An Echo in the Darkness

by Francine Rivers

  He is in love with her! he thought, stunned by the realization. And he doesn’t care who sees it.

  “You left without saying good-bye,” Marcus said, his voice soft again. “To Lavinnia or Iulius. Or even to Mother.”

  “I’m sorry.” She could hardly breathe past the racing of her heart.

  “Were you running from me?”

  She lowered her head, unable to look at him.

  “Mother tried to tell me you were alive, but I didn’t understand.”

  “I thought it best you didn’t know.”

  “Why, Hadassah?” His voice broke. “Did you think I had anything to do with what happened? Did you think I knew Julia sent you to the arena?”

  Too filled with confusing emotions, Hadassah shook her head, silent. Love for him washed over her at the desperate sadness in his voice—but loving him made staying so much more difficult.

  “I swear to you I didn’t know you’d been sent to the arena. As God is my witness, I didn’t know until I was sitting in the stands with Julia and—” He broke off, his face convulsing at the memory.

  Alexander glanced at Rashid.

  “When I saw you, there was nothing I could do,” Marcus rasped. “I’d been sitting with Julia for hours, drinking wine, laughing at Primus’ crude jokes, pretending to enjoy myself because I wanted to forget you.” He gave a harsh, self-deprecating laugh. “Then the Christians were being brought out to face the lions.” He drew a ragged breath, seeing himself as he had been, ashamed.

  “I’d watched people die all day long without feeling anything, but I couldn’t watch Christians die. I knew any one of them could have been you.” He gave a bleak sigh. “I excused myself to buy more wine. I wanted to get drunk and forget. Julia stopped me. She said she had a surprise for me. She said she’d done something that would set everything right again. When I saw the look in her eyes, I knew.” Hadassah could see the pain of that realization still reflected on his face, in his tormented eyes. “Oh, God, I knew in my soul what she had done, but I didn’t want to believe it! Then I saw you. You walked away from the rest into the center of the arena. Do you remember? You stood alone.” His face contorted again with remembered anguish.

  He came closer, wishing he could see through the veils, wishing he could see her eyes and know what she was thinking. “Do you believe me, or do you still think I was part of it?”

  “I believe you.”

  “But you’ve been afraid, unsure what I might do if I found out you lived.”

  She shook her head.

  “Others feared for you,” he said, his gaze sweeping Alexander and Rashid. “They were right to fear for you. Julia might have sent you back in the beginning.”

  “I knew that.”

  “But you didn’t know what I would do,” he said sadly. “Did you?” When she said nothing, he thought he had assumed correctly. “Do you remember telling me once that you prayed God would open my eyes? He did, Hadassah. With holy vengeance. I saw that day. Everything. I saw Julia and her friends and myself as though a lamp had been lit in a dark room and everything was suddenly illuminated.” He clenched his fist.

  “When the lion took you down, I felt my own life go out of me. Everything that meant anything—everything that mattered—was stripped away, like dust before a wind. I blamed Julia. I blamed myself. I blamed Jesus.”

  Alexander did not move from Hadassah’s side. Marcus looked at him and knew he loved her, too. It had been this man who had taken care of her when she had needed help most. For a moment, Marcus’ pride told him he should leave now and let Hadassah stay with Alexander. Why bare his soul only to be rejected? But he couldn’t leave. Whatever feelings were between Hadassah and the physician, Marcus had to tell her everything, his pride be cursed.

  He drew a calming breath and went on. “I went to Palestine to curse God because I thought he had abandoned you as I had. I went because I loved you. I still love you.”

  Alexander frowned. Glancing down, he saw how Hadassah trembled. Yet when Marcus reached out to touch her, she withdrew. What held her distant from the man? Was it fear? Or was it something else?

  Rashid was frowning as well, troubled and embarrassed by Valerian’s passionate appeal. The Roman had no shame in laying his heart before a woman. Yet that very fact made one thing glaringly clear: This man could have had no part in sending Hadassah to the arena. He would sooner have faced the lions himself.

  Silence fell in the courtyard, a hush that trembled.

  Alexander let his breath out slowly, his mouth curving ruefully. He met Marcus’ eyes, then stepped back. “We’ll leave you alone with her.”

  Reluctantly, Rashid slipped his knife back into his belt.

  Hadassah clutched Alexander’s arm. “Please, don’t go,” she whispered.

  He put his hand over hers. “You know I love you,” he said softly, “but you’d better hear him out and decide what it is you really want.”

  “It won’t change anything,” she said tearfully. “It can’t.”

  “Can’t? Have you forgotten your own claim, Hadassah? God can accomplish the impossible.” He touched her veils tenderly. “Is it God’s will at work that holds you back, or your own?” When she didn’t answer, he took her hand. “You’d better find out.” Kissing her palm, he released her and motioned to Rashid.

