by Carol Ashby
She turned over the cloth on his forehead to place the cool side against his skin. When she laid the back of her hand on his cheek, he still felt terribly hot, but at least he didn’t seem to be getting hotter. Once more, she lifted the sponge from the bowl to let the excess drain. When she began to stroke his chest and neck with it, a sigh came from deep within him.
“Feels good, Miriam. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Shhh. Don’t talk, master. Just go to sleep. You should feel much better when you awake.”
The corner of his mouth barely rose. His deep, slow breathing soon told her he was asleep.
She’d been praying for the master since she first felt his forehead. Tonight would be one of intense prayer. He was still much too hot, and he seemed weaker. She’d do all she could to help him feel better, but only God could heal. If only He would!
Titus awoke shortly before dawn. He expected to feel much better. He didn’t. When he opened his eyes, Miriam was kneeling on the floor beside his bed with her arm that held the fan stretched out across his legs and her head lying on her arm.
When he stirred, she jerked awake.
“Forgive me, master. I didn’t mean to stop.” She stood and lifted the dry cloth from his forehead to dip it again in the cool water.
He closed his eyes. When she wiped his face with the cool, damp cloth before placing it back on his forehead, the corners of his mouth twitched up. He didn’t have the energy for a full smile.
When Miriam touched the master’s cheek, he was still burning up. She lifted the sponge from the bowl and began again to wet his neck and chest.
God, please take this fever and heal him. She tried to push the thought away, but she knew a fever that raged this long and this hot usually ended in death.
They needed a miracle to save them all. Mistress Claudia didn’t need to have her heart broken again, and Miriam didn’t want any other master but him. But most important, the master didn’t follow Jesus; he wasn’t prepared to die.
Chapter 65: Not Prepared to Die
Miriam heard Mistress Claudia’s footsteps scurrying down the balcony just after dawn.
“How is he, Miriam?” Hope brightened her face until she caught a glimpse of Master Titus. Then her eyes filled with fear.
Miriam limped over to the doorway so she could speak without the master hearing.
“He’s still too hot, but he isn’t getting any hotter, praise God! I’m going to keep cooling him with water, but I need Nestor to go the apothecary for some medicine. There are herbs that help cool a fever, and that would make him feel better.”
Claudia rested a palm on her cheek. “I’ve been praying so hard for him. What if God doesn’t listen to my prayers?”
“He always listens, mistress. Sometimes He just doesn’t answer them quickly or in the way we want.” She turned to look at the master. “I believe in my heart that God will heal him. I just don’t know when. We must keep praying and listening for what God wants us to do to help him. Right now, that’s cooling him and getting the medicine.”
Claudia pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll find Nestor and tell him what we need. He can be at the apothecary waiting when they open.”
Miriam limped back to the bed and resumed her efforts to bring the master’s temperature down. As she stroked his neck with the wet sponge, she gazed at his closed eyes. What would happen if they lost him?
If she lost him.
Last night had been disturbing in more ways than one. After pouring her heart out to God for hours, begging for the master’s healing, what she finally admitted to herself was a disturbing revelation.
She loved her mistress more than anyone she’d ever known. She loved her like the sister she’d never had. But just before dawn, she realized the way she cared for the master was different from how she’d ever felt about anyone.
He wasn’t quite as kind as Master Alexander, but her former master had been a Christian. He’d treated her more like a father would than like a master. Still, Master Titus always had kind words for her, and any room seemed brighter whenever he was there.
Master Titus’s smiles showed how glad he was to see her when he returned home. When he stole a bite of something, he’d deliberately brush against her hand or arm and then laugh when she got flustered. Sometimes he’d even stop and talk to her for a little while before going to find Mistress Claudia. Almost every day he told her he appreciated something she’d done for him or his sister.
Sometimes he even helped her when Nestor wasn’t around and something was too hard to do by herself. His smile when she thanked him lit up her world.
He didn’t mind that she was a cripple. When it took a little longer to do something because of her leg, he never complained. He usually said it didn’t matter or joked about not buying her for footraces.
He was so strong, but he was always gentle with her. He’d promised he’d never hit her, and she couldn’t imagine him ever doing anything to deliberately cause her pain.
Mistress Claudia loved Master Titus dearly as a brother, and who wouldn’t? Miriam found herself loving him, too, but not just as a master who treated her well.
As the black of night lightened to a dark shade of gray, she finally admitted to herself that she loved him...as a man.
She’d never expected to love a man, but she’d fallen in love with this kind man who loved his sister so dearly that Miriam knew he had the best heart in the world.
Nothing would ever come of it. He was her master, and she was only his slave, but she’d grown to love him anyway. She’d do anything for him, even give up her own life to save his. She’d be as broken hearted as Mistress if he were to die.
She wet the cloth again. When she placed it back on his forehead, he didn’t move at all. Her breath caught. He usually responded in some way, even if it was only the slightest smile.
“Master?”
She placed her hand on his shoulder and shook him. Still no response. Panic coursed through her. She laid her head on his chest and listened for a heartbeat.
