by Carol Ashby
Secrecy was vital, but she could trust Malleolus to keep everything secret. Even though Lucius Fidelis was now the head of the Claudius Drusus family, the old steward’s loyalty still belonged to Publius, even eight years after his death. Saving Publius’s granddaughter was something he’d be eager to do.
Breakfast was over, and Aristarchus and Helena walked Hector to the stable. It was a four-hour ride from Aristarchus’s house near the eastern edge of Rome back to the ship in Portus. In a few days, Hector would sail back to Thracia, where he would spend the four months that the sea was closed due to winter storms at his farm near Perinthus.
Aristarchus expected his captain of the Claudia to dine with them and spend the night whenever he brought the ship to Rome. Hector was, without doubt, the most deserving young man he had ever bought and freed. He had served in the family’s merchant fleet for twenty five years, first as a slave, then as a freedman whose maritime skills had elevated him to the rank of captain. He was loyal and honest to a fault, and he had been the best friend of Aristarchus’s youngest son, Philip, since they worked together one summer fifteen years ago.
Each time Hector had visited that shipping season, Aristarchus saw the dark shadow enveloping him. He was worried about his captain, who was more son than employee. It had been hard for Hector since his wife and daughter died just before he reached home last fall. The deep grief had a grip on him that he could not shake. His smiles were sad, and his eyes seemed weary. He was barely forty, but his sorrow made him seem much older this visit.
Helena, Aristarchus’s wife of over forty years, wrapped her arm around Hector’s as they walked him to the horse he had rented for the ride from the coast.
“I’m so glad you came up to see us. We love having you here.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed his bearded cheek. “You’re my sixth son. I’ll be praying for you until I see you again.”
Hector smiled in response, but there was no joy in his eyes. “God truly blessed me with both of you.”
Aristarchus wrapped his arms around Hector in a crushing hug and slapped his arm when he let go. “May God be with you on your voyage and bring you happiness again.”
“And may He continue to bless you both with a long life together.”
The tightness at the corner of his smile and the two quick blinks that stopped any tears betrayed Hector’s longing for the years with Damara that would never be.
Hector mounted and waved before kicking the horse into a trot and heading down the street. Helena wrapped her arm around Aristarchus’s and leaned her head against his shoulder as she watched Hector ride away.
“It breaks my heart to see him suffering so. I don’t know if it’s Damara or Charissa he’s missing more. To lose them both at once...” She sighed. “He has so much love to give, and he needs someone to give it to. He needs another woman who’ll love him with her whole heart and a child he can give the love he would have given Charissa. A dead child can never be replaced, but another child can begin to fill the void. He needs to remarry and have more children.”
Aristarchus shook his head as his mouth turned down. “That is not so easy for a man who has known the joy of having the perfect wife. I am not sure I could remarry if you died.”
She slapped his arm before she hugged it. “Don’t say that. I would want you to remarry and find happiness again, God willing. I’m going to be praying for that for Hector. I’m going to ask God to bring a woman to heal his heart before we see him again next spring.”
Aristarchus smiled down at the sweet, godly woman who had graced his life for so long. She might think a man can just remarry to replace a lost love, but some women were irreplaceable. He would know. He was married to one.
Chapter 3: The Perfect Ally
Early the next morning, Malleolus rode up to the stable at the eastern estate. It wasn’t so easy to ride anymore. These days, his knees told him how far the ride from the town house was. It might not be long before he would need to take a litter in the daytime or drive the two-wheeled cisium when the ban on wagons on the streets of Rome ended at dusk. That would be a sad day. He was still a man of thirty from the inside looking out, but riding reminded him that the wrinkled old man in the mirror with the fringe of silver hair was him and not his father.
Although he came every week, he never found much needing his attention. Cornelia ran the estate herself better than the overseers at the other Drusus estates. The main reason he came was to visit with Cornelia and Drusilla. Cornelia had become a dear friend in the eight years since Publius’s murder, and Drusilla loved him like a grandfather. It felt good to spend a few hours with people who were just like family. He had none of his own.
After he dismounted, he placed his hands on his knees and bent forward to limber up for walking. He flexed his rein fingers a few times. Too bad there wasn’t axle grease for the joints of a man nearing seventy.
The stable slave bowed as he took the reins. “Mistress Cornelia said you were to come to her in the garden the moment you arrived.”
Malleolus’s face remained impassive when he heard the command, but he was concerned. He’d never been met with such a message before. He arched his back to loosen a few more muscles and walked as fast as was almost comfortable to find his mistress and friend.
When she saw him walk through the archway, Cornelia rose and held both hands out to him. “I’m glad you came early today. I have something important to ask of you, and it’s vital that you start on it as soon as possible.”
Malleolus’s gaze swept the garden near them to see if any ears were listening.
Cornelia followed his gaze. “I’ve already given orders that no one is to come into this part of the garden until I say. I’ve been watching, and no one is here. Our conversation needs to be totally private. Drusilla’s life depends on it.”