  Her heart thumped madly as Alexander and Rashid left the room. Marcus stood looking down at her with an intensity that made her senses swim.

  “I love you,” he said again. “I loved you then and I love you now. Don’t you realize that I began falling in love with you all over again, even when I thought you were someone else, someone called Azar.”

  She felt weak. “You honor me, Marcus,” she said tremulously, tears burning her eyes.

  “Honor,” he said. “A hollow word when it’s love I want.”

  Her stomach tightened.

  “I didn’t know what forgiveness was until you unveiled yourself to Julia,” he said heavily. “When I accepted Christ in Galilee, I felt forgiven, but it took you to teach me what it means to forgive.” Would she forgive him for not protecting her?

  “I didn’t teach you, Marcus. God taught you.”

  “You were his instrument. You have always been the light in my household, even when you were so afraid of me you shook. I should have taken you from Julia’s villa that day, no matter what you said.”

  “And then what would have become of us? What would have become of her?” God’s timing had been perfect.

  He heard the tears in her voice and came the last few steps separating them. Heart pounding, he handed her the small scroll. Her hand trembled as she took it. She kept her head down. “I asked you to marry me once and you refused. You said it was because I didn’t believe in God. I believe now, Hadassah.”

  “That was long ago, Marcus.”

  “It was yesterday for me.”

  She stepped away from him. “I’m not the same girl.” She was trembling all over, her knees weak. She wanted him to leave . . . but if he did, she thought she would die.

  “Tell me you don’t love me, Hadassah. Tell me straight out that you don’t feel anything for me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

  She blinked back tears. “I love you as a Christian brother.”

  He brushed his fingers lightly against the veil, and she jerked away. “Swear to me, it’s only that.”

  “Christians don’t swear to anything.”

  “Then say it plainly. Tell me you don’t love me as I love you.”

  She shook her head, unable to speak.

  “I want to marry you, Hadassah. I want to have children with you. I want to grow old with you.”

  She closed her eyes. “Don’t say any more, please. I can’t marry you.”

  “Why not?”

  “You will marry, but you won’t marry someone like me, Marcus. You’ll marry a beautiful young girl from Jericho.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and felt her tense. “There’s only one woman I’ve
ever wanted to marry. You. There’s only one woman I ever will marry. You.”

  “Taphatha is in love with you.”

  “She thinks she is,” he said without arrogance. “She’ll get over it.”

  She turned and looked up at him. “You must reconsider. She’s beautiful and kind and she loves the Lord.”

  “I already told Ezra no. Bartholomew is far better suited to be Taphatha’s husband.”

  “Bartholomew?”

  “A young man who followed them from Jericho. Ezra wouldn’t consider him before because Bartholomew’s father is a Greek.” He laughed softly. “I reminded him I’m a Roman.”

  “It doesn’t matter now that you’re in Christ. We are all one. . . .”

  “Bartholomew is a Christian. He’s Ezra’s second convert. Ezra just needs to put aside old prejudices. The boy loves Taphatha the way I love you.” He touched her veils, and she stepped back, turning away from him. He frowned slightly.

  “Hadassah, do you remember when I asked you to marry me the first time? You said you couldn’t be yoked to an unbeliever. You said I was stronger than you. You were afraid I’d pull you away from God. Do you remember?”

  “I remember.” She had told him her desire to please him would eventually become more important than pleasing God.

  “We’ll pull together now, Hadassah. I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

  She had yearned to hear him speak those words. She had prayed unceasingly for it over the past years. She had set her heart upon them long ago in the garden of the Roman villa. And now she couldn’t speak past the tears choking her.

  “You were in love with me then,” Marcus said. “I felt it every time I touched you. And I felt it again the other day when we were sitting in the alcove and I took your hand.” He saw the soft fluttering of the veil with each breath she took, and his heart began to beat faster. “Let me see you.”

  “No!” she said in anguish and pressed the veils to her face, turning away from him. “No!”

  He knew then what held her back.

  “Is that what keeps you from me? Your scars?” He turned her around firmly and took her wrists, forcing her hands down.

  “Marcus, no!”

  “Do you think it matters to me?”

  “Please, don’t!”

  Ignoring her protest, he removed the veils and let them drop carelessly to the floor. Weeping, Hadassah turned her face away. He caught her chin and forced her head up so he could look at her. She closed her eyes tightly.

  “Oh, beloved.” The wounds had been deep, the scars running from her forehead to her chin and throat. Releasing her wrists, he touched her face tenderly, tracing the mark of the lion. “You are beautiful.” He cupped her head in his hands and kissed her forehead, her cheek, her chin, her mouth. “You are beautiful.”

  She opened her eyes as he drew back slightly, and he looked into them. What she saw melted all resistance, removed all shame.

  “You are more beautiful to me than any woman in the world,” he said huskily, “and more precious than all the gold of a thousand ships.” He kissed away the tears on her cheeks and lowered his mouth to cover hers. When she relaxed in his arms, he drew her closer. When her arms slid around him, he thought he had entered heaven.

