by Carol Ashby
And to make that sacrifice on a cross? Titus wrinkled his nose. There was no worse way for a man to die. Many didn’t even survive the flogging before, and those were the lucky ones.
And claiming a crucified man survived? Rome’s execution squads knew their business. No one got off a cross alive. Rose after three days? By then the body would be a rotting, stinking corpse. How could that come back to life? He’d heard the Christians believed Jesus had risen, and the body did disappear. But the Jewish rulers claimed the body had been stolen. That was much more believable than him coming back to life.
The grandfather of Father’s friend must have been fooled by lies those men told. And his friend had fooled Father. It had to be that.
He rubbed the back of his neck and picked up the next sheet.
At last I understood it all. The temple could be destroyed because God had made the perfect blood sacrifice Himself―Jesus on a cross more than 80 years ago. The temple and its sacrifices were no longer needed, so He had Rome destroy it so people would no longer cling to the old ways.
The coming of the Messiah, of Jesus, was foretold in the Jewish Scriptures hundreds of years before He came, and God kept the promise He made to His people. There was no need to continually sacrifice animals to cover my sin with their blood. To be saved from my sin, I only had to believe in Jesus as the sacrifice for all sins, including mine. It all made perfect sense, and I finally knew the truth.
When I went the first time to worship with my friend, I actually met God myself. I felt His love surround me, and now He lives in me. I am never alone. That day when I decided to believe, to repent of my sins and commit myself to Jesus as my Lord, all the worry and sadness in my life was replaced by peace and joy. For the first time, I knew what it was to be fully alive.
My son, more than anything I’ve ever wanted, I want you to experience this yourself. For you to know this perfect love deep in your soul―that will be my dying prayer.
Following Jesus is like a perfect marriage; denying Him would be like committing adultery against the most loving, beautiful, faithful wife a man could have. I could never betray my Lord that way. I have chosen death instead.
Titus gripped his head with both hands. No one could actually meet a god and then have him live inside him. Had Father gone crazy? But the writing was typical Father...just like a speech he would have made to his philosopher friends. It didn’t read like the ravings of a mad man...except for his conclusion he’d met God and that dying for Jesus was a good thing.
He added the sheet to the stack and picked up the last one.
When he learned of my faith, Lucius reported me as a Christian. He betrayed me because he wanted to be free from my control over his life. He was unwilling to wait until I died a natural death. The praetor who heard my case is one of his friends and is well known to hate those who follow Jesus. His praetor friend did give everything to him as reward for turning me in, but Lucius’s treachery was not simply to gain the Drusus fortune.
I have forgiven him, and I pray that somehow God will reach him and that he will choose to follow Jesus, too. I know you will want to avenge my death, but my last command as your father is to forbid that. You must even try to forgive your brother for turning me in. I know that will be hard, but I am praying that you will discover that forgiveness, not vengeance, is the only way to find peace with what your brother has done. Jesus has made it possible for me to forgive him. I pray that He will help you do the same.
Titus ground his teeth. Forgive that treacherous dog who’d used a Roman court to murder Father? Impossible.
I will die soon, but I have no regrets. I am content to die because it isn’t death that matters. It is whether you have accepted Jesus as Savior. Death is terrible apart from Jesus. Without Jesus, I would be lost, in hell, forever separated from God. With Jesus as my Savior, death has no power over me, and I don’t fear it. It will just usher me into life with Him in heaven.
Jesus told us that He is the way, the truth, and the life. He promised if a man would believe in Him and follow, he would know the truth, and the truth would set him free. If you let Him, Jesus will show you what is true. Open your mind to Him, Titus. Open your heart. Know the truth and be free like I am, even in this prison as I wait to die. I will be praying for all my children to choose to follow Jesus until I take my final breath and even after that, for life with Jesus is eternal.
I love you, my son, and I hope to be with you again someday in heaven. May grace, mercy, and peace from the one true God and from Jesus, my Savior and Lord, soon be yours.
Titus picked up the stack and placed the final sheet on the bottom. Then he stared at the letter as he held it in his hand. Conflicting emotions swirled through his mind. He would treasure this letter because it was the last message he would ever receive from his father, but its contents shook him to the core.
Father was trying to convince him to become what had led to his own death. He’d actually been glad to die. It was beyond understanding how a calm, rational man could be glad to die for a dead man who claimed to be the son of the Jewish god. It was even more ludicrous that Father would tell him that he should be willing to risk doing the same.
All that discussion of how seeking a true philosophy led him to be a God-fearer made sense, but the part about sin and sacrifice and following Jesus didn’t make sense at all. How could a single man be the sacrifice for the sins of all men? And why would his father choose to die for such an idea?
And all that part about forgiving Lucius? Titus could never forgive that traitor for causing their father to be murdered. That was what it was. Murder. Lucius should be sewn in a leather sack with the viper, dog, rooster, and monkey and thrown in the Tiber, just like any other man who committed patricide. He would reluctantly obey his father’s command not to kill his brother, but he could never forgive him. That was a ridiculous idea, and he wouldn’t even try.
