by Carol Ashby
The little horse nickered. Trotting hoofbeats and her running steps meshed as she brought the mare back to the porch where the girl waited, still crying softly.
“Elsa, calm down. You’ll have to sit behind me and wrap your arms around my waist. Can you do that?”
The crying girl managed a weak “yes.”
“When I get on, I want you to step on this stool and climb on behind me. Then hang on. We’ll be back to your mama before you know it.”
He heard some rustling as they mounted. Then the sound of cantering hooves faded quickly into the distance.
He couldn’t say exactly what, but something in Valeria’s voice disturbed him. She was trying to hide something from the girl so she wouldn’t be too frightened.
He remembered the mare. She was a small cart horse, not a riding horse. If Valeria was going to ride double on a cart horse, she must have thought it vital to reach the mother very quickly. She must be afraid of what she would find when she got there.
Decimus awoke to the sounds of Rhoda getting ready to make breakfast. Valeria must not have returned. The bed creaked as he raised himself up on one elbow.
“Good morning.” Rhoda moved the curtain aside and hopped up on the bed beside him. “Do you know where Valeria went?”
“A girl about your age took her to help her mother have a baby.”
Rhoda’s breath caught. “Was it Inge?”
“No. Elsa.”
“That’s Inge’s oldest daughter. That’s not good. It’s too soon for Inge’s baby to come. We’ve been praying for her for weeks. She had a terrible time with her third baby. I hope everything turns out well even with the baby being early.”
The cottage door swung open. Galen was back from feeding the livestock. “Val took the mare but not the cart. She must have been in a big hurry.”
“Oh.” Decimus felt Rhoda tense beside him. “I guess I’ll have to do Valeria’s chores today. I don’t think she’ll be back very soon.”
“Well, you make good enough bread. Your stew’s not so bad the pig turns down what’s left over, so I guess we’ll be fine for one day.”
There was a short silence before Rhoda answered. “I’m going to get some eggs.” The door opened, and Rhoda’s footsteps faded away as she crossed the porch and stepped off.
Galen directed his voice at Decimus as soon as she closed the door. “You don’t have to start helping me until tomorrow. Today is baking day. Rhoda knows how to do everything, but it’s hard for her to knead all that dough. She and Val usually do it together. Would you mind helping her with the kneading? I know it’s not what you’d call “man’s work,” but she could use your help.”
“Soldiers often do their own cooking. I’ll help her.”
“Just don’t tell her I asked you.”
Decimus’s eyebrow rose at Galen’s desire to help his little sister without her knowing. He teased her all the time about almost anything.
“Besides, if the bread turns out as good as Val’s, I don’t want to have to admit she did a superb job all by herself.”
The corner of Decimus’s mouth twitched up. Galen wanted to help her, but he couldn’t resist the tease.
Breakfast was much quieter than usual. Rhoda didn’t speak much, and even Galen couldn’t get her laughing.
After Galen left, Decimus returned to his bed and lay down to rest until Rhoda needed him. He listened to her moving around the cottage as she cleaned up after breakfast. Finally came sounds of her placing several things on the table. The sound of a spoon scraping the side of a bowl told him it was time to make his offer of help.
“Rhoda, I’m tired of doing nothing. Is there something I can do in the cottage today? Perhaps I could help with the bread making. You can teach me what I need to do.”
“That would be a huge help. I still need to do all Valeria’s work in the garden, too.” She walked over to give him a big hug and bring him back with her to the table.
Later, as he stood beside her kneading the large lump of dough, it felt good to be useful to someone again, even a little girl.
Decimus was alone in the cottage when Valeria finally returned. Her steps were slow as she walked to the table. She set something heavy down. Then silence filled the cottage as she just stood there, saying nothing.
Her silence was disturbing. Something was very wrong. He stood and hobbled toward the table. His outstretched hand found her arm. Then he reached across her body for her second arm and turned her to face him.
“Valeria?” Silence. “What’s wrong?”
“I was too late.” She spoke so softly he could barely hear her.
If only he could see her face so he would know what she was thinking. In his darkness, he reached out to try Gaius’s way of seeing. His hand had just found her cheek when a tear trickled onto his fingertip.
She made no sound, but she was crying. He drew her into his arms. For a moment, she just stood there, her cheek resting against his chest. Then she wrapped her arms around his back and clung to him as sobs shook her body. The river of tears soaked into his shirt.
The last thing he expected was for her to crumble like this over the loss of her patient. Soldiers and physicians both dealt with death, and it wasn’t always possible to win. She was in the wrong profession if she got this upset when a patient died.
Would her heart be so torn if he killed himself? She’d tried so hard to convince him not to that he was sure the answer was yes. She’d sounded like she was about to cry that afternoon. Maybe she actually had. This flood of tears was proof she really meant it when she said she couldn’t bear it if he did. He didn’t want to cause such pain for her, so he hoped it would never come to that.
