The Eagle And The Lamb (Truly Yours Digital Editions)

by Darlene Mindrup

  Color raced up Flavius’s neck, spreading across his face and into his hairline. Antonius laughed aloud, drawing the attention of several passersby. “As I live and breathe! Why didn’t you mention it to me? Who is she?”

  Before Flavius had time to answer, Antonius placed a hand on his arm. Looking at him, Flavius found Antonius’s eyes focused elsewhere, a frown on his face. Following the direction of his gaze, Flavius noticed Sara hurrying along on the other side of the street. She was deep in conversation with the boy at her side. When she broke into laughter, Flavius noticed the thunderclouds forming in Antonius’s eyes.

  Flavius’s eyebrows flew upward as he watched the little drama unfolding before him. A sudden suspicion caused him to narrow his eyes and follow Sara’s movements more carefully. Surely not. Antonius in love with a slave? And the girl wasn’t even pretty. There had to be another explanation, but what he saw in Antonius’s eyes he had seen before in others. Stark jealousy.

  “I have something to do,” Antonius told him absently. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Flavius watched Antonius cross the street and head in the direction the pair had disappeared. Shaking his head, he turned in the opposite direction. At least Antonius had been sidetracked from further questioning him about the woman in his life. How could he tell Antonius that the woman was his own sister? Antonius believed that they had a brother-sister relationship. Flavius shook his head. There was nothing brotherly about the way he felt for Diana. Someday he would have to face Antonius with a declaration of his love for Diana, but at least the time had been postponed. He sighed with relief.

  ❧

  Antonius followed Sara and Decimus through several alleyways and past the marketplace. He had assumed they were going to the market, but their basket was full of goods, and they were going in the opposite direction of the villa. His thoughts heavy with suspicion, he stayed close without being seen.

  Antonius stopped when they stopped. Decimus put his hands on Sara’s shoulders, his face intent on what he had to say. Sara seemed to be arguing with him, and Decimus finally nodded his head in resignation. When Sara would have passed him to enter the dirty apartment, he reached out a hand and stopped her. Bending down, he kissed her cheek, and Antonius felt the pain in his jaws from clenching his teeth together.

  When Sara had gone inside, Decimus stood watch at the door. Antonius watched until the sun started to descend before Sara returned. When she came outside, Antonius noticed that her basket was empty. He frowned, trying to assess the situation. Something was going on here, and it definitely didn’t make sense.

  Antonius ducked into an open doorway when they came his way, their heads close together as they discussed something. He stayed hidden until they were far enough ahead of him for him to feel comfortable with the fact that they didn’t suspect they had been followed. Drifting along the streets in their wake, he followed them back to the villa.

  ❧

  Sara was in the peristyle gathering flowers for Diana’s room when she looked up and found Antonius watching her. The blue of his eyes was almost hidden by the black of his pupils, his face cast in granite. He stood so until Sara began to feel uneasy with his perusal.

  “You wanted something, Tribune?” she asked him uncertainly.

  “Where were you today?” he demanded coldly, and Sara could feel a knot forming in the pit of her stomach.

  “I. . .I went to the market.”

  “Alone?”

  Flushing, she looked down at the flowers in her arms. “No. Decimus was with me.”

  Antonius came to stand before her. She could feel the rage vibrating from his body. She sensed his unleashed violence and began to tremble.

  “You went only to the market?” he insisted, his voice tinged with frost.

  Sara bit her lip, wondering where these questions were leading. Had Antonius somehow found out about her and Decimus? And if so, how? She pulled in her breath, trying to relax. They had done nothing wrong. Not really.

  “Answer me, Sara. Or should I call Decimus?”

  Sara’s head flew up, and Antonius’s lips pressed together at the fear he saw there.

  “You don’t need to call. I am here.” Both Sara and Antonius turned to watch as Decimus came through the back garden entrance. He walked purposefully, coming to stand beside Sara. His eyes lifted defiantly to Antonius.

  “What were the two of you doing at the market?” Antonius bit out savagely.

