“I forbid it.”
She gave him a look he recognized from childhood, one that said she would humor him, but only up to certain point.
“Please sit down, Son. You make me nervous pacing about like a lion.”
He dropped to the seat beside her, his legs suddenly weak. How had she managed to hide such a thing? It hurt him that something so momentous had been kept secret from him. Before he had been sent to Rome, he and his mother had always had a close relationship. They had leaned against each other in order to survive his father’s abuse. No one knew what his father had truly been like because he and his mother had, by mutual, unspoken consent, kept such intimate matters confidential. It had forged a bond between them that had lasted throughout the years.
“How long has this been going on?” he asked darkly.
She frowned at him, straightening her red palla around her shoulders. Leaning forward, she pulled a dried bougainvillea leaf from the fountain.
“Nothing is going on!” she chided him. “I became a Christian several years ago. I went to hear the Apostle Peter speak and was convinced that Jesus was the true Son of Elohim.”
He leaned his elbows against his knees, pushing the hair back from his forehead with both hands. He released a pent-up breath.
“The Jews would kill you for such a thing.” Not to mention the Romans, who hated Christians even more than Jews.
Leah laid a hand against his back and started rubbing slow circles. Instead of calming him, he tensed against her touch.
“Many Jews have come to believe in Him.” She paused, her voice lowering. “Even my father.”
He jerked his head up, turning to glare at her. “And?”
“We have made our peace,” she told him softly.
He jumped up, glaring down at her, fists clenched at his sides. “And just like that, you forgive him?”
Her brown eyes misted with tears as she smiled up at him. “We forgave each other.”
“Mother! What did you have to be forgiven for?” He wanted to shake some sense into her. His neat little world was being turned upside down.
She reached out and took his hand, squeezing slightly. He wanted to jerk away but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
“For being a disobedient daughter. For denying my faith. For many things that you can’t possibly understand right now.”
“You mean because I’m not a Christian.”
Her sorrowful brown eyes met his, a sad smile touching her lips. “Yes, because you are not a Christian.”
He knelt before her, taking her other hand and unknowingly crushing both hands in his grip.
“Mother, this Jesus was a common criminal who was crucified on a cross. If He was the Son of this God of yours, why would your God allow such a thing?”
“Our Father allowed it for our salvation, Lucius, so that we could spend eternity with Him. Jesus was the sacrificial lamb that took away the sins of the world.”
That certainly fit in with his perception of a father. Manipulating. Abusing His power. Could his mother not see that? Could she not see that this God of hers was a tyrant? He demanded everything from His followers even unto death. He had seen Christians in Rome crucified for refusing to worship Nero as a god. Even here in Jerusalem these Christians had been persecuted and killed. Where was their God then? Terror for his mother clutched at his heart.
“He took away your sins, as well, Lucius. If only you would believe in Him, He has reached out to you in death.”
Lucius released her hands and rose to his feet shaking his head. “Don’t expect me to worship this God of yours.”
“Son, you have been searching for the truth all of your life. You have always had an open mind in your searching. Don’t close it now. He wants to be the father that you never had, the kind of father every man should be.”
“You want me to be open-minded about this? A father who slays his children?” He shook his head and stepped away from her. “Never. I will never allow such a man to have so much power over me ever again.”
He hated the hurt he caused her. “You want me to be open-minded, Mother. But in this I cannot be.”
Leah shook her head. “Not just open-minded, Lucius. Openhearted, as well.”
He would give his mother the world if he could. He had always been her protector, often taking the beatings on himself that were meant for her. He loved her without measure and would keep her safe in whatever way needed. Even if it meant protecting her from herself.
Chapter 4
Anna sat wrapped in a wool shawl on the balcony above the peristyle enjoying the light, cool breeze that caused her hair to gently tickle the edges of her face. Her skin was kissed by the warmth of the sun and she lifted her face to it, closing her eyes and relishing the contentment that had been missing from her life for a very long time.
The birds trilling in the garden below brought a smile to her face. Although the swelling had receded to a point where she no longer grimaced when she was trying to smile, the yellow-green color of the bruises would take longer to fade.
She leaned over the balustrade and threw to the ground below some of the crumbs she had hoarded from her breakfast. A small ruckus broke out as the sparrows fought for the meager sustenance.
Days had slipped into a week. The pain that she awoke with each day lessened until it was finally bearable for her to move around. All except her ribs, and Levi had told her that would take more time.
She brushed a hand against the saffron-colored tunic that Leah had given her. The generosity of the woman was overwhelming. The silky texture of the robe was almost hypnotic as it glided against her skin, leaving her feeling as though she was wrapped in a silken cocoon. She had never seen such a garment, much less hoped to wear one.
Did it make her look less plain, she wondered? And if so, would a man like Tribune Lucius Tindarium think so? She smiled wryly at such foolish thoughts. She wasn’t even sure what had made such an idea pop into her head.
