk with what seemed to be a friend.

They were the last to leave, and Agrippa's attention was quickly taken from Octavius' hostility by the grammaticus' adroit inquisition. By the time he was allowed to leave, Agrippa felt as though every fragment of information about his previous schooling had been deftly enticed from him. It was an exhausting process, and he felt sure that the following weeks would be no less tiring as he struggled to live up to the peculiar faith that Caesar seemed to have in his abilities.

Walking out into the basilica, Agrippa noticed that a group of students had gathered in the far corner. Deciding that it would be better to introduce himself as soon as possible, especially in the light of the cool treatment he had already received courtesy of his connection to Caesar, he walked quickly over to the group, taking a deep breath and trying not to feel fourteen and nervous and a stranger in this new world. As he drew near, however, it became apparent that he was not merely looking at the usual benign congregation of school friends at the end of the day's occupation. Instead of amiable laughter, it now became clear that whoever stood in the middle of the group was the unfortunate focus of the outer boys' jeers.

Agrippa recognised the youths on the outside as the ones who had been sitting in the back corner of the pergula. He paused for a moment, considering his next action. From where he stood, he could see that the boys were several years older than he was. Indeed, they looked as though they would soon be passing from the classroom into the beginnings of their military career. Although perhaps not as broad as Agrippa, each boy stood about a hand's width taller than he did. While normally he would not have been concerned by their seemingly superior strength, the newness of his first day at this school was enough to make him pause for several seconds before continuing.

"What's going on?" he asked, quickly covering the last steps towards the group and trying to keep the tone of his voice one of easy curiosity, aware that he was supposed to be an unaware newcomer.

The nearest of the older boys turned to regard him with mild disinterest. "What do you want?" he asked bluntly.

"I was going to introduce myself," Agrippa replied, plastering a fake smile onto his countenance. "But if you are busy, I will wait until tomorrow."

"We already know who you are. Another of Caesar's pets, by the sound of things."

Agrippa couldn't stop a frown creeping onto his face. "I wouldn't call myself that. He knows my father, that's all."

The boy stared at him for a long moment, as if he aimed to see if Agrippa was telling the truth merely by looking him in the eye, then nodded, as though some test had been satisfied. "We don't like Caesar's type," he remarked coolly. "Your father should learn to keep better company."

An indignant mutter could be heard from behind the speaker's back. Peering around his frame, Agrippa was shocked to see that the recipient of the earlier jibes had been Octavius - the very same boy who had acted so disdainfully towards him earlier that day. For a moment, he felt a cruel pang of regret at having disrupted what was surely a well-merited affront, before a feeling of duty to his new sponsor drove such thoughts from his head. As unfriendly as Octavius might be, it was obvious that his great uncle held him in high regard, and therefore Agrippa owed him his respect and assistance, if not affection. Of course, whether Octavius would accept any assistance from one so obviously disliked by him was another matter entirely.

Standing, Octavius' body somehow seemed in keeping with the unusual size of his eyes, his delicate frame giving him an appearance of almost childlike innocence. Shorter than Agrippa, he looked younger as well, although Agrippa realised that Octavius could not be much younger than his fourteen years while still wearing the adult toga and attending the senior school. Regardless of age, it was obvious that he would have little chance of success in any physical quarrel with the youths surrounding him.

"May I ask your name?" Agrippa asked boldly, gaining a few more moments to contemplate the situation.

"Longinus. Tiberius Cassius Longinus."

"Any close relation to the Cassius who was quaestor to Crassus?"

"My uncle."

Agrippa nodded. "Your blood is admirable." He thought it more tactful not to voice any of the rumours he had heard surrounding Cassius' betrayal of Caesar's former colleague.

"We are not all of lowly birth." Smiling smugly, Longinus turned back to the surrounded Octavius.

"Perhaps not," Agrippa replied to the back of the older boy's head. "But nobility is not only measured by the greatness of a man's birth. I, for one, am of what you might consider humble plebeian birth, but I would never think of intimidating a boy several years younger than myself."

His pointed comment not only caused Longinus to turn back towards him, but also gained the attention of the other boys.

The youth to Longinus' left looked particularly unimpressed. "You're awfully opinionated for a newcomer," he remarked. "You should watch your step."

Agrippa smiled wryly. "I'll keep that in mind." Anticipating the boy's next move, he took a step towards him. As expected, he quickly shot out a leg, as if to trip Agrippa. His smile twisting into a bemused smirk, Agrippa used his own leg to push the obstacle away, unbalancing the other boy and forcing him to grab Longinus in order to stay on his feet.

Disregarding the glares he was receiving, Agrippa turned to face Octavius. "Where is the friend with whom I saw you leave the pergula?" he asked politely. "I was hoping that you would introduce me to him."

"Maecenas?" Octavius' expression was almost as dark as those on the faces of the boys surrounding him. "He is probably home by now."

"I'll have to wait until tomorrow, then."

