True Freedom

by Carol Ashby

  Drusus’s voice came from Titianus’s left. “Brutus sent Africanus with us to help pick out the right bodyguard for Aulus.”

  Titianus blanked his face. “One of Brutus’s gladiators should be a good judge. I trust you’ll find the right man.”

  With a curt nod to the two senatorial sons and a flick of his hand to signal his men to follow, he turned and continued toward the Amphitheater.

  With his back toward Drusus and Secundus, he let the mask fall away.

  His eyes narrowed. Julia Secunda had vanished without a trace, and he’d be willing to bet two months’ wages that Drusus and Secundus knew more than they’d told him.

  Much more. Nothing would keep him from learning what they didn’t want him to know. And if they’d broken the laws of Rome, he’d make certain they paid for it.

  Chapter 39: Grief and Hope

  Gaius’s farm, evening of Day 25

  Calantha stepped outside, carrying two pillows. When Gaius had come in from the vineyard, he’d helped Leander outside for a change of view and some conversation while she and Marcella finished the dinner preparation.

  Leander sat on a bench, resting his head against the wall. Gaius sat beside him.

  She set one pillow down and clutched the second to her chest. “I’ve brought a pillow for Leander to sit on.”

  When she raised her eyebrows at Gaius, he mimicked her. “Did Marcella send you, or is it your own idea to make him stand up before you’ll let him sit and relax?”

  He chuckled, but he also helped Leander onto his good leg so she could place the pillow under him. As Gaius lowered him back onto the bench. Calantha slipped the second pillow behind his back.

  She gave them both a smile. “It’s a good idea, no matter which of us thought of it first.”

  Leander tipped his head to look up at her. “Thank you.”

  “Salve.” The voice behind her made Calantha spin.

  Sextus stepped out from between the rows of grapes. Gaius walked over to meet him. After a quick hug and a slap on the shoulder, Gaius settled on the second bench with Sextus beside him.

  One corner of Gaius’s mouth turned up. “You can tell her he has two friends to take care of him now, so she needn’t worry.”

  With a wave, Calantha stepped back inside.

  As Marcella placed the last slices of cheese on the serving plate, she looked over her shoulder. “Is Sextus here?”

  Calantha leaned on the counter beside her. “He just arrived.” She picked up a sliver of cheese and popped it into her mouth. “The other day, I noticed how sad he looked when he watched the wagon leave. Is there a reason?”

  Marcella’s lips straightened. “It reminds him of what he lost. His wife died six months ago. I’ve been inviting him for dinner a few times each week since then. He and Favonia were very close. Jesus tells us that two become one flesh in Christian marriage. When one is suddenly gone, whoever remains feels like their own heart died with the one they loved. It’s not something we get over quickly. Sextus was always such a cheerful man, but he’s only now coming back to his old self. It’s hard to be alone.”

  “Is his farm like yours?”

  “It’s bigger. He grows vegetables and fruit, but he also raises sheep. He makes very good money selling their fleece to women living in the city.”

  “If he’s a successful farmer, there must be fathers with older daughters or widows who would be delighted to have him as a husband.”

  “They would.” Marcella’s eyes softened. “But that’s not the problem. Christian men only marry women who love God and follow Jesus. He doesn’t know any Christian women who aren’t married.”

  Calantha looked up from rearranging the cheese slices into a pattern. “Servilia looks like she might be close to his age. Have you thought about introducing them? She was so kind to Leander, just like you, and so brave the way she took us in and hid us from the kidnappers. She’d make a wonderful wife for him.”

  Marcella’s smile turned into a chuckle. “I hadn’t thought about that, but it’s definitely worth thinking about.”

  When Marcella called out that dinner was ready, Leander gripped Gaius’s arm to help him stand. With the crutch under his left arm, he hobbled back into the house and lowered himself onto a chair. Sextus followed with the pillows.

  After leaning Leander’s crutch against the wall, Gaius disappeared down the hallway and returned with an extra chair.

  Mistress Calantha moved behind him as Gaius shuffled the chairs to make room for five. He jumped when her hands settled on each side of his neck and gently squeezed.

  “Would you rather have me sit on your left or your right to help you?”

  “Whatever you want.” He’d rather have Gaius on one side and Sextus on the other, but how to tell her that?

  “Maybe to your right so I can be your extra right arm when you need it.”

  He twisted to look up at her and nodded.

  When all had seated themselves, Gaius led them in prayer. Sextus and Gaius sat to his left, and that’s the direction Leander kept his gaze while they ate.

  He’d scraped the last bite of stew from his bowl when Sextus leaned forward to rest his elbow on the table and cradle his jaw.

  “It was good having you share on Solis. Before we pray and I head home, would you share something again?”

  Leander placed his spoon in the empty bowl. “Something from the gospels or from Apostle Paul’s letters?”

  Sextus shrugged. “I don’t care. Something to think about tonight when I’m alone. It’s nighttime when I miss Favonia most.”

  Leander rested his good arm on the sling. “Apostle Paul wrote something to the church in Thessalonica that I often thought about after my parents died and I was coming alone to Rome.”

