True Freedom

by Carol Ashby

  He rode out of an olive grove to find a clear view of a farmyard. A wagon was being unloaded, but the man unloading had chestnut hair.

  Africanus spun his horse and trotted back to take the other side road. It went past olives and vineyards until it topped a rise. At the house before him, two mules stood in a corral with an empty wagon beside it. The road continued into a fenced pasture where sheep grazed.

  Muttering under his breath, Africanus spun his horse and trotted back to Gaius’s road. When he reached it, his gaze flipped in the two directions as his mind weighed two options. See if Gaius had driven away from Rome, or go back to his watching post and wait for him to return.

  He rubbed his chin. The wagon was loaded for market. He must have gone to Rome but took some shortcut Africanus didn’t know.

  He nudged his horse into a walk. After leaving it once more in the grove, he climbed back to his shrubby lookout.

  It was about as dark as when they trailed Gaius home when the wagon returned. Gaius reined in by the corral and hopped down. As he started to unhitch his mules, the man with the fake limp came out of the house, but this time he wasn’t limping. He helped Gaius put up the mules, then slapped the older man on the arm before walking into the vineyard. Gaius entered the house, and soon the lamp was blown out.

  Africanus’s lips tightened. The man was heading toward the farm where he’d seen the other wagon and mules. Gaius and his neighbor were working together to hide Aulus’s sister or at least to hide the litter slave.

  He glanced at the moon. Plenty of light for his ride back to Rome. In the morning, he would bring Aulus and Marcus back to look first at Gaius’s house, and then at the limping impostor’s farm. Her slave would be at one or the other.

  As he walked back down the hill to get his stallion, his eyes narrowed. It was past time to find the limping young man. He was the key to finding Julia, and Gaius and his friend knew where he was.

  Tomorrow, Africanus would come armed and scary to get the information they needed to find her.

  Quintus’s farm and the road to Rome

  It was late afternoon when they reached Quintus’s farm. Leander helped Calantha into the wagon before climbing in himself. He snapped the reins, the wagon lurched, and they started the final leg of their return to Rome.

  Tears brimmed in Calantha’s eyes as she waved farewell to Petronia and the children. Petronia swept tears from both her cheeks before returning the wave.

  He clucked as he flicked the mules with the reins a second time, and they broke into a trot. There was no point in prolonging the heartbreaking view for her. They pulled into the grove, and Calantha faced forward again.

  Gaius leaned back against the wall of the wagon. “That shortcut through Sextus’s pasture cuts a mile or so off the trip between Quintus’s farm and ours. Publius usually comes that way. It’s handy on Solis, but it’s even better if someone’s trying to follow you.”

  Calantha sniffed. “I wouldn’t have minded you taking longer to reach us.”

  Leander kept his eyes trained on the mules’ ears. It hurt too much to watch even silent tears trickle down her cheeks.

  She settled into silence, but he still felt each time she drew a deep breath and sighed.

  Too soon they reached the main road and turned south toward Rome.

  “Gaius.” Leander glanced back over his shoulder.

  “Hmm?”

  “Which road is this? I wasn’t awake when we left Rome before.”

  “It goes by the Castra Praetoria and through the Porta Viminalis. It turns into Vicus Patricius and goes down into Subura.”

  Calantha shifted beside him. “I’m sorry you were hurt. I was so worried about you then.”

  He offered her a smile. “I’m not sorry. You’re free, you’re safe, and you follow Jesus. I couldn’t ask for better.”

  They slowed to a walk as they entered a congested area. To the right was the Thermae Mestrii.

  Calantha turned in her seat as they drove past. “That must be Publius’s bath.”

  She swung to face Leander. “Can we stop for a moment for me to tell Lucillia goodbye?”

  The palla draped over her head had slipped back, revealing her profile. Leander gripped one edge and pulled it forward. “We can’t risk it. Your brother and Drusus might still be there.”

  With both hands, she adjusted the palla, then lowered her face to conceal it from a passerby’s view. “I know you’re right, but it’s hard not to say goodbye.” She slumped, then straightened as her eyes brightened. “But I guess there’s no reason I can’t come back after Father’s home to visit now I know where she lives.”

  “That’s true.” Leander put on a smile for her sake. She would be able to come visit, but he never would. Rome lay before him like the slave ship in Dyrrachium after the long march from Sarmizegetusa.

  They were approaching the turn-off to Gaius’s farm when Gaius grabbed Leander’s arm. “Stop.”

  In the distance, a large Nubian cantered along the road toward him. But he turned down Gaius’s road and kept riding fast until he disappeared behind some trees.

  Gaius grinned. “They left a watcher, like you said they would, and God has blinded the eyes of the enemies of His children. The path should be clear for us on into Rome.”

  Calantha turned worried eyes toward him. “Will Marcella be safe?”

  That drew Gaius’s warm chuckle. “You should have seen her with them yesterday. Your brother even paid her a sestertius for a small jar of honey. God gave me a wise women, and He will protect her.”

  He rested his hand on Leander’s back. “And God gave me strong mules. They can trot most of the way to town. The sooner you’re with Servilia and out of sight, the better.”