Malleolus was a difficult man to upset, and he was a master at concealing his thoughts even when he was. Her words broke through his unflappable demeanor, and his eyebrows rose.
“Drusilla’s life? What’s going on?”
“That loathsome husband of mine is planning to betroth her to Gnaeus Corvinus. I’m sure you’ve heard all the rumors about the boy. I know at least some of the worst of them are true. We can’t let that betrothal happen.”
His brows dipped downward as he tightened his lips. “No, we can’t.”
She sat back down and patted the bench so he would sit down next to her.
“I’ve decided to divorce him and take her away from Rome before he commits her to that marriage. I need my dowry money as soon as possible, and I need your help in getting it without him knowing I’m getting ready to leave.”
Malleolus cupped his chin in his hand and stroked his cheek with his thumb. “Normally it would take some time to get you that much money, but as luck would have it, I can do it as soon as this afternoon. I was about to buy two estates ten miles up the Via Aurelia to make one large one. I’ve already arranged to have more than enough gold at my disposal to make the purchases. I only need to have most of it delivered here instead.” One corner of his mouth rose in a wry smile. “Lucius is required by law to return your entire dowry immediately when you divorce him. I guess he’ll have to wait to get his new estate northwest of Rome.”
She leaned over and embraced him. “I knew you’d be able to help.” The smile that had appeared at the news of the gold dimmed. “The next part might be harder, and I’m not sure how to go about doing it.” She scanned the garden to make doubly certain no one was listening. “I’m planning to go to Thracia where Titus and Claudia are living. I’m sure they’ll be glad to let me stay with them for a short time while I find an estate of my own to buy where no one will recognize us.”
Her brow furrowed. “I want to go by sea, but I’m not sure how to arrange everything. You’ve shipped things all over the empire. Can you find a good ship for us without Lucius suspecting anything before we sail?”
He cupped his chin and stroked his chee
k again. “If he’s still living in Rome, I know exactly the man to ask to help with this.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “The same man helped me sneak Claudia out from under Lucius’s nose eight years ago. Actually, help isn’t the right word. He did everything. Publius called him a good friend, and he couldn’t have been a better one. I think he’ll be just as willing to help save Publius’s granddaughter.”
He rose. “I’ll go now to see if he can help. When I return, we can make final plans.”
I’d Love to Hear from You!
I’d love to hear what you think of The Legacy!
If you enjoyed this book, I would really appreciate it if you would post a review at the retailer you purchased it from. A good review is like a jewel set in gold for an author. I’d love to hear from you.
What does the future hold for Lucius Fidelis and his family?
Lucius Fidelis got his father executed so he could take control of his own life and the family fortune. At the time of The Legacy, his sons, Lucius, Marcus, and Tertius, are sixteen, fourteen, and ten, and his daughter Drusilla is two. Lucius and Marcus are old enough to understand what their father has done, and the consequences play out eight years in the future in Forgiven. Lucius Fidelis will also return in 2018 in Second Chances. But I haven’t yet decided what Fidelis’s ultimate end will be. Will he continue on his present path, or choose a different way? I’d love to hear your thoughts about that. Please go to Contact Carol at carol-ashby.com (my blog) or carolashby.com (my Roman history site) and share your thoughts in the comment box. I hope I hear from you!
Interested in the next stories in the Light in the Empire series?
You can sign up for my newsletter at carol-ashby.com for advance notices of upcoming releases and other info about my latest writing adventures. I hope you will!
Historical Note
Paterfamilias: The Absolute Power of the Roman Patriarch
Honor your father and mother. When God delivered His Ten Commandments to the people of Israel through Moses, this was the only one that included a promise: “Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the LORD your God is giving you.” Exodus 20:12 (ESV)
Respect and affection within an extended family certainly contribute to an enjoyable life. But “honor” does not mean “obey absolutely.” While a Jewish father might expect a lifetime of respect from his children, he did not exercise total control once his sons and daughters were grown.
For Roman citizens, the expectations of a father were quite different. The oldest surviving male was the paterfamilias, the legal head of the family that might include several generations. The power of a Roman patriarch was absolute within the family for as long as he lived. Under Roman law, the oldest male owned all the property and could dictate everything his sons could do, no matter how old they might be. Only a father’s death gave true independence to a son.
A man in his sixties might have sons in their forties and grown grandsons in their twenties, but those grown children were still under his control as if they were young children. All property belonged to the paterfamilias. Grown sons lived on an allowance, and any material goods they gained belonged to the paterfamilias, not them. The “family” over which he ruled included his sons and daughters (married or not), his sons’ offspring, and any slaves he owned. A wife remained under the authority of her own paterfamilias as long as he lived. Since any offspring belonged to a husband’s paterfamilias, a mother had no rights to her own children. If her husband died, she might be kept from ever seeing her children again if the paterfamilias chose to exclude her.
While a son gained independence upon his father’s death, a daughter did not. She came under the guardianship of another male relative, who was himself a paterfamilias. She could petition a judge (praetor) to have an alternative guardian appointed if the current one was unsuitable, but she was required to have one. The Emperor Augustus wanted to encourage the upper classes to have more children, so he introduced a law where a married woman would no longer need a guardian if she had borne three or more children.
