by Carol Ashby
“I still think of him when I hear Lord Jesus’s words. ‘My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand.’
“He also said, ‘For this is the will of My Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in Him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.’”
His gaze was on Sextus, but from the corner of his eye, he saw the mistress draw back.
“For those we love who have gone before us, those whose faith we heard spoken and saw lived, we can be certain we’ll be with them again. It’s like Apostle Paul told us, ‘If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.’”
Sextus released a deep sigh, but it wasn’t a sad one. “I remember the day I stood with Favonia and we made that confession together.” His smile matched the peace in his eyes. He slid his chair back. “Someday the Shepherd will call me home as well, and we’ll be together again.”
Leander startled when Mistress Calantha’s fingers touched his arm. He turned his gaze on her and raised his eyebrows.
“As I’ve been copying what John wrote, I’ve been thinking about everything he said. About all the things you told me before and about what I used to believe. And I’ve made a decision.”
She squared her shoulders, and Leander’s pulse ramped up. He’d taken the arrow so she wouldn’t die unsaved. His blood had bought her time.
“I reject the gods of Rome. They’re only stories, and I want to worship a god who is real. I reject the idea that the emperor can join the gods after he dies. I believe in God the Father, and I believe Jesus is the Son of God. I believe when Pilatus executed Him, He died for all our sins, and after that, the Father raised Him from the dead.”
Her eyes glistened with a brightness Leander had never seen before. Jesus’s blood had just bought her eternity, and Leander’s heart pulsed with joy.
She took a deep breath. “I’m ready to confess and be saved.” Her brow furrowed. “But how do I do that?”
Marcella slipped from her chair and wrapped Mistress Calantha in a motherly hug. “You have to believe Jesus died to save you, confess your sins, and ask forgiveness. Then thank God for making you His child.”
At the word “forgiveness,” Mistress Calantha’s eyes turned to Leander. “I’ve been thinking about what Leander said the first Solis we were here, about how we have to forgive others if we want God to forgive us. I’ve struggled with that. I loved my brother Aulus, and I thought he loved me. But then he did something horrible that would have destroyed my life, something that almost killed Leander. And he did it only because he wanted money. I wanted to see him punished so badly I could taste it. I didn’t want to forgive.
“But Jesus forgave the soldiers who crucified Him. What Aulus did was nothing compared to that. And if he hadn’t done what he did, I wouldn’t be here to learn about Jesus. I would never have known He paid for my sins, and I would never have known God wanted me as His child.”
She closed her eyes. “God, I used to be content to live the Roman way, worshiping false gods, thinking only of myself. Please forgive me for all I did that was wrong. Forgive me for all I didn’t do that I should have. I know Jesus paid for all my sins. Thank You for forgiving me because He did. I’m ready to follow Jesus. Thank you, God, for making me Your child. I’ll try to love You with my whole heart and mind. I’ll try to obey You and love others for the rest of my life.”
And as her smile grew brighter until her face shone, Leander closed his eyes and reveled in the presence of the Spirit as He claimed Mistress Calantha as God’s own.
Chapter 52: What to Believe?
Luna, Day 37
It was mid-morning when the ship arrived in Luna. With Aulus beside him, Marcus fidgeted at the rail as the rowboats pulled them toward the pier. The ginger had stopped the worst of the nausea, but he wouldn’t be entirely free of it until the surface beneath his feet was once more solid ground.
Africanus finished tying the blankets into a bundle and carried it to the rail. He started to lower it to the deck beside Marcus, but he paused with it at knee level. When he straightened and carried it to the far side of Aulus, Marcus’s eyebrows dipped.
“You could have left it beside me. My stomach isn’t that weak.”
Africanus held his mouth straight, but his eyes revealed his true thoughts. “Your stomach is far from the weakest I’ve seen.” His lips tightened as he fought the grin, but his eyes crinkled. When he forced his face to relax and appear serious, his eyes still laughed. “You threw what was in your stomach much farther than most women can.”
Before Marcus could frame a cutting reply, the gladiator turned and walked away to get their small bags of food and personal belongings.
Marcus crossed his arms. While Africanus stoically received the gushing praise of one of the passengers who recognized him, Marcus rehearsed a strong reprimand for forgetting his place. Then Aulus’s hand rested against his shoulder.
“He didn’t mean anything disrespectful by that.” Aulus’s mouth curved into a grin. “And you have to admit, it was funny. We can use it on someone else if we have to take a ship to our first tribune postings. Now that you know to use ginger root, you shouldn’t have a problem yourself.”
Marcus blew his breath out through his nose. “I guess I can let it pass this time.”
With the straps of the bags draped over one shoulder, Africanus returned to scoop up the blankets. “First, we’ll get a room at an inn where I’ve stayed many times with Master Brutus. We can leave all this there. The doors lock, the beds are clean, and the food is good. Then we go to the ludus.”
He inhaled, and his nose scrunched. “There’s a bath just down the street, and the innkeeper will appreciate us visiting it before sleeping in his beds.”
When Africanus took his first step toward the gangplank, Aulus fell in beside him. “If Callidus isn’t here, then what?”
