“I couldn’t leave my mother,” she finally answered him.
His lips parted in surprise. “I thought your mother was dead. Isn’t that why you were working as Leah’s servant?”
She looked down, unable to meet his compelling stare. It was time to tell him the truth even though he would probably shun her as everyone else had.
And what did it matter anyway? Andronicus could never be anything to her. He was a soldier of Rome, an enemy of her people. More to the point, his life was one of heathen hedonism. If she had thoughts of anything between them, she had best forget them before she wound up with a broken heart.
“My mother was a leper in the Valley of Lepers several miles from here.”
It had taken great courage to push the words past her lips, but the relief of it made her thankful that she had finally found the strength to admit it to him.
The silence that followed was profound. She chanced a peek at him and saw that his mind was trying to assimilate what she had just revealed to him. Instead of horror, she saw confusion.
“I don’t understand. You were a slave when Leah bought you.”
Her pulse was pounding in her ears. He wasn’t looking at her with disgust but, rather, pity. She was thankful that he hadn’t withdrawn from her after her revelation; still, she didn’t want his pity.
“When the priests told my mother that she had leprosy, everyone we knew withdrew from us, even my father. He tried to take me with him, but I ran away and went back to my mother. He was too afraid to come after me. Without my father’s support, we had no way to live, so I sold myself as a slave to a man in the city who hadn’t heard of my mother’s disease, and I used the money he paid me to secretly care for her.”
He studied her thoughtfully. “Yet, you have no sign of the disease.”
She shook her head, once again not meeting his eyes. “After I sold myself, my mother was so upset that she decided to live in the leper colony rather than be a burden on me or possibly infect me. It took me days to find her.” Tears filled her voice. “As though she could ever be a burden,” she added heatedly.
There was a long pause.
“You said she was a leper?” His soft voice held sympathy. “Did she die?”
Tapat’s throat was choked with a grief that was still too new. She nodded, fighting to suppress the tears that wanted to undo all the feelings she had firmly held in check.
“Two days ago,” she choked out. Despite herself, a lone tear escaped and slid down her cheek.
At Andronicus’s low growl, she looked up.
He reached down and pulled her into his arms, holding her head against his chest. The metal plates dug into her cheek, but she barely noticed.
“Go ahead and cry,” he told her hoarsely.
She resisted but a moment and then surrendered to the grief she had been holding at bay for the past two days. Her eyes let forth an unceasing river of misery and pain, pain that had been with her ever since they had been banned from the Jewish community years ago. His other arm wrapped more tightly around her waist. It was as though he was trying to take the hurt from her and onto himself.
Eventually, there were no more tears left to fall. Grief spent, she hung limply in his arms. He continued to stroke her back in a way that brought comfort and security. It had been so long since she had had anyone to lean on, and it felt good to be able to relax and surrender to his care.
“What will you do now?” he asked softly.
“I don’t know,” she murmured. She would be content to stand thus the rest of her life. “There’s nothing for me in Jerusalem now. I’ll probably go to Pella.”
She felt him tense. “Alone?”
She glanced up at him and blanched in surprise when she found his face so near. Realizing the precariousness of the situation, she pushed out of his arms to put some distance between them. His reluctance to let her go mirrored her own, but she had learned long ago that she could only depend on herself and Elohim.
She met his gaze with one of determination. “I am alone. I have been for years. I can take care of myself.”
He lifted a brow dubiously. “Do you have food and money for this journey?”
“I have money,” she answered. “I will go into Jerusalem and buy some food before setting out.”
He shook his head. As he took her by the shoulders, she swallowed hard at his suddenly fierce expression.
“There is no food, Tapat. Titus has allowed people into Jerusalem, but he will allow no one out. If you go in, you will be killed. The zealots will think you a spy. Either that or you will starve to death like those people you see hanging on the crosses outside of the city walls. Many of them snuck out of the city, desperate for food, even to eat the grass growing around the city, and were caught.”
She had been hearing stories of what was happening in and around Jerusalem, but living so close to the leper colony, they had been just that—stories. Dodging her way through the hordes of Roman soldiers between the Valley of Lepers and Jerusalem had made the stories all too real. She had had no idea of where she was going or what she would do when she got there, but she had to make it to this cave, where she had stored most of the gold Leah had given her. But gold would do her no good without food and water.
Releasing her, Andronicus brushed a hand back through his hair in agitation.
He turned back to her. “Don’t go into Jerusalem. Stay here. I’ll find a way to get some supplies to you.”
Suddenly afraid for him, she placed a hand on his arm. “That’s not necessary, Andronicus. I don’t want to cause trouble for you.”
He placed his hand over hers, squeezing gently. The heat from his calloused palm traveled up her arm and then slowly warmed her entire body. When their eyes met, something passed between them that left her too shaken to acknowledge.
“It’s no trouble,” he told her roughly. “Promise that you will wait here for me, even if it takes a day or two.”