  Leander flicked the reins, and the mules settled into a quick trot.

  He glanced at the beautiful woman seated beside him, her eyes scanning the countryside as they passed. Gaius had made him drive because he said it would be easier on Leander’s leg than crawling into the back. But it was really to give him one more chance to sit beside her, one more chance to talk.

  Gaius would hear everything they said, but even if he wasn’t there, Leander could never tell her what his heart longed to say. Words once spoken could never be taken back.

  She felt too deeply the wounds he’d received trying to protect her. They weren’t her fault, but she still felt responsible. If she knew how his impossible love for her was tearing at his heart, she’d blame herself for that, too. But it wasn’t her fault she was the woman she was, the one who would take his heart with her when she left him behind.

  Chapter 60: Last Night of Freedom.

  Subura, Rome

  As Leander drove deeper into Rome, the traffic slowed to a crawl. Slower than the caterpillars he’d plucked from Gaius’s grapes. Stop and start and stop again. But at last, he turned into the farmer’s market. Gaius inched to the end of the wagon and jumped off.

  He walked past the clucking chickens to stand beside Calantha, offering his hand to help her down. And as her foot touched the cobblestones, nothing changed on the outside. But whether she felt it or not, Leander sensed the beginning of the end. If her father was home, by this time tomorrow, she’d be Mistress Julia, and he’d once more be “You.”

  Leander walked past the mules, rubbing each one’s forehead for the last time. Then he took his place beside her, once more ready to serve.

  “How do we get to Servilia’s?” The words came harder than he expected.

  Gaius pointed past a long row of stalls to the entrance into a street. “Up there about a half mile and on the right. It’s just before a walkway to the next street.” He glanced at Leander’s leg. “Can you walk it? If not, I can take you after I get everything unloaded.”

  Leander tapped his thigh. “It’s almost as good as new. I’ve been down that passageway before. I’m sure I can find it.”

  Gaius took Calantha’s hands. “If you ever need it, you kn
ow you have a home with us.”

  She pulled free and threw her arms around his neck. With her cheek lying against his chest she whispered, “I love you, Gaius.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “You’ll always be a daughter to me. Come visit.”

  Her eyes swam in tears as she stepped back. “I will.”

  Gaius spread his arms, and Leander exchanged a quick hug. As he stepped back, Gaius slapped his arm. “May God be with you, son.”

  “And also with you.” The lump in Leander’s throat was too big to swallow.

  Gaius waved his hand toward the street. “Off with you. Give Servilia my greetings, and thank her for giving us this time with you.”

  Calantha nodded. Then she turned and walked toward her future.

  And Leander followed.

  Leander walked beside Calantha as they approached the last shops before the passageway. The hour in the wagon had made his thigh feel tight as he walked, but he tried not to limp so she wouldn’t fuss over him. Servilia stood at her loom, passing the shuttle through, then tapping the weft yarn up against the finished cloth.

  “Servilia.”

  She spun when he spoke her name, and a huge grin overspread her face. “I didn’t expect you back quite so soon.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “The way I looked when you saw me last, you might not have expected me back at all.”

  She scooped up both his hands. “No, God brought you to me for a purpose, and I didn’t think you’d be dying before you fulfilled it.”

  She turned gentle eyes on Calantha. “And it’s good to see Julia again, too.”

  “We’re Calantha and Leander now.” Julia’s words made Servilia’s eyebrows rise.

  “If you say so, then so will I. Help me put my weavings inside, and we can go eat to celebrate your return.”

  Leander dropped his voice. “Tomorrow, I hope to take her back to her father, but tonight we need a place to sleep.”

  “Say no more. Of course you’ll stay with me. Jul…Calantha can share my bed, and if you don’t mind a pallet of blankets on the floor…”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “The floor was good enough for me last time. It can’t help being better this time.”

  “We’ll eat, and then you can tell me everything when we come back here for the night.”

  She waved at a stack of blankets, and Calantha scooped them up.

  After they carried everything inside, Leander helped her place the shutters and slide the iron bars into the rings to lock them in place. Servilia snapped the padlock shut and draped the key chain around her neck After dropping the key inside her tunic, she held out her hands to each.

  “First a good dinner, and then you can tell me everything.”

  As they walked down the street to the taberna, Leander smiled. When they could tell Servilia in private that Calantha was a sister now, joy would fill the gentle eyes that had looked on him with compassion and love.

  Servilia’s response to her deciding to follow Jesus was exactly what Calantha expected: happy tears and hugs and smiles brimming with joy.

  But the best decision she’d made in her life came with the biggest problem.

  “It’s been nothing but wonderful living with Marcella and Gaius.” Her gaze rested on the man who’d made it even more wonderful, even though she didn’t speak his name. “Worshipping with everyone on Sunday, praying together every day. But when I go home to Father…”

  She rested her cheek in her palm as she sat with Servilia on the bed. “My father is Tiberius Julius Secundus.”

  Servilia’s eyes widened. “The consul?”

