Yahshua's Bridge

by Sandi Rog

  “Let’s go.” He helped her to her feet, pulling on the hands that she enjoyed comparing to his own. Together they trudged toward the stairs, careful not to lose their footing on the large stones.

  He walked behind Elianna so they’d fit on the narrow staircase, which was more like a ladder. He stayed close behind, keeping watch on her trembling legs beneath her clinging stola as she took one step at a time, her wet sandals leaving behind soggy prints.

  As they reached the top of the stairs, Alexander’s legs wobbled like those of an old man. He slogged onto the last step and straightened, taking in the sight before him. An obelisk shot up from the center of the island above the Temple of Aesculapius, acting as a ship’s mast. The single block of stone loomed over them like an immovable force. He’d seen it before from the riverbanks, but never from where he stood now.

  Fearful someone might catch them, he guided Elianna by the hand and led her up to the bridge. Thankfully, no priests were in sight. In fact, very few people roamed the bridge. Then he realized it was midday respite. Most people would be comfortably asleep in their homes.

  As they crossed over the Tiber, Alexander looked upstream. How far had they come? Where were David and Alethea? The rest of them? They trudged across the bridge and walked along the top of the bank, heading toward the cove where they’d played. Alexander looked down the slanted wall to the bottom of the bank, searching for familiar faces, but few people wandered about.

  A slight breeze fanned through his hair and cooled the wet fabric against his skin. They plodded for a long time, and he felt like he lumbered against the river’s current.

  “Zander, I’m tired.” Elianna tripped.

  Alexander righted her. “Get on my back.” He squatted for her to climb on. The weight of her body and wet stola made it difficult to stand. He rose on unsteady legs like those of a newborn foal. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have much farther to go.

  They passed numerous homes and buildings on their right with the constant flowing river on their left, and they still hadn’t reached the cove. How could they have come so far? As Alexander stopped to catch his breath, he watched the speed of the currents below. He and Elianna must have traveled just as fast. A shame they couldn’t travel as quickly on foot in the opposite direction.

  He continued trudging, staring at his damp sandaled feet as he put one foot in front of the other. One in front of the other. He continued the pace, despite the trembling in his legs and the shivering in his chest. One step, then another. Again and again. It brought to mind swimming and stretching his arms in front of himself, pushing against the water. Pushing against the current. Perhaps his legs would collapse. And if they collapsed, what would he do? How would he take care of—

  “Elianna!” A shout carried through the air.

  Alexander looked up to see Alethea running toward them with Galen and Manius at her side.

  At last.

  Galen whistled down the bank. “They’re here!” He motioned toward them.

  Alexander let Elianna slide off him and she ran to her mother.

  Alethea scooped her up into her arms and cried into her matted hair. “We thought we lost you!”

  Galen grabbed Alexander. “Are you hurt, son?”

  Manius bent over him. “You’re all wet. What happened?”

  “I’m afraid to know,” Galen said, eyes wide with concern.

  Alexander pointed at the water, his fingers and arm shaking. “Elianna fell in.”

  Galen gasped and straightened. He ran a hand down his horrified face.

  Manius grabbed him by the shoulders, his eyes filled with concern.

  “I went to get her.” Alexander’s body trembled. He felt cold. Colder than the water.

  David burst through the bushes at the top of the bank, his eyes wild and his hair and tunic soaked. He’d climbed the wall. There were no stairs there. How did he do that? Alexander would have to ask David to show him.

  David rushed to Elianna. He put his hands on her while she clung to Alethea. “Is she well?” he asked, his voice desperate.

  Alethea nodded. “Just frightened, I think.”

  A wail escaped his throat and he squeezed them both. “Thank Jehovah!” His eyes welled with tears and he looked at Alexander who couldn’t stop shivering.

  David rushed over, bent down, and placed his trembling hands on Alexander’s shoulders and arms. “You’re both wet.”

