“What of Ramoth?”
Jaw clenched, he continued down the steps. His very rigidness told Samah that he would never return, and she felt her heart fracture into tiny little pieces.
“He is free to go,” he told her brusquely.
When Cassius arrived back at his villa, he quickly made his way to Ramoth’s room. He found it empty.
THIRTEEN
Cassius sat in his father’s peristyle, his blank eyes looking out over the immaculately kept garden. His mind wandered over the many years he had spent here as a child and later as a man.
Sighing, he took a deep breath of the cool winter air. He could almost hear the sounds of childish laughter mingled with the louder, throatier laugh of Anticus. He could picture Samah and Anticus huddled together, their faces lit with something he didn’t understand. Overwhelmed with grief, he didn’t know what to do.
To lose his father and Samah in the same day was more than he could bear. His love for the woman had blossomed unaware, and now he felt even emptier than before. For the first time, he understood what he had done to the women in his life.
But there was a difference. Samah was not untouched as he had been. He had seen the agony in her lovely eyes when she denied him. Perhaps he should have pushed his suit further, but he hadn’t been thinking clearly at the time. All he knew was that the pain caused by his father’s death had escalated with the loss of Samah.
“Cassius.”
Trajan stood in the doorway, his eyes alive with worry.
Cassius glanced at him, then away. “What do you want?”
Though there was no welcome in Cassius’s voice, Trajan entered the garden anyway. He came and stood beside Cassius.
“Are you all right?”
Cassius snorted. “All right? What do you think?” He turned, and studied the older man. Though Trajan’s blue eyes were filled with grief, there was a peace and serenity that Cassius was far from feeling. It angered him that the general seemed so unmoved.
“I think,” Trajan confided quietly, “that if you could only believe in what your father believed in, you would find the tranquility you are seeking.”
Cassius got up quickly, moving away. Another minute and he was likely to strangle the older man with his bare hands.
“This religion you have embraced makes no sense. Why should I believe in such nonsense?”
Trajan smiled sadly. “I agree it makes no sense, but it fills your very heart with the presence of God. What sense is there in loving your enemies? In treating kindly those who heap abuse on you? In turning the other cheek when someone strikes you?” He shook his head. “No, it makes no sense. That is, until you understand the great love of a Father God.”
Slumping wearily, Cassius turned and searched Trajan’s face. “I understand the love of a father,” he choked.
Sitting down on the bench, Trajan asked him, “Do you? Do you really? Anticus gave you love, and gifts, and helped you win favor in the Senate and with the emperor. Does that mean he loved you?”
Cassius frowned. “Yes,” he replied in confusion. “That’s part of it. What exactly are you trying to say?”
Trajan leaned forward, his eyes beseeching. “Who gives you life? Who gives you the very air that you breathe? Who gives you the warmth of the sun, the light of the moon, the beauty of the flowers on the hillside? God does. Does that mean He loves you? Most assuredly, because even beyond that, He gave you the greatest gift of all: He gave you His Son.”
Trajan got up and crossed to Cassius’s side. Cassius looked at him warily.
“It was so easy for Anticus to believe because he was a father. The thought of giving one’s own son to die so that someone else might live, he understood that kind of sacrifice. That kind of love.”
Casting him an impatient look, Cassius asked, “What makes you think that this Jewish god is the right one?”
Trajan lifted a brow. “You’ve been to many lands and seen many gods. Tell me, what kind of life do the people live? What kind of things do their gods teach them? How to kill, like the barbarians in Germania? How to live lives full of lust and debauchery so that they become diseased and wither and die?”
Cassius met his look. “Like Rome, you mean?”
“Yes, like Rome.”
Leaning against a railing trailing dry grapevines, Cassius studied his blood father. Memories of long walks among the hillsides and long talks on the banks of the Tiber assailed him. This man had been a true friend to him over the years. A mentor.