It felt good to hold her in his arms, to give some comfort to the woman who’d done everything she could to comfort him. He laid his hand on the back of her head and held her close until the shaking stopped and the flood subsided.
He’d never been called upon to console anyone before. He lived among men who chose to conceal whatever grief they had. He should say something, but what?
“I’m sure you did everything that could be done.”
“You don’t understand.” Valeria whispered into his chest.
“Tell me so I will understand.” He kept his arms wrapped around her, and she made no effort to move away from him.
“Inge almost died when she had her third daughter four years ago. Gaius used everything he knew to save her, and he warned her that trying to have another baby would probably kill her. But she wanted above anything to give her husband a son, so she decided to try once more. She had problems from the beginning, so Rhoda and I visited often. Inge and I became close friends. I’ve been telling her about Jesus. She’d started asking me questions, but she wasn’t quite ready to follow the Way. When I got there last night, she was burning up with fever and frantic. We both knew she was dying.”
Silence and a single jerk told him she was fighting tears again.
A deep breath, and then she continued. “I told her again how much God loves her, how Jesus died for her, and what awaited her if she chose to believe in him. She was staring wildly at me, gripping my hand so hard, and then she looked past me. One smile...and she was gone. But I don’t know for sure if she heard me. I don’t know what she chose. She may be lost forever...when she didn’t have to be.”
Valeria felt him stiffen, so she lifted her head to look at his face. Dipping eyebrows, a frown, the confused look in his eyes―he was both puzzled and disturbed by what she’d just said. In her own distress, she’d told him much more than he could understand or even handle. He was a Roman tribune. He knew nothing about following Christ―the love, the joy, the peace. He didn’t know how empty his own life was without Jesus. He couldn’t possibly understand why death apart from Jesus was such a tragedy but death when you follow him is not―even death in a Roman arena or by a Roman sword.
She pulled away and stepped back. She took a deep breath and s
lowly released it. God, please give me the right words to say to him now.
When she spoke again, her voice was calm. “I wasn’t able to save her, but I fulfilled her deepest desire. I took her new son from her womb when she died. He’s small, but he seems very strong. They have goats for milk, and I’m sure Elsa can be a good mother to him. I was gone so long because I was teaching her what she must do to care for him.”
Decimus stood listening to her in utter amazement. He was a soldier, accustomed to brushing aside the horror of death and fighting on until the battle was over. She was no soldier.
He’d never seen anyone cry over a friend like she had in his arms. She’d been upset to the point of tears when he was drowning in despair and talking about ending it all, and he was almost a stranger. He’d never known a heart more tender than hers.
How could she have watched her friend die and then cut her open to save her baby?
His wide eyes and raised eyebrows told Valeria she’d only succeeded in changing Decimus from puzzled and disturbed to incredulous. Not at all what she’d intended, but she wasn’t sure what else to say to him. Maybe it was just time to stop talking.
“I’ve kept you standing on your leg much too long. You need to rest it.” She placed her hand against his chest. “Thank you for listening. It helped to tell someone. I’m sorry I got your shirt wet. Now I need to go help Rhoda finish my chores before supper.”
She took his hand in hers and squeezed, and then she left the cottage to find Rhoda.
She was right, as usual. Decimus had blocked it while he held her, but the pain in his leg pressed in on him again. He sat down heavily on the chair beside the table. He ran the fingers of both hands through his hair. Then, as was his habit when relaxing or thinking deeply, he laced them together and rested his palms on the top of his head. He remembered only at the last moment to keep them away from the cut.
A puzzled frown dragged his mouth down.
What on earth had just happened? She’d let him console her in her deepest grief. To be allowed to see her so exposed―he’d never expected that level of trust. For her to give it to him…well, it was deeply gratifying. She’d cared for him in his time of greatest need. It felt good to be allowed to care for her, too.
But how could she be weeping like that in his arms and within moments be apologizing for soaking his shirt with her tears? The tears hadn’t even been because her friend had died but over whether she had chosen to believe in the Christian god before she did.
He felt the wet area of his shirt. She was right. He didn’t understand her at all.
Supper was much quieter than before, and Decimus didn’t like it. The usual gaiety was missing. Valeria gave thanks and spoke a normal amount although her voice was missing its usual lightness, but Rhoda said almost nothing. Galen was trying to brighten the mood, teasing Rhoda to get her to laugh, but he wasn’t succeeding. Finally, Rhoda began to cry.
“Please, Galen, stop. Elsa and her sisters just lost their mother. I remember how much it hurt when Mother was killed, and I don’t feel like laughing tonight.”
There was scraping when Galen pushed back his stool, footsteps as he walked around the table, and rustling as he wrapped his arms around his sister.
“I’m sorry, Rhoda. I remember, too.”
Galen stood between her and Decimus. Her voice was muffled by his shirt as she clung to him. “I wish I knew that Inge chose Jesus. Then I could tell Elsa something that would help make it hurt less.”
