Antonius smiled wryly. “I have seen this, also. I get what you are trying to say. If more than one being tried to create the same thing, we would have the same result.”
“Your gods are capricious,” she reiterated. “My God is unchanging. His word is His oath, and nothing can cause Him to break His word. He is a loving God who cares for His people.”
“And if your God cares for you so much, then why are you a slave?” he asked her derisively.
Sara had no answer. She had asked herself the same question over and over, but she had faith that God had put her where she was for a purpose.
“No answer, Sara?”
“No one knows the mind of God, Tribune. If we did, He wouldn’t be God.”
For the rest of the journey, Antonius thought about what she had said. As they neared her village, he could feel the rising excitement emanating from her. He followed the path he remembered, turning away from the spot where he had first encountered Sara that fateful day. Unerringly he made his way to Sara’s front door. Both the front door and the shop door were closed against the increasing heat from the sun.
Things seemed too quiet, and when Sara would have jumped down, he held her back. His soldier’s instinct told him something was seriously wrong.
“Stay put,” he commanded.
“But. . .”
“Do as I say, Sara. If you get out of this chariot, I’ll have you flogged.”
Sara paled at the threat, swallowing down her anger and impatience. Antonius got out of the chariot and cautiously approached the house. He knocked on the door, waiting for a response. None came. Sara was frightened. She, too, could sense that something was amiss.
Antonius applied his shoulder to the door, and it creaked open on its leather hinges. He peered into the gloom.
“Sara. Come here.”
She was at his side in an instant. He nodded his head toward the corner, and she could see a figure lying on a mat. Pushing the door open wider to let in the light, Sara could make out the figure of her mother, her eyes closed.
“Mother?” Sara’s voice echoed eerily around the room. Quickly she went to Abigail and laid a hand against her forehead. Bending closer, she was startled when her mother suddenly opened her eyes.
“Sara?”
Sara could barely understand her, her voice was so faint. “Yes, Mother. It’s me. What has happened to you? Where is Father?”
Instead of answering, Abigail closed her eyes again. Sara looked at Antonius in alarm. “My mother is ill.”
Sensing a presence, Antonius whirled quickly to face the door. Jubal stood in the opening, his eyes on Sara. He was thinner than when she had left a week ago, and he looked like an old man. His shoulders were bent as though he were carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.
“Sara? You have come home.”
His tired voice was the last straw for Sara. She threw herself into her father’s arms and burst into tears. “What has happened here? What’s wrong with Mother? What’s wrong with you?”
Although his strength had been diminished, Sara felt as though he would surely crush her ribs.
“My baby,” he whispered over and over.
Antonius was stricken with remorse. Had he been responsible for all of this? When he remembered the strength of the old Jew, his regal bearing, and then saw the way he was now, he wanted to cry himself. He gave a discreet cough.
“Sara, perhaps your mother has need of the old healer?”
Sara looked up, realizing that she had forgotten the tribune’s existence. She knew he was probably right.
“Father,” she pleaded. “What is wrong with Mother?”
Jubal looked past her to Abigail. “She has been that way since the day the two of you were taken away.” He glared at Antonius. “She has lost all will to live.”
Antonius swallowed hard, turning away. “Sara, go for the healer.”
“He has already been here,” Jubal told him. “There is nothing he can do.”
Antonius jerked his head up. Where had he heard those words before? Is that what all physicians said?
Sara went to her mother, sitting beside her on the mat. “Let me talk to her. Alone, please.”
Antonius nodded, but Jubal seemed disinclined to leave. Antonius motioned outside. “I need to speak to you,” he told Jubal.
After they left, Sara took her mother’s hand in her own. She started humming softly the song her mother used to sing to her when she was a child and afraid.
“Mother,” she urged softly. Abigail opened her eyes again and smiled.
“Am I dreaming, Sara?”
“No, Mother. I have come home.”
Abigail’s face wrinkled into confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“The tribune brought me home to see you. He has been very kind to me.”
Sara went on to tell her mother about Diana and life at the villa. “So you see, Mother,” she concluded, “God must want me there for a purpose. I haven’t been harmed in any way. In fact, I have been treated as though I were a friend instead of a slave.”
Abigail smiled. “I need to ask the Lord’s forgiveness. I didn’t trust Him to take care of you.” She lifted a hand to stroke Sara’s cheek. “If He has a purpose for you, then He must also have one for your brother.”
“Yes, Mother,” Sara choked. “And for you and Father, as well.”
When Jubal and Antonius came back, Antonius looked from Sara to her mother. “She is resting better now,” she told both of them.
Antonius nodded. “Your father needs to speak to you. I will wait outside.” He paused. “Better yet, I will allow you time with your family, and I will come back for you later.” He clicked his heels together, bowed, and left.
By the time Antonius returned, Sara had managed to get her mother to eat some food. After all they had to say to each other, Sara knew that her parents would be all right now. Whatever Antonius had said to her father had brought the color back to his face and the pride back to his eyes. Sara had prayed with her mother and could tell it had brought her peace. Still, Sara was reluctant to leave them.
Sara was surprised when Antonius told her parents, “Sara may come and see you at least once a week.”