“The things you say tear at the very fabric of Rome. Be careful, Trajan, or you might be charged with treason.”
Feeling defeated, Trajan sighed. “Then so be it. I promised Anticus that I would try to teach you the way to salvation. You are lost, Cassius, in more ways than one.”
Cassius surprised Trajan with his soft answer.
“I know.”
“Cassius, if you study Jewish history, you will see the hand of God throughout it.”
“Like now?” he asked sarcastically. “It’s a wonder that anyone believes in this Jewish God the way He has destroyed His followers.”
“The Jews have rejected God’s Son, so now He has given up on them and turned to the Gentiles. The Gentiles are hungry for the love of such a God. They see only lives filled with depravity and greed, and they want something more for themselves and their children. God gives them the hope they are seeking, the knowledge that this life is temporary and that there is something much better waiting for them beyond the grave.”
Cassius could picture the many people dying in the arena. Many died singing praises to this God, and he had marveled at such a faith. He knew that most Romans would quickly relinquish their worship of any god if they thought their lives were at stake.
Christians would willingly give their lives in defense of their God. His thoughts turned to Samah, and he again felt the pain of her rejection. He could see in her eyes that it grieved her to turn him away, but he knew she would never relent. As surely as a Christian would walk into an arena, Samah would walk away from his love.
Trajan interrupted his thoughts. “Cassius, will you keep your promise to Anticus and go to see your mother?”
Cassius gave him a look filled with aggravation. He really didn’t want to think about this now.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll go with you, if it will make it any easier.”
Cassius smiled snidely. “What, a family reunion?” Though he had promised Anticus, Cassius had his reservations about keeping the promise. His guilty conscience smote him, and he realized that he might as well get it over with sooner than later. He crossed to where a large bronze gong sat upright in the garden. Lifting the hammer, he struck it soundly. Hector came at his summons.
“Hector, bring us some wine.” Cassius grinned at Trajan. “If I’m going to see my mother, I will need some fortification.”
❧
Ramoth stared at his sister and sighed. Over the last week, she had become a pale replica of herself.
When he had made his way to Jonah’s house, Samah had been unsurprised by his presence. She told him what had transpired between her and the Roman, and Ramoth had been impressed by his sister’s devotion to Jehovah. He supposed he shouldn’t have been because it was like having history repeat itself. His own father and mother had walked away from a difficult relationship and for the same reason.
Now he realized the pain it had caused his beloved sister. Her words of commitment to the Lord were more than just words. She truly lived by her faith. Locked in a jail cell for almost three years, he had all but forgotten the truth he had learned from childhood. Samah had brought it back to him with ringing clarity.
She stood on the balcony of the apartment, her eyes gazing towards the part of the city where Cassius lived. Though Ramoth had tried to get them passage on a ship, he had been unable to do so. Most captains were reluctant to sail in the wintertime.
Capua came into the room, her eyes quickly finding Ramoth. She s
miled with warmth, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder.
“Have you ever played knucklebones, Ramoth?”
He shook his head, noticing the bones clutched in her hand. Returning her smile, he told her, “No, I haven’t.”
“Would you like to learn?”
One of the things he admired about Capua was her lack of artifice. Her brown eyes sparkled with joy and innocence. She and Samah were much alike, and that’s probably why they got along so well. Still, he and Samah couldn’t impose on their hospitality too much longer.
Calling to his sister, he smiled when she turned to him.
“Capua wants to teach us to play knucklebones.”
She returned his smile half-heartedly. “You go ahead. I think I will go for a walk.”
Instantly alert, he spoke more sharply than he intended. “Not alone.”
Samah regarded him with ill-concealed impatience. “Yes, alone. I won’t go far.”
He was about to argue with her when Capua laid a hand against his forearm. “Let her go, Ramoth. She will be safe enough on the streets of Rome.”
Remembering how easy it had been to abduct her even in a crowd, he doubted Capua’s assurances.