  “Shopping,” Decimus told him calmly.

  Quick as a flash of lightning, Antonius had the boy by the front of his tunic, lifting him clear off the ground. Sara screamed, trying to pry them apart. Antonius’s eyes glittered with rage, and Sara feared for Decimus’s life.

  “Tribune! Please!”

  “What’s going on here?”

  Antonius dropped Decimus to the ground, where the boy began rubbing his throat. Sara bent to him, but her eyes were raised upward in astonishment. Antonius stood transfixed, his eyes locked on his sister, who was leaning against the balcony with all her strength. In a moment, Antonius was up the stairs, lifting her gently in his arms.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded fiercely.

  “I heard Sara scream. What’s happening? What were you doing to Decimus?” Diana’s voice rose higher and higher.

  “Shh,” Antonius begged. “You’ll upset yourself.”

  “I’m already upset,” she told him. “I want to know what you were doing.”

  Antonius’s eyes flashed downward to where Sara was still leaning over Decimus. Both of them were staring in horror up at Antonius, who was feeling more than a little foolish at the moment. He hadn’t even given them time to explain.

  “Both of you come up here. Now!”

  Sara helped Decimus get to his feet, and Antonius watched as they began to ascend the stairs. They looked like a pair about to face the execution squad. Antonius smiled grimly. No, he hadn’t given them a chance to explain, but he would now. And it had better be one good explanation.

  Chapter 10

  A Christian! Are you out of your mind?” The thunder of Antonius’s wrathful voice echoed throughout the room.

  Diana sighed. “Sit down, Antonius, and stop roaring at me like a lion! Let me explain.”

  Antonius whirled on Decimus. “This is your doing! By the gods, I should have the skin stripped from your back.”

  Decimus remained still, the only outward show of emotion the paling of his face.

  Sara opened her mouth to speak, but Diana interrupted angrily. “You’ll do no such thing! Decimus had nothing to do with this.”

  Antonius fixed his eyes on Sara, their hard glitter giving evidence of the rage he had worked himself into. “Then it must be your doing.”

  Again Diana intervened. “It was not Sara’s doing nor was it Decimus’s. It was my own decision. You cannot blame them for answering the questions I asked of them.”

  “Can’t I?” Antonius’s voice was more frightening in its quietness than his previous ranting. His eyes glowed almost obsidian, and Sara felt herself swallow in fear. “I seem to remember commanding them not to speak of religious things to you.”

  Diana tried to rise from the couch, leaning heavily on the table next to it. Antonius became instantly alarmed and went to her, trying to get her to settle back down again.

  “If you won’t sit down, then I’ll stand up,” she told him firmly.

  “All right! All right, I’ll sit down,” he relented, and Diana collapsed back with a sigh of relief.

  “Decimus, you and Sara may leave,” she told them.

  “No!” Antonius was back on his feet in an instant.

  “Antonius,” Diana pleaded. “I would rather speak with you about this alone.”

  Staring down at her, Antonius felt some of the anger drain away. Whatever had happened, Diana was much like the girl she used to be. A sparkle in her eyes gave evidence of the life that again flourished within her. She had almost died, and now here she was, vibra
nt and full of purpose. And she had walked. Praise the gods. Or should he thank Sara’s unseen God?

  “Go,” he told them without taking his eyes from his sister. “Decimus, you will wait for me in the bibliotheca.”

  Sara and Decimus exchanged glances. “As you wish, my lord.”

  When they had gone, Antonius turned back to his sister. “You have a lot of explaining to do. And what is this about you becoming a Christian? It’s. . .it’s preposterous. I forbid it, Diana!”

  “Antonius,” she told him softly. “You can’t forbid me to believe what I believe. As the head of our family, you have the right to forbid me many things and command me to do others, but you cannot control what’s in my mind. Nor in my heart.”

  What she said was true, and Antonius felt the anger returning as he felt his own helplessness. He needed to be calm if he wished to sway Diana from this way of thinking. She could be as stubborn as he was at times. Taking a deep breath, he sat down beside her, taking her hand in his own.

