The Legacy

by Carol Ashby

  She touched his cheek again, and this time he didn’t jump as she drew her fingers slowly over the ridges. He’d been wrong about the lack of feeling. Somehow her fingertips created tingling sensations unlike anything he’d felt before. She traced one of the swirls with her middle finger.

  “You know, the scars don’t make your face so terribly ugly, just rather...interesting. Hills and mountains are much more interesting than plains.”

  Her caressing fingertips heated his blood, and her words filled his heart with a lightness he’d never felt before. He had no idea how to answer, so he flipped it into a joke.

  “That sounds like the inspiration for a poem. ‘His cheek was like a mountain range, hers like the crystal sea…’”

  He rubbed the stubble of the unshaven beard on his unscarred cheek. “Maybe you can add something about how the forest doesn’t grow there.”

  Her eyes sparkled with delight as she burst out laughing. “You’re a brilliant general, but I’m not sure you’ll ever be a great poet.”

  “Then let’s play some Conquest and give me a chance to achieve greatness in your eyes.”

  “You’ve already done that, even if I beat you this time.”

  Her eyes were still laughing as he rose to get the game. As he walked away from her, a beaming smile broke free. Maybe his face could bring a look of joy, not pity, to the right woman’s eyes.

  The lions still came every night, but it was bearable because of Philip. Every night Claudia went to him, and she could always go back to sleep quickly as long as she was holding his hand and listening to his deep voice as he read. She wasn’t tired during the day anymore, but she still had Philip read her to sleep almost every afternoon.

  It wasn’t the sleep that she wanted so badly. It was the gentle touch of his fingers on her face and that wonderful smile as he looked down at her lying in his lap. They had long since finished the scroll about India, and now he was reading her one about travelling up the Nile.

  She fluffed the pillow before laying it in his lap. As she lowered her head onto it, the happy gleam in his eye as he gazed down at her made her heart beat a little faster. Nothing could be better than his touch and his smile.

  Philip started to massage her temple and read. “‘There are hidden dangers in the river. Crocodiles line the banks, waiting for unsuspecting prey. Equally dangerous is the mighty hippopotamus. His great gaping mouth…’”

  As he paused to unroll the next panel of words, he glanced down at her face. Her eyes had been closed when he started, but they were open and watching him now.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Her eyes warmed as her lips curved into a contented smile.

  That pulled a smile from him. “Don’t look at me. You’re supposed to close your eyes and go to sleep.”

  “But I like looking at you.”

  His heart skipped a beat as his smile broadened. No one, not even his mother, had ever said that, although Mother had often told him he looked just fine. He never believed her. Mothers were known to tell their children things that weren’t true out of love.

  “Maybe so, but you still need to close your eyes if you’re going to sleep.”

  “Whatever you say, Philip.” She closed her eyes, and he resumed reading.

  As he shifted to the next panel, he glanced down at her. She was looking at him again and smiling. She closed her eyes when she saw that he’d caught her watching him.

  He kept reading and didn’t say anything to her, but sheer joy pulsed through him. The impossible had happened. The blonde-haired beauty he loved to look at liked to look at him, too.

  Chapter 34: No Man is Worth More

  It was nearing the end of the good sailing season as they began the last leg of the voyage between Thessalonica and Perinthus, so it was not surprising when a storm blew up. Although the winds were not exceptionally high, they were blowing hard enough from the north that Hector decided to furl the sails on the main mast, trim the sail on the foremast, and lower the sea anchor to keep from being blown too far off his intended course.

  It had been raining, so Claudia, Penelope, and Junia were sitting in Penelope’s room out of the wind and wet.

  Penelope opened the shutters a crack to peek out. “I really don’t like it when the wind blows like this. My brothers still tease me about how I hid under the bunk the first time I was in a storm. I don’t think they should. I was only ten at the time.”

  Claudia smiled at the image. “I’m sure Philip didn’t laugh at you.”

  “He laughed the hardest. He’d been in a couple of really bad storms the summer before when he worked as a sailor. He actually likes it when the rain falls hard and the wind blows and there are flashes of lightening. He says he likes seeing the power of...well, he just likes it.”

  “The power of Jupiter? I’m sure he’s joking about that.” Claudia looked through the crack, too. “I hope he’s being careful out there. I’d much rather he be in here with us.”

  “He’d never let his crew be out in the weather while he stayed inside. Besides, you never know when they might need an extra hand on deck, and he really does love being part of the crew.”

  When they heard the scream, Claudia was the first one to the small window in the galley that looked out over the deck. What she saw horrified her. A crewman had been walking along the yard on the main mast to get into position for lashing the square mainsail to the yard while others manned the lines on deck to furl the sail. Other times, she’d found it fascinating to watch a sailor scampering around up there as if he were on solid ground.

  She usually enjoyed the sound of the wind flapping the sails, but a sudden strong gust must have slapped one of the triangular topsails into the crewman and caused him to lose his footing. Now he hung from the yard with his foot entangled in the lashing cordage. His leg was bent at a funny angle. With his broken leg, he couldn’t raise himself back to the yard.