Anna had seen nothing of Lucius for some days, but his charisma seemed to linger in her room, his vitality adding a presence that was missed long after he was gone. Everywhere she looked she could picture his solemn features. She had seen him smile only twice, and even then, his smile did not reach his eyes. She wondered if the man ever smiled unreservedly. She knew without doubt that if he ever did, he would be devastatingly handsome. He was attractive enough without a smile. With one, he would be lethal.
Leah had informed her that Lucius had been called away and would be gone for some time. Anna breathed a sigh of relief at the news. She was uncertain why it was so, but he unsettled her to the point that she could hardly think when she was in his presence. Perhaps it was because he was a Roman but, if she was honest with herself, she would admit that it was not.
It was something altogether different that made her nerves tingle when she was around him. Something that put her senses on guard. Something she wasn’t certain if she should fear or not.
Leah, on the other hand, was someone she had quickly grown to love. She was kindness personified. They spent many hours together talking of various things, the most important being the things they had each learned from letters that had been distributed by the various disciples to the house churches in the area. It thrilled them both to have found kindred spirits in each other.
There was a knock on the door and Anna turned to call admittance. Leah entered, her sky-blue tunic flowing gracefully around her, her sandal-shod feet tapping against the marble tiles. She was followed by a maid carrying a tray.
“I thought perhaps you might like some refreshment.”
Anna felt a moment’s disquiet. Jewish laws of hospitality aside, it didn’t sit well with her to be a burden to someone for such a long time. Her father had pounded into her head that she was nothing but a nuisance and now she w
as proving him right.
“I truly don’t wish to be a burden to you,” she stated uncomfortably, watching as Leah brought another chair onto the balcony, and then a small table. The maid set the tray on the table and stood back, awaiting instructions.
Leah waved away Anna’s objections with a ring-encrusted hand. “Nonsense. Having you here has been one of the greatest blessings Elohim could have bestowed on me.”
She turned to the maid, her smile broadening. “Of course, I have Tapat here to keep me company.”
Tapat returned her smile. Anna studied the girl closely, noting that she seemed to have an unusual relationship with the mistress of the house that spoke of more than servitude. She didn’t act like a slave. Although slavery was permitted among the Jews, it was not widely practiced except among the wealthy. And Leah was obviously wealthy, although it was equally obvious that her wealth had not brought her happiness.
Tapat was not much younger than Anna herself. Her name in Hebrew meant “little girl,” and the name fit her well. She was a tiny little thing, even smaller than Anna. The thing that drew Anna to the girl was that she was just as plain in appearance. Anna felt sorry for her and wondered what her story was, but she didn’t know her well enough to ask. Although Tapat was the one who had been attending Anna for the last several days, they had spoken very little.
Leah and Anna watched the maid leave the room, and then Leah turned to Anna.
“Tapat is a Christian, as well. That’s why I chose her to attend you,” Leah told her. “She is more like a daughter to me than a servant.”
Relieved, Anna smiled. “I thought she seemed more than just a servant.”
Leah nodded, reaching out to pour apricot juice from the jug on the tray into one of the Jerusalem-glass goblets. She handed one to Anna and poured one for herself.
“She was a slave of a man who lost all his possessions. He was about to offer her on the slave market when I happened upon him.”
“You bought her?”
Leah nodded again. “And then I gave her her freedom. She stays with me because she has nowhere else to go, and frankly, selfish as it may seem, I am thankful. She has been my one true friend for several years.”
Leah had a houseful of servants. Was Tapat then the only Christian? Anna didn’t think it her place to pry, but she needed to ask. “Has it been very hard for you living here in Jerusalem?”
When Leah reached forward to hand Anna one of the pastries on the tray, the sunlight cast on her features, letting Anna see the fine lines on her face that, although still beautiful, showed that her age was creeping up on her. If she lived the hard life that Anna could imagine, it would explain the tired lines etched around her mouth. Rich or poor, a life without friends and family was a constant drudgery.
“In some ways,” she told Anna, “but in other ways, not so much.” She leaned back in her chair and her look became distant.
“When my husband was alive, there were good times, and there were bad. Lucius couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t leave him.” She smiled sadly. “If I had, I would have lost my son and that was something I was not willing to do.”
She stared off into the distance for some time, the look on her face showing that her thoughts were far away and not altogether pleasant.
“Your son encouraged you to leave your husband?”
Anna was surprised. Whether Jew or Roman, it was a male-dominated world. Sons rarely sided with a mother against a father.
Leah started slightly, as though she had forgotten Anna’s presence for a moment. She glanced at Anna, and then quickly turned away.
“It’s not good to speak ill of the dead.” She set her goblet on the mosaic-topped table and gave a weak smile. “Let us talk of something more enjoyable than my wretched life and the mistakes I made.”
Anna twisted her own goblet in her hands, staring into the golden liquid. She wanted to ask about Levi, but was reluctant to bring up another subject that might be painful to her hostess.
