The Roman laughed, a mercenary light coming to his eyes. “More than you have, old man.”
“How much?”
The smile left the soldier’s face at the lack of respect in the old man’s attitude. Handing Jubal the document, the soldier smirked when he saw the old Jew pale, his eyes widening in alarm.
“But that’s impossible!” Jubal turned to his son. “How is this possible?”
“This property is hereby confiscated and will be sold to pay the debt.” The soldier smiled a malicious smile. “Including all the residents and servants of this residence.”
The look that passed through Jubal’s eyes caused the soldier to step back hastily. Turning, he snapped his fingers. “Take them,” he commanded, and the guards moved forward as one.
Sara knew her father would be a match for any two men, but when five fell upon him, she knew he had no hope of winning. Everywhere was chaos. Pisgah and Simhah were being led outside in shackles, fear contorting their features.
Dathan tried to flee, but a huge Roman soldier slammed his fist into the side of Dathan’s head, sending him sprawling senseless to the floor. Abigail screamed, clinging to Sara. A soldier reached for Sara, leg irons dangling from his fingers. For the first time, the horror of the moment penetrated her shocked senses. She pushed her mother toward the door.
“Run!” she screamed, pain tearing through her scalp as a soldier grabbed her hair and jerked her backward. She knew it was useless to fight, but she had to try. The soldier grinned down into her face as another soldier applied the shackle to her ankle.
❧
Sara was led outside where her mother was bent weeping over the prostrate figure of her father. He was bound hand and foot, lying semiconscious on the ground. Blood dripped from his head and his mouth, a large bruise beginning to swell his eye.
Abigail was crying softly, while Dathan moaned, his face buried in his hands. Sara watched helplessly while the soldiers ransacked their home. She began to plead with God for their salvation, never expecting it to come in the form of a tall Roman on a large white horse.
Antonius paused, his brow furrowing. Kicking his horse forward, he pulled to a stop at the entrance to the house just as a tapestry flew out the door, barely missing the horse. Orion reared, and it took all of Antonius’s skills as a horseman to stay seated astride the frightened beast. By the time he had regained control, the leader of the soldiers was at his side.
“What goes on here?” Antonius roared with anger, his voice quivering in his wrath.
The soldier paled considerably, his Adam’s apple moving rapidly up and down. “Tribune! I’m sorry! We didn’t see you here.” He tried to take hold of Orion’s bridle, and the horse lashed out with his teeth, barely missing the man’s fingers.
Reaching down to calm the high-strung horse, Antonius’s eyes circled the yard, coming to rest on Jubal and his family. Sara was gently helping her father to his feet.
“You haven’t answered my question, Soldier. What is going on here?”
Motioning to Dathan, the soldier explained about the gambling debt. “Since he can’t pay it, I have been ordered to confiscate this property and all of its occupants.”
Antonius arched an eyebrow. “The debt is that large?”
Handing Antonius the scroll, the soldier waited for permission to continue. Instead, Antonius handed the document back. His gaze rested on Sara a moment, a sudden glitter entering his eyes. Reaching into a bag on his saddle, he pulled out a smaller bag, its contents jingling slightly. He motioned the soldier over and thrust the bag into his hand. The soldier lifted puzzled eyes to Antonius.
“Payment of the debt,” Antonius told him.
“Sir?” The soldier was beginning to doubt the tribune’s sanity, but he didn’t dare question him further.
“I am buying this property.”
Jerking his head up in surprise, the soldier opened his mouth and then closed it again. “But, Tribune. . .an auction. . .these are not. . .my orders.” He stopped, unable to go on.
“Whose orders?”
“Callus Phibeas.”
Antonius stared at him until the soldier dropped his eyes. “Since when has Callus had enough rank to issue orders?”
Flushing angrily, the soldier lifted his head. “It’s a signed, legal debt.”
“Agreed. And now the debt has been paid,” Antonius told him, his voice laced with steel. “Should Callus have any questions, send him to me.” The last four words, uttered in such a tone, caused the soldier to swallow hard. As the soldier turned to go, Antonius stopped him.