Her mother had smiled then. It was the hardest thing Sara had ever had to do, to walk away from her family just then, but she knew Antonius would never leave her behind. Because of Diana.
Antonius helped her into the chariot and took up the reins. Before he could snap the whip, Sara laid her hand over his. He looked at her questioningly.
“Tribune, I would like to see Ahaz before we leave.”
“The healer?” he questioned.
Sara nodded her head. Antonius hesitated but decided that she must want to consult him because of her mother. He owed her that much.
“Show me the way.”
Sara led him down the street and out past the village. They hadn’t gone far when Sara motioned for him to stop. Antonius looked at the mud hut with distaste.
“Here?”
Sara nodded and started to get down from the chariot.
“I will go with you,” he told her.
“No!”
Antonius pulled back in surprise, sudden suspicion bringing a frown to his face.
“Ahaz will not talk to me if you are there,” she told him placatingly. She waited for his permission, looking everywhere but at him.
“Go then,” he snapped. “But be quick.”
When Sara returned, she was clutching a bag in her hand. Antonius helped her into the chariot.
“What is that?” he wanted to know.
“Some things Ahaz gave me.” Antonius stared at the bag doubtfully, so Sara placed the bag out of sight. “Ahaz has always shared with the people of my village the things that he grows. Herbs, spices, various plants.”
“For medicines?”
“Sometimes,” Sara replied. “Bacchus told me that he likes to experiment with various spices and herbs, so I thought I would bring hi
m some.”
Antonius grunted an answer, taking the reins in his hands and deftly applying the whip. They were silent on the return trip, each thinking their own thoughts.
Gallus took the reins from Antonius, who turned to help Sara alight from the chariot.
“Go and see how Diana is. I will be along in a minute.”
Sara found Diana in much better spirits, though her face was extremely pale.
“Oh, Sara! I’m so glad you’re home. Where’s Antonius?”
“He said he would be here shortly,” Sara told her.
“Please, Sara,” Diana begged weakly. “Could you massage my scalp like you do? I have a fearful headache. If it wasn’t so early, I’d take my sleeping draught now.”
Sara frowned but went to Diana and released the ivory bone pins from her elaborate hairdo. Slowly Sara began to massage her scalp, humming a tune as she did so. Sara could feel the tension begin to drain out of Diana. She was unaware of Antonius watching from the doorway.
“Oh, that feels good,” Diana sighed. “You have magic hands.”
Sara laughed. “I don’t know about that, but my father used to enjoy me doing this for him.”
“How was your family?” Diana wanted to know.
Sara sobered. “My mother was ill. My father. . .he seemed all right when we left.”
Antonius entered the room and came to stand close beside Sara. She felt suddenly clumsy, though Diana didn’t notice any difference.
Decimus knocked on the door. “My lady, the physician is here.”
Sara felt Diana stiffen beneath her fingers. “You don’t need to see him, if you don’t want to,” she told Diana.
“Of course she does,” Antonius intervened. “If you can’t be sensible, leave the room.”
“Tribune. . .”
“I said, leave,” he commanded, taking her by the arm and forcibly removing her from the room.
Sara paced up and down the balcony until the physician left. Going swiftly into the room, she found Diana much as she had previously. Sara’s lips tightened when she saw the bandage where the physician had bled her again. Diana’s eyes were glassy.
“Sara,” she whispered. “I think I want to sleep now.”
“Yes, Diana,” she answered softly, her eyes filling with sympathy. “I will get things ready.”
After Diana was asleep, Sara hurried to the vegetable garden behind the house where she knew she wouldn’t be interrupted. Throwing herself to her knees, she began to pray fervently. She felt a measure of peace when she finished, her eyes swimming with tears as she lifted them to the dusky sky.
When Diana was asleep, Sara was free to do as she chose. Tonight, however, something told her to stay close to Diana, so she busied herself picking up in Diana’s room. When she finished, she pulled a chair close to the bed, leaving one lamp lit so that she could see if Diana needed her.
How long Sara had been sitting there she didn’t know, but darkness had veiled the night with its cloak. Crickets began to chirp in the peristyle below, their familiar cadences seeping in through the open door. The night was warm, and very little air came into the room. Diana became restless, moving her head from side to side. She started to moan softly, becoming even more agitated. Sara got up and leaned over her, putting a hand to her cheek. Diana’s skin was extremely hot.
Sara went out to the balcony and called Decimus. He must have been close by, because he was at her side almost instantly.
“What is it, Sara?”
“Diana has a fever,” she told him and noticed that worry lines creased his brow. “I need some cool water.”
“I’ll get it right away.”
Sara hurried back to Diana. She felt her forehead and became instantly worried herself. Her fever was climbing.
Decimus entered the room with a bowl of water and brought it to Sara. “How is she?”
“Not good. Her fever is getting worse, and so is her restlessness. If she gets worse, she may harm herself, flailing about like she is.”
Decimus left the room and came back quickly, carrying a soft drape of material. He found Sara trying to hold Diana down. Taking the material, he wrapped Diana in its folds tightly, which only caused her to become more agitated.
