by Carol Ashby
It wasn’t good for a slave to think you admired him. He might misinterpret it as permission to speak too freely and act as if he were more than property. And Africanus was already taking those kinds of liberties with both Aulus and himself.
After they finished the tour of the ludi, whether they found Callidus or not, it was time to trade Brutus’s pet lion for a bodyguard that belonged to Aulus or him. One who knew both his duties and his place.
Chapter 45: The First Questions
Gaius’s farm, Day 29
Calantha leaned closer to Leander as she examined his first attempt at the cursive letter b. “That’s not bad. Even a child beginning to read would recognize it.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the amused lift of the corner of his mouth.
“I meant that as a compliment, and you know it. The cursive letters can be hard to read if someone writes them too fast. And there are two other forms of this letter that you might see.”
He rubbed his mouth with his left hand. “One, three…it doesn’t matter. I’ll learn them all if you want to teach me.”
She rested her hand on his arm. “You’re getting tired.”
He shook his head and looked away.
“Yes, you are.” With her fingers on his cheek, she turned his eyes back onto hers. “Your eyes tell me the truth, even when your nods and head-shakes don’t.” She stood. “Time for a rest, like we did yesterday.”
“I’m not tired.” He made no move to rise.
She moved behind him and rested her hands atop his shoulders. A gentle squeeze, then she leaned across his shoulder to look into his eyes again. “But I see you are.”
She handed him his crutch. “Follow me to the carob tree.”
With the mistress’s help, Leander lowered himself to the ground. She sat beside him and patted her lap. There was nothing he could do except rest his head in her lap…again.
Was she going to make him do this every time she taught him?
Her fingers slipped into his hair. That felt good…too good.
Mistress Calantha’s smile felt good, too. “If you’re not sleepy yet, will you tell me one of the stories about your god, like you do at dinner when Sextus joins us? After seeing how he healed you, I’ve added him to the gods I already worship.”
Leander’s breath froze. That request was so far beyond anything he’d expected that it was hard not to break into a grin that would make her think he’d suddenly gone crazy. But his delight probably showed in his eyes.
“Marcella will be as happy to know that as I am, but God wants something more. Zalmoxis, the god worshiped by most Dacians, and the Roman gods aren’t real. They only live in the minds of people. They’re just stories passed down from our ancestors. Superstitions, not reality.”
Her head tipped, and her brow furrowed. But it was curiosity he saw in her eyes, not irritation.
“Only the God we worship is real, and He demands that His people worship only Him.”
“But Father says it’s important for us to perform the rituals that keep the gods’ favor toward Rome. They smile on us, and the Empire grows bigger and stronger.”
Her fingers remained in his hair, but they had stopped moving.
His smile turned sad. “I’ve seen how the Empire grows. It’s not by the favor of the Roman gods. It’s the training of Rome’s armies and ruthless determination that crushes weaker foes and makes conquered people slaves.”
Her eyes softened, and she stroked his cheek. “I’m sorry they killed your parents and took your sisters away. I’m sorry you’ve suffered so much.” Her fingers swept the hair from his forehead. “But I saw your god heal you. If he could do that, why did he let you become a slave?”
Her question…so many times he’d asked that himself when Rome crushed his world.
“Sometimes God allows things I don’t understand, but He never leaves me without hope. He brought me to the Crassus estate. Like Apostle Paul said, I served my new masters as if I was serving Lord Jesus. It mostly didn’t feel like slavery. I enjoyed working with the horses. I was content there.”
She stroked his cheek again. “And then we bought you, and I almost got you killed.”
“But God put me in your household, too, and I thank Him that He did.”
Her head bounced back. “How can you say that after all the horrible things that have happened to you?”
How to explain giving thanks in all things? She wasn’t ready to hear that.
“You’re here, safe, and I’ll get you home. That’s worth giving Him thanks.”
“But why did you care so much about what would happen to me? After I let Vilicus lash you, you owed me nothing but pain, like I’d let him give you.”
“But I owe Lord Jesus everything. I only did what He tells me to do.”
“What did he tell you?” That question lit her eyes.
“Jesus told us, ‘If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word. My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our home with him.’ And He went on to say, ‘This is what I command you: Love one another.’ That love He talks about―it’s agape love. Unconditional love. That kind of love is something we do, not how we feel. He also said, ‘No one has greater love than this: to lay down his life for his friends.’
“Jesus’s death bought my freedom from sin and gave me eternal life. Like I told you before, death holds no terror for me. It only opens the way to a better life with Him. It would have been worth my earthly life to keep you free.”
She looked away from him and bit her lip. When her gaze settled on him again, her smile wrapped him in its warmth. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t die. I like you here with me. But it’s time for you to rest, so close your eyes. When you awaken, I’ll teach you how the letter d looks like b even though it’s different.”