“Wait. What is your name?”
Lifting his chin, the soldier turned to answer. “Marcus Trajan.”
Antonius nodded. “Marcus, see that Dathan is sent to the galleys.”
A moan caused Antonius to turn his head. Dathan was on his knees, rocking back and forth in the sand. Sara’s pleading brown eyes caught his attention. Tightening his lips, he turned back to Marcus. “You have your orders.”
“Yes, Tribune.” Still, the soldier hesitated. “What of the others?”
“Release them.”
Remembering the battle between five of his finest men and the old Jew, Marcus was hesitant. “But. . .”
“I said, release them.”
Marcus motioned to the two soldiers nearest him, who hastened to obey. Antonius Severus was a wealthy and powerful nobleman, not to mention a tribune of Rome’s army. Let Callus deal with him, if he had a mind to. As for Marcus, he hoped he never found himself in such a predicament again.
They released all except Dathan, who was still sobbing on his knees in the sand. The soldiers hauled him to his feet and led him screaming away.
Sara felt her heart start to pound when Antonius’s eyes fastened on her.
“Get your things together. You’re coming with me.”
“No!” Jubal stepped forward, placing himself between his daughter and the Roman. His huge hands clenched into fists, but Antonius was unmoved.
“Hear me, Jubal Barjonah. You have a wife to worry about. See to her and leave Sara to me.”
Jubal’s face turned red with rage, and Antonius knew that if he couldn’t calm the man, someone might get killed.
“Listen to me, Jubal, for Abigail and Sara’s sake.” Antonius could see the old man struggling for control, and he continued. “I have need of Sara. I believe she can help me with my sister. I know you are angry about Dathan, but he brought his problems on himself. I will not explain my actions to you in this regard. I am taking Sara with me, but you need have no fear for her safety. I do not beat my slaves.”
“It is not beating that concerns me.”
Antonius was taken aback by the man’s forthrightness. A sardonic smile touched his lips as his eyes raked Sara from head to toe. Sara squirmed under his perusal, feeling like a lamb that was found wanting.
“You have no need to fear on that score, either. I have a preference for voluptuous blonds, not skinny Jews.”
Sara felt her anger beginning to rise. Realizing that she was in a precarious position and could further hurt her parents, she swallowed down the hurt the tribune’s words had caused her.
Antonius stared hard at Jubal. “We will speak again, but right now, I have more pressing matters to attend to.”
Jubal was torn, standing rigidly in front of Antonius. His eyes flashed fire that ignited an answering spark in Antonius’s.
“Have it your own way.” Antonius snapped his fingers, and several of the guards stepped forward.
“Wait!” Sara flung herself forward, laying a pleading hand upon her father’s arm. “I will go with him.”
Jubal stared into Antonius’s face. Not so much as a muscle twitch revealed any of the Roman’s thoughts.
“What of us?” Jubal finally managed to ask.
Antonius gazed levelly into Jubal’s worried eyes. “This property belongs to me now, as do you.” He nodded his head toward Abigail and the servants. “As do they.” Sara couldn’t miss t
he note of warning in his voice. “Take care of this property as though it were your own, and if Sara serves me well, someday it will be again.”
A puzzled look passed between Sara and her father. Antonius sighed impatiently. He laid a hand on Jubal’s shoulder and felt the old man stiffen at his touch.
“I don’t want your house or you or your servants. I have plenty of my own. But I have need of her.” He nodded his head at Sara. “I promise you I will take care of her and that no harm will come to her while she is with me.” He placed his hand on the eagle crest of his shield, the crest that represented Rome. “On my honor as a Roman soldier.”
Although Jubal had no faith in Roman soldiers, or their oaths, somehow he believed this one. He would make a good Jew, Jubal thought. Strong. Fierce.
