by Carol Ashby
Aulus arched his back and shifted on his saddle. It was only midmorning, but he was ready to quit for the day. Alba Longa and Tusculum three days earlier, Tiber two days ago, Ostia yesterday, and Fidenae today. No sign of Callidus in any of them.
Already more than a hundred milia ridden, and thirty more to go before they reached their final destination in Trebula Mutuesca. At least Father had a cousin with an estate just outside the town, so there would be a hot meal tonight, a soft bed, and a good breakfast before having to ride another forty back to Rome.
His back was tired, his legs were tired, and his mind was exhausted. He’d be willing to ride to the Alpes and back if he knew he’d find Julia there, but the longer they looked, the less likely that seemed.
Africanus rode a short distance ahead. It was better that way. Aulus glanced at Marcus, who rode in silence beside him. Marcus couldn’t resist trying to bait Africanus, and every time the gladiator ignored the taunt or turned it cleverly back on Marcus, Aulus’s best friend seethed.
When Africanus reined in by the bridge over a tree-lined stream, Aulus drew a deep breath and drained his lungs with a deeper sigh. It was time for lunch, but there would probably be more verbal sparring for dessert.
Marcus might be eager for that contest, but all Aulus wanted was to get off his horse, flop on the grass under a tree, and rest.
As they rode up beside Africanus, Marcus raised his chin. “Why are you stopping?”
Africanus swung his leg over his horse’s neck and slid off. “This is the halfway point. The horses need a rest.” A smile started on one side of his mouth, but not the other. “They’re not the only ones.”
Marcus’s mouth twitched. “If you’re too tired to ride a few more miles, I suppose we’ll have to stop to rest you as well.”
Aulus slipped off the chestnut stallion. “Well, I welcome however long the horses need.”
Africanus took Aulus’s reins and headed toward a clump of trees just upstream. “We’ll eat first. Then sleep if you wish. I’ll watch the horses until it’s time to ride again.”
Aulus walked beside Marcus, who didn’t dismount until they reached the trees. His friend’s eyelids drooped. He must be at least as tired as Aulus felt.
When Africanus pulled the rolls and cheese from the sack tied to his saddle, Aulus took one roll and waved the rest away. “Cousin Quadratus will serve a good dinner tonight. I’d rather sleep.”
After wolfing it down, he pulled the cloak that hung off his shoulder over his head and rolled it into a pillow. Then he lowered himself to the ground, placed his cheek on the cloak, and closed his eyes.
Aulus awoke with a start to find Africanus squatting beside him.
“Time to ride again.” The gladiator’s deep voice spoke the words quietly.
When Aulus sat up, his gaze settled on Marcus, who lay flat on his back, eyes closed, mouth open. “Let him sleep a little longer. We were both about to fall out of our saddles before you stopped.” He patted the ground. “Sit, and let’s talk.”
With the grace of a hunting cat, Africanus shifted from squatting to sitting. “About what?”
“How you came to be Brutus’s man for solving problems. He consults with you before we do anything.”
Africanus shrugged, but the corners of his mouth also lifted. “Marcus would tell you a gladiator’s history wasn’t worth knowing.”
“Well, he’d be wrong.”
The gladiator’s mouth curved more. “Ask what you want to know. I might tell you.”
“Where are you from? How did you come to Brutus’s ludus?”
“I’m of the Nuba people in the mountains south of Aethiopia. Slavers from Aegypt attacked our village when the fighting men were gone. I was fourteen years then, just learning the ways of war. They took me down-river.”
“Past the cataracts of the Nile? Is that why you hated them?”
Africanus tipped his head once. “In Alexandria, I was sold and sent to the arena in Cyrene.”
“And you learned to fight there?”
“I learned to kill there.” His mouth twitched. “I learned to stay calm in a fight, to give the crowd a show, and to see the moment of weakness when it’s easiest to end it. The lanista sold me for many times what he paid for a Nubian boy.”
“Did Brutus buy you there?”
“No. That buyer took me to Liternum on the coast north of Neapolis. One of the Brutus estates is near there. It has large vineyards and a winery. His father built a merchant fleet sailing out of Puteoli, so Master Brutus loads his own ship in Liternum to bring the wine to Rome.”
A flick of Africanus’s hand chased away a fly. “He was checking on the fleet and estate for his father when he saw me fight.” A wry smile curved his mouth. “His father had given him control of the Ludus Bruti when he turned twenty. When Master Brutus sees something he wants, he knows how to get it at a good price.”
“So, you’ve fought for him for ten years?”
“Almost fifteen.”
The fly moved to Aulus’s arm. When he swatted at it, he missed. “If you earn your freedom, will you go back home?”
A laughing snort answered the question. “My life is in Rome. I have a wife and family: a son and daughter and another one coming. I have the respect and friendship of the man I work for. After so many years, nothing in Nuba would be the same. Where I came from is no longer home.”
Marcus stirred and rolled onto his side.
Africanus stood. “Wake your friend.” His eyes lit with silent laughter. “He won’t draw a dagger on you.”
Aulus’s head bounced back. “He wouldn’t draw on you, either.”