He took a small bundle from his belt and handed it to her along with his water flask.
“It’s not much, but it will keep you from starving and thirsting.”
She tried to hand it back to him. “What about you? The heat from the sharav can quickly kill a man without water.”
He closed her hands around the containers and wrapped his own hands around them. “I am not far from my camp. I can get more. Take it, and promise me you will wait.”
She nodded reluctantly. “Very well. I will wait.”
She followed his look to the entrance of the cave and realized that the storm had abated without their notice. He released her hands and lifted a palm to cup her cheek. He stared hard into her eyes for several long seconds. When he spoke, his voice was husky.
“I’ll come back soon. I promise.”
With that, he picked up his cape from the floor of the cave where he had dropped it. Giving her one last look, he disappeared outside.
Chapter 2
Tapat watched from the entrance of the cave as Andronicus scrambled down the hillside, sucking in a breath when he nearly lost his footing. How many times had she watched those broad shoulders and that muscled physique and wished for something that could never be?
The man could have been a model for one of the many statues of Mars, the Roman god of war, which she had once seen in Caesarea. He stood head and shoulders above most of the men of her acquaintance, his powerful muscles attesting to the many years of service spent wielding the sword at his side.
He turned and glanced back at her, a black forelock falling from beneath his helmet, and even across the distance she could feel the magnetic pull of his cinnamon-colored eyes. He motioned with his head for her to go back inside. Nodding, she turned and retreated into the cool interior.
She went to the boulder she had been hiding behind and removed the sack of go
ld she had buried beneath it. Her former mistress had given her this gold before she left for Rome, and although she had made use of it to care for her mother and the others in the Valley of Lepers, she still had much of it left.
She opened the bag and pulled out a smaller bag containing a dried flower that was beginning to crumble from its rough handling over the past few days. She gently stroked a finger over the dried blossom, remembering when Andronicus had given it to her. He often came to the villa to see Lucius, and that day he had startled her in the peristyle.
“Hello, Tapat.”
Tapat had whirled at the voice, one hand going to her chest as she sucked in a sharp breath.
“Andronicus! You frightened ten years from my life.”
How could a man as large as he move with such stealthy grace? The thudding of her heart had changed tempo when he came closer. He had grinned.
“I suspect it wasn’t my fault. You seemed to be a million miles away.”
That was certainly true, though she would never have shared with him why it was so.
“Are you looking for Tribune Lucius? I think he is in the bibliotheca.”
Andronicus then glanced toward the library but turned back to her. He’d moved closer and she’d taken a hasty step in retreat, almost tumbling into the garden’s fountain. If not for his quick reflexes, she would have made a complete fool of herself.
He didn’t immediately release her, and the warmth of his touch had tingled through her and brought swift color to her face. Her eyes had widened in fear, not of him but of her reaction to him. Seeing her look of distress, he’d released her.
“Th...thank you.”
“My pleasure.” The timbre of his voice had given a meaning to the words that was hard to miss, even for someone as naive as she.
He then took a hibiscus blossom from the bush next to the fountain and placed it behind her ear, allowing his hand to slide down and cup her cheek.
What would have happened next, she would never know. Self-preservation had made her pull away even though she longed to stay. She had fled from the garden as though the hounds of Hades were after her.
Tapat sighed and came back to the present. So many things had happened to her in the past two days that her mind was still trying to make sense of the confusion. She didn’t even know where to begin. She had prayed to the Lord for protection and deliverance, and He had sent her Andronicus. How ironic.
When the zealots overthrew the Roman soldiers at the Antonia Fortress in Jerusalem a few years ago and then took over the city, she had managed to escape through one of the myriad tunnels that wended their way under the city.
She had needed to be near her mother, and nothing was going to stand in her way. Not the zealots. Not even the whole Roman army.
Jesus had given His disciples a warning of events to come and when the signs began to be fulfilled, everyone had left the city. Everyone, that is, except her. She couldn’t leave her mother no matter how dangerous it might be to stay.
Even from this hill one could see the many crosses standing before the city of Jerusalem, reminding her of what Andronicus had just told her. Her people were literally being starved to death. As they escaped the city, Roman justice was swift and sure. Tapat knew without a doubt that it was only by her Lord’s protection that she had made it to the safety of this cave, and that safety was tenuous. She ached from the pain and loss that those crosses represented.
She settled herself on the cold ground and opened the bag of supplies Andronicus had given her. Roman soldiers carried enough supplies on them to last for three days, but what she found in the bag would last her much longer. Even after two days she still had very little appetite, her grief being still too new. But she couldn’t allow her body to weaken if she hoped to make the long trek to Pella.
Taking a handful of corn, she munched on the kernels as she tried to decide what to do next. She had promised Andronicus that she would remain here, but what if something happened to him? How would she even know? She couldn’t stay here indefinitely; someone was sure to find her.