  “Elianna fell into the river and he pulled her out.” Manius put his arm around Alexander, warming the places he touched, but the heat didn’t reach far enough, deep enough. Alexander needed more.

  “He what?” David straightened, his eyes widened. Alexander teetered. He caught his balance and hugged himself, quivering from the cold.

  “He pulled her out of the water.” Manius squeezed him again.

  Still not enough warmth.

  Face pale, David gaped at Alexander. He knelt before him, clutching his arms. “You saved … my little girl.” He said the words as if realizing their meaning as they came out of his mouth. He glanced over his shoulder at Elianna.

  She stood in her mother’s arms as the other men gathered around. She spoke, waving her hands and pointing at Alexander.

  Alexander swallowed. He nearly lost her. But she would be fine. Now that he found her parents, all was well.

  The way Alethea held Elianna made Alexander want his own mother. He wanted to feel the warmth of her embrace.

  “Are you hurt, son?” David still held his arms, his gaze searching for injuries.

  Alexander shook his head, and then he nodded. They were safe. At last, they were safe.

  Like an amphora vessel dropped from a high place onto a tiled floor, Alexander broke and tears burst forth. She could have died. They both could have died.

  Weeping, he shook all over.

  David pulled him into his arms, warming him, like a father would his son.

  Ω

  David pressed his palm against Alexander’s damp forehead. He wasn’t well. He was so pale and clammy. David looked at Elianna.

  “He said to get on his back, but I was too scared.” She retold the story of how Alexander saved her.

  Other than her matted hair and damp stola, she seemed in order, and more importantly, unhurt. Still, he went to her and touched her forehead and face as she spoke. She giggled and continued talking, her pink lips flapping like a bird’s wings. She was well.

  David returned to Alexander. Dark circles had formed under his wide eyes. He scooped the boy’s trembling body into his arms.

  “I’m taking him to his mother,” David called out to them, cringing as Aulus knelt before his daughter and handed the wooden doll to her. “Back off!” he shouted.

  Aulus stepped back.

  David would have to deal with him later. Agitated, he turned and marched toward Demetri’s house. If anything happened to Alexander, David didn’t know what he would do. The boy was a hero. How could David ever repay him?

  By the time David reached the door, Alexander’s trembling had worsened. David kicked it open.

  A slave woman looked up in surprise, gasped and went running from the atrium.

  “Demetri!” David’s voice boomed throughout the large house, bouncing off the stone tiles and high columns. Voices lifted from behind a curtain. Still carrying Alexander, David went toward it and pushed it aside.

  Demetri rose from his sofa, Bahiti taking his goblet. She spotted Alexander, dropped the goblet, and ran to them.

  “What is it? What happened?” Bahiti kissed Alexander’s hair and arms.

  Demetri, obviously recovering from the shock of seeing David for the first time in years, went pale and his eyes darkened with concern. He walked up to them. “What’s happened to him?”

  “He needs a doctor.”

  Alexander continued to quake in David’s arms. The boy’s lips had gone purple.

  Demetri turned and looked from side to side as if he might find a physician standing somewhere in the room.
r />   “You don’t have an in-house practitioner?”

  Demetri shook his head, worry clouding his eyes.

  “Where can we find one?” Desperation coated David’s voice.

  “What about the gladiators’ doctors?” Demetri motioned over David’s shoulder. “Each ludus keeps a staff of the best physicians.”

  Since that’s where Demetri liked to spend his time, he would know.

  Demetri nodded, pushing through the curtain and leading the way to the door. “Yes. They’ll help.”

  David and Bahiti followed Demetri to a nearby ludus. They made their way directly into an open arena where gladiators trained. A long, covered portico bordered one side. They hurried along the porch, and after passing several columns and doors, they entered a small chamber.

  A man held two glass vessels of ointment at eye level, studying each one. He turned from a wall of vials. “What have we here?” He placed the amphorae back in their holders and turned from the shelf. With brows furrowed, he looked from David to Demetri.

  Demetri motioned toward Alexander. “My boy … slave boy … he, uh … .” He looked to David for help.

