True Freedom

by Carol Ashby

  Calantha watched the moonlight play on the angles of Leander’s face and fought a sigh. What she’d seen too often had just happened again.

  A week of watching sunsets had given her plenty of time to watch him, but she was no closer to knowing whether Petronia was right. Sometimes Gaius and Marcella joined them. They would start the conversation, and it was as if the four of them had known each other all their lives. Leander smiled at Marcella’s stories, chuckled at Gaius’s jokes, and talked as much as Gaius about horses and mules and chickens and grapevines and all the things that seemed to fascinate men.

  But when it was just the two of them, he responded when she spoke to him, but he was content to watch the clouds fade and stars appear in silence.

  He sat on the bench beside her without being reminded, but always on the edge, and if she slid too close, she felt him tense.

  But when she walked past him and slipped her fingers through his hair, that always drew his smile, and the warmth in his eyes when she had his full attention…how could a man look at her like that if he didn’t care?

  When she wrapped the cloak around his shoulders and placed her hand on his chest, his heart pounded beneath her palm, as if he’d been running. It took more than gratitude to do that to a man.

  His eyes looked happy when he lifted her into the wagon and they began their trip to welcome a new life into the world. As they headed up the hill, he let his eyes meet hers. The heat behind them warmed her, and she let her own delight show.

  Then he looked away, and the connection between them broke. He kept his eyes on the mules and never spoke a word.

  And once more, she was left wondering whether the man who owned her heart saw her as a woman or only as a friend.

  Gaius’s farm, Day 45

  It was midmorning, and Gaius walked through the vineyard, checking the growing clusters. He stopped to watch Leander, whose careful eye spotted every pest bent on reducing the yield.

  His willing helper moved steadily down the row, but every now and then, Leander’s shoulders would droop, his head would drop, and his eyes would close. Something was not right, and Marcella would have Gaius’s hide if he let her favorite young man hurt himself.

  When he reached Leander’s side, he pointed at a log at the edge of the field. “Let’s sit a while.”

  After they sat, Leander picked up a stick and drew in the dirt.

  Gaius placed a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  Leander’s gaze shifted to the distant hills, and when it returned to Gaius’s face, his eyes were clouded.

  “In less than a week, Calantha’s father should be back from Sicilia. I’ll have to take her home and become a slave in his household again.”

  He buried his face in his hands. After long moments of silence, he raised wounded eyes to Gaius.

  “How am I ever going to do that? It wasn’t so bad at the Crassus estate. The overseer there saw I was good with horses, and he used me to do work I truly enjoyed. I did exactly what Apostle Paul taught. I served my master as if everything I did was serving my Lord. The overseer treated me well because I did. I hadn’t known freedom since I was a child, and somehow it didn’t bother me that I belonged to the estate, just like the horses and mules.

  “But it’s different now. In the mistress’s household, I was shifted around to do whatever the overseer felt like that day. I was only a talking tool in his eyes, only I knew better than to ever say anything.

  “Since we came here, I’ve lived as if I were a free man. I’d forgotten life could feel so...full of possibilities.” His shoulders sagged. “How can I go back to being no more than an animal serving the whim of the overseer?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “And the mistress...I’ve grown so used to seeing her as Calantha...as a woman who actually sees me and talks to me and...maybe even likes me. Not as a woman likes a man, of course, but as a friend. When I take her home, she’ll be Mistress Julia once more. I’ll see her every day when I carry that litter, but I’ll never get to talk with her again.”

  They stared into the distance together until the silence got too heavy.

  Gaius blew out a deep breath. “You love her, don’t you.”

  “Don’t say that. It’s not something I can even let myself think. If I say the words, it would make it too real. And somehow I have to make myself believe it isn’t true. A future with her is impossible. If I’m ever going to be able to take her back where I become invisible again, I have to deny it, even to myself. And I have to take her back. It’s where she belongs.

  “She’s the noble daughter of a Roman senator. Her father was a consul of Rome. He’s just finishing his year as proconsul of Sicilia. We’d have no future even if I was free right now. Even if she wanted it, too. No senator’s daughter can marry a freedman. Roman law forbids it.”

  Gaius wrapped his arm around Leander’s shoulders. “The law of Rome is not God’s law, and who knows what God may do to change what seems unchangeable?”

  Leander tried to smile, but the pain in his eyes was undiminished.

  “I know what Apostle Paul said. ‘All things work together for good for those who love God.’ I only wish I could see how that could be right now.”

  He stood. “I want to finish this row before lunch is ready.” He tightened his lips as he slowly shook his head. “Thank you for listening.”

  As Leander limped back toward the grape vines, Gaius sighed. Please help him, Father. Give him more than what he thinks is possible.

  Leander still had a tenth of a row to inspect when Gaius headed into the house. Marcella was humming as she set out bread, cheese, and dried dates for them.

  She greeted him with a smile; then her brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “Leander.”

  She straightened. “Did he hurt himself?”

  “No. That would heal. There’s no cure for his problem.”

  Her hand shot up and covered her mouth. “What happened?”

  “He loves Calantha.”