  Claudia gasped and covered her eyes with her hands. “I can’t watch. He’ll die when he falls.”

  Penelope stood next to her, peering out through the rain. “He won’t fall. Philip’s going up to get him.”

  Claudia’s fear as she watched the sailor twisting in the wind was nothing compared to the panic that gripped her as she watched Philip climb the mast with a coil of rope draped across his chest. When he reached the yard, he walked out to where the sailor was dangling. He tied the rope first to the yard, then wrapped it around his waist and chest, looping it down around his legs to make a harness. She almost screamed as he deliberately slipped off the yard to hang just below the injured man. Then he began pulling himself up hand over hand until the man could wrap his arms around Philip’s neck.

  She held her breath as Philip continued to pull both himself and the sailor back up the rope. When they reached the yard, the sailor managed to pull himself up to sit precariously on the wet wood. Philip hoisted himself up and straddled the yard while he untied the rope from it. He unwrapped his makeshift harness and reformed it around the sailor.

  Then he wrapped the rope once around the yard and threw the end down to Hector on the deck below. Three crewmen grasped the rope. After the injured sailor slid off the yard, they lowered him to the deck. A cheer rose from the crew, and two men carried him forward to the crew cabin where his leg could be set.

  Philip remained aloft, waiting for the sail to be drawn up so he could finish lashing it in place. When that task was completed, he descended to the deck. The two triangular topsails were lowered, and the work at the main mast was finished. Claudia thought he was coming to them in the cabin, but he walked past with three of the crew, heading to the stern where they lowered the sea anchor into the water. Finally, he entered the cabin, soaked to the skin with water trickling out of his hair.

  As Claudia stepped toward him, he shook his head like a dog, splattering her with water. Then he grinned at her. “It’s a little damp out there.”

  She threw her arms aro
und him and clung to him. “I was so afraid for you up there. You might have been killed.”

  Philip laughed at her. “I know what I’m doing aloft, Claudia. There was nothing for you to worry about. This storm is nothing unusual. My ship has no trouble weathering much worse.”

  “But you shouldn’t have risked yourself when your slaves can do the work. Why couldn’t Hector or one of the other men have gone up to save him?”

  Her arms were still wrapped around him, but he tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. His look was stern.

  “No man’s life is worth more than any other man’s, Claudia. You should know that. I was the one with the strength and skill to be able to rescue Primus. Of course I would be the one to do it. I was in less danger getting Primus down than I was getting you away from Lucius. I would have ended up in the arena for kidnapping you if he’d caught us.”

  Her eyes saucered, and she fought the start of tears. It was the first time he’d ever spoken sharply to her.

  He smiled to soften his rebuke. “Besides, my crewmen aren’t slaves. They’ve all worked long enough for me to earn their freedom, and now they share in a portion of the profit as their wages.”

  She was stunned. The way he treated his slaves was even more generous than anything her father had ever done. Father had always treated his slaves well, but Malleolus was the only slave he’d actually freed.

  Philip pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m soaking wet, and you got yourself all wet just hugging me. Let’s both get into something dry, and then we can play some Conquest or read together while we wait for the rain to stop. I don’t expect this rain to last until nightfall. If it clears in time, we should have a beautiful sunset.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  Any idea that kept him inside with her, away from the danger, would be wonderful. She couldn’t bear it if he were to die.

  They’d played three games of Conquest and read the better part of the poetry codex they both liked best before the rain turned to a sprinkle and then stopped. The wind had died down enough to let Hector put the ship under sail again. She would have preferred that Philip not help with that, but with Primus unable to work with his broken leg, she wasn’t surprised when he joined the crew until the sea anchor was stowed and the wind was in the sails again. She knew better than to say something to try to stop him.

  Philip rejoined the women in the cabin. “Someone still needs to unlash the chairs and reset the canopy before dinner. Looks like you’ll be inside for a while longer.”

  Claudia’s lips curved into a teasing smile. She placed her hand on his arm. “Long enough for another game of Conquest? Unless you’re afraid I’ll beat you again.”

  He chuckled. “You certainly know how to make me an offer I can’t resist.”

  She took his hand and led him back into her room, where they set up the board on her bed.

  The first game went quicker than normal, and she smiled triumphantly as she took his last remaining fortress.

  “If your brother is as good at strategy as you are, I would hate to face him in battle.”

  Philip bowed his head and extended his arms toward her, wrists together, as if to surrender.

  “I yield to your superior skill, general.”

  When he tipped his head up and offered an impish grin, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, Philip. You’re so different from other men.”

  “How so, great general?”

  “You make me feel like I’m actually somebody.”

  He tipped his head sideways, his one bushy eyebrow raised. She almost laughed again at how funny he looked.

  “But you are somebody―one of the few somebodies who can beat me at this game.”

  “Most men look at me like I’m something, not somebody. It’s like I’m just a statue to be admired and possessed.”

  “Then most men are fools.”