As though she could read Anna’s mind, Leah brought the subject up herself. “My father says that your wounds have healed well and that your ribs should be much better in two or three more weeks.”
Anna nodded her head. “Yes, it’s much easier to breathe even now. I hope I won’t have to inconvenience you much longer.”
Leah reached across and laid a hand on Anna’s. “My dear, you haven’t been an inconvenience. I have enjoyed the company more than you can know.” The serious look on her face gave credence to the statement.
Although she could barely remember her own mother, Leah was very much like the image Anna had fixed in her mind. It was not so much the looks, more the gentle attitude. The comfortable feeling that you were loved for who you were, and not what was expected of you.
“You are a worshipper of Jesus,” Anna stated, wondering if that was so, why Leah was so lonely. “Where then do you meet with other believers?”
The smile Leah gave Anna didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I open my house for those who will come.”
Anna lifted a brow in inquiry and Leah looked away.
“Jewish prejudices are hard to overcome even among Christians. There are few who will associate with a woman they consider a Roman harlot.”
That was certainly true enough. “But you live alone. How can anyone think such a thing now?”
Leah’s smile held just a tinge of bitterness. “Some memories are never forgotten.”
Anna hadn’t known Leah long, but she definitely held no such animosity toward her hostess. How could she when the woman had been nothing but kind?
“How many people come?” Anna finally asked.
Leah twisted the rings on her fingers. “Only Tapat and a few of the other servants.”
It was clear to Anna that Leah was a very lonely woman. Christians should not harbor such grudges. The man Leah claimed as her husband was long dead.
“And your father?”
Leah’s face lit up, erasing the tired lines. “I told you that I believed you to be an answer to prayer. I have been trying to think of a way to bring my father here so that I could talk to him. Imagine my surprise when I found out that he was a follower of the Way.” Her doe-brown eyes glistened with tears. “I have been praying for him, only to find out that he was also praying for me.”
Anna smiled. “I had no idea that Levi had become a Christian. He was always so...” Anna hesitated, searching her mind for a word that wouldn’t be offensive.
“Pharisaical?” Leah inserted, and they both laughed. That one word said a lot.
“Exactly.”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Leah said softly.
“Indeed.”
They both sat in silence for several seconds. Finally, Leah got to her feet.
“I need to go now. I have things to do, but if you don’t mind, I will come back later and have my supper with you.”
“I would like that,” Anna answered quietly.
She watched the older woman leave the room, the proud tilt of her shoulders belied by the air of loneliness that surrounded her. Anna knew suddenly and instinctively that she had found a friend for life.
Lucius trod the halls of the Antonia Fortress, the building named after the great Marc Antony, until he came to his own apartment. He removed his breastplate, gladius and sword and dumped them on his bed. He glanced about and for the first time in his memory felt discontent. Although his apartment was palatial compared to the other soldiers’, it was nothing in comparison to his mother’s house.
It wasn’t the comfort he missed so much as it was the atmosphere. The building itself was fully supplied with a gymnasium, heated baths, a meeting hall and various other rooms besides the barracks rooms. Much of the fortress was as elaborate as any wealthy Roman’s house. But here there was nothing but cold stone
and, even on the brightest day, darkness. And it was a darkness that far transcended absence of light. Here, it was more a darkness of the soul.
He shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts. How had he suddenly become so morbid? He had always been content with his life, if not happy. Why now was he feeling such uneasiness, such restlessness?
Truth be told, it had started after staring into Anna’s liquid brown eyes, which seemed to contain all the mysteries of life. Mysteries he longed to delve into, but was afraid to. Mysteries that, it would seem, his mother had already tested.
He sneered at himself. He couldn’t remember a time when he was afraid, not even in the midst of battle, but now...
What was he so afraid of? A dead carpenter? One thing he had learned long ago was that to overcome a fear, you had to first face it. With that thought in mind, he decided to pay his mother a visit after he removed some of the Judean grime from his body.
He had been gone three weeks now and he had missed his mother more than usual. But, then again, it wasn’t his mother’s face that continually haunted his dreams. It surprised him that he was so anxious to see how Anna had fared in his absence.
He headed for the baths, deciding to bypass the tepidarium’s lukewarm water and chose instead the hot water of the caldarium. His body needed the intense heat to relax his tired muscles.
He passed the palaestra where several soldiers were practicing battle moves. Their well-toned bodies gleamed with sweat from their hours of exercise. They paused and quickly saluted him, and he returned their salute. As a tribune in Rome’s army, he felt a fierce pride in his men.
Several of the men who had returned with him from this last assignment were already in the caldarium. Their chatter echoed in the large tiled room. They greeted him respectfully, and he returned their greetings with a wave.
He found a less-occupied spot and removed his sandals and the blood-red tunic that proclaimed his occupation, placing them in the cubbyholes provided.
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