  When her hand dropped away, it revealed a smile. “That’s good. I’ve been watching her, and I think she loves him, too.”

  Gaius dropped into his chair. “It’s not good. She’s the daughter of a senator. Even worse, an ex-consul of Rome. He’s a slave. But even if he was free now, they couldn’t marry.”

  He placed his elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead. “He’s going back to be treated like an animal while he waits for her to marry some Roman aristocrat. It’s tearing him up inside.”

  She came to his side and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Has he told her?”

  Gaius shook his head.

  “Well, she needs to know. And if she loves him, too, we need to be praying for God to do something about it. I’m going to see Petronia and the new baby this afternoon, and I’ll take care of that.”

  She craned her neck to look out the door. “He’s coming. Not a word about me telling her until I know more.”

  He reached up and patted her hand where it rested on his shoulder, and she leaned over to kiss the top of his head.

  And then he smiled. The prayers of a righteous woman were powerful things, and surely God would hear.

  Petronia’s house

  When Marcella drove the wagon into Petronia’s farmyard, Calantha went to greet her with a sleeping Sertoria on her hip.

  “What a nice surprise. I’m afraid Petronia and the baby are asleep, but they should awaken soon.” She kissed the little girl’s head. “A little walk got this one sleepy, too.”

  “Where’s Quintus?”

  Calantha tipped her head toward the vineyard. “Helping his father look for bugs.” Her mouth curved into a smile. “He’s not as good at that as Leander, but give him some time…”

  Marcella climbed out of the wagon. “Let them sleep. It’s you I need to talk with first.”

  “Let’s sit.” A smile accompanied he
r glance at the toddler. “She gets heavy after a while.”

  They settled on a bench by the front door. Sertoria stirred, then went limp again.

  “What did you need to tell me?”

  “Actually, to ask you.” Marcella cleared her throat. “About Leander.”

  Calantha straightened. “He’s all right, isn’t he?”

  Marcella patted her arm. “Gaius is being careful with him. But he told Gaius something I think you ought to know.”

  “What is it?” Calantha tipped her head.

  “He told Gaius he loves you.”

  “He said so?” Calantha’s smile started small and broadened until she felt it stretching her face. “That’s wonderful! Petronia told me he was starting to, but I couldn’t tell for sure. He keeps his thoughts and feelings so well hidden. Too many years with masters who wanted it that way. I try to read his eyes and then tease the words out of him.”

  “That’s why I came to tell you because I knew he never would.” Marcella’s smile faded. “Gaius said he thinks there’s no hope of you ever being together.”

  Calantha drew a breath and released a deep sigh. “He’s the best man I’ve ever known, and I want us to marry, more than anything. But he’s right that there’s a huge barrier between us. My father is Tiberius Julius Secundus. He’s been consul of Rome, governor of Sicily, a leader in the Senate for as long as I can remember.” She shoved some loose hair behind her ear. “It’s stupid that Roman law won’t let me marry Leander, even after he’s a freedman. And I know Father will free him as soon as we go home. After what Leander did to save me from the kidnappers my brother hired, Father will do anything he can for him.”

  Her lips tightened. “But him being the finest man alive doesn’t matter under Roman law. Only family history and political connections, and what Roman law requires, that’s what Father will do.”

  “You know, there might be an easy solution.” Marcella’s brow furrowed, then relaxed. “You could just stay on with us. Don’t go back to Rome.”

  Calantha closed her eyes and sighed as she smiled. “I’d love to do that, but he’d never agree to it. He’s too honorable. He really would be a runaway if we did. Even if I told him he’d be serving my father best if he stayed and became my husband, he’d tell me I wasn’t the one who owned him. Without Father’s permission, he’d never stay.”

  Marcella touched her hand. “What are you going to do?”

  “First, I’ll go back to Father and get him to free Leander. I’m sure he’ll do even more to reward him for almost dying to save me from Aulus.” Her shoulders drooped. “But I still need to solve the problem of be being a Senator’s daughter. There must be some way around that, if I can only find it.”

  She leaned toward Marcella. “Don’t tell him anything about what I’m hoping for. I don’t want him disappointed if it doesn’t happen. But even if we can’t be together, at least he’ll be free to stay here with you.”

  Marcella placed her palm on Calantha’s cheek. “As Gaius is fond of saying, the laws of Rome are not God’s laws. If it’s His will for you to be together, He’ll show you the way.”

  A baby’s wail drew Marcella’s smile. “Time to go see the newest member of our house church.”

  As Calantha followed her through the door, she turned her face toward heaven.

  Dear God, please give us a future where we hear our own baby’s cry.

  Chapter 56: Finally on Track

  Subura, Day 45

  Aulus’s stomach tightened as they once more approached the gate into the abandoned Drusus stable yard. It had been twenty-six days since Julia was taken from that house. Twenty-six days of worrying about what he had done to his sweet sister. His eyes shifted between Africanus and Marcus. If her bearer really had taken her somewhere, as Callidus claimed, had he protected her or hurt her? And what was he doing with her now?

  Marcus strode past the gate, but Africanus paused. “Has this house been empty since the kidnapping?”

  Marcus looked back over his shoulder. “Yes.”