Sara went quickly to get her few possessions. Her eyes filled with tears as she realized that this could very well be the last time she ever saw her family again. Looking around the rooms where she had known so much happiness brought a lump to her throat. Please, God, she thought, take care of them.
Antonius spoke to her father for several minutes before he mounted his horse again. Had he told her father what was to become of Dathan? When Sara returned to his side, her bundle of clothes under her arm, Antonius reached down and lifted her to the saddle in front of him. A familiar feeling washed over Sara as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted the reins. Touching his feet to the horse’s sides, they leaped forward. When Sara looked back, she saw her father and mother in each other’s arms. Her father looked frail with his grief. Sara had never seen him that way before, and she felt his pain as her own. Turning around, she kept her eyes forward.
They rode in silence for some time before Sara finally dared to ask a question. “Tribune?”
She regretted questioning him when he leaned forward to hear her, his cheek brushing against hers. Her heart jumped, and her breathing became shallow.
“Yes?”
Swallowing her fear, her voice came out hesitantly. “My brother, Dathan. Must he be sent to the galleys?”
Antonius leaned back and looked down at the girl in front of him. All he could see was the brown silk of her tresses hanging long and straight in front of him. He was almost tempted to run the strands through his fingers. Bringing his thoughts up short, he tried to answer her question without hurting her. He had remembered where he had seen Dathan before, after he left her home. In Ephesus, at the legionnaires’ headquarters. Gambling with the soldiers.
“Your brother has a lesson to learn,” he told her calmly. “I have seen your brother when he gambles.”
Sara jerked her head around in surprise. Antonius stared down into her large brown eyes for several seconds. “Oh yes, Sara.” The huskiness of his voice caused a fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “He has the sickness. When he gambles, nothing else matters. Not you. Not your family. Not anything.”
“But he’s only a boy,” she told him softly.
She watched as his eyes dilated to black obsidian. He snorted, and Sara turned away, unable to withstand the scorn she saw in his face.
“When I was his age, I had already joined the Roman legion and saw my first battle.”
Orion shifted beneath him, and Antonius took a moment to adjust his position, pulling Sara more securely against him.
“Because of Dathan, your family has lost everything and are slaves of a Roman. You are here with me now, not knowing what I have planned for you.” Antonius could feel her breathing deepen and almost laughed aloud. “I would have died before I let such shame come upon my family.”
“Perhaps so,” Sara agreed. “But I fail to see how the galleys will accomplish anything. It can’t change what has already transpired.” There were tears in her voice, though she held her body rigidly erect, and he could not see her face.
“Some of my soldiers have had the same sickness,” he told her roughly, not unmoved by the tears. “The only cure for them is to get them as far away from the temptation as possible. There will be no time to think of such foolishness where your brother is going, and maybe it will help him to realize just what he has lost.”
Sara thought of her brother in the bowels of a ship, day in and day out, never seeing the sun. Every day, rowing, rowing. Chained to others doing the same. Her heart cried out with the pain, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Poor Dathan. So full of life. So impetuous. What would become of him? For that matter, what would become of her?
She could see Ephesus laid out before her as they slowly approached the city. She had only been here twice with her family, even though they lived close. Instead of excitement as she had felt before, she felt only dread. Somewhere down there among the ports, her brother was being chained in a hold. Somewhere down there was her future, but the only future she could see was filled with sorrow. Without realizing it, she leaned her head back against Antonius’s chest.
The sudden warmth of Sara’s body against his brought Antonius’s thoughts sharply back to the present. It suddenly came to Antonius just what she must be going through. The fear she must be feeling. The thought of someone doing something so barbarous to Diana almost made his blood boil. He felt a moment’s guilt until he realized that he had done all of this for Diana. Pulling Sara tighter against him, he tried to let her know that she was safe. He had snatched her from her home and family, sent her brother to the galleys, purchased her home in less than ethical circumstances, and yet through it all she had maintained her composure. She certainly had no reason to trust him. Suddenly he felt very protective.