  “Yes, and that’s a huge problem. I’m expected to marry a man who’ll rise in the service of Rome, just like Father did. I’d be the domina of a senatorial household. There are so many religious duties in that position, not just at home but in public with my husband. I can’t do them now Jesus is my Lord. I’ll have to tell Father as soon as I see him so he won’t be arranging a marriage that would force me to do them…or die.”

  Fear for her wrinkled Servilia’s brow, and Calantha touched her hand.

  “Father has choices that will protect me. He can let me remain unmarried in his household. It would look odd, but it does happen sometimes. And someday when he dies, my share of our family fortune will let me continue as I choose.”

  She turned her eyes on Leander, sitting on the floor, his bad leg stretched out and his back against the wall. His stone-gray eyes were fixed upon her, but the trace of a smile that usually curved his mouth was gone. If only being his wife were one of the choices.

  “Father loves me dearly, and he won’t put me in danger by telling anyone my secret. We’ll figure out what’s best for me to do.”

  The curves at the corners of his mouth that had become so dear to her returned.

  Father would figure out what to do, but the future he’d plan wouldn’t be the one she wished for. Leander was the only man she wanted for her husband. But she was a senator’s daughter, and he was a slave. Even after Father freed him, the marriage she longed for was impossible. Roman law wouldn’t let her marry a freedman, and her father would never let her break Roman law.

  He massaged his injured thigh, and Calanta’s brow furrowed. “It’s a long walk from here to the baths and an even longer one from there to the villa. Are you healed enough for that?”

  “It won’t be a problem.” His smile looked forced.

  “But you were limping more when got here than you did at home.”

  “My leg stiffened a little during the drive. I limp more out of habit than any real pain. Tomorrow will not be a problem.”

  “If you say so.” Something about his eyes said he wasn’t telling her everything.

  But she wasn’t telling everything herself. She bit her lip. Tomorrow would be a huge problem for her.

  Tomorrow, she would ask Father to set her lion free. Then he could go home to Gaius and Marcella. Roman law blocked her path to happiness with him, but he might find love in the arms of someone not chained by Roman law. That would be her prayer each night as she lifted those she loved up to God.

  She turned her eyes away from him and smiled at whatever Servilia had just said.

  A senatorial daughter was trained to hide emotions in public. She’d let herself be real in the house of her dearest friends. But it was time to use that training. She would never let him see her pain from losing a future with the man she loved.

  Chapter 61: Nothing of His Own

  Servilia’s shop, Day 50

  Calantha awoke to the sound of men arguing in the street. Servilia had managed to slip from the bed and open the shutter that served as a door without disturbing her.

  She opened her eyes. A few specks of dust danced in the sunbeams that lit the room, and she wanted to dance with them. The problem she’d thought impossible the night before seemed so simple now.

  She stretched and gave thanks to God. Servilia had opened the shutter to let in the light of day. In the final moments before waking, God had just shown her the door that might let in the future she longed for.

  Energy pulsed through her as she swung her feet to the floor. Her gaze settled on Leander, still sleeping on the pallet in the corner where she’d once watched him bleed.

  Her mouth curved into a crooked smile. Leander had certainly cured her of her weakness around blood.

  His selfless courage had saved her from the selfish act of her brother. But that same hurtful act might prove to be the best thing her brother had ever done for her. A few more hours, and she’d know.

  The light of morning had entered the room, but Leander kept his eyes closed. For more than a decade, he’d slept on the ground. It had been comfortable enough and easy to sleep after a hard day’s work. But last night, with what he knew lay ahead, sleep had eluded him.

  He remained still when Servilia rose. She might want to talk, and he didn’t want to burd
en her with the thoughts that circled his mind like jackals, waiting for the end.

  When the bed creaked as Calantha rose, he still kept his eyes closed. Then the faint scent of roses teased his nostrils, and the heat of her presence as she knelt beside him was more than he could ignore.

  He opened his eyes.

  “Are you ready for today?” Her voice was cheerful, and her eyes danced with anticipation.

  He pushed himself into a sitting position with his left arm. “I will be.” He wiped his face with his palm.

  Her brightness dimmed. “You don’t look like you slept well.”

  “I haven’t slept on the ground for a while.” He patted the floor. “It’s not as soft as the straw in the stable. That’s as good as Marcella’s bed.”

  “Maybe I can arrange something better for you when we get home.” She rocked back on her feet and stood.

  He nodded. The softest bed in the Secundus household couldn’t solve what disturbed his sleep. Aching thoughts of her riding in the litter, close enough to hear her words to others but forever silent himself. Bracing himself to once more being treated as an animal after living like a free man. None were things he could say without causing her pain.

  Would her father believe the truth about what happened? That he only tried to protect her as a loyal slave should? But what had started as duty had turned to love, and love was something he didn’t know how to hide. Somehow, he must find a way. They’d been gone much too long for anyone to believe her still virtuous if he didn’t.

  “Found it.” Servilia entered the room, waving a blank sheet of papyrus. In her other hand was a pen and a bottle of ink. “I bought the sheet, but the scribe-for-hire four stalls down lent me the pen and ink.”