Decimus fought to keep his eyebrows down and his mouth shut. How could choosing to believe in the Christian god have any effect on how much losing someone you love hurt? Rhoda and Valeria both thought it did, but that made no sense whatever.
Valeria stood. “I think it would be good to have prayer time earlier tonight. Galen, would you help Decimus while Rhoda and I clean up?”
Decimus lay on his bed as they gathered at the table. Valeria was the reader. The pages of the codex turned until she found what she was looking for. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and began to read.
Her voice quavered as she began, but it steadied as she read on. “Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?’ She said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world.’”
She closed the codex. After a moment of silence, she began their prayers.
“Jesus, we come to you with heavy hearts tonight because of the death of our dear friend, Inge. I know she was almost ready to follow you. I saw her fear approaching death, but I also saw her beautiful, peaceful smile as she crossed the threshold. I ask that, in your mercy, her smile was the sign that she had chosen you and was meeting you for the first time. I pray for her family in their time of deepest grief and that they, too, will find peace knowing you.”
She continued, giving thanks and praying for him and for others. Galen and Rhoda added their prayers.
“We pray all this in Jesus’s name. Amen.”
Rhoda spoke immediately after the amen with a lightness that shocked him. “She smiled! I’m certain she was meeting Jesus. She’s with him now.”
Valeria’s peaceful reply was no less shocking. “Yes, precious. I’m certain she is, too.”
Galen and Rhoda had climbed into the loft. Decimus heard Valeria step out onto the porch, but he couldn’t tell what she was doing. Was she out there grieving for her friend? Did she need to find consolation in his arms again? Would she welcome it if he offered? He would welcome the chance to hold her again if she needed him to.
Before he could decide whether to go out to check, she came in. The bolt slid into place, and footsteps approached. She would adjust his blanket before she climbed into the loft.
He was lying with his eyes open. It had been a disturbing day in this house of Christians.
She rested her hand on his upper arm. “Good night, Decimus. Rest in peace.”
No trace of tears in her voice. Just the calm, soft voice that he found strangely soothing. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn it had been just another day for her.
“Good night, Valeria.”
The rung creaked as she climbed into the loft, and the cottage became quiet.
Valeria lay in her bed, giving thanks for Inge’s smile that had revealed her choice and praying for Decimus. If only his sight might return and his heart might find God as Inge’s had.
Decimus lay on his bed, wondering how it was possible for these Christians to think about death so differently than he did and marveling at the peace it seemed to give them.
Chapter 18: A Fair Price
Decimus awoke with a feeling of anticipation. He didn’t know what Galen had in mind, but it didn’t matter. It would be good to be out of the cottage and doing anything useful.
Valeria was humming by the fireplace as she scraped a spoon along the wall of a pot. The aroma stirred his appetite. He’d gagged down his share of the breakfast porridge dished up by army cooks, but she managed to use a variety of herbs to turn the otherwise plain meal into something quite delicious and different each day.
He’d no sooner swung his legs over the edge than her footsteps approached his bedside.
“Good morning. How are you feeling today?”
Her tone was light, pleasant―normal for her. Any sadness she might have from her friend’s death was well concealed, from him at least. Her friend was just as dead now as she was when he held her sobbing in his arms. How could there be no detectable trace of yesterday’s grief in her voice this morning? Sometimes these Christians truly baffled him, especially when all he could do was listen. Maybe there would be signs of more normal grief if he could see as well.
“Better. I have an excellent physician.”
“That’s not difficult when she has such a good patient.”
She pa
tted his arm before handing him the crutch. He hobbled to the table as she returned to the fireplace.
The soft creak of the ladder and skipping footsteps announced Rhoda’s arrival even before she hugged Decimus’s arm.
“Good morning. I hope you’re feeling much better today.”
“I am.” He rested his hand on the side of her head before she went over to the fireplace to help Valeria.
Amazing. Just like her sister, the tears of last night had been replaced by the cheerfulness of this morning. These Christians just weren’t normal people in how they reacted to death, and he wasn’t making much progress in his attempts to understand them.
Galen came in from feeding the livestock. “It sure smells good this morning, Val. I’m starving.” He plunked himself down at the table next to Decimus. “Ready for me to start putting you to work? I’m glad Val is finally willing to let you out of her sight.”
“He still needs to take it easy, Galen, so don’t plan on working him too hard or too long today. I don’t want him doing something he shouldn’t.”
Decimus’s lips tightened. “I can judge myself whether the work is too hard and whether I should do it.”
There was an edge on his voice. He’d never liked it when his tutors had been overprotective when he wanted to try something. He didn’t need her to be mothering him even if she only did it out of concern for him. Being blind and still weak didn’t mean he was a child who couldn’t think for himself.
She patted his arm twice. “I’m sure you can.”
Her response was too patronizing, but he let it pass without comment. He wasn’t going to let anything spoil this first chance to be a man again even if he couldn’t see.
Rhoda carried the bowls to the table and handed them out. Valeria gave thanks as usual, and the time of happy conversation followed.