“Antonius! Antonius!” she rasped.
“What should we do, Decimus?”
Decimus stood worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “I think I had better go for the master. He left word with Abijah where he would be in case anything happened.” His voice lowered. “I have never seen her this bad before.”
Sara hesitated. She couldn’t handle Diana alone; she hadn’t the strength. In her delirium, Diana possessed surprising strength herself. “I think we should send Abijah. I need you to help me with Diana.”
“Abijah is not here right now. He went to his brother’s house, but he told me where to find the tribune.”
“I will go then,” Sara told him, but Decimus was already shaking his head. Diana fought the covers, managing to get her legs free and kicking out angrily. It took all Decimus had to wrap her snugly again. He looked at Sara worriedly.
“Perhaps you are right, but if you go out at night alone, the master will have my hide.”
“What choice do we have?” she remonstrated with him. “I don’t have time to argue with you. Tell me where to find the tribune.”
Sara found herself hurrying through the dark streets of Ephesus, praying wildly as she flew along. Her prayers were answered, because she reached the house she was looking for unmolested. She only had time to take in the fact that this villa was almost as large as Antonius’s. Pushing through the gates, she climbed her way to the door, pounding furiously upon its solid wooden surface. She waited breathlessly until she heard a sound from the other side.
The door opened slightly, and light spilled out into the darkened courtyard. A servant peered out, trying to focus on Sara’s darkened figure. His eyes squinted slightly, his face drawing into a frown when he realized the woman before him must be a servant.
“What do you want?” he growled, inching the door closed to a mere crack.
Sara released a breath, wringing her hands in the folds of her tunic. “Is Antonius Severus here?”
Recognition flashed momentarily in the servant’s eyes, but he made no answer. His mistress had made it quite plain that nothing was to interfere with her party, especially not where Antonius Severus was concerned.
“Please,” Sara begged. “I have to see him. His sister is very ill.”
The servant opened the door wider, torn by his desire to please his mistress and the sure knowledge that Antonius would have him flayed if he ever found out that he had refused to bring him knowledge of his sister. As he stood hesitating, a figure approached from the street, stopping when he recognized Sara.
“Sara? What are you doing here?”
Sara turned to him with relief. “Tribune Flavius, I must speak with Antonius. He left word with Abijah that he would be here.”
Flavius was instantly alert, his eyes searching her face. “Is it Diana?”
“She’s very ill. Her fever is making her delirious, and she continually calls for Antonius.”
Face pale, Flavius turned to the servant. “What are you waiting for?” he snapped. “Get Antonius!”
“Yes, my lord.”
Flavius waited with Sara, watching the man’s back disappear into the anteroom where Helena held her parties.
“How bad is she?” he asked quietly, and Sara could hear the desolation in his voice. He must love Diana very much. She wondered if Diana knew.
Antonius appeared, quickly covering the distance to where they stood. A beautiful redhead followed in his wake, clutching his arm when he would have left.
“Antonius! Where are you going?” she demanded petulantly.
“I’m sorry, Helena. I must go to my sister.”
“For the love of Poseidon, why must you always attend your sister? What good will it do? She’s going to die anyway.”
Sara was shocked at such coldness, especially coming from one with such flawless beauty. She saw Antonius’s eyes darken with anger. He shook her hand off as though she were some vile thing. Sara could see that Tribune Flavius was just as outraged, his fists curling at his sides. Antonius would have left without a word, except that Helena tried once more.
“I’m sorry, Antonius,” she told him in her most seductive voice. “I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I have missed you so much.” She stroked her hands up his arms and curled them around his neck. Antonius remained still, his arms hanging at his sides.
Helena’s full red lips curled into a pout. “Oh, Antonius. You have become such a bore lately.”
Reaching up, Antonius removed her hands from his body and gave her a slight shove. “In that case, Helena, I will not bother you with my presence ever again.”
Antonius took Sara by the arm and pulled her down the steps. Sara could hear Flavius turn to follow them. He looked over his shoulder and gave Helena one final parting shot.
“The same goes for me, Helena.”
When they reached the street, they could hear Helena’s angry voice.
“You’ll be back, Antonius.”
Antonius and Flavius exchanged glances. Flavius shrugged his shoulders, a grin splitting his features. “I feel like a fly that has just had a narrow escape from a spider.”
Antonius nodded his head in agreement, but his attention had already turned toward Sara.
“What’s happened?”
Taking a breath, Sara explained Diana’s condition. Antonius listened in silence, his face becoming a grave mask. “Flavius, will you go for the physician? Tell him it’s urgent.”
Flavius saluted once, then disappeared in the opposite direction, his figure quickly swallowed up by the darkness. Sara was panting, trying to keep up with Antonius, but she said nothing. She was just as anxious as Antonius to reach the villa.
Antonius went quickly to Diana’s room and found Decimus kneeling beside the bed.
“Decimus?”
The boy jumped quickly to his feet. “My lord,” he sighed with relief. “She is still burning with fever. I have bathed her face constantly; that seems to soothe her some, but she continually calls for you. I have never seen her this bad before.”
The Eagle And The Lamb (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Page 6