One thing was certain. He wouldn’t let Claudia see the letter. Since Father had written it, she might think everything in it must be true. The last thing he wanted was for her to even think about becoming a Christian. He didn’t want her killed, too.
He opened the chest where he kept important papers and buried the letter at the bottom. Then he put a smile on his face before he headed downstairs to join Claudia for dinner. He didn’t want her to ask what was wrong, so he would act like the letter had never come. For both their sakes, he hoped his acting would be good enough.
Chapter 64: Fever
Miriam stirred the sauce, then lifted the spoon to her lips for a taste. It was a little over a week since Mistress Claudia had decided to follow Jesus. They’d become friends before then, but spending their days together was even more enjoyable now they were sisters as well.
Mistress walked up beside her and leaned on the counter. “That smells so good. Titus is going to love it.”
Miriam dipped and lifted the spoon again for Mistress to taste.
“Mmm. You’ll have to show me how to make that one. Then I can tell Philip’s chef how to do it.”
Mistress twirled with her arms out. “Or maybe I’ll have you teach him. I’m not sure how Titus and I are going to manage to share you. He’s going to want to keep you as his cook, but you really should stay with me.” Her smiled dimmed. “I wish I could tell him how wonderful life is and why. But he still hates the Christians who told Father about Jesus, and I’m afraid he’d be furious with you if he knew you’d told me.”
She danced back to the table and picked up the bowl containing the sauce she’d made for the master’s favorite pear dessert. “Oh. I just got some sauce on me. I’d better go change before Titus gets here.” She giggled. “We have him so fooled about what I do all day. But he does expect me to be lounging in here, waiting to greet him. I don’t want to disappoint him.”
Mistress left the kitchen, and Miriam listened to her singing as she went up the stairs.
When Miriam looked out the window above the counter, sh
e saw Master Titus dismount. He was home early. Never before had he rested his forehead against the saddle and just stood there. When Nestor came to take the stallion to the stable and rub him down, the master drooped as he walked toward the house.
She’d prepared one of his favorite dinners, and he always stopped to comment on the delicious smell or to steal a quick taste as he passed through the kitchen when he first got home. His eyes laughed as he teased her or Claudia. Today was different. When he entered the kitchen, his eyes looked dull, and his face was flushed.
“Are you well, master?” It was too obvious the answer was no.
“Not really. It smells good, but I won’t be eating with Claudia tonight. I’m going to lie down for a while. Maybe I’ll get some later.”
His shoulders sagged as he headed into the courtyard and up the stairs on the way to his bedchamber. Tendrils of unease wrapped around Miriam. She’d seen fever before, and Master Titus looked like he had one. She’d get Nestor to check on him later if he didn’t come ask for something to eat after he rested.
Claudia had finished dining and sat at the kitchen table watching Miriam clean up. If it were breakfast or lunch, she’d be helping, but they’d agreed that Titus shouldn’t know how much time she spent doing household chores, so she never helped when he was home. He wouldn’t think it was proper for a Roman lady to do such work, but doing something was so much more enjoyable than doing nothing.
“I wonder how Titus is feeling. I missed him at dinner.”
She’d eaten with Miriam and Nestor instead of by herself. Titus wouldn’t have thought that was proper, either.
Miriam dried her hands as she finished at the washbasin. “I was planning to ask Nestor to check on him before we go to bed.”
Claudia stood. “I can do that now. I’ll be right back.”
Miriam was putting the plates and cups away on the shelves when she heard Mistress Claudia running along the balcony and down the courtyard stairs.
Mistress burst into the kitchen. “Titus was just lying there on his bed, and when I touched him, he felt like he was burning up.”
Miriam took her hand and squeezed it. “I’ll take a look at him. I’ve taken care of people with fevers before, and I know what to do.”
Unfortunately, she did know what to do. There had been an outbreak of fever in Bithynia when she was in Master Alexander’s household. Several of their neighbors fell ill, and Master Alexander and his servants tended them. Some lived, but some died. Miriam didn’t tell Mistress that the woman she tended had been among those who died.
At the door to the master’s bedchamber, Miriam placed her hand on Mistress’s arm. “Fever is sometimes easy to catch, and I don’t want you to come into the room with me. Stay here while I check him.”
Mistress didn’t object. She stood at the doorway, biting her lip.
When Miriam approached Master Titus’s bedside, he rolled from his side to his back and moaned. His eyes opened at the soft sound of her footsteps.
“Miriam? What are you doing here?”
His surprise was understandable. She’d never entered his bedchamber when he was there before.
“Mistress said you weren’t well, master. I came to see if I can help.”
“Keep her away from me. There’s fever in the garrison, and I have it now.” He paused. “It’s bad. Several of the men have died.”
Worry clouded his eyes. Miriam laid her palm on his forehead. He was burning up.
“You don’t have to worry about that, master. I’ve cared for fever before, and I know what to do.” He didn’t have to worry, but it worried her that it took some effort for him to speak.
“So I bought a nurse as well as a cook and musician.” His mouth turned up a little. “I got a lot for four hundred.”
“I always try to do whatever you need, master.”
