The air was hot and still and not even the fountain that spurted perfumed water lessened the hammerlike force of the sun. The two brothers lounged there, the older one nude, the younger in a short tunic of thin cotton. The family resemblance was strong, though Titus Flavius Vespasianus was handsome and his brother, Titus Flavius Domitianus, was not. As the older brother had the same name as his father, he was called Titus instead of Vespasianus, as his father was. Titus scratched meditatively at the stubble on his chest, then squinted up at the sun. “I hope it's cooler tonight,” he remarked. "It won't be,” Domitianus said, an unwelcome touch of jealousy giving him an odd satisfaction at his older brother's discomfort. "At least it will be cooler when our father comes from Egypt. We have just under two months to prepare for that.” Titus was tan, lean and athletic, just thirty-one. "All will be ready,”