What relief when she heard it, steady and strong, but his chest felt so hot against her cheek. Had anything she’d done lowered his temperature at all?
Her lips quivered. “Oh, God! Please! Spare him. We need him.” I love him...and he’s not prepared to die.
Tears trickled across her cheek, past her ear, and into the thick brown hair on his chest. She kept her cheek pressed against him, listening to his heartbeat as she cried out to God.
At long last, he stirred, and a soft sigh escaped.
“Miriam?” Mistress Claudia’s voice quavered as she stood in the doorway. “Is he dead?”
Miriam sat up and turned toward Mistress. “No, but he is still hot. I need to keep cooling him.”
“Nestor just left to get the medicine.” The mistress’s eyes swam in unshed tears. “Oh, Miriam. He’s been hot much too long.”
“Well, yes. It’s longer than I would have hoped, but I’ve seen longer. Just keep praying.”
She’d seen longer, and most of the ones who’d been this hot for this long had also died. But not all, and surely God could spare Master Titus like he had those.
She wet the sponge and once more began the cycle of sponging and fanning. He might not be getting cooler, but at least he wasn’t getting hotter, and that was something to be thankful for.
It was mid-morning when Nestor returned with the herbs. Mistress Claudia was in the kitchen with him preparing the tea according to the directions from the apothecary.
Miriam pulled her shoulders back, stretching a back that was too tired from too many hours at his side, sponging and fanning until she thought her arm would fall off.
“Master? Can you look at me? I’ll have some tea in just a little while that should make you feel better.” Miriam shook his shoulder. “Try to look at me.”
The master opened his eyes, and a slow smile
appeared. “Pretty face...Shouldn’t be...too hard...to look at.”
Scarlet washed over her cheeks and up to her ears. He’d never said such a thing to her before. She didn’t know what to say, so she just lifted the cloth from his forehead and dipped it in the cool water. After wringing it out, she wiped his face before replacing it. He sighed deeply.
She wasn’t sure if he was getting better or worse. He still felt too hot, and he was so weak. But his eyes had seemed a little brighter before they closed. Watching the man she loved suffer hurt more than she’d ever imagined, but she’d never been in love before.
When Miriam heard Mistress Claudia’s footsteps on the balcony, she met her at the door. Mistress had a cup of the herbal tea on a tray. When Miriam touched it, she snatched her hand back. It was still too hot for him to drink.
“Do you think this will break the fever?” Mistress bit her lip.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure it will help. He seems a little more alert than he was, and I think that’s a good sign. Maybe God has already started healing him.”
Miriam didn’t tell the mistress what the master said. His words were something precious that she wouldn’t share with anyone.
Mistress blew on the tea to hasten its cooling. “I don’t know what I’d do right now without Jesus. I’m so scared for Titus, but praying helps so much.”
“I know. God has been giving me strength for taking care of him.” She pushed a strand of hair back from her forehead. “I’m really not very strong myself.”
Mistress’s head snapped back. “Not strong? The only person I’ve ever known who’s stronger than you is Philip. But I hadn’t thought about how hard it is to keep tending him. Are you sure I can’t take a turn so you can rest?”
Miriam shook her head. “Not until the fever breaks. He didn’t want you to risk catching this. After it breaks, we’ll see.”
“But he’s letting you risk it. Why can’t I?”
Miriam’s eyebrows rose. “Because I’m only his slave, and it won’t matter that much to him if I catch it and die. He doesn’t especially care about me.”
It hurt to say that, but she knew it was true. Her love was not returned and never would be. Even though he treated her kindly, he only saw her as his slave.
“I can’t believe that. It would break my heart to lose you. Titus must care, too.”
Miriam’s heart warmed at those words. To serve a mistress who loved her like a sister was pure joy.
“It would break my heart if I let you help and you got sick and died. I’d rather die myself.” She would start crying if their conversation continued, so she stopped it.
“The tea is probably cool enough. Time for me to try to get him to drink it.” She took the tray and returned to his bedside, where she placed it on a small table.
“Master? Time for your tea. I’m going to hold you up so you can drink it.”
He opened his eyes again and slowly nodded.
She lifted his shoulders and slid herself behind him until she could lean his head back against her shoulder. She wrapped one arm around his chest to support him, then brought the cup of tea to his lips. He raised his hand to rest it on her arm, but he didn’t try to take the cup.
“Drink this, master. It should help.”
He opened his lips and let her give him the tea, sip by sip. When the cup was empty, his arm dropped back onto the bed. “Not...as good as...your dinners.”
“I’ll prepare your most favorite as soon as you’re better.” He was so weak. She fought tears. If she wasn’t his slave, what it would be like to have him in her arms? Nothing like this.
“Best cook...in the city.” He sighed again.
“Time for you to rest, master.” She set the cup on the table and slid out from under him so he could lie back on the bed.
She replaced the cool cloth on his forehead. With the wet sponge in her hand, she resumed the fight against the fever. Only God could save the master. If only He would.