  “Oh, Hadassah,” he said, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her. He drew back trembling and combed his fingers into her hair. “Marry me,” he said. “Marry me now.”

  She smiled up at him, eyes shining through her tears. Once again God had brought her face-to-face with her greatest fear: Marcus had seen her face. He had seen her scars. And the love in his eyes had only grown more tender.

  Oh, God, what a wonder you are! her heart cried out in gladness as she spoke the words she had longed to speak to Marcus for years.

  “I will marry you, my lord.”

  He laughed, drinking in the love in her eyes. “Oh, beloved,” he said, caressing her face. “I feel the way I did when I rose from the Sea of Galilee.” The joy he had felt then poured over him in wave upon wave. Tears wet his cheeks, and he didn’t even know he was crying. “I missed you. I have missed you as if half of myself had been torn away.”

  She reached up and touched his face in wonder. “As I have missed you.”

  He kissed her again, his desire for her as intense as it had ever been, even stronger, growing. He loved the smooth, silky texture of her skin. He loved the look in her eyes when he touched her, a reflection of the wonder and pleasure he felt. Love filled him so full that the spirit within him sang in celebration. And he knew it was a gift—a gift from a loving Father who had been waiting for him to come home.

  The echo in the darkness had not been Hadassah’s voice at all but God’s, calling out to him, never letting him go.

  O Lord, Lord, what a wondrous thing you’ve done. You’ve given me the desire of my heart. Me, the least deserving of men. O Lord God, my God, your love amazes me. O Abba, I love you. I thank you. Christ Jesus, Father, I will praise and worship you for as long as I draw breath upon this earth, and beyond that, on my knees before your throne in heaven.

  He pressed Hadassah to his chest, his heart overflowing. At last . . . at long last, he was home.

  EPILOGUE

  Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place. (Revelation 2:4-5, NIV)

  The marriage of Marcus Lucianus Valerian and Hadassah, free woman, conducted and blessed by the apostle John, had the people of Ephesus talking for months. After all, when was the last time the heir of one of Rome’s greatest merchant families married a former Jewish slave? And when had present and retired generals and proconsuls socialized openly with dockworkers, former slaves, and ex-prostitutes? For that is what Marcus had commanded at the end of the ceremony: that his slaves be freed and that they be invited to join in the wedding celebration with all the other guests.

  Hadassah, radiant with joy, stood beside Marcus and pledged him her life and her love. Those standing near enough to see her face could not help but be stirred by the love shining there. Two such people were Alexander and Rashid. And though Alexander’s heart felt strangely empty as he watched Hadassah and Marcus joined together, he was content to know Hadassah was happy. Soon after the wedding, Alexander closed his practice and volunteered his services to a Roman legion that was to sail for Britannia. He sent a brief note of farewell to Hadassah . . . and never returned to Ephesus.

  As for Rashid, immediately after the wedding, he disappeared. There were those who reported, much later, that Rashid had returned to Syria, married, and raised a family. Others, however, were certain that, from time to time, they saw an Arab in the shadows of Ephesus, near Marcus and Hadassah’s home, watching those who came and went, surreptitiously guarding Hadassah and her family. And family there was, for Hadassah and Marcus were blessed with seven sons and three daughters! All of whom brought unending joy to Phoebe during the last few years of her life. But Phoebe could not deny her special love for one granddaughter in particular: a beautiful, laughing, dark-eyed little girl whom her parents named Julia.

  As persecution of Christians intensified, John was exiled to the island of Patmos. Marcus began using all of his political and financial connections to protect his family. When he laid his mother to rest, he breathed a prayer of thanks that she was free from the coming strife. Before long, he added a new cargo to his ships: fugitive Christians who needed transport to safety.

  With each passing day, the church in Ephesus backslid more and more into worldly doctrine and practices. Finally the Lord came to John and revealed the future to him. John warned Ephesus in his written Revelation what would happen if they did not repent and return to their initial love of and devotion to the Lord.

  Marcus, who had been spending increasing time in prayer with Hadassah, awoke one morning with a clear message in his hea
rt and mind: Leave. Without hesitation, he liquidated all the family assets in Ionia, loaded Hadassah and the children on board his finest ship, and, with a handpicked crew, set sail. No one ashore knew their destination.

  Within two centuries, in 262, Ephesus fell. What had been the second most powerful city in the Roman Empire was destroyed by Goths, and even the Artemision, one of mankind’s Seven Wonders of the World, was burned and razed. To this day, only scattered ruins remain of a once glorious cosmopolitan city.

  The Lord had removed the lampstand.

  As Sure as the Dawn

  Rizpah turned and saw Atretes striding toward her. She knew he was angry. Everything about him exuded his foul mood. Shifting the baby in her arms, she sighed. What had she