by Carol Ashby
“Lentulus!” Cassius slid from his horse and pounded Decimus on the back. “The legate declared three weeks after you vanished that you must all be dead. Your father was deeply grieved. He’ll be amazed to learn that his grief was premature when we reach the capital. What happened to you?”
“An ambush in the woods. I was left for dead.” He waved his arm toward the vendors. “That vegetable seller found me and nursed me back to health at her farm. She’s a physician.”
“A young woman like that a physician?” Cassius stared at Valeria.
“People do strange things so far from Rome. I must return to her farm before we go to the capital. There was gold concealed in my box of scrolls, and it’s still there.
As Cassius scanned her, an appreciative fire lit his eyes. “She’s a pretty little thing even with that scar.” A sly smile appeared on his lips. “You’ve been living with her a long time. She’d be a pleasure for any man to take. Did you enjoy her?”
Disgust flared Decimus’s nostrils and tightened his lips. “I was near death for two days after she found me. You question my honor to even suggest I would do that to my physician after she saved me.”
At Decimus’s rebuke, Cassius shrugged. “I meant no insult. No one would ever dare question your honor, Lentulus.”
Decimus nodded to acknowledge the apology. A wry smile appeared as he remembered his first meeting with Baldric. He knew one man who wasn’t afraid to question his Roman honor.
Valeria glanced toward the tree where Decimus had been loitering. He was no longer there. Her breath caught when she saw him walking toward her, smiling and talking with a Roman officer who was staring at her. It was obvious they were friends. A chill hand gripped her heart.
As they walked past the vendors, Decimus didn’t look at her. She understood and didn’t try to speak to him.
He didn’t want her to say something that would reveal to his friend that she was a Christian.
As they walked by the horse sellers, Decimus saw a tall man who looked like a younger version of Baldric. “I need to buy a horse. Do you have money?”
Cassius’s gaze snapped on him at that question. “Of course, but why buy it? Just take what you need.”
“No, I’ll pay a fair price for the animal. I don’t want to be thought a thief.”
Cassius raised his eyebrow but took his purse from his belt and handed it to Decimus.
“I’ll repay you when we reach my father.”
He summoned one of the soldiers and placed a stack of coins in his hand. It was more than what the horse was worth.
“Buy that large chestnut for me. Tell the seller that he must tell the owner the physician’s Roman is buying it and that he’s certain he’s paying a fair price. He must also tell him that the agreement has been fulfilled.”
The soldier saluted and went to buy Baldric’s horse. Decimus and Cassius walked on toward the inn.
Rhoda had been playing with Bertha, but she now stood beside Valeria. “Who is Decimus talking to? Why didn’t he say something to you? Is something wrong?”
Valeria’s headshake was small and quick. “I don’t think so. He knows that officer. These Romans are dangerous. I think he’s trying to protect us. He doesn’t want to risk me saying something that would make them realize we’re Christians. Don’t say anything to any of them. Stay close to me, and let me do all the talking.”
Rhoda’s eyes widened as she slid her hand into Valeria’s. She’d almost forgotten that Romans were dangerous.
Once again, Valeria watched Decimus eating with a Roman soldier who was his friend. His full-throated laughter drifted across the inn’s courtyard as he and the officer joked with each other. He laced his fingers together, placed his hands on top of his head, and leaned the chair back, just as he’d done so many times at home.
She’d loved to watch him do that as a smile lit his eyes, but it was different now. She turned her eyes away before the tears formed.
When they finished, Decimus rose and strode toward the vendors.
He stood at the edge of her blanket, looking down at her with a sober expression. “Gather your things. We’re heading back to the farm now.” The words were spoken crisply as a command in Latin.
As he towered over her, she tipped her head back to gaze on his face. She couldn’t read it. It was wearing the Roman mask that she’d seen when he first regained consciousness. She turned to the basket seller and handed her the remainder of her produce. “Please sell these for yourself. I have to leave now.”
The troop headed across the meadow with Decimus riding at the head of the column beside his friend. Valeria and Rhoda followed in the rear.
Rhoda had been silent as they hooked the mare to the cart and began their journey home. Now she turned to Valeria with worry in her eyes. She leaned close to Valeria’s ear and whispered, “What’s happening? Is Decimus going to leave us now?”
“I think so. He’s a Roman officer. I always knew he wouldn’t be able to stay.”
Rhoda hung onto Valeria’s arm and laid her head on her sister’s shoulder. Her voice quavered. “I don’t want him to go.”
Valeria stroked Rhoda’s hair and nodded twice. “I know, precious. I wish with all my heart that he could stay.”
They were halfway through the woods toward the ambush point when the soldier riding in front of the cart spoke to the man next to him. “I’m glad I ended up on this patrol. Governor Lentulus will be very grateful when we bring his long-lost son home. He may give us a special reward for this.”
An ice-cold hand squeezed Valeria’s heart. Decimus was the son of the governor? No wonder he’d refused to tell her his whole name. No wonder he’d been such a proud man, so sure of being in control when she first saw him.