  Diana reached up with her other hand and laid it against his cheek. “Before you say anything, let me tell you something. I didn’t just believe overnight. I’ve given this a lot of thought. I’ve had enough time, that’s for sure. I started asking questions, I guess, years ago. Maybe when Decimus first became a Christian himself. We talked about it a lot.”

  She slid her hand down, wrapping it around his hand with her other. “Decimus is not a Jew.”

  “I’m aware of that,” he told her irritably.

  “But he accepted a Jewish God. That intrigued me. We spoke of it often. Then Sara came to us, and. . .well, you know what happened. I owe her my life.”

  Antonius jerked to his feet, pacing the floor like a caged lion. He pushed his hands through his hair, dropping them helplessly to his sides. “She has filled your mind with all kinds of nonsense.”

  “No, Antonius. She has not. She only answered the questions I asked of her. I figured this out for myself.”

  For the first time, Antonius noticed a difference about his sister. She looked more mature, more in tune with her emotions. He was suddenly filled with foreboding. He had no idea what this change meant for their lives.

  “What have you figured out?” he asked her quietly.

  “That of all the gods and goddesses, of all the religions, of all the beliefs, this one makes sense.”

  Antonius went and sat down by her side again. Sighing, he looked deeply into her eyes to see if he could read the truth there. “How does it make sense that a God who loved His people would treat them the way He has? Their race has been almost completely destroyed.”

  “Antonius, do you remember the time you and Father disagreed about the way you should live your life? You wanted to join the legion, and he wanted you to take over his business enterprises.”

  “I remember,” Antonius told her grimly, thinking back to that time that had caused the first real breach in their father-son relationship. He had wanted to please his father, but he had wanted to please himself more. In the end, Antonius had his way, but it had left a sour taste in his mouth.

  “He could have commanded you, but that would only have driven you farther away. God is like that.”

  “Diana. . .”

  “Wait. I’m not finished. Romans believe that the Christian religion is abhorrent. Detestable. But what could be so wrong about a faith that teaches you to love everyone, even your enemies? Imagine if everyone embraced this philosophy.”

  Antonius turned to her in anger. “Not everyone will. It’s impossible.”

  “With God, all things are possible, but you’re probably right. That’s not what I’m asking. What if I were? What is so bad about such a thing?”

  Antonius began massaging his forehead with his hands. “This religion preaches anarchy.”

  “Rubbish! How can this be so when the scriptures teach that a slave should obey his master?”

  His head snapped up, and he glared at her. “If this were so, why did Sara disobey me and continue to fill your head with such foolish notions?”

  Diana smiled. “Fortunately for me, Sara has a different master.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Antonius returned dryly.

  “Jesus taught His followers to obey the laws of the land, as long as they didn’t conflict with God’s own laws.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve fallen for this!”

  Diana pressed her lips grimly together. “All right, Antonius. I’ll make you a challenge. Find some of the old scrolls of the Jewish prophets. Read them. Study them. Use your mind. Then. . .then your heart will follow.”

  Antonius decided that he was getting nowhere. Maybe she was right. If he could find something in the Jewish scriptures to convince her, she might be more reasonable.

  “All right,” he told her. “I’ll do that, but in the meantime, I want you to keep this quiet. Romans have always hated Jews, and the winds stirring among the people are not favorable to them. I command you to be silent about this. Worship this Jewish God if it brings you pleasure, but do it quietly.”

  “Whatever happened to Roman tolerance of all religions? Is Rome so afraid of the truth?”

  Antonius decided to ignore her. “As for this other matter, I will not have you giving away our food to all the riffraff of this city.”

  “But. . .”

  Getting to his feet, Antonius went to the door and threw it open. “Sara!” he bellowed.

  Sara must have been in the peristyle below, because she came rapidly to his side. “Yes, Tribune?”

  “Come in. I want you to hear what I have to say.”

  Sara followed him inside, glancing with trepidation at Diana’s tense face. He closed the door and leaned his back against it.