“You have nothing to be afraid of, Sara,” he whispered in her ear and felt her shiver. Mistaking the response, he pressed his lips tightly together. He decided he needed to give her time. He remembered the time he had spent in her company. For the past several weeks, his thoughts had returned to her from time to time, wishing at times that he could be in her presence. Just being around her had brought peace to his troubled soul, if only momentarily. When Diana’s condition had worsened, he remembered the healer who had treated Sara. Although he had some of the finest physicians in Rome attending to Diana, they had been able to do nothing. Desperate, Antonius had decided to seek the healer out. Instead, he had come away with Sara. In time she would see what he needed her for, and maybe, just maybe, she could help Diana. Firmly he pushed the guilt feelings aside and tried not to think too much about the future.
Chapter 4
Antonius led his horse through the backstreets of Ephesus, bypassing any would-be gossips. He went through large wooden gates set inside six foot-high concrete walls that surrounded his outer garden. A servant was waiting when he stopped his mount, taking the reins from Antonius, who had to smile. Only Gallus could handle the huge stallion, and he no more than a boy of fourteen. They had forged a bond between them, precipitated by the boy’s love of anything equine.
Sliding from the saddle, Antonius reached up, placing his hands around Sara’s tiny waist and helping her to dismount. He patted Orion before releasing him to the boy’s custody. “Be sure he is fed, watered, and brushed down.” Antonius knew he didn’t need to remind the boy, but it was part of a long-standing game the two played. As usual, the boy’s lips pushed out in a pout and he told the horse, “One day I will take you away from such a mean master.”
Sara’s eyes widened in shock. She glanced at Antonius, only to find him grinning at the boy. Realizing that this interplay between the two was not serious, she smiled slightly. It was good to know that Antonius had a sense of humor and treated his slaves like people instead of like dogs.
Glancing around her, Sara was awed by the large villa. Huge Doric columns rose majestically upward, ending at a roofline that gave the front entrance a spatial elegance. Antonius led her through the open door into the atrium, where the bright light of the afternoon sun shone through the opening in the ceiling. Brightly colored wall paintings and cold marble floor tiles decorated the room. Sara had never experienced such wealth in her life, even though among the Jews, her fa
ther was considered a wealthy man.
Antonius watched her silently, knowing that whatever the circumstances, she would find a way to adjust. “Come, Sara,” he told her. “I will show you around while I explain certain things to you.”
She regarded him soberly. “About your sister?”
He nodded. “That and other things.”
They went through a large doorway supported by Composite columns into the peristyle. A fountain tinkled in the center of the courtyard, surrounded by trees, shrubs, and flowers. The color and beauty almost took Sara’s breath away. Sunlight spilled through a large opening in the ceiling. Leading her to a bench near the fountain, Antonius motioned for her to sit.
“Anyone who resides at this house is welcome to use the peristyle, but only if the area is not being utilized for some reason.” He motioned toward the other end of the courtyard, and Sara could see another garden through another opening.
“That is the fruit and vegetable garden. You are allowed there anytime.”
Sara understood. With each word he uttered, she felt more and more the shackles of bondage. He made very clear the differences between them.
Sitting down next to her, Antonius picked a flower and began to slowly pull it apart. “My sister is dying,” he told her, and Sara could hear the pain in his voice. “The doctors say there is nothing more that can be done.” He sighed in frustration. He looked at Sara before he turned his attention back to the flower, dropping a petal on the ground. “They’re not even sure what ails her.”
Sara’s eyes clouded with sympathy. “I’m sorry.”
Antonius turned to her and smiled wryly. “Are you? After all that I’ve done? Why should you care about a Roman?”
Taking her time before answering, Sara looked up at the sky through the opening in the ceiling and stared pensively at the feathery clouds drifting above them. Oh, to be on the hillsides watching the sheep graze, their soft bleating echoing across the knolls.
“It is true that I have no love for the Romans,” she told him softly. “But neither do I hate them.”
The Eagle And The Lamb (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Page 3