He shut his eyes, as ordered. Sometimes her commands were as easy to obey as those of his Lord. Showing Mistress Calantha the love Jesus commanded had become the easiest thing in the world.
And if she was already praying to God, surely He would claim her heart. In Servilia and Marcella, Leander had found Christian sisters once more. Before he returned Mistress Calantha to her father, would he have the joy of seeing her become his sister, too?
Leander’s face was peaceful, but Calantha’s mind wasn’t. His words rattled around her head, knocking into what she’d always taken as fact, threatening to topple her long-held beliefs from their pedestals.
The Christian god was real. She’d seen proof the night the prayers of Gaius and Marcella instantly stopped the infection that was killing Leander. But was it possible that he was the only real god?
Both her mothers had been faithful in their daily worship of the family gods and the gods of Rome. She’d been too young to remember what Mother said, but Trebonia had never talked about any of the gods like Marcella did. She never talked to them in prayer as if they were real people in the room who might answer.
But everyone who came to worship on Solis shared in such prayers. They all spoke as if their god cared about them. And when they met together, there was something…a presence that she couldn’t describe, but she felt it.
And Trebonia had never told Calantha any god loved her. What would a god’s love even feel like? There were many stories of a god loving a woman, but that wasn’t love, only sexual attraction. If a god truly loved her, wouldn’t it be more like how Father loved her and wanted what was best for her?
Her gaze rested on Leander’s eyes. They twitched, like he was dreaming, and that smile that always played at the corner of his mouth grew, then relaxed.
The way Leander’s face glowed when he recited what he said were the words of his Lord Jesus…she’d never seen that on any other man.
What did he mean when he said Jesus’s death bought his freedom from sin and gave him eternal life? Why did that make his own death not matter as long as he could save a stranger? That’s really what she’d been to him. Worse than a str
anger, because she’d caused his lashing.
She rested her hand on his cheek. He didn’t awaken, but his smile seemed to broaden.
So many questions swirled in her mind. But there would be many writing lessons and many chances to cradle his head in her lap while he answered them.
Chapter 46: Not an Emotion
Morning of Day 30
The morning sun streamed through the window, warming Leander with its beams. It would be a beautiful day.
He turned to Gaius. “I’m ready to help you pick off caterpillars.”
Gaius swallowed his mouthful of porridge. “You seem to be getting around better. You can help, but only until you get tired.”
Mistress Calantha sucked in a breath. “I’m not sure he’s ready.”
Marcella, who stood behind the mistress’s chair, placed her hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “Let him do it for a little while. Men turn into grumpy bears if they don’t do something useful.”
The mistress tipped her head back to look at Marcella. “Do you think he’s healed enough to work?”
Marcella squeezed once more before lifting her hands. “I do. Let him work this morning; teach him after lunch.” She moved over to Leander and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “You’ll promise Calantha you’ll quit as soon as you start getting tired, won’t you?” She picked up Gaius’s empty bowl. “Would you men like another serving?”
Leander nodded and held out his bowl.
Mistress Calantha leaned on one elbow. “Does that nod mean you’ll quit when you should or you want more porridge?”
He felt the grin leak out. She knew him too well now. “Both.”
As Marcella set the steaming bowl before him, Leander glanced at Mistress Calantha. Having her safe at the table beside him was worth every drop of blood he’d lost to give her a future.
And if she kept asking him questions until she decided to follow Jesus, that future would be eternity with his Lord.
Afternoon
Leander finished the ten copies of the three different versions of the letter n, and the dirt on the plate now looked like a bird had been dancing on it.
Mistress Calantha leaned over and inspected the last line. “You’ve done an excellent job. That’s twenty-three letters in square script and twelve in cursive. I think thirty-five are enough for one day.”
She rose. “Time for you to rest.”
He tipped his head back and caught her smile. “But I’m not that tired. Sitting a while on the bench by the wall―that will be enough.”
“Simply sitting is not enough. I want you to sleep a while. But only after you explain something you said yesterday.”
“Yesterday?”
“Yes, under the tree. And as soon as we get settled in there, you can start.”
She handed him his crutch, and waited for him to rise.
With his first step, his heart rate ramped up. Apostle Paul had said to always be ready to explain the hope God gave him, but would he find the right words to open Mistress Calantha’s heart and mind to Jesus?
Holy Spirit, show me the way.
Mistress Calantha helped him sit, then sat beside him and patted her lap.
His head in the mistress’s lap―the last thing he wanted, but if that was how she wanted to listen to his words about God… He lowered himself onto her lap and rolled on his back to watch her face.
She smiled down at him. “So, you’re the teacher now, and I have many questions.” She looked away, then back at his eyes. “You said Jesus’s death bought your freedom from sin and gave you eternal life. How does that work?” Again, her eyes focused on the distant hills, then returned to him. “What is sin? How could a man’s death buy your freedom from it?”
Leander drew a deep breath and held it. She needed someone like Apostle John or Apostle Paul, who could explain everything. She only had him.