  He straightened in the chair and closed his eyes. “‘But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep. For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep.’”

  When he opened his eyes, he leaned forward and placed his hand on Sextus’s arm. “‘For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words.’”

  Leander lowered his gaze to the table and drew a deep breath before looking straight at Sextus. “I watched both my parents die the same day. And when grief was hardest upon me, I kept reminding myself of what Lord Jesus said. ‘For this is the will of My Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in Him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.’

  “Lord Jesus has promised, so we know it will come. And on that day when the trumpet sounds, the joy of that reunion with those we love…” He closed his eyes, and the warmth of God’s presence surrounded him before he reopened them. “Words can’t even describe what I can imagine, and the reality will be so much greater than that.”

  Sextus’s smile started small, then grew as the fire in his eyes kindled. Then he whispered, “Yes!”

  Gaius’s beaming smile swept around the table. “Let’s pray. We thank You, Father, for the gift of eternal life through the blood of Your Son Jesus, and for the joy and hope that gives us even here on earth. Thank You for Your word that can’t be broken, and for bringing us Leander to share it with us. May Your peace be with us all until we meet together again. In the name of Your Son, Jesus our Lord, amen.”

  When Sextus spoke of his wife, Calantha heard the pain-wrapped wistfulness in his voice. That same pain h
ad colored Father’s voice when her stepmother died.

  Her own mother had died when she was barely four, and she had a few treasured memories of the smiles on her mother’s face. Faint memories also remained of lullabies and laughter and an arm wrapped around her as she sat in a lap. Apicula had held her as she sobbed, then dried her tears when Mother’s body was carried away to be burned. But when Father remarried and brought Trebonia Procula and her daughter Antonia to the Secundus estate, she had again been showered with love, and she drank it in until the desert place in her heart was lush with flowers again.

  Father had shown both his wives warm affection as well as respect. She’d hoped for the same from Metilia’s brother. That was rare among senatorial men, who married for political alliances, not love, and asked only that their wives run their households well and never do anything to cause embarrassment. But what woman wouldn’t grow to love Father, no matter how she felt on the day of their marriage?

  It had been four years since Trebonia’s death, and a whiff of lavender on a passing woman was still enough to trigger memories of special times together and that hollow feeling of loss.

  Father told her Trebonia awaited them in the Elysian Fields, but the deadness of his eyes as he spoke those words was nothing like the hope that danced in Sextus’s. Like the certainty in Leander’s as he spoke of his parents and the new life together his god would give them all.

  Calantha massaged her neck. The god of Leander had the power to heal a dying man. But did he have that much power over death itself?

  Chapter 40: Making the First Connection

  The Secundus villa, Day 26

  As Marcus strode through the Secundus atrium on the way to Gallio’s office, his mouth turned down. When he put his stallion in the empty stall he always used, there was no water or feed waiting for him. He’d stuck his head through the garden archway and yelled at Vilicus. The overseer had hurried over and then promised to have someone take care of the horse immediately, but Marcus had his doubts.

  When he entered the office, Gallio sat behind his desk, elbows on the desktop, forehead resting on his palms. Aulus held a stylus, tapping restlessly on the arm of his chair.

  “Sorry I’m late. I had to stable my horse myself. Any news?” Marcus took the second chair by the desk.

  Gallio shook his head.

  Aulus stopped drumming. “That stable slave never seems to be where he should be. I’m tired of riding the mares while I wait for my stallion to be trained. Vilicus should stop using him for other work until he finishes what we bought him for.”

  Gallio’s head snapped back, and he stared at Aulus.

  Aulus returned the stare. “What?”

  “How could you not know that stable slave is the same one who disappeared when Mistress Julia did? Vilicus put him on the litter when your stallion killed her bearer. Now he has another slave feed and water the horses and occasionally clean the stalls, but that’s all. That stallion lets someone into the stall with food and water. He’ll sometimes let them clip a lead to his halter, but he doesn’t let them touch him.”

  The slaps of scurrying sandals grew louder until the boy stuck his head in. “Steward, Tribune Titianus is back.”

  Gallio perked up. “Bring him immediately.” As the slave hurried away, he smiled at Aulus. “Perhaps he has some news about where Mistress Julia might be.” His smile dimmed. “But perhaps that news is bad.”

  The rapid click of hobnails on marble announced the tribune before he stepped into the room, red cape hanging from his shoulder, red-crested helmet still on his head.

  He tipped his head toward Aulus. “Secundus.” Another quick tip to Marcus. “Drusus.” When the slave offered him a goblet, he waved it away. Then his gaze settled on Gallio.

  “I have several questions and a few things to report. First, the questions.”

  Titianus crossed his arms. “Was there anything unusual going on with Julia? She deliberately went into a bad part of Rome. Subura is not an area where young noblewomen…” He shifted to face Aulus squarely. “Or young noblemen would normally go.”

  Aulus tensed. Marcus shifted in his chair, trying to draw Titianus’s attention, but it didn’t work.

  “Was there any reason to suspect she was meeting someone other than her grieving friend?”