A lizard ran across the floor and up the far wall of the cave. Tapat smiled.
“There you are. Where did you disappear to?”
The small reptile had kept her company for the past couple of days. She had seen no sign of him all day and wondered if something had happened to it. Despite the fact that reptiles were considered unclean animals, the little creature had made her feel just a little less lonely. It cocked its head slightly, keeping a wary eye on her.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She began a rambling conversation that included everything from the treachery of the zealots to her mother’s death, winding up with that astonishing moment when she had come face-to-face with the only man she had ever loved.
Were anyone to hear her, they would surely think her a lunatic, especially conversing with a lizard. She smiled wryly to herself. Loneliness could make a person do some strange things.
She felt the loneliness more keenly now, knowing that her mother was no longer there to care for. She had no one now. Her father had died several years ago of fever. Strange that her mother had outlived the man who had been responsible for shunning them from the Jewish community. When Tapat learned of his death, she had felt nothing but pity.
A noise outside the cave alerted her that someone or something was coming. Surely Andronicus couldn’t have made it to his camp and back in such a short time. She quickly rose, intent on seeking refuge behind the boulder, when a form blocked the light from the cave entrance.
* * *
Andronicus had scrambled down the hillside, his thoughts in chaos. How was he to make good on his promise and get Tapat to safety? Roman troops surrounded the countryside for miles around, and if that weren’t bad enough, beyond them were the mercenaries, paid killers, situated to effectively block the exit of anyone who managed to slip past the Roman forces.
His mind tried and rejected several ideas.
Why, oh why, hadn’t Tapat left the vicinity with the other Christians? Surely her mother would have understood. But then, no one he knew was as fiercely loyal as Tapat. She would gladly die for someone she loved.
That thought brought him up short. Could that have been why she forewarned him of the ambush awaiting him and his men? She cared for him enough to ignore decorum and seek him out where she had no business being seen. He didn’t even want to think what she must have been doing to be privy to the information she had brought him.
He made it back to camp and immediately searched out the men who had gone with him on his scouting expedition. They had become separated in the storm, and he wanted to make certain that they had returned safely before he made preparations to return to Tapat.
One of his centurions was awaiting him at the entrance to his tent, his relief evident when he saw Andronicus.
“Tribune! We were about to send out a search party.”
The centurion followed Andronicus into his tent. Andronicus dropped his helmet, sword and gladius on the mat he used for his bed. He reached for the pitcher of water sitting on the table by his bed and poured some over his head, relieved by the cool moisture. Taking a cup, he splashed water into it and thirstily drank it down.
“Have Arius and the others returned yet?”
“Some have returned. A few are still missing.”
Andronicus jerked around. Although he felt concern for his men, he was more concerned with their discovering Tapat. “How many?”
“Five. Arius is one of them.”
Andronicus felt a sinking sensation in his midsection. Arius was more than one of his soldiers; they had been friends for years.
“Thank you, Nonius. I will see to gathering some men to search.”
“General Titus wished to see you as soon as you returned.”
/> Antonius nodded. After Nonius left his tent he blew out a breath. Now what? More than likely Titus had some job for him to do that, knowing the general, was going to take more time than he had originally anticipated.
Tapat, please have patience and don’t try to leave.
After washing the sand from his body, he picked up his helmet, sword and gladius and made his way to Titus’s tent. He found the young general surrounded by his other tribunes. They turned at his appearance.
“Andronicus.” The general gave a brief jerk of the head in acknowledgment, his searching eyes going slowly over Andronicus. “We were beginning to worry.”
Although younger than Andronicus by six years, Titus was a formidable presence at the age of thirty-one. Many a man had made the mistake of underestimating the general’s youth. He had proved himself campaign after campaign as more than a boy. He was a fierce, intelligent and deadly opponent. There wasn’t a man here who wouldn’t willingly follow him into battle.
“The storm, my lord,” Andronicus answered. “It hit without notice.”
Titus grunted. “This lousy heathen countryside. Give me the green fields of Rome any day.”
There were several murmurs of agreement.
“Now,” Titus declared, turning back to the map spread out on the table. “Let us get down to business.” He glanced up at Andronicus. “You missed all of the action.”
“Sir?”
“While you were gone, those infernal Jews figured out a way to destroy our siege engines and then had the audacity to attack our camp.”
Andronicus wasn’t surprised. These zealots were either very foolish or very determined. They had no compunction about killing even their own people if it suited their purposes. From those Jews they had captured outside the city, they had learned of horrible atrocities being perpetrated upon Jews in the city, who had done nothing to warrant such attacks. The brutality of the Jewish leader, John, was beyond anything Andronicus had ever faced.
“We should bring the full force of our army against them,” Tribune Sestus growled. “If we had done so in the beginning, this war would be over by now. We have the men, so why not use them?”
Beloved Protector (Heartsong Presents) Page 2