As he pondered his first words, the warm presence of God surrounded him, and he relaxed. Jesus had promised the Spirit would give the right words when standing before governors and kings. Mistress Calantha was only a person whose heart was responding to the call of God. No reason to fear saying the wrong thing.
“I’ll try to explain, but tell me if I start to confuse you. I’m not a teacher of the faith, so I can only tell you what I’ve heard and seen and felt myself.”
She pushed his hair back from his forehead. “I don’t want a scholar’s explanation. I want to understand what you and Marcella and Gaius believe.”
“You asked the right first question. What makes me a Christian is that I know I’ve sinned, and I also know Jesus paid for my sins so I wouldn’t have to. Sin is anything that separates us from God. It’s doing things that God says I shouldn’t. It’s also not doing things that He says I should. And it’s thinking about things in a way that’s not how God wants me to think about them.”
Her brow furrowed. “But how do you know what your god thinks you should or shouldn’t do?”
“He told us through the messages He gave to the Jewish people hundreds of years ago through Moses and His prophets.”
“But you’re Dacian, not Jewish.”
“Yes, but when Lord Jesus came, He told His Jewish followers that the good news of His coming and paying for sins was for all people everywhere, not just Jews. As Apostle Paul told us, there is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, man or woman…we’re all one in Christ Jesus.”
“No Roman or Dacian?”
“Exactly.”
Mistress Calantha rubbed her lip. “So, what did he say was sin?”
“The short answer…when we fail to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, strength, and when we fail to love others like we love ourselves.”
“Is that why you only worship him and no other gods?”
“Yes.”
Her gaze shifted from his eyes to the distant hills. “I see. But if he is the only real god, like you say, then it would be silly to worship any others.”
“It is.”
“And because they love him with all their heart, mind, and strength…that’s why his followers let themselves be killed rather than offer a sacrifice to the genius of the emperor and the Roman gods.”
“Yes.”
When her eyes refocused on his, her fingertips stroked his stubbled cheek. “Would you?”
“I would. Death holds no terror for me, although I’d rather not die in the arena. Denying Him to save my own life…I wouldn’t really be saving it. I’d only be losing eternity with Jesus and those I love who died before me.”
“And Marcella and Gaius.”
He nodded. And her, if she would only decide to follow his Lord.
She massaged her neck. “And the other part…loving others. Do you have to love everyone?”
“Yes. But it’s not an emotion, like your love for your father and sister and nieces. It’s choosing to do what you can to help someone, wanting what’s best for them even if it costs you. It’s forgiving someone when they hurt you.”
Her head bounced back. “Like Aulus, after all he tried to do to me? After him causing what happened to you?”
“Yes. Even our enemies. Like the Roman who stabbed my father even though he wasn’t armed and the one who slit my mother’s throat when she ran to him.” He turned his eyes on the hills. Even after twelve years, that memory still hurt.
Her soft gasp drew them back to her face.
“Even the ones who dragged my sisters away.”
“But how can you do that? I’ll never forgive Aulus for what he tried to do.” Her eyes flared. “I’ll make certain Father punishes him for it, and I’ll love every moment watching him suffer.”
“That will cost you more than it’s worth. Jesus told us to forgive, just as we’ve been forgiven. He even said if I refuse to forgive, I forfeit the forgiveness of my own sins that His blood bought for me. No vengeance is worth eternity in hell, separated from God.”
Her lips tightened, and sh
e shook her head. “That’s too much to ask. It’s beyond what anyone can do.”
“You’re right. No one can do it alone. But God’s Spirit within me helps me do what I could never do myself. And when I try, the forgiveness comes.”
She bit her lip and looked away.
Calantha tried to wrap her mind around what Leander said about love and forgiveness, and she couldn’t. It wasn’t the Roman way. Vengeance on your enemies, justice instead of mercy…she’d never questioned that before.
When she looked down at him again, his smoke-gray eyes were fixed on hers. He was waiting for her next question, but she had more than enough to think about for one day.
She ran her fingers through his hair. “My lion must be tired. Time for you to sleep a while.”
“But there’s so much I haven’t told you.”
“I know.” She forced a smile. “But I need to think about what you said a while.” Her smile turned real as his calm eyes drew her in. “I’ll have more questions tomorrow. Close your eyes.”
“Whenever you want, just ask.” His eyelids shut, as ordered.
As his weight settled into her lap, his breathing slowed and deepened. After only a few moments, he was asleep.
Calantha’s brow furrowed. His god’s most important commands were to love. Love without limits, and Leander had that kind of love. Love that inspired forgiveness, not vengeance. Love that was something you did, not what you felt. Love that would make a man she’d never called by name take an arrow so she wouldn’t die.
Was that kind of love possible…for her?
Chapter 47: Never Time to Despair
Via Salaria north of Rome, Day 30
