The Folding Knife

by K.J. Parker

“Bassianus, we’re talking about someone trying to kill you. I really think—” “What did you just call me?” Aelius pulled up short. “Bassianus,” he said. “Sorry, was that wrong? Only . . .” Basso smiled. “No, nothing wrong,” he said. “It’s just, I don’t think you’ve ever called me by name before, in all the time we’ve known each other. I’m trying to remember, but I’m pretty sure.” Aelius frowned. “I don’t know,” he said. “Nor me. But I have an idea you’ve always found a way not to - presumably because you don’t know what to call me, so you’ve cleverly ducked the issue. Bassianus is fine, by the way, though it’s rather a mouthful. Call me Basso.” Aelius looked at him. “Is that all right?”

Never back down, never turn your back on a friend.” The second part, Basso reflected, could be interpreted two ways. Both equally valid.