He stood still in the doorway, motioning for her to precede him. To do so would bring her in close proximity to his body. She stopped, unable to bring herself to move forward.
“Sara?”
Her eyes flew to his, and she could see the amusement lurking there. The man knew the effect he had on her and was deliberately testing her will. Lifting her chin a notch, Sara looked straight ahead and passed through the doorway, brushing against his chest as she did so. When her eyes went to his again, his were veiled, all traces of laughter gone.
Swallowing hard, Sara turned to address him. “Yes, Tribune?”
Antonius forgot what he had intended to say. Suddenly the whole religion issue seemed so trivial. A look of irritation crossed his features.
“Why must you always call me Tribune?”
Sara looked at him in surprise. “But that’s who you are.”
“You called me Antonius once.” His husky voice sent shivers up Sara’s back, even as hot color flooded her face.
“I didn’t mean to. I. . .I forgot myself for a moment. It was not appropriate, and I hope you will forgive me.”
There was no denying the earnestness of the plea. Antonius nodded his head slightly in affirmation, his mind not completely on what she had just said. “Then why do you not call me master?” he demanded softly.
Sara dropped her eyes to the floor. “I have only one master.”
She heard him move but kept her eyes fixed on the blue inlaid design of the marble. Antonius reached out, placing a palm against her cheek, lifting her chin none too gently with his thumb. Sara quailed beneath his look. His eyes glittered dangerously, and Sara’s heart started to pound in response, her eyes widening in alarm.
“Who, Sara, do you consider your master?” he asked in a softly ominous voice.
Sara had to swallow twice before she could answer. She realized how fiercely possessive Antonius could be about things he considered his. Take Orion for instance, or even Diana. But it had never occurred to her that he might become angry over a slave.
“My Lord, Jesus Christ, is the only one I will ever consider my master,” she told him in a quavery voice.
She watched the dawning comprehension on his face and felt the tension leave his body. A slight smile quirked his lips to one side.
“Ah, I remember now. Your religion.” His eyes roved her face before settling on her parted lips. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with a mixture of fear and her awareness of him as a man. “I have no problem with you worshiping your God in any way you choose. Just remember one thing. You belong to me.” He punctuated each of the last four words by tapping her lips with his thumb.
Sara’s lips thinned with anger. Jerking herself free, she stepped away from Antonius. She saw his face tighten with returning anger.
“Is that all you wished to talk to me about, Tribune?”
“No.” He stared at her silently, his blue eyes smoldering in his anger. “What is going on between you and Decimus?”
Sara’s head flew upward and she gaped at him in complete shock. “Decimus?” She frowned, struggling to find some meaning behind the question. “Decimus and I are friends. We share the same Lord.”
“Make sure that’s all you share,” Antonius told her coldly.
Sara placed her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Decimus is like a brother to me!”
Antonius watched her in irritation. She was so truly naive, especially where men were concerned. He felt the anger drain away.
“Sara,” he told her gently. “Decimus does not look at you in such a way. Decimus sees you as a woman. The woman he loves.”
The color fled from her face, and she stared at him in anguish. “No. I don’t believe you.”
Sighing, Antonius took a step toward her, his lips thinning with displeasure when she backed away. Sara lifted her eyes slowly, encountering the hard blue glare of his penetrating gaze. His eyes captured hers and held her mesmerized against her will.
“Come here, Sara,” he commanded gently. Sara shook her head, taking another step backward. The room was quiet save for the sounds coming from the courtyard below.
Antonius was aggravated that Sara always seemed so frightened of him. Beatrice would have fallen gladly at his feet. Sara, however, always found reasons to avoid his presence. It bothered his ego more than a little bit, though he wouldn’t for the world admit it, even to himself.
“Sara.” This time there was a definite note of authority in his voice, but Sara refused to move. Antonius realized that she was truly afraid of him. It radiated from every pore in her body, and he realized that he was the cause. Something about him frightened her, though he had never laid a hand to her. He frowned in annoyance.
“If I command you to do so, you know you will obey.” Antonius wasn’t nearly as sure as he sounded. Even from that distance, Antonius could see her body start to tremble. He continued to watch Sara, a well of irritation bubbling up inside him. He could force her, he knew, but what would that accomplish? She would be more frightened of him than ever. Without knowing why, he suddenly turned away.
“Send Decimus to me,” he snapped, and Sara bit her bottom lip. Was Decimus to be punished because of her? As she turned away, Antonius called to her softly. She remained motionless, her back to him.
“You needn’t be afraid of me, Sara. I wouldn’t harm you.”
Her voice came back to him small and still. “Perhaps I am more afraid of myself.” With that, she quietly departed the room.
Antonius stared after her in surprise. The girl was a definite enigma. Just when he thought he had her figured out, she threw something surprising in his face.
Chapter 9
Sara was kneeling in the vegetable garden behind the villa when Decimus joined her. She glanced up quickly but turned away before her eyes had more than a moment to rest on Decimus’s confused face. She had always felt comfortable around Decimus. . .had always felt toward him the way she would have liked to feel toward Dathan. But in a few short words, Antonius had destroyed the camaraderie she felt with Decimus. She was uncomfortable and unsure how to make matters right. Was it true? Did Decimus love her more than as a sister, or was it a figment of Antonius’s imagination?
Decimus knelt down beside her, tearing ruthlessly at the weeds in the cucumber patch. His features drew into a frown, his eyes sparkling with suppressed anger.
“Antonius has forbidden us to mention religious matters to Diana. He says if he hears of it again he will have us both flogged.”
Sara heaved a sigh of relief. So Antonius hadn’t mentioned their conversation to Decimus. She was able to look at him more fully, forgetting her own distress in the face of his.
“Did he say why?” she asked softly.
He continued to pull at the weeds, and Sara noticed a tear wend its way down his cheek. Brushing at it impatiently, he turned toward Sara.
“I would defy him if not for you. I cannot allow him to punish you.” He gritted his teeth fiercely. “But how can I not talk to Diana when she is so close to accepting the truth?”
Sara laid a hand gently on his arm. “There will be a way. Remember what the apostle Paul said. Slaves must obey their masters. To defy Antonius is to defy God Himself.”
Releasing a pent-up breath, Decimus turned to her and gave her a rather wan smile. “How did you get to be so wise?”
Sara laughed. “I have had a good teacher. The best. My father once heard the apostles speak. It so filled his heart that he has spent the rest of his life trying to share it with others.”
Decimus looked at her thoughtfully. “I wonder if my parents have ever heard the salvation message.”
“Someday, Decimus, you must take it to them. I believe God has prepared you for just such a message. You have a way about you. People trust you.”
He looked hard into her eyes. “Do you trust me?”
Sara reached down to pull a cucumber from the vine, even though she could tell it wasn’t quite ripe. Her face flooded with embarrassed
color. “Of course I do. You are the brother I never had.”
He watched her quietly before turning away. “I thought you had a brother.”
Relieved to change the subject, Sara told him about Dathan and their life together. He had always been rebellious and selfish, always avoiding work and seeking pleasure wherever he could find it.
Beatrice walked into the garden. “Sara, my lady wants you.”
Sara got quickly to her feet, reaching down a hand and squeezing Decimus lightly on the shoulder. “Things will work out. You’ll see. Just trust God.”
When Sara walked into Diana’s room, she could tell that she was extremely upset. A leftover supper tray sat untouched on the table beside her. Diana’s hair was mussed and her clothes wrinkled. Sara hadn’t seen her look like this in a long while.
“My lady? You wanted me?”
“I’m going crazy up here! Where were you?” Her voice was almost frenzied, tears shimmering just below the surface of her eyes. It was almost as though they were back to the first step again.
Sara’s forehead wrinkled in bewilderment. “I was in the vegetable garden trying to find something special for your meal, but I see Bacchus has already sent it up.”
“I don’t want anything to eat. Take it away,” she commanded imperiously.
Unsure just what had brought about the change, Sara did as she was told. She watched Diana cautiously, hoping that the young girl would confide in her.
“Sara?”
“Yes, my lady?”
“If your God cares so much about you, why does He let bad things happen?” There was a decided anger behind the curiosity.
Sara took a deep breath. Antonius had forbidden her to speak about such things with Diana, and to defy him would be a sin. But wouldn’t it be more of a sin to remain silent? The apostle Peter had been forbidden to speak the gospel message, had even been sent to prison when he refused to remain silent. Could she do any less?
“No one knows the mind and ways of God,” she told Diana firmly.
“Is that a convenient way of saying you don’t know?” she asked sarcastically.
Sara blushed, but her eyes remained unyielding in their intensity. “No, it is just a way of saying I don’t always understand. Sometimes things happen that we don’t understand, but eventually they work out for God’s purpose.”
“Can you give me an instance?”
Thinking hard, Sara finally began to tell Diana the story of Joseph and his rise to power in Egypt. Diana sat enthralled, hanging on every word. When Sara finally finished, Diana looked at her skeptically.
“Is this a true story?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Humph,” Diana responded autocratically. “Better to be the slave of a Roman than of an Egyptian.”
“Better not to be a slave at all,” Sara rejoined softly.
“Tell me another instance,” Diana demanded, and Sara began to tell her the story of Queen Esther. Again Diana was captivated by the story. Her eyes became dreamy, a look of such longing in them that Sara was surprised. What was she thinking? Was she remembering her fiancé of time past?
“So God could be using us for His own purposes?”
“It’s possible,” Sara answered her quietly. “But like I said, I don’t know all the answers.”
Diana settled back against the cushions, staring off into space. “How can you get God to change someone’s mind?”
“What?”
Diana’s eyes, filled with purpose, focused intently on Sara. “How can you reach this God of yours?”
Unsure of just what to do, Sara remained absolutely immobile, biting her lip in indecision. She sat down next to Diana and took her small white hand into her own rough brown one.
“Listen to me, Diana. There’s a whole lot more to this than you know. Let me try to explain.”
For the next hour, Sara urgently related the salvation story to Diana. For some reason, she felt that it was imperative to make her understand. They argued back and forth. Diana was reluctant to give up the desire for action on her part. Perhaps if she made a sacrifice to Aphrodite, Flavius would change his mind about his bride and choose Diana instead. She mentioned nothing of this to Sara, and yet Sara sensed more behind the questions than Diana was divulging.
Finally Diana sat back exhausted. “But He’s a Jewish God! What does He care about Romans?”
“He loves everyone, Diana; they just don’t know it. He is not a Jewish God. He is not a Jew. He only chose the Jewish people because at that time they had more of a heart for Him. He needed a race of people to bring His Son into the world. He chose the Jews, but He could have just as easily chosen another people. Now that His Son has come, He doesn’t need to keep a set-apart people. He still loves the Jews, but most of them have rejected the Son He sent to them in love.”
Diana shook her head slowly from side to side. “How could they? After all that He did for them?”
“Many of the Jews are still waiting for a warrior king. Someone to help them reclaim what they have lost. They don’t understand how great His love is. God is love,” Sara finished softly.
When she left Diana’s room, Sara still didn’t know if Diana truly understood, but she felt she had made a step in the right direction. Sara had brushed Diana’s hair and helped prepare her for bed. Whatever had been bothering Diana earlier seemed to have been pushed aside for the time being.
❧
Antonius stared around him in aggravation. All the noise and confusion were getting on his nerves, and he longed suddenly for the peace of the villa.
“Don’t look now,” Flavius interrupted his thoughts, “but the spider has entered and seems to be looking for a particular prey.”
All eyes were riveted on the voluptuous redhead threading her way through the throng of people. Antonius had to admit she was well worth looking at, but an image of pure brown eyes suddenly filled his mind. Whatever had made him think of Sara? Shrugging his shoulders, he plastered a smile on his face as Helena stood before him, her emerald green eyes sparkling with intent.
“So, Antonius,” she purred. “I haven’t seen you in a long while. I’ve missed you.”
Antonius lifted a cynical dark eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe, Helena. The last time you talked to me, you assured me I was quite boring.”
Color suffused her face, and Antonius was impressed. He had assumed Helena had forgotten how to blush a long time ago.
“Only a plebeian would remind me of such a thing,” she told him angrily.
Flavius burst into laughter. “And there you have it, Antonius. That should effectively put you in your place.”
Helena glared angrily at Flavius. “Why don’t you go find someone else to talk to and let Antonius and I exchange apologies.”
Flavius pressed his lips tightly together to keep from laughing at Antonius’s thunderstruck expression. He got quickly to his feet, patting Antonius on the back. “See you later, old friend.”
“I could get you for desertion,” Antonius hissed angrily for Flavius’s ears alone, which only caused the young man more merriment.
Helena slid down on the cushions next to Antonius, leaning close against his side. She slid one hand suggestively up his arm before latching on to it possessively.
“I hear Diana is much improved. I’m pleased. Now you won’t need to run off so often.”
Antonius felt the sweat begin to break out on his brow. This party of Gaius’s was turning into a show fit for the Circus Maximus. As a soldier, Antonius had faced death many times. Without fear. But this woman clinging to his arm made his mouth go dry with trepidation. How could he have thought her attractive? He must have been blind!
Again Sara’s image floated into his mind, and he shook his head in anger to rid himself of the picture. Sara didn’t approve of such parties, and she certainly wouldn’t approve of the different people draped over couches in various stages of undress. What she would most disapprove of would be the men with the men and the women
with the women. He could almost see her disapproving scowl. Suddenly he felt very unclean. Helena stared at him in surprise when he rose quickly to his feet.
“Excuse me, Helena. There is something I have to do.”
“Can’t it wait?” she pleaded. “We could go to my house if you have had enough of the crowd.” Her voice lowered suggestively. “I could help you relax.”
Swallowing hard, Antonius shook his head. “Perhaps I will see you again,” he told her dismissively and knew he would feel her wrath sooner or later. He headed quickly for the exit, not breathing until he reached the outside. He released his breath slowly, feeling as though he had just barely managed to escape with his life.
The afternoon sun warmed his face as he lifted it to the sky, dragging in deep, clean breaths. Flavius followed him out the door. “Is it just me, or have these parties begun to pall?”
Antonius looked at him wryly. “You didn’t have to leave on my account.”
“Why not?” Flavius wanted to know. “I only went on your account.”
Antonius grinned. “Well, do me a favor the next time I’m tempted to go. Remind me that I might run into Helena.”
Flavius shivered melodramatically. “The gods forbid!”
As they walked out the gate, Antonius turned to his friend solemnly. “What’s happening to us, Flavius? All of a sudden, I seem to be on the outside looking in.”
Nodding his head in agreement, Flavius smiled at his friend. “Maybe we’re just getting old.”
Antonius blew through his lips. “Speak for yourself, old man.” He shook his head. “No, it’s more than that. I find myself condemning things I used to participate in. The parties are only a part of it.”
“Perhaps you’ve had your head in those dusty old manuscripts too much lately.”
“Then what’s your excuse?”
Flavius grinned wryly but shook his head. Antonius stared at him, a sudden illumination lighting up his eyes. “A woman!”
The Eagle And The Lamb (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Page 9