Africanus glanced down at Aulus but kept walking. “We’ll work our way back to Rome. The fight isn’t lost―”
“Until you stop fighting.” Aulus’s frown relaxed. “Since Marcus and I won’t quit until we find her, we’ll have to win in the end.”
Aulus paused at the edge of the gangplank, and Africanus walked ahead with his bulky burden.
Marcus joined Aulus. “You’re right. We won’t quit until Julia is back by your side and Callidus pays for his betrayal.”
He waved his hand for Aulus to go down before him. With Aulus’s back toward him, Marcus’s frown deepened. They would make Callidus tell them where he’d taken Julia, and then he’d have to die before he could tell anyone they hired him in the first place.
The Ludus in Luna
Marcus walked beside Aulus as Africanus led them past the stone amphitheater. No decorative arches or relief sculptures of fighting men and animals made it a pleasure to behold. It was only a functional building where a few thousand could enjoy a day of bloodletting. The ludus was a fortress-like brick building just east of the arena.
No one guarded the door. Once inside, they followed the crack of wooden swords down a hallway to the practice arena. The lanista stood, arms crossed, watching a dozen men striking either wooden stakes or each other.
Aulus tipped his head toward Marcus. “Do you see him?”
“No.” He rolled his eyes. Three and a half days of nausea, and their quarry wasn’t even in Luna.
“This is only part of the men here.” Africanus stepped farther onto the sand. “Salve, Victor.”
The lanista turned, and a gap-toothed grin appeared. “Africanus.” His head tipped to look past Brutus’s gladiator at Marcus and Aulus. “If thos
e two weren’t in purple stripes, I’d say Brutus’s standards have dropped for new fighters. I might have one or two that would interest him this time.”
“We’re looking for one in particular. He would have just come from Rome. Ex-legionary looking for a contract.”
Victor’s grin relaxed into a friendly smile. “And I might just have what you’re looking for. I made a contract with such a man two days ago.”
Africanus swept his hand toward Aulus. “We’re not in the market today, but these two would like to talk with him.”
Victor pointed at a hallway beside the armor room. “Down there with the weightlifters. His contract is for sale if Brutus wants him, but talk is free.”
Africanus flicked his hand to summon Marcus and headed down the hallway.
Marcus’s stomach tightened as they walked past a row of small cells, mostly empty. But one held a man lying on a cot, arm draped across his forehead, with each breath ending in a soft moan.
And as they stepped into the light of the next arena, Marcus released a sigh. There, with a yoke bearing buckets of sand draped across his shoulders, stood Callidus. Africanus waved Marcus and Aulus forward and stepped back behind them.
“Callidus.” Marcus used his lowest voice.
The ex-legionary’s eyes saucered. His gaze bounced between Marcus and the doorway. Africanus moved to block the exit. With spread legs and crossed arms, his face hardened into warrior coldness. “First, he wants to talk to you. Depending on what you say, it might stop there.”
Callidus swallowed hard, then nodded. “Let’s talk.”
Marcus tipped his head toward a corner away from the other gladiators. “Over there.”
When Callidus reached the corner, Marcus, Aulus, and Africanus fanned out in front of him.
“You didn’t come to meet me.” Marcus raked him with his fiercest glare. “We found the dead escort. What did you do with Julia?”
Callidus raised both hands. “I didn’t do anything with her. One of the litter slaves took her.”
With arms crossed, Marcus shifted his frown toward a scowl. “Tell us exactly what happened. No lies.”
“I did exactly what you told me. I waited at the house until that morning when the girl came in her litter. The old man told her bearers to leave, that her friend would get her home. She followed me into the house, the escort, too. Then out of nowhere, one of your litter slaves jumped him and killed him. Broke his neck. Then he came after her. I fought him, but he knocked me down, almost knocked me out.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I tried to follow. I even asked another man to help me chase them. Your slave dragged her through a passageway into the next street over. We went up and down asking if anyone saw where they went. A shoemaker said they went through another passage into the next street. We searched that street, too, and never found a trace.”
His gaze bounced from Marcus to Aulus and back. “She seemed to go with him willingly. Maybe they’re living together somewhere because they fancied each other.”
An energetic headshake accompanied Aulus’s frown. “Julia would never do something like that to bring disgrace on Father. She’s a proper Roman maiden. She wouldn’t run off with a slave even if Father didn’t care.”
Marcus lowered his eyebrows. “If that’s what happened, why didn’t you come tell me right away? When it would have been easier to find them. You knew I’d come to the taberna to pay you.”
Callidus scraped his lower lip with his teeth. “I didn’t complete the job, so I didn’t earn the money. I’m an honest man.” His hand headed toward the back of his neck, but he stopped it and dropped it to his side. “Besides, I was afraid you’d think I was in on it with that slave.”
Aulus’s forehead furrowed. “Tribune Titianus said you ate with a man at a taberna near the house. You talked for a long time. Who was he?”
“Ate with someone?” His eyes scrunched. “Oh, yes. I was eating, and an old friend from childhood just happened to come eat there, too. We only talked a while about old times.”
Africanus took a step toward Callidus, frowning. “Your friend’s name?”