  “His son dove into the Tiber to rescue a little girl from drowning.” David laid Alexander on the only bed in the chamber.

  Bahiti gasped at the news and cried.

  “Now he can’t stop shivering.”

  The doctor pushed by Demetri and put his hand on Alexander’s forehead. “His lips and fingers are blue, but he’s sweating.” He placed his fingers against his neck and waited. He studied Alexander’s eyes and lifted a lid. “The boy’s in shock.” He looked at David and then Demetri. “We need to warm him.” He pointed to Bahiti. “Get those blankets and bring them over here.” Then he motioned to Demetri. “I need you to get behind him. Sit with him against your chest and put your arms and legs around him.”

  Demetri glanced at David then at Bahiti. He climbed onto the bed and moved Alexander’s body against his own. “His clothes are wet.”

  “Remove them.” The doctor took a blanket from Bahiti and shook it out.

  Demetri pulled Alexander’s wet tunic over his head.

  “Take yours off too.” The doctor draped a blanket over Alexander. “He needs the warmth from your body.”

  Demetri yanked on his own tunic until it was also off.

  David noticed the similarities between father and son. Their knees both had similar caps, and the shape of their legs, shoulders and arms were the same. Alexander was a smaller, darker version of his father.

  Demetri hugged Alexander against his chest, his long legs wrapped around the boy.

  The doctor and Bahiti covered them both in blankets.

  David backed against the wall. He’d always wanted Demetri to acknowledge Alexander as his son, and now that he witnessed genuine concern reflecting in Demetri’s gaze, a pang of jealousy shot through him, and the loss of his own two young sons ached in his gut.

  “How’s the girl?”

  David snapped his attention to the doctor.

  “You said he rescued a little girl from drowning. How’s the girl?”

  “She was talking. Well.”

  The doctor scowled and shook his head. “Bring her to me.”

  “But she was talking, behaving normally.” Dread coursed down David’s spine.

  “That means nothing.” The doctor walked up to him. “When we held the sea battles in Vespasian’s amphitheater, I had two men die from water in the lungs, long after they were on dry land.”

  David’s heart pounded and he ran out of the chamber. How many children must he lose?

  “Do they call you Goliath?” Elianna arched her neck, studying the giant man before her. She felt small in this oval arena with the stands surrounding her, small compared to the iron gate at the entrance, and even smaller standing before such a large man.

  Scars covered his face and arms, and his hands were big enough to crush boulders. The muscles in his arms made her wonder why he didn’t break through his chains. Maybe she should be afraid. She looked for Abba. He stood nearby with his arms crossed. He was almost as big as the man in front of her. Abba would keep her safe.

  She turned back to the man. Scraggly blond hair hung over his shoulders, his bare chest heaved, and his thick legs reminded her of tree trunks.

  “Can you break them?” She pointed at the shackles that bound him to two big wooden stakes.

  Slowly, the man shook his head as if he wasn’t sure if he should answer.

  She leaned in closer. “Did you try?” Surely, he could have broken them if he tried.

  He nodded and stared down at her. His blue eyes reminded her of Abba’s, especially the way he looked at her right now, like they were smiling. Did he have a little girl too? If so, he must miss her.

  “Are you a slave?” she asked, frowning.

  The man smirked, his eyes motioning toward the chains.

  “My abba used to be a slave.” She pointed to her father.

  Was Abba ever tied up like this? She cocked her head, studying the giant. He not only smelled—similar to Abba after he did training exercises with Zander—his wrists and ankles bled. Red streaks ran down his arms and legs. Abba had told her stories of being whipped. She wondered if he had bled like this. He also told her how he tried to escape over the wall that kept him locked inside a villa. Because of that, she knew exactly what this gladiator needed.

  Freedom. If only she could undo his chains.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she made sure no one, other than Abba, stood nearby listening. She was used to singing at the gatherings of the church, but she didn’t know these men at all.