  “Then we should search it. They might have circled back and hidden here.”

  Marcus frowned, then nodded. “Your point about the slave having no friends to hide him…probably well taken. If they stayed in Rome, here would be a good place.”

  They entered the atrium with its scum-coated pool. Aulus’s eyes were drawn to the place by the wall where her tunic had swept the dirt away. The dust had returned; the last trace of her presence there was gone.

  Africanus and Marcus each took a side and looked in the small rooms off the atrium and peristyle while Aulus climbed the stairs to search the rooms off the balcony. Nothing but dust and silence greeted him.

  When he rejoined the others by the pool, Marcus slapped his arm.

  “Staying here would have been too risky. Titianus would have talked to everyone in this neighborhood. If it were me, I’d be afraid someone would report me.”

  Africanus moved toward the door. “But now we know they didn’t, and it’s time to find that shoemaker.”

  They reached the spot where the litter had been abandoned and followed the narrow passageway to the street beyond. To the left was a weaver, but across the street, a shoemaker was attaching the laces to a sandal.

  Marcus pointed. “A shoemaker, just like Callidus said.”

  They approached, and he turned with a smile. “How can I help you?”

  Aulus rested his palms on the counter. “We’re looking for two people who would have come out of that passageway twenty-six days ago.” He swung his arm toward the opening.

  The shoemaker chuckled. “Twenty-six days? That’s a long time to remember.”

  Marcus leaned in. “Try. It’s very important.”

  A flick of Aulus’s hand silenced him. “A retired legionary was trying to catch up with them. He asked you about a red-haired man in a red tunic and a young woman in green with jewels and fancy hair. You told him they went through another passageway, and he followed them.”

  “Oh, yes.” The shoemaker rubbed his chin. “I remember the young couple, but it wasn’t a military man who talked with me. It was a scrawny Roman who didn’t look like he’d ever held a sword. He claimed he was chasing two slaves who had robbed their mistress. The man had been hurt.” He pointed up the street to another passageway. “I told him they went through there, and he followed them.”

  Africanus’s voice came from behind Aulus. “How badly hurt?”

  “It couldn’t have been too bad. He had hold of her hand, and they were running. But he was limping.”

  Africanus moved forward to lean on the counter. “Was she trying to get away from him?”

  “No. She looked frightened, but not by the man with her. She could have tripped him and escaped easily if she wanted. She kept looking over her shoulder.”

  Africanus looked at Marcus, who tightened his lips, then shrugged.

  “What’s beyond that passageway?”

  “Mostly apartments and a few small shops. If you go left, the street leads to the farmers’ market, like this one does. There’s a cross street for wagons a hundred feet past that passage.”

  “Anything else to tell us?”

  “No. May Fortuna be with you in your search.”

  “Thank you.” Aulus flicked his hand, and the trio headed through the second passageway.

  Servilia turned from the loom that had held her gaze while the two senatorial sons and giant bodyguard questioned her neighbor. She mouthed a silent thank you, and the shoemaker tipped his chin as he beamed at her.

  She drew a breath and blew it out. It would be two days before Gaius came, and he usually came at dusk. She didn’t know where his farm was, and she wasn’t sure which street he used to reach the market. She’d have to make her best guess and wait some distance from the market to warn him they were hunting for Dacius and Julia.

  And she would be praying that she saw Gaius before the hunters did.

&n
bsp; Aulus took one side of the street, Marcus took the other, and Africanus switched back and forth. They worked their way up the street asking at each shop, but no one remembered seeing Julia and the slave. Then they returned to the passageway and worked their way down to the farmer’s market.

  “How is it possible that no one remembers a limping man dragging a wealthy girl?” Aulus massaged his neck.

  Africanus raised an eyebrow. “In parts of Rome, it’s safer not to remember what you see.”

  The street opened into a small forum filled with stalls and milling people. Aulus approached the first, where rows of fish carcasses lay with eyes that looked too long dead.

  A woman who smelled too much like her fish offered a greasy smile. “Can I help you, noble sir?”

  “Were you here twenty-six days ago?”

  Surprise filled the woman’s eyes; then they veiled. “I’m always here, ready to serve you.”

  “We’re looking for a red-haired man in a red tunic with a limp and a pretty maiden in a green tunic.”

  “I did see them.” She pointed to a fish, cloudy-eyed and with a distinct odor. “Did you want to buy something special for your cook to make for dinner before we talk?” She picked up the fish and waved it near his face. “Only one denarius.”

  Marcus took a step back, and Aulus fought against scrunching his nose. “Will you tell me where they went then?”

  “Of course.” Her mouth opened in a wide grin, and her breath was a fitting companion to the smell of the fish.

  Aulus reached for his purse.

  Africanus’s voice came from behind. “Don’t. Lies cost money. The truth is free.”

  The veil lifted from her eyes as anger filled them.

  Africanus led them away from the smell of decay. “Let me do the asking. You reek of money, and that’s a temptation to lie.”

  Marcus’s tightened his lips. “But we might catch something you miss in what they say.”

  “Listen if you wish, but act like you’re not with me.” Africanus stretched to his full height and scanned the area.