Callidus ran his tongue over his teeth. “I don’t remember.”
The gladiator moved one step closer. “How could you talk about old times with a friend without knowing his name?”
“A man’s memory is a funny thing sometimes.” He shrugged.
Africanus’s head tilted before he crossed his arms. “It would be good to get your memory working without having to talk with the tribune of the Urban Cohort. You signed into a ludus. That makes you a slave until your contract is fulfilled.” He tilted his head more. “You do know slaves are questioned with torture?”
The blood drained from Callidus’s face. “I think his name was Gaius something.” He rubbed his mouth. “I can’t remember the last name.”
Africanus’s head pulled back. “One Roman in five is Gaius something. You can do better than that.”
Callidus’s eyes darted between the three of them. “I think maybe it was Bassus.”
“Are you sure the first name was Gaius?” Africanus made a cutting motion across his throat with his hand. “Tribune Titianus has the eyes of a lion, and he’s hungry for a kill since it’s the daughter of a consul who’s missing.”
Callidus’s eyes saucered. “Now that I think harder, it might have been Gnaeus.”
Africanus squinted one eye. “You’re a trained warrior, and you expect us to believe a litter slave beat you in a fight?”
“He took me by surprise. He knocked me down before I realized what he was planning.”
“He had time to kill the escort. That took long enough for you to expect his attack.” Africanus shook his head.
Marcus held up his hand to silence Africanus. “What the slave did to him doesn’t matter.” He turned an icy stare back on Callidus. “All that matters is that you tell us enough for us to find Julia. The passageway they went down. How far from the house was that? Left or right from the gate?”
“Right as you walk toward it, and maybe a thousand feet.”
Aulus nudged Marcus. “Where we found the litter.” His face turned grim. “The blood in the atrium.” He took a deep breath. “Whose was it?”
“Mine.” Callidus rubbed his nose. “He hit hard.”
“Did he hurt her?” Worry colored Aulus’s voice.
“Not that I saw. Like I said, she seemed to want to go with him.”
“Why would she want to go with a man who’d just killed her escort?” A thick layer of doubt coated Africanus’s words.
“Maybe she fancies red-haired men. Maybe they planned to run off, and the escort just got in the way.”
Marcus held up his hand to Africanus before focusing again on Callidus. “Is there anything else you can think of to help us find her?”
“No. All I know is her slave took her with him, and they disappeared before I could get her back. It’s been twenty-five years since I lived in Rome. I have no idea where they might be hiding.”
With his eyes focused on Callidus’s face, Marcus rubbed his lip. The old soldier hadn’t told the full truth, but he believed the Secundus slave had taken Julia. Her other litter bearers told Titianus the same slave was one of the kidnappers. It might be a web of lies, but it would be enough to keep Titianus from discovering Marcus’s own role in it. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to arrange Callidus’s death after all. Four years in the arena was likely to take care of that for him.
“It would have been better if you’d come to tell me this right away instead of waiting for us to hunt you down. But knowing she’s with that slave should help us find her.” Marcus summoned a fake smile. “Vale, Callidus. May Fortuna smile upon you with victories.”
As he walked away, Aulus stepped up beside him. “Except for the part about Julia wanting to live with her litter slave, do you believe him?”
“Yes. He has no reason to lie to us.”
They ente
red the hallway and once more passed the moaning gladiator. Too bad it wasn’t Callidus.
As they cut through the practice arena on their way to the exit, Africanus detoured to the lanista’s side.
The lanista turned from the fighting pair. “Did you hear what you needed?”
“He told us enough for now.” Africanus’s eyebrows dipped. “But don’t sell his contract for a few months.”
“Brutus might want him?”
“Master Brutus decides what he wants when he sees it. After you’ve trained Callidus for a while, if you think he might be good enough for Rome, let us know. Then…maybe.”
The lanista turned back to his fighters, and Marcus led them to the exit.
When they reached the street, Marcus leaned against the sun-warmed wall. “It was a long hunt, but we finally learned what we need. Now back to Rome.”
Africanus’s brow furrowed. “I don’t believe him. If that had really happened, Callidus would have met you and told you what Julia and her slave had done. If Callidus never held her captive, he never broke Roman law. There was no reason for him to run. You should tell the tribune we found Callidus and let Titianus get the truth out of him.”
“Well, I do believe him.” Marcus’s lips tightened. “He was afraid no one would believe him, and that’s reason enough to run. I don’t want Titianus to get his hands on him when Callidus hasn’t done anything that would hurt Julia.”
Aulus’s eyes flipped between the two of them. “I can’t imagine Julia taking up with a slave, but he did disappear, and he could be holding her somewhere.”
“How long had you owned the slave?” Africanus crossed his arms.
“About a month.”
“Was he from Rome?”
“I don’t think so. He’d been a farm slave working with chariot horses for several years. We bought him for the stable to get my stallion trained for riding. I think he’d been taken in the Dacian war.”
Africanus shook his head. “Farm slaves don’t leave the farm to make friends. It’s chains during the day and the ergastulum at night for most of them. How could a man with no money or local friends find a place to hide and keep her prisoner without anyone reporting him?”