The paterfamilias could tell his children what they could and could not do, and they had to abide by his rules. When a baby was born to anyone in the family, he made the decision about whether the child would live or die. If he refused to take the child when it was offered to him, the baby was abandoned to die, usually in a public place. Anyone could pick up such abandoned children and raise them, either to be their own child or, more commonly, to be a slave. During the Republic, the paterfamilias also had the right to kill his adult child without any legal penalty. Even in the early Empire, that right remained, although it was not practiced and would have been generally condemned if it were.
One can well imagine the friction that could arise when grown men, married with children of their own, had to subordinate their own desires to the will of the patriarch. The temptation to do whatever it took to break free of that control must have been great at times. Perhaps that contributed to the Roman attitude toward killing a parent and the severity of the punishment for murdering one’s father.
Patricide was considered one of the most heinous crimes, and a unique punishment for the crime was practiced. Following a flogging, the murderer was sewn into a leather sack with a snake, a dog, a monkey, and a rooster. If in Rome, he was then thrown into the Tiber River to drown or suffocate, if the bag was sufficiently water-tight. If not in Rome, another river, a lake, or the ocean could be used.
In The Legacy, Publius is the paterfamilias of the Claudius Drusus family. When he becomes a God-fearer, he adopts many of the Jewish laws for living. He commands his oldest son Lucius to give up his womanizing ways and be a faithful husband, as required by Mosaic law. Lucius wants Publius dead so he can become the paterfamilias himself and resume his licentious lifestyle. Although he is unwilling to risk the consequences of murdering his father, Lucius leaps at the chance to get his father executed for treason when Publius becomes a Christian.
For more about life in the Roman Empire at its peak, please go to carolashby.com.
Discussion Guide
1) Publius was offered the chance to save his own life by rejecting his Christian faith and offering a sacrifice to the emperor. He chose to remain loyal to Jesus, even though it meant leaving his precious daughter in the hands of the son who betrayed him. Have you or someone you know ever been faced with the choice between loyalty to a beloved family member or loyalty to Jesus?
2) Lucius betrayed his own father to the authorities, knowing it would lead to his father’s death. Why did he do that? When Publius learned his own son wanted him dead, how did he respond? Do you think you could have responded as Publius did?
3) Claudia was devastated by the loss of her father, and that was made worse by feelings of guilt because she unwittingly gave her brother what he needed to destroy their father. She was consumed with hatred for her brother, who was guilty, and for her father’s Christian friends, who weren’t. Have you ever seen someone direct their hatred toward someone who wasn’t to blame? Was there anything you could have done to help?
4) Philip’s disfiguring scars had led him to believe no woman could love him, but he finds that isn’t true when Claudia loves him for the man he is behind the ugly exterior. In Claudia, Philip finds the desire of his heart, but he’s willing to sacrifice satisfying that desire if it means not living up to God’s standards for a leader in the church. Have you or anyone you know ever been faced with a similar choice?
5) Titus loved his father and sister, and Lucius’s betrayal of them both spawned hatred and a burning desire for vengeance. He has no desire to forgive anything. What does that do to him?
6) Miriam experienced both brutality and kindness during her life as a slave in Roman times, when slaves were legally classified as “mortal things” or “voiced implements.” How did her faith help her live her difficult life as a slave? Are there parallels today?
7) Publius wrote a letter to Titus to share
what he considered the most important thing in his life, the faith he was willing to die for. Have you ever faced the problem of sharing your faith with someone you love but no longer have regular contact with? What did you do?
8) Miriam’s sacrificial love played a large role in Titus opening his heart to God. Her faithful love with no expectation of it being returned also played a role in Titus opening his heart toward her. Have you ever seen the same in your own experience?
9) At the end of the novel, Claudia and Titus decide to forgive Lucius, just as their father had. How do you think Lucius will respond to Titus’s message that they have forgiven him? Have you ever offered forgiveness to someone who refuses to believe or accept it? What did you do then?
10) The Legacy is a story of the power of love to open two hearts hardened by hatred of someone who destroyed a person they loved. What touched you most? What made you think about what your own choices would be?
What does the future hold for Lucius Fidelis and his family?
Lucius Fidelis got his father executed so he could take control of his own life and the family fortune. At the time of The Legacy, his sons, Lucius, Marcus, and Tertius, are sixteen, fourteen, and ten, and his daughter Drusilla is two. Lucius and Marcus are old enough to understand what their father has done, and the consequences play out eight years in the future in Forgiven. Lucius Fidelis will also return in 2018 in Second Chances. But I haven’t yet decided what Fidelis’s ultimate end will be. Will he continue on his present path, or choose a different way? I’d love to hear your thoughts about that. Please go to Contact Carol at carol-ashby.com (my blog) or carolashby.com (my Roman history site) and share your thoughts in the comment box. I hope I hear from you!