"You've bad judgement in terms of the acquaintances you choose to make," Longinus remarked coolly, before gesturing to his friends. "Come on. We've already wasted too much time on these fools." Turning, he strode quickly away, the other boys following him without further comment.

Agrippa watched them until they had exited the basilica through a distant doorway before turning back to Octavius. "Pleasant types," he remarked dryly.

He wasn't sure quite what reaction he had expected to receive from Octavius, but it was certainly not the tight jaw and indignant eyes with which he was now faced. The tension in the other boy's body betrayed his anger - the hands closed into tight fists, the rigid straightness of his back and even something in the way he held his head.

"I did not need to be rescued," Octavius spat, "and I was certainly in no danger of being intimidated. Their words mean nothing to me."

Agrippa tried not to feel intimidated by the ice in Octavius' gaze. "I never suggested that you were in need of rescue," he replied calmly. "I merely held a conversation with my classmates."

It almost seemed as though Agrippa could see a shadow of a smile on Octavius' face. "For a soldier, you have a remarkable talent for twisting words."

"My father always taught me that not all of a soldier's weapons are made of steel." Agrippa smiled sheepishly. "Although personally I'd prefer to face an army of barbarians armed with a sword than with a passing knowledge of rhetoric..."

This time there could be no doubt that the twist of Octavius' lips was, indeed, a smile. "I would have to agree."

"Do you intend to join Caesar's legions once you are of age?" Agrippa asked, curious.

"I intend to help command them."

Agrippa grinned. "Well, spare a thought for our school days together when you are my general."

"I will." There was a decidedly playful look shining within the brown of Octavius' eyes. "Whether such reminiscence is to your favour will remain to be seen."

"If not, I doubt my school days will be long lived in any case. I would guess that displeasing the great-nephew of my sponsor would rather jeopardise his support."

Octavius frowned. "My uncle's business is his own. I'd never seek to interfere in whatever arrangement he has with you."

"It displeases you, though." Agrippa's words were a statement, not a question. The truth of the remark had already been demonstrated through Octavius' reaction on hearing of the sponsorship.

"I was surprised to learn of it in such a manner. And," he continued, smiling sheepishly, "perhaps a little jealous. But I cannot expect my uncle to inform a fifteen year old of his every move."

Agrippa raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You're fifteen?"

The self-effacing grin grew a little wider. "I am told I don't look it." Octavius' fringe had fallen into his eyes again, and he carelessly brushed it to one side, seeming to perform the action out of habit rather than any conscious determination. "It can be useful at times. Yourself?"

"Fourteen," Agrippa admitted.

Now it was Octavius' turn to look surprised. "Is that all?" He laughed. "Longinus and his friends will not be pleased when they find out they were bettered by a fourteen year old."

"Longinus appears to take after his uncle."

"He does." Octavius shook his head slightly. "I wasn't lying before. They really don't bother me. Any insults coming from them are really compliments." He shrugged. "Although, Longinus may be right on one account. You may learn to regret taking my side today. They have many friends - most of them secured through fear."

"I would rather remain friendless for my entire time at this school than be a minion of Longinus." Agrippa's words were not merely bravado. He had always been somewhat of a loner and had expected no different from his time at a school so far above his family's own means.

"You have a friend in me." Octavius' gaze was even, if not overwhelmingly friendly. "If that is what you seek."

Agrippa smiled. "I would like that." As he spoke, the smile drifted into a something closer to a smirk. "If nothing else, it may prove advantageous to my future career."

Octavius echoed the smile, but his tone betrayed an underlying solemnity. "That is the most important thing."

A quick glance at the setting sun told Agrippa that he was long due home. "Actually, at the moment, I'd say the most important thing would be for me to get home before my mother sends my brother out as a search party."

Octavius nodded. "My mother is of a similar nature. I'll walk part of the way with you."

They left the basilica through the same exit as Longinus and his friends, passing their books to their waiting slaves to carry before beginning the winding walk through the streets to the forum and the centre of the city.

"I got a little lost this morning," Agrippa admitted. "That's why I was so late."

"It's easy to do. Maecenas took several weeks to learn the route from his house. Even now, I have a feeling his slave often leads the way."

Octavius' laughter was warm, making Agrippa feel as though he was finally beginning to truly overcome the awkwardness of their first conversation. He gestured towards a side alley. "This is where I turn."

Octavius nodded, causing his errant fringe to fall forward. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then." He smiled. "It was nice to meet you, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa."

Agrippa returned the smile. "You also." Reaching forward, he brushed the fringe to one side. "That thing's going to be a real trap for the ladies in a couple of years' time," he joked, before turning the gesture into a slight wave. "See you tomorrow."

Turning, he headed into the alley, his thoughts already turning to the problem of finding his way home without becoming lost for the second time that day. And, if his conversation over the evening meal was unusually full of talk about Caesar's great nephew, then his family members were kind enough not to make mention of it.