But she’d seen him change so much. He could be gentle and kind. He’d seemed content, even happy, to be with Galen and Rhoda...and her.
She swallowed hard, but it wasn’t enough to clear the lump in her throat. She never meant to, but she’d fallen in love with a Roman officer. Even worse, he was a son of one of the ruling families of the Empire, raised in pride to assume positions of power. He would never be able to leave that behind to follow Jesus. His own father was even the one who’d decreed death for anyone who did.
He’d fallen in love with her, but when he left, that would be the end. She had no hope of any future with him. An aching sadness filled her as she fought against the tears.
Decimus tried to pay attention to the conversation with his friend, but he found his thoughts inexorably drawn to the woman on the cart sixty feet behind him. He’d planned on a few more days with her. Now he would have to leave immediately. There was still so much he wanted to tell her, but there would be no time to say it.
Maybe that was better after all―better that he leave before she decided she loved him. He was destined for political prominence serving Rome; he would probably never be able to return. It would probably be better for her if he never did.
Valeria tried to look at anything but his broad shoulders and the scar mostly hidden by his wavy hair as he rode so erect at the front of the column. Even without his red-crested helmet and polished armor, he was once again the proud Roman tribune. He’d told her already that he must do his duty. He would leave today, and she would never see him again.
That was probably the best for both of them. There would be no more risk that he would ask her to marry him. She would never have to hurt him by rejecting the man she loved for the God she loved even more.
The creak of the axle and the thuds of many hooves filled her ears but couldn’t drown out the silent cries of her breaking heart. It was the longest six miles of her life.
Chapter 43: Love Triangle
Valeria released a half-held breath when Galen was not in the farmyard. Thank God, he was working in the high meadow. She wouldn’t have to worry about him saying something that would put them all in danger before she could warn him.
She s
topped the cart by the porch.
With eyes swimming in tears, Rhoda looked toward the corral where Astro was pacing. “He’ll leave with Decimus. Can I go say goodbye to him?”
Valeria nodded, and Rhoda trudged over to the corral. The big stallion came to the railing and hung his head down so she could reach it easily. She scratched his blaze, then she wrapped her arms around his neck. He nuzzled her, confused by her sadness.
The troop rode around the corral and stopped by the water trough. After the men dismounted and watered their horses, they relaxed under the trees.
Decimus entered the cattle shed and returned with Astro’s saddle and trappings. With a flick of his hand, he summoned a soldier to put it on Baldric’s horse.
He drew his hand across his beard. “Cassius, give me your razor. I need to take care of a few things in the cottage, and then we can go.”
Cassius took his razor from his kit and handed it to Decimus. “Take your time. We can wait until you’re ready.”
As he walked toward the cottage, Decimus paused and looked at Rhoda. He turned and walked to her side.
“Astro’s not fit enough to carry me in battle anymore. It would be better for him to stay here and make big, strong foals with your mare. I give him to you.” He laid his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
Her eyes brimmed with tears as she tipped her head back to look up at him. “Thank you! I’ll take good care of him until you return.”
Her voice was almost a whisper, but he still heard it crack.
Without answering, he turned and strode toward the cottage. When he entered, he closed the door behind him, lest someone walk in unexpectedly and hear something that might expose her as a Christian.
Valeria was sitting at the table when he entered.
“I need my own tunic now.”
Without speaking, Valeria climbed into the loft and lifted it out of her trunk where she’d stored it. Even though she’d tried her best to clean it, it was still stained with his blood. She clutched it to her breast and took a deep breath before climbing back down the ladder. She found him taking the scrolls out of his box and laying them on the bed.
“I’ve given Astro to Rhoda. I’m leaving these for you and Galen. Do you have two strong tie sacks that I can keep?”
In silence, she went to the cupboard and took out several so he could select the ones he wanted.
He chose two of the strongest. “These will be fine.”
He carried the now-empty box to the table. He reached inside and pressed two secret releases. The top of the box lifted away, revealing a hidden tray. Beneath several sheets of papyrus lay gold coins and grain to keep the gold from jingling and betraying its presence. He slid the papyri into the first sack. Then he lifted the gold pieces out and divided them between the two sacks before tying their cords together.
“The robbers were right. We were carrying gold. As you once said, they didn’t realize that a box of writings might be the real treasure.”
She only nodded. She hadn’t spoken since he entered the cottage. She couldn’t trust her voice not to quaver and betray her surging emotions.
Her silence cut into Decimus.
“Would you get me some water? I need to shave.” She went out, closing the door behind her.
His thoughts were turbulent, like ocean waves crashing and swirling around jagged rocks. Why didn’t she speak? He needed her to say something that would start the conversation about them and the future. At the same time, he dreaded where it might lead.
He wanted to thank her and tell her what his time with her and her family had meant to him. As much as he longed to, he couldn’t ask her to be his wife. He could see the extreme difficulties of such a marriage for a man like him and the mortal danger to a woman like her.