  “No.” Gallio’s voice turned the tribune’s head toward him. “The man who came for her said he’d come from Metilia Neposa. Julia was expecting her to return to Rome that week. I’d never seen him before, but the Nepos household has more than a hundred slaves, so that didn’t seem odd.”

  “Aulus.” Gallio leaned forward. “You two ate together the night before. Did she say anything?”

  Aulus shook his head.

  Arms still crossed, only Titianus’s torso turned toward Marcus. “Are you aware that the house from which she disappeared is the property of Lucius Claudius Drusus? A strange coincidence that it belongs to your father, Marcus.”

  “Really? Father does own rental property all over Rome, so I’m not surprised he has some in that part of Subura. As you say, a strange coincidence, or perhaps a twisted sense of humor on the part of the gods.”

  A soft snort accompanied the downturn of the tribune’s mouth. “The neighbors said it had been empty, presumably waiting for a new renter. But several reported a man had been living there for at least four days before her disappearance. He’d been seen eating in the local taberna several times. Three days before the kidnapping, he’d eaten with a thin man. The thin one wasn’t a regular customer, but the proprietor had seen him in the area before. Neither man has been seen at the taberna since the night before the kidnapping.”

  Marcus leaned forward. “What did the men look like?”

  “The one living in the house looked mid-forties and had the haircut and bearing of a soldier. The other, a thin man about the same age who looked Roman.”

  Aulus had been sitting on the edge of his chair, rocking slightly while Titianus talked.

  Marcus rose and turned his back to Titianus before he rested his hand on Aulus’s shoulder. “I told you Titianus would be the man to figure out where she’s gone.”

  With his eyes and one quick squeeze, he signaled his friend to calm down. The rocking stopped.

  Marcus turned to face the tribune. “Let’s go ask the bearers if that sounds like the man who led Julia into the house.” He faked an optimistic smile as he faced Titianus. “Finding that man is the first step to finding Julia. Let’s go see if we’re on the right track at last.”

  Near the Flavian Amphitheater

  Late afternoon found Aulus, Marcus, and Africanus on a backstreet half a mile from the Amphitheater. As the door of the eighth and final ludus where Callidus might be closed behind Aulus, his shoulders sagged. No sign of Callidus, so no trail to Julia.

  Africanus stepped up beside him. “We’re not through looking yet.”

  Aulus rolled his eyes. “But where? If we can’t find him, we’ll never find her.”

  “Master Brutus and I talked about this last night and planned the next step.”

  Grim-faced, Marcus joined them from his place leaning against the wall. “No Callidus?”

  Aulus tightened his lips and shook his head. “No.” He glanced at the gladiator. “But Africanus says there’s a plan for what to do next.”

  Marcus’s eyes narrowed. His gaze swept over Africanus before switching to Aulus. “Then let’s go talk with Brutus. The sooner we move to the next step, the sooner we find her.”

  Marcus slapped Aulus’s arm and started up the street toward the Vicus Sandaliarius and the Ludus Bruti.

  Aulus trotted a few steps to catch up, then walked at Marcus’s side.

  Africanus’s voice came from behind them. “He won’t be there. Return first thing tomorrow with good horses, and we’ll continue the hunt.”

  Aulus looked back over his shoulder. “Will my mare be good enough?”

  “No. It will be a hard day
in the saddle.”

  Marcus’s voice drew Aulus’s eyes. “I can send to the eastern estate for my other stallion.”

  Africanus cleared his throat. “If it can’t get here so we can leave the ludus before midmorning or isn’t fit enough for the distance, I’ll take the master’s horse, and Aulus will ride mine.”

  Marcus swung around to face Africanus. “I only ride the best. And if you presume to take your master’s horse, what do you expect him to ride?”

  Africanus’s shoulders squared. “I’ll judge the fitness of the horse for how far and how fast we must ride.” His mouth twitched. “When I take Master Brutus’s horse, he uses Rufus’s.”

  Aulus placed his hand on Marcus’s arm. “I don’t care what I ride as long as it helps us find Julia.”

  Marcus’s lips tightened as his gaze raked Africanus. Then he turned and started up the street. “Let’s go. Gallio is waiting to hear what we found today.”

  Aulus rubbed his neck before following. Brutus had been right when he said it would have been best to simply tell Gallio he’d lost the money. It would still have been all right if Marcus’s father hadn’t been too afraid of Sabinus to help. Using the ransom money had sounded like a good idea, and it would have been if the ex-legionary had been an honest man.

  He glanced at Marcus, striding at his side, and the corners of his mouth turned up. When Fortuna frowns and things go from bad to worse, a man is lucky to have a friend who’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.

  Chapter 41: The Same but Different

  Day 26

  Since breakfast, Calantha had been working on the cloak for Leander, but it was time for a break. She needed to move and stretch. Standing while reaching up over and over as she used the comb to control the selvedge loops and push the weft yarn up to the growing sheet of fabric was tiring. Plus the width of the cloak made her slip the weaving sword in from both sides to push the yarn firmly into place as she opened the space between the two sets of vertical warp yarns for the next pass of the shuttle.