  She was startled by the serious tone of his voice and an intense look in his eye that she’d never seen before. Then the twinkle reappeared, accompanied by a crooked grin.

  “But they are right that you’re very easy on the eyes.”

  He began placing the pieces back on the board.

  “You have to give me a chance to regain my honor. Best two out of three. Loser goes first.”

  She watched him make the first move. It was good he lived in Perinthus. How could she ever bear having him disappear from her life when the ship reached port? In fact, the more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to be with him for the rest of their lives. Somehow, she had to get him to ask her to be his wife.

  Chapter 35: Last Day at Sea

  Before this trip, Philip was always glad when the harbor at Perinthus came into view at the end of a voyage. This time was different. He would no longer spend every day with the first woman who looked at him and saw a dear friend who cared about her, not a rich man with ugly scars. He’d never expected to meet a woman who could write elegant poetry and beat him at Conquest, a woman who found his scars ‘interesting’ and not just ugly, a woman who told him that she liked looking at him and that he made her feel like somebody when no other man ever had.

  The depth of her grief revealed a heart capable of true devotion to someone she loved. She was still haunted by her father’s death, but Philip had helped her find pleasure in life again. She cared deeply for him as a friend; there were plenty of signs she might love him as a man. If she were a Christian, he would ask her brother for her hand in marriage within the week, and he would gladly pay any bride price Titus asked.

  But she wasn’t. She still blamed the followers of Jesus for leading her father to his death, and she wasn’t ready to forgive. She wasn’t ready to listen to why her father had chosen to follow Jesus and why she should follow Him, too. Philip couldn’t share with her the most important part of his life.

  He loved Claudia as a friend. He was in love with her as a woman, but until she followed Jesus, he could never ask her to be his wife.

  Claudia stood at the rail, looking down the shoreline of Thracia, watching for the first sign of Perinthus. It had been a long voyage, but it hadn’t been long enough. She was eager to see Titus, but...

  She turned to look for Philip. She found him standing atop the cabin, talking with Hector. For the first time since she’d met him, he was dressed like the merchant prince he was. She’d grown so accustomed to seeing him in a short beige tunic like the rest of his crew that there was something surreal about him wearing long robes of rich, colorful fabric.

  His blind side was toward her, and she could see all his scars. He was the ugliest man she’d ever seen, but he was also the most wonderful person she’d ever known. It was funny how she’d grown to like looking at the ridges and swirls of his scars. She liked touching them even more. There wasn’t another face in the world she’d rather have smiling at her.

  The thought of not spending most of her time in his company tore at her. How was she going to get through each day without him to read her to sleep after the horror of her nightmares or distract her from her grief with a few rounds of Conquest?

  At least he lived in Perinthus, and she would be staying with Penelope and him for a few days until Titus got everything arranged. After that, she would have to learn to live without him near her all the time.

  But she didn’t want to...ever.

  What if he didn’t want her as much as she wanted him? What if he was content to have her move in with Titus and never see her again? As that thought wormed its way into her mind, the tears starting to pool in her eyes.

  Philip felt Claudia’s gaze upon him. When he turned, her face had blanched with the stricken look that preceded a flood of tears.

  “We’ll discuss that later, Hector. I’m needed on deck.”

  Philip climbed down and walked over to stand beside her at the railing. The tears hadn’t started yet. He had time to divert her thoughts before they did.

  “We have a little mor
e than half a day before we reach port.” His smile teased. “Will you give a general one more chance to conquer? He might need two or three tries if you’re really on your game today.”

  She flashed him a smile before she took his hand and led him toward the cabin. “Let’s get the board, and we’ll see if it’s Greece or Rome that wins today. Best two out of three to decide the fate of the Empire.”

  They settled in under the canopy. She won the first game and was well on the way to winning the second.

  “Philip?”

  “Yes?”

  “Promise me you’ll come visit me.”

  “Of course. Penelope will insist on it.”

  “Often?”

  “As often as you want.”

  Her face brightened at his answer.

  He longed to ask her to never leave him so he wouldn’t have to visit, but that was something he couldn’t do as long as she still hated Christians...like him.

  She won the second easily. His mind was not in the game. He was too distracted by the thought of her no longer being with him every day. He needed to focus, or she’d be asking him what was wrong. He didn’t want to speak it aloud. The thought must be distressing to both of them.

  “I’m not ready to concede your superiority today.” He raised his eyebrow and tilted his head as his crooked grin teased her. “Best three out of five?”

  Her eyes sparkled as she smiled back. “Very well. I’d like another chance to conquer you.”

  As he set up the board for the next game, he suppressed a sigh. She hadn’t only conquered his armies in the game; she’d conquered his heart. How much he wanted to tell her and ask if she could love him, too. But until Jesus conquered her heart as well, that could never be.

  Penelope and Junia were standing together at the railing, pointing out interesting sights to each other as the ship moved into the harbor at Perinthus. Claudia stood slightly apart, and the closer they got to the wharf, the paler she became.