  A few gladiators practiced in the sandy arena, hitting one another with wooden swords. They were far enough away that they wouldn’t hear her.

  “I’m going to sing a song,” she whispered, leaning in closer to the big man. Unlike her mother, she found little pleasure in singing when others listened. She knew her voice was beautiful, but she didn’t want the attention it attracted; although, she was happy to sing for this man. She wanted to help him feel good inside. To help him smile. So, she chose her favorite song about the bird and being set free.

  And so, Elianna began her song. The one she and Mamma always sang was perfect. After all, it was about freedom, and this man needed to feel free.

  Ω

  David watched Elianna as she sang to one of the meanest-looking gladiators he’d ever seen. His little girl belted out the melody without hesitation, her sweet voice a sharp contrast with the scarred, mangled beast towering over her.

  He had thought to keep her from seeing the gladiators, but he couldn’t protect her from the realities of life. If he did that, how would she survive? It would weaken her character and she wouldn’t know how to handle such a depraved world. That didn’t mean he’d go out of his way to show her evil, but when there was no way to avoid it, so be it.

  Clinging to her stola, she sang the song that lately spilled from her and Alethea’s lips.

  David kept a close eye on the gladiator and watched his defenses melt as Elianna had neared. He could see in his gaze that he wouldn’t harm his precious girl. Where did the man come from? His blond hair, thick woolen loincloth, and especially the tribal markings on his arms made David think he came from Germania. A long way from Rome. Clearly, he had fought his entire way to the Empire’s capital.

  The doctor had looked Elianna over the same way he did Alexander. He also listened to both Alexander and Elianna’s lungs and seemed to think they’d be well. The relief in David was great, but he still watched her, fearful that she might suddenly collapse and die. It was almost more than David could bear. It brought to mind the times he lost his sons. The pain. The agony. He hadn’t told Alethea of the danger because he didn’t want her to worry. He just told her that he wanted to be sure Elianna was safe. Alethea remained in the doctor’s chamber to help Bahiti with Alexander who was finally returning to normal.

  Some of the other gladiators stopped their spa
rring and walked toward Elianna.

  David straightened.

  One man nodded to him and removed his helmet. Another crossed his arms. Others dropped their weapons, assuring him they weren’t a threat. All were careful not to get too close.

  Elianna didn’t see them as they stood at a comfortable distance— comfortable for David—behind her. So, she continued to sing.

  She waved her stola and rocked from side to side, then spun around for the man. She still hadn’t noticed the other gladiators watching. His precious girl. What would he have done if he’d lost her? They wouldn’t be here right now, experiencing this moment. She lifted her hands as she hit the high note. Had Alexander not rescued her, no one would be listening to her innocent voice. Instead, he’d be longing for her, grieving for her. Thank Elohim she was safe. Alive.

  Demetri came to stand next to David.

  David cleared his throat, nodding to his once arch enemy. How long had it been since they’d seen each other, let alone spoken? Was the last time in the arena at the villa? When David had fought and nearly killed the gladiator Demetri hired to kill him?

  Alethea peeked around one of the columns along the portico that led to the many chambers, obviously too uncomfortable to come into the arena. “He’s doing much better.” Her gaze met Demetri’s and then David’s. Crimson stained her cheeks and she turned to go back to the chamber.

  Demetri stood there, staring at the empty space where Alethea had been. Six years had passed since David had taken Alethea from him. Did he want her back? He certainly hadn’t changed much. Other than his bulging gut, he was still tall and handsome. His blond hair was mussed and his face sagged in weariness. For once, the man was sober. He was probably sorry he didn’t have the numbing effects of wine right now.

  Clearing his throat, Demetri kicked at the sand. “So, are you teaching him to fight like you?”

  It took a moment for David to realize Demetri was talking to him, despite the fact that only the two of them stood near enough for a conversation. What had he asked? Teaching who? Then he knew. Alexander. David nodded.

  “Maybe he’ll grow up to be a gladiator.” Demetri straightened, pride filling his stance.