His duty and destiny were to progress up the course of offices to become quaestor, then praetor, then governor of a province, as his father had done before him. He was already advancing early as the son of a senatorial family and the favorite of the legion commander. He only had three years left as a tribune, and then what?
He'd been fooling himself. He couldn’t have a Christian wife unless she could conceal her faith. He was certain she couldn’t and even more certain she wouldn’t even if she could. Even his own father would want to kill her when he discovered she was a Christian.
And how could she ever continue to love a man in charge of the games where watching men die was the main entertainment? That was an unavoidable part of the duties of his next office as quaestor.
He would find some way to explain it all―why he had to leave her even though he didn’t want to, why it would be better for her if he did―if she would just say something. With her silence, the door to that conversation remained closed because he was afraid to open it himself.
Maybe that was for the best. He would leave, Baldric would get her to marry Adolf, and that would be the end of it. She would be safe, and knowing that would temper the pain of losing her to another man, even a good man like Adolf.
By the time Valeria returned from the well, Decimus had changed into his short Roman tunic and had his sword hanging at his side.
She sat down at the table as he began to shave. She tried to fix her gaze on the bowl of water where he swished the blade to remove the clinging hair, but she couldn’t keep from glancing at the face that had become so dear to her. With each stroke of the razor, more of the Roman tribune appeared. Finally, all that remained of her Greek merchant was the slightly lighter shade of his cheeks where the beard had protected them from the sun.
He sat for some time, twirling the razor in his fingers. She knew he was waiting for her to say something, anything, but she clung to her silence.
Finally, he stood and looked down at her. She kept her gaze locked on her clasped hands. He mustn’t see how much it hurt to watch him prepare to leave. She couldn’t hold back the tears if she looked into his eyes. Her voice would betray her if she tried to speak. She didn’t want to make it any harder for him than it had to be.
Decimus had dreaded what she might say when it was time for him to leave, but her silence cut into him far deeper than anything she could have said. He could stand it no longer; it was time to go.
“I’m a tribune of Rome. It’s my duty to return to my legion. I’ve sworn my loyalty to Caesar, but I won’t betray you and your family as Christians. You mean more to me than...anything.” He turned on his heel and strode out the door.
Decimus draped the gold sacks across his horse’s withers. He led the animal to the stump by the corral and was about to mount when he froze.
He couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t leave her like that.
“Wait a moment, Cassius. I must speak with the physician.”
He left the mounted troop by the corral and strode back to the cottage.
Valeria was stone still, staring at his bed. Never again would she see him sitting there, smiling at her with those laughing eyes. Soon she would hear the troop leave, and with the fading hoofbeats, the last hope for a future with him would fade away.
He’d wanted her to speak, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough to say goodbye without betraying her love for him, and that would be wrong for both of them.
She spun when she heard his limping footsteps on the porch. Her heart began to race. His body blocked the light as he stood in the doorway, every inch the Roman tribune again.
He stepped inside and closed the door. With a few quick steps, he crossed the room to her.
“Why won’t you speak to me?”
She fixed her gaze on the floor and shook her head, unsure that she could keep her composure if she spoke. Why did he have to come back into the cottage? What could she possibly say that wouldn’t hurt him?
He placed his hands on both her arms and held her at arms’ length. “Look at me.”
She feared it would tear her heart apart, but she couldn’t resist fixing her gaze upon him for what
would be the last time.
“There’s something I must say to you. The ambush, my wounds, my time of blindness―I’m glad they happened. Without them, I wouldn’t have found you. I don’t want to leave you behind. Come with me and be my wife. If you’re careful what you say, I can protect you from the decree against you Christians.”
Valeria had been staring into his eyes. At those words, she blanched and shifted her gaze to the floor.
“I can’t.” Her voice was scarcely above a whisper as she fought to mask its quaver.
“Is it Galen and Rhoda? They can come with us. I care about them, too.”
“It’s not that...” Valeria swallowed hard, struggling to hold back the tears.
He cradled her chin in his hand and lifted it, forcing her gaze back to his face. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then rested his thumb along her jaw as he caressed her scar with the side of his index finger.
There was so much love in his eyes, and that love became a whirlpool pulling her deeper and deeper until she was drowning.
His voice caressed her when he finally spoke. “Then what is it? I can fix whatever it is so you can marry me. You love me, don’t you?”
Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she raised her hand and rested it on his cheek. A lock of hair had fallen across his forehead, and she pushed it slowly back into place.
Her voice caught, but she forced out the words she had never wanted to say. “Oh, Decimus. I do love you, even more than you can ever imagine, but I can’t marry you. You don’t follow the Way. I love you more than life itself, but I can never deny my Lord so I can be your wife. No matter how much I love you, I love Jesus more.”
Her words were a dagger impaling Decimus’s heart.
Impossible! How could she say she loved him, then reject him and choose her god?
A flash of shock followed by unspeakable pain and then anger surged within him.