Miriam was pleased with the effect of the tea. Master Titus was still too hot, but he seemed cooler than he’d been since the first evening. She’d been trying to bring his temperature down for a full day, and she was desperately tired. Only her prayers had enabled her to stay awake to tend him. Except for that brief time when she dozed off, she hadn’t slept at all. Mistress brought her bread, fruit, and cheese at meal times, so at least she hadn’t gone hungry, too.
It was time to get the master to drink another cup of the tea. He’d been mostly sleeping even while she sponged him, which was probably a good thing. She lifted the cool cloth off his forehead and wiped his face. She laid her hand on his cheek and gazed at his closed eyelids. It would have been wonderful to touch his face as he looked at her with love in his eyes. But that was a dream that would never come true. It would have to be enough that she could show her love by caring for him.
“Master?” She shook his shoulder.
He opened his eyes and almost managed a smile. The tea had done nothing to help his weakness.
“Master, it’s time for another cup of tea.”
“Did it...help much?”
“I think you feel cooler, so yes, I think it did. I’m going to hold you up again.”
“Nurse, too...for four hundred...real bargain.” He tried to smile.
“I’m glad you think so, master.”
Her voice cracked. The master was a little cooler, but he might die anyway. How could she watch the man she loved die, knowing he’d be lost forever because he didn’t follow Jesus? Her eyes filled with tears, and one trickled down her cheek.
He reached up and caught the tear with his finger, sweeping it slowly off her cheek. His touch felt so wonderful. If only it were for another reason.
“Don’t...scare Claudia.”
“Yes, master.” She flicked the rest of her tears away.
She rested his head against her shoulder as she had before and held the cup as he drank. He definitely felt a little cooler. Not cool enough yet, but definitely cooler.
When he finished, she lowered him back onto the bed.
“Rest now. I’ll be here as long as you need me.”
He barely nodded, then drifted off to sleep.
She replaced the cloth on his forehead and picked up the sponge again. She would never tell this man how much she loved him, but she could pour her heart into caring for him. The words would always remain unspoken, but she could show it by caring for him well. It was never words that revealed how deep love was.
It was another long night without sleep for Miriam. She thought she’d made it through without dozing, but she couldn’t be sure. The master was still hot, but at least he’d slept peacefully through the night. Maybe he was starting to improve.
Mistress Claudia appeared shortly after dawn, so Miriam met her at the door.
“Is he better this morning?” Hope brightened Mistress’s voice.
“I can’t tell for sure, but maybe. I think he slept better.”
“I’ve been praying and praying. I wish Titus believed in Jesus so he would be praying, too. Maybe then God would heal him.”
Titus was drifting in and out of a light sleep. He briefly opened his eyes to see Miriam at the door, talking with Claudia. His eyes were closed when he caught a fragment of their conversation.
“Jesus healed sick people all the time. They didn’t all believe in him. Sometimes it was the people who loved them who believed.”
“Well, I believe in Jesus, and you believe in Jesus, so maybe Titus will be healed because of our faith.”
“God is merciful, and I still think He will heal him. I expect the fever to break soon.”
He slipped back into deeper sleep and heard no more.
It was mid-morning when his fever broke. When Miriam was certain his temperature was falling, she dropped the sponge into the water and fell to her knees beside his bed. She raised her hands and sang a psalm of thanksgiving. God had been so merciful t
o the master and mistress...and her.
Master Titus would recover, Mistress Claudia wouldn’t lose another person she loved, and she would still have the best master she’d ever had. Well, maybe the second best. Master Alexander really was a better master, but she hadn’t loved him the same way she loved Master Titus.
From the doorway, Mistress saw her joyful face and heard her song.
“Miriam? Have all our prayers been answered?”
“Oh, yes! He’s going to be fine in a few days. He just needs to eat well to get his strength back.”
“Can I sit with him now while you go rest?”
Miriam was totally exhausted, or she would have stayed to see him awaken. To be with him when he opened his eyes and tell him he was going to be fine...nothing could delight her more. His smile of appreciation would brighten her world. Maybe he would even tell her again that she was a treasure. In her heart, she longed to be there, but in her head, she knew she desperately needed to get some rest or she might become sick herself. She couldn’t keep Mistress Claudia from tending her, and she didn’t want to risk Mistress getting sick because of her.
“Yes, but don’t sit too close to the bed. He might still be afraid you’ll get sick, and you don’t want to make him worry. When he wakes up, get him to drink plenty of water with only a little wine mixed in. And see if he’ll eat something. Some bread or cheese or grapes. I’ll rest for a while, but don’t forget to wake me to make dinner.”
Claudia set a chair by the window and picked up a scroll that Titus had been reading.
“I’ll do everything you say, Miriam.”
Miriam paused in the doorway to look back at the peaceful face of her sleeping master. Her heart swelled with prayers of thanksgiving that God had chosen to spare the man she loved.
When Titus finally awoke late in the afternoon, Claudia was reading by the window.