The amusement spread from Africanus’s eyes to his mouth. “A wise man wouldn’t, but wisdom is not something your friend has learned yet. Perhaps he will in time, if he lives long enough.”
Aulus rubbed his neck as Africanus headed over to the horses. Wisdom wasn’t something he’d learned yet either. One of the philosophers his tutor often quoted said wisdom came from experience.
With the way things were going since their stupid plan to get ransom money for Julia twisted out of control, he’d be a much wiser man by the time this nightmare ended.
Roma, Day 31
After ten hours in the saddle, Aulus and his party rode through the Porta Collina and followed the Vicus Longus off the Quirinal Hill into the heart of Rome. Africanus had kept them at a walk because the chestnut stallion Aulus was riding seemed too tired after trotting a distance that hadn’t been a problem for it three days earlier.
That decision was good for the horse, but not for Marcus’s temper. An off-hand comment by Africanus that they should have used Rufus’s horse for the longest ride had pricked Marcus’s pride. That led to verbal jabs about slaves and gladiators that Africanus either ignored or silently laughed at. And each time Marcus didn’t get the response he wanted, his mood soured more.
Aulus had never seen a more welcome sight than the gate of the ludus stable yard. But four days and 160 milia passuum had brought them no closer to finding Julia than they’d been the morning she disappeared.
Where was she? Was she locked up somewhere, frightened or hurt? Was she still alive? Aulus sagged as he rode through the gate. If they couldn’t find Callidus, how could they ever find her?
Africanus reined over beside him. “It’s not time to despair. The fight isn’t lost until you stop fighting. We’ve been waiting to give Callidus time to reach Luna before we go. He’s more likely to be there than anywhere we’ve looked.”
Aulus slumped more. “Another six days on the road?” Then he straightened. “Whatever it takes.” He patted the chestnut’s neck. “But this one’s not up to it without a good rest.”
“He doesn’t need to be. We’ll go by sea. Only three and a half days from Portus to Luna.”
Aulus’s eyebrows rose. “I’ve never been on a ship. Neither has Marcus.”
Marcus rode up on the other side of Aulus. “
But it should be an interesting voyage along the coast. I’ve heard the views are magnificent.” He crossed his arms. “It should be a novel experience for you, Africanus. You’ll get to travel on the deck of a ship. You should find it more enjoyable than being chained in the hold.”
One corner of Africanus’s mouth lifted “I’ve gone north and south along the coast of Italia more times than some Roman youths have been thirty milia from Rome.” His whole mouth curved into a smile. “But you needn’t worry, even if this is your first sea voyage. I’ll get you safely to Luna and back.”
Marcus’s eyebrows plunged. “I’m not some child who needs a guardian.”
Aulus nudged his horse forward so his body broke their eye contact. “But I could use one.” He smiled at Africanus. “It’s good we have you as guide and bodyguard.”
Africanus slipped from his horse and handed the reins to the waiting stable slave. “Master Brutus shares your opinion.”
His gaze shifted to the man holding his reins. “Has the master left for the night?” The man nodded before leading the horse toward its stall.
Africanus rested his hand on the chestnut’s neck as he looked at Aulus. “Rest tomorrow. Come back early the next day. Bring what you’ll need for eight, maybe nine days away, but pack light.”
Rufus appeared in the hallway that led to Brutus’s office and signaled Africanus to come. After a final pat on the chestnut’s shoulder, he joined Rufus. The words they exchanged were too soft for Aulus to catch. Then Africanus looked over his shoulder at Marcus before they vanished down the dark corridor.
“You can spend the night at my house.” Marcus’s voice behind him sounded as exhausted as Aulus felt.
“But I want to send someone to tell Gallio we’re back as expected.” A deep sigh drained his lungs. “It’s bad enough he has to worry about Julia. I don’t want him worried about me as well.”
“Of course.” Marcus reined his horse toward the gate and nudged it into a walk.
As they rode under the archway and the gate closed behind them, the words of Africanus played in Aulus’s mind. The fight wasn’t lost yet, and he and Marcus would keep looking until they found Julia…one way or another.
Chapter 48: A Faithful Friend
Gaius’s farm, Solis, Day 31
When Gaius rose to take his chair out to the patio for the weekly gathering, Leander stood, too. “Can I help set up today?”
Gaius’s soft snort was the unwelcome answer. “As long as your arm is in a sling, you’re still a one-armed man. You can’t use a crutch and move furniture, too.” He slapped Leander’s good arm. “It will be enough for you to share more of the Word of God with us. But I could use your company while I set up.”
Leander hobbled outside and stood watching as Gaius carried out the four chairs, set them up two by two, and moved the two benches into place to make a square.
He turned at the jingle of harness. When Publius climbed down, Leander moved over by his mules and stroked one’s neck. When it turned to look at him, he rubbed its nose before sliding his hand up to scratch between its ears.
“Hmm.” Publius moved beside him. “He doesn’t usually let strangers touch him like that.”