He gave her another weak smile.
She steeled herself to touch his bare shoulder. It felt even hotter. He’d removed his tunic before lying down. That was good; she needed his chest exposed if she was to bring down his temperature.
“You’re a bit warm, master. I’m going to cool you to make you more comfortable.”
Actually, he was alarmingly hot. This was not an ordinary fever. Mistress stood at the door on tiptoes, trying to get a better view of the master as Miriam walked back to her.
She spoke softly so Master Titus wouldn’t hear. “He’s very hot, but I know how to help that. He doesn't want you coming into the room because he’s worried you might get sick, too. Keeping him from worrying is important. He’ll rest better. Besides, I’ll need someone to bring me things so I can stay here with him.”
Mistress pressed her palms to her cheeks. “Is he going to be all right?”
Miriam forced a smile. “I’ve seen people who were much sicker get better.”
She’d also seen people die who hadn’t been this sick. That fact was best kept to herself.
“He should feel better after I start taking care of him.”
She could make him more comfortable, but that didn’t mean he might not die. It was best only she knew that as well. Besides, she didn’t expect the master to die. Surely God would heal the man who protected and provided for both Mistress Claudia and her.
Mistress squared her shoulders. “Tell me what to do.”
“First, I need some small towels, a sponge, a fan, and a bowl of water from the well. I’m going to try to cool him down. He’ll feel much better when I do.”
Mistress hurried off to fetch what Miriam had asked for.
Miriam returned to Master Titus and picked up his hand. He opened his eyes.
“I’ve sent for some cold water. I’m going to sponge you with the water to cool you and drape you with wet towels.”
Her ears burned at the thought of touching his chest and face that way. All he had to do was brush her arm, and her heart beat faster. What she had to do to cool him down...she didn’t want to think about it. But he was such a good master; she’d do anything it took to get him well.
Miriam’s flushed cheeks told Titus how uncomfortable she was with what she must do, but she’d do it anyway. Another time, he would have found her modesty entertaining and might have teased her about it. Not today. He simply squeezed her hand in appreciation.
He received a reassuring smile, but then he looked at her eyes. They were deadly serious. No need to worry? That clearly wasn’t true.
His eyes widened. He tightened his grip on her hand and tried to sit up. “If I die, what will happen to Claudia? She can’t go back to Lucius.”
She placed her free hand on his shoulder and gently pushed. “Master Philip and Mistress Penelope will take her in and care for her, just like they did before, but you don’t need to worry about that. I do know how to care for you, and you should get better.”
He collapsed back on his pillow. His voice was quiet as he stared into her eyes. “Take care of Claudia, no matter what.” He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and smiled at her. “Don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“I’ll take care of both of you, master. No need to worry.”
Titus closed his eyes. A deep sigh escaped as he let his whole body relax. Miriam would make sure Claudia would be all right if he didn’t recover. Philip would take care of her needs, and Miriam would take care of her heart.
The master’s last words warmed Miriam’s cheeks and her heart. She loved Mistress Claudia like a sister, but she cared for Master Titus, too. He’d saved her from life in the brothel, and he always treated her like a person. Serving him gave her even more pleasure than serving Master Alexander had.
Miriam heard Mistress Claudia’s footsteps on the balcony, so she limped over to meet her at the door.
Mistress handed her the bowl and other items. “Is this all I can do?”
“You or Nestor can bring me more cold water in a little while. I’ll be cooling the master until his fever breaks, and that coul
d be several hours.”
“I’m going to stay here and watch with you, even if he won’t let me come in. Just tell me when you need fresh water, and I’ll get it right away.”
“If you wish, mistress.” Miriam wouldn’t let her enter, but if the mistress wanted to stay by the doorway, it wasn’t Miriam’s place to tell her she shouldn’t. “Why don’t you get something to sit on? You can’t help if you get too tired.”
She limped back to the master’s bedside and set the bowl on the floor. His eyes flickered open. They were dull and listless, and her concern ramped up. His temperature needed to come down as soon as possible. He seemed hotter than anyone she’d ever seen before.
She folded one of the small towels and soaked it in the cool water. After wringing out the excess, she wiped his face, then draped the towel on his forehead.
The master raised his arm and laid it across the top of his head. The corner of his mouth tipped up, but he didn’t open his eyes.
Miriam dipped the sponge in the cold water and let the excess drip out before she wiped his chest and neck to thoroughly wet his skin. Then she picked up the fan. The evaporating water should cool him, but would it be enough?
When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper. “That does feel better…Got a real treasure when I bought you.”
Miriam’s heart swelled at the word “treasure.” Mistress Claudia called her that all the time, but the master had never said it before. Being a treasure was so much better than being a bargain.
“I’m glad, master. I’ll do this until you cool down enough. Rest now, and enjoy it.”
Titus nodded once and relaxed. He didn’t have to worry. Miriam knew what to do.
Miriam had made Mistress Claudia go to bed after bringing her a bucket of water so she wouldn’t run out in the middle of the night. It was past midnight, and Master Titus was still much hotter than he should be. The master’s breathing was all that broke the silence.