“I don’t know. . .”
Samah came to him, and laying her hands lightly on his shoulders, she reached up and kissed his cheek. She stared hard into his eyes until he had to look away.
“I’m not a baby anymore,” she reminded him.
He grinned. “You will always be my baby sister.” Studying her pale face, he finally relented. “Go, then. But if you aren’t back within the hour, I will come looking for you.”
She wrinkled her nose at him but said nothing. Going past him, she went to her room to fetch a shawl. Ramoth followed her. Expecting more admonitions, Samah was surprised when Ramoth handed her a coin.
“In case you get hungry.”
Taking the coin, she then laid her palm gently against his cheek. She smiled into his eyes. “I love you.”
He watched her leave the room, his own eyes misty with his feelings.
Samah descended the dark stairway and came out into the bustling marketplace. Uncertain where to go, she wandered slowly along the busy streets.
She passed the fuller’s and stopped to watch a servant treading in a mixture that cleaned clothing. Beyond him, other servants were laying togas over frames suspended over fires. The smell of the sulfur used to whiten the garments caused Samah to wrinkle her nose with distaste. She quickly moved on.
She passed two men painting an advertisement for the next week’s chariot races on one of the buildings. They paused in their work to watch her walk by, and she felt suddenly frightened. Always before, she had had Sentinel with her. Now, she was alone and vulnerable.
“Samah.”
Surprised, she turned to find Trajan not ten feet away. She smiled a welcome. He closed the distance between them, his eyes assessing her.
“Are you alone?”
She shrugged. “As you can see.”
He lifted a brow, shifting his toga over his shoulder. “Would you like some company?”
Thinking that he might have some word about Cassius, she hastily agreed. He fell into step beside her.
“How have you been? I thought you would be on your way home to Palestine by now.”
“Ramoth has tried, but shipping has slowed to the region since winter has set in.”
“I see.” He looked down at her. “Did you know that Cassius has been to see his mother?”
She lifted eyes filled with joy to his face. “That’s wonderful.”
Trajan nodded, his gaze once more forward. He pulled Samah out of the way of a loaded two-wheeled cart being pulled by a young man in an obvious hurry.
“They have finally made their peace with each other. I won’t be surprised if Cassius allows her to move in with him.”
Shocked, she turned to him. “Things have gone that well between them?”
He nodded again, smiling at her. “Callista is of the Way.”
Mouth parted in surprise, Samah felt her heart swell with jubilation. Surely Jehovah was indeed placing people in Cassius’s path to bring him to a knowledge of salvation. She prayed for Cassius every day, and it would seem her prayers were coming to fruition.
“And Cassius?” she asked hesitantly.
Trajan grinned wryly. “He is pig-headed, but I see a softening in him.”
“Praise Jehovah!”
Trajan looked at her intently. He took her by the arm and pulled her towards a tavern.
“Come and have a meal with me. I’m famished.”
Agreeing readily, she waited until they were seated before asking what was uppermost on her mind.
“Cassius, does he still grieve for Anticus?”
Trajan saw the sorrow reflected in her eyes, and took her by the hand. “You truly love my son, don’t you?”
Flushing, Samah quickly pulled her hand away. The caco-phony of sounds from inside the tavern, mixed with the sounds from outside, made it hard to hear. She caught Trajan’s look and realized she didn’t need to say anything.
“And he loves you.”
Her heart jumped, thrumming heavily in response to his words. She cast her gaze to the table, her finger tracing a carving from a previous customer.
“He has never said so.”
Trajan cocked his head slightly. “Did you give him the chance?”
Biting her lip, she leaned back in her chair. She waited until the proprietor had filled their goblets with wine before she answered him.
“He asked me to stay with him. I told him I couldn’t.”
“Ah.” Trajan relaxed back in his seat, eyeing Samah seriously. “And I take it he said nothing about marriage.”
She shook her head, not able to look at him.