Leander stroked the mule’s neck again. “I used to train mules. Once they trust you, they’ll do almost anything you ask. They just have to think it’s safe. I also worked with horses. I liked training the stallions. I could gentle even the wildest ones to where I could ride them.” He grinned. “But sometimes the men who wanted to buy them couldn’t.”
“Publius.” Lucillia’s voice drew Publius’s gaze. “Would you please carry in the stewpot, dear? I have the wine.”
Publius tipped his head toward Lucillia. “The mules do what I want, and I do what she asks.” He winked at Leander. “But it’s worth it to have a happy wife.”
Mistress Calantha’s laughter as she lifted Petronia’s little girl out of the wagon and swung her in the air drew Leander’s gaze. Some lucky man would someday have her as his wife.
He looked away. He shouldn’t let it, but that thought bothered him. He’d risked himself so she could have a happy future. And one thing was certain. He wouldn’t be part of it.
The group gathered under the canopy, and everyone sat where they had the week before. After several songs with Lucillia playing the lyre, Gaius rose and stretched his arm toward Leander.
“Leander is going to share the Word of God with us again.”
With his crutch for balance, Leander stood and bowed his head. “Lord, I thank You for Your love that saved us and Your words to guide us. Guide me as I speak today.”
He opened his eyes after the soft chorus of amens.
“I’ve been thinking this week about sin, the forgiveness bought for us by the blood of Lord Jesus, and what that means for how God wants us to treat other people.”
Mistress Calantha’s gaze locked on him.
“What Lord Jesus tells us is very clear. ‘Be merciful, even as Your Father is merciful. Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.’
“Lord Jesus tells us we have two choices when someone hurts us: condemn or forgive. But He wants us to forgive.
“Sometimes it’s not that hard to choose the way that pleases God. Other times, it is. When the one who hurts us is someone we know, someone we care about who should care about us, too, we often guess at the intent of their heart. But only God knows the full thoughts of anyone, and what I think is malice might simply be foolishness.”
He looked at the mistress. A tiny furrow appeared between her eyebrows.
“Lord Jesus tells me what I must do. ‘If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him, and if he sins against you seven times in the day, and turns to you seven times, saying, ‘I repent,' you must forgive him.’”
The furrow had deepened.
“There have been times I hurt someone, not meaning to but because I didn’t think through what I was doing before I did it. And I pray that I’ll be forgiven, just as Lord Jesus tells me I must forgive.”
Her lips had tightened.
“With the measure I use, it will be measured back to me. I want that measure to be generous and guided by love.
“When someone repents and tells you so, forgiving isn’t that hard. But when the person who hurt you isn’t sorry, when they would do it again without a moment’s thought if they had the chance…I’ve had to struggle with that.”
The corners of the mistress’s mouth dipped, and Leander shifted his gaze to Petronia beside her. Mistress Calantha didn’t like what he was saying, but he had to say what he felt the Spirit guiding him to speak.
“But not forgiving isn’t a choice that Lord Jesus left open to us. When His disciples asked Him to teach them how to pray, He made that clear. He told them, ‘When you pray, say: ‘Father, hallowed be Your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread, and forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation.’’
“It couldn’t be clearer that He expects us to forgive if we follow Him. And He promised a blessing when we obey, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”
A quick glance at Mistress Calantha revealed a deeper frown. But obeying the Master was more important than pleasing the mistress.
“Lord Jesus said, ‘Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you? Everyone who comes to Me and hears My words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built. But the one who hears and does not do them is like a man who built a house on the ground without
a foundation. When the stream broke against it, immediately it fell, and the ruin of that house was great.’
“I want to live like the wise man who built on solid rock. I want to always listen to God’s words and do what He tells me. And His great command is this: love one another. As Apostle Paul told us, ‘Aim for restoration, comfort one another, agree with one another, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you.’”
He closed his eyes, and God’s peace wrapped around him. When he opened them, his eyes turned on the mistress. Her head had tilted, and though her brow was still furrowed, a slight smile curved her lips.
“That’s all the Spirit gave me to share today.”
Leander lowered himself into his chair beside Gaius.
When Gaius stood, he squeezed the top of Leander’s good shoulder. “Thank you for sharing God’s Word with us. Now let’s lift our voices in praise.”
Lucillia strummed her lyre, and their voices blended in song.
And when Leander let his eyes return to Mistress Calantha, he was greeted by her smile.
While the men filled their plates, Calantha held Sertoria on her hip, swaying as the little girl played with the brooches holding her tunic closed along her shoulder. Leander filled his plate, then hobbled out the door behind Gaius, who carried Leander’s food as well as his own.
Lucillia held out her arms to take Sertoria so Calantha could serve both of them. “Leander seems much stronger today.”
“He is.” Calantha ladled some savory stew into her bowl. “He’s helping Gaius a little in the vineyard now, and I’ve started teaching him to read and write Latin. He already writes Greek.”
Lucillia chuckled. “It’s important for a man to be doing something so he doesn’t get bored. Whenever Publius seems to have nothing to do, I always have some small chore waiting that will make him feel useful.”
She set Sertoria down to fill her own plate, and Calantha herded the girl out the door and over to the bench. Sertoria clambered up, and Calantha handed her the plate as soon as she settled in.