  “I was just telling my sister that I refuse to feed the entire poor population of this city.”

  “You called them ‘riffraff,’ I believe,” Diana answered him sarcastically. “Would you consider General Titus to be such?”

  Antonius frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Do you remember General Titus, Antonius?” she asked him quietly.

  “Of course I do. My first command was under him. What does he have to do with this?”

  “He’s one of the ‘riffraff’ I’ve been helping.”

  “That’s not possible! He’s a retired general. Rome takes care of its own.”

  “Not when they’re Christians,” Diana told him quietly and watched the color leave his face. A hurt look came into his eyes, and though Sara felt pity for him, she realized he would not appreciate her concern. She dropped her lashes to hide her feelings.

  Diana got slowly to her feet, holding up her hand imperiously when Antonius and Sara would have rushed to her assistance. She walked slowly, falteringly, across the space to her brother’s side. Touching his arm gently, she lowered her voice placatingly. “Please, Antonius. We have so much. You are willing to give food to marble idols, why not to living people?”

  Antonius stared at her for what seemed an eternity. Sara was not aware she was holding her breath until Antonius sighed, laying his palm gently against Diana’s cheek.

  “Very well,” he told her, and a bright smile broke across Diana’s face, only to vanish a moment later when he continued. “But you will not deliver the goods yourself, and I will not have Sara wandering around that section of the city. Send Trophus.”

  “But. . .”

  “I forbid it, Diana.” For all its quietness, steel threaded his voice.

  Diana set her lips mutinously, giving back glare for glare. It was easy to see the resemblance between brother and sister when they stood thus. Reaching down, Antonius lifted Diana into his arms and carried her back to her couch. Straightening, he stroked a hand down her cheek and turned and walked out of the room.

  ❧

  Antonius entered the bibliotheca where Decimus stood staring out the window. The boy turned at his entrance, his eyes veiled. Clearing his throat, Antonius reached for a scroll that was on his desk. Curling it
, he then placed it carefully in a case and held it out to the boy.

  Decimus stared suspiciously at the container, one eyebrow ascending to his blond hair. “You wish me to deliver this, my lord?” he asked, reaching slowly for the scroll.

  “It’s yours,” Antonius told him shortly. “Your freedom papers.”

  Decimus jerked his hand away, his eyes opening wide. “You are giving me my freedom?” he asked, suddenly suspicious. “Why?”

  Antonius frowned in annoyance. “That’s a stupid question to ask. Take the scroll.”

  “Not so stupid, my lord,” he replied quietly. “Why now?”

  “I want you away from Diana. I don’t want her head filled with your heathenish religion.”

  Decimus shook his head slowly. “You had that scroll prepared before you found out about Diana’s commitment to Christianity.”

  Antonius felt rage begin to bubble inside at the familiar use of Diana’s name. Taking a breath, he tried to regain control.

  “Think carefully, Decimus,” he gritted. “I am offering you your freedom. You can return to your people. Your country. I had it in mind to send you away with enough money to help you get started in your new life. You have served this family well.”

  “And if I don’t wish to leave?”

  The quietly spoken question caused Antonius’s eyes to darken, his face becoming a hard mask.

  “You will not stay here,” he told him ominously. “You can leave here a free man, or you can leave here a slave—but you will leave.”

  Decimus bit his lip in indecision. Antonius was in a towering rage; that was all too clear. Maybe when he calmed down, he would regret this action, but the Lord only knew when, or if, that might be.

  “And what of Sara?” he dared to ask.

  Flames ignited in Antonius’s eyes, and Decimus took a step backward, though Antonius himself had not moved.

  “Sara has nothing to do with you.”

  “I love her,” Decimus told him quietly. “I cannot leave her here. I want to marry her.”

  Decimus sensed more than saw Antonius’s rising anger. He thought he understood, and that understanding gave him the strength to continue. “She is a Christian, too,” he told Antonius reasonably. “Surely you don’t want her around Diana.”