“Perhaps you misunderstood each other. Maybe you should give him another chance.”
She glared at him. “You of all people should understand. Cassius is not a believer.”
“Not yet,” he said smoothly.
She studied him. “Do you really think there’s a chance?”
“I know there is. He was asking me about baptism only this morning.”
Samah felt suddenly lightheaded. It would be an answer to her prayers if Cassius could indeed believe, but she suddenly wondered if that would truly have any effect on their relationship. She remembered the hurtful resignation in his eyes when she had denied him. Could he ever really forgive her for that?
They finished their meal and Trajan got to his feet. “Come, let me walk you home. I have a meeting with the solicitor this afternoon, or I would spend more time with you.”
She took his hand and allowed him to help her stand. They walked in silence back to Jonah’s flat.
Trajan took her hand at the door, lifting it to his lips and kissing it. “Have patience, Samah.”
She knew what he meant. She watched him walk away, her heart suddenly light for the first time in days.
❧
Cassius strode along the streets of Rome feeling as though he were walking on air. Trajan had baptized him this morning, and he felt a great sense of coming home. Sentinel walked at his side, his alert ears twitching at the sounds around him.
They had been right, all of them—Anticus, Trajan, Samah, his mother. Accepting on faith that there was one true God and that He had sent His Son to die for the remission of all mankind was easier than he had expected. For the first time in his life, the empty spot within him was filled—filled with a wonderful presence.
Releasing all the pain from past hurts, he had reached out and grasped the hope offered to him. Now, he felt free for the first time in years. Free to love his mother. Free to accept Trajan. Free to marry Samah! It had been three long weeks since he had seen her, and thinking of her now brought that familiar rush of feeling.
He headed for the palace of the Palatine. Emperor Vespasian had requested his presence, and he was in a hurry to see him. He hoped the emperor would allow
him to relinquish his command.
He wanted to find Samah and return with her to Samaria. He knew she grieved for her parents, and he was determined that she return as his wife so that there could be no argument against them.
Having been expected, he was quickly ushered into the emperor’s presence. Vespasian reclined on a couch, the gold laurel leaf crown on his head reflecting prisms of sunlight when he turned.
He lifted the jewel-studded goblet he was drinking from. “Commander Cassius. Come forth. Join me in a drink.”
Cassius hit his breastplate in salute, taking the goblet a servant offered him.
“Your majesty,” he said, bowing low.
“Have a seat, Cassius. No need to stand on formality.” He motioned to the couch next to him. “My son, Titus, has in-formed me of your valiant exploits in Palestine. That is why I have summoned you. I want you to return and help Flavius Silva overcome a band of rebel Jews that have barricaded themselves inside the fortress at Masada.”
Cassius’s heart sank. “But, Your Majesty, I was hoping to be relieved of my command.”
Vespasian lifted a supercilious brow. “At the mere age of twenty-two? You have not yet served your twenty years.”
“True,” Cassius agreed. “But with my father’s death, I now have two properties to oversee. There are things that I need to do, and I can’t if I am away all the time.”
The emperor placed his goblet on the marble table at his side. He turned slowly.
“I heard about Anticus. I’m sorry. He was a good man.”
Cassius felt the lump of grief rise into his throat. The wounds inflicted by his father’s death were still too raw.
Vespasian considered Cassius quietly for several moments. Finally, he smiled.
“You have done much for Rome, you and Anticus. I will grant you your release from duty.”
Relieved, Cassius got to his feet. “Thank you, Majesty.”
“Cassius.” Vespasian reclined nonchalantly against the cushions of his couch. His dark eyes met Cassius’s, and Cassius felt himself go cold all over at the look. “There is something else you can do for me. I have heard rumors of a sect that I thought Nero had destroyed rising again in Rome. They are called Christians. Keep your eyes and ears open, and if you hear of anything substantial, please report it to me.”
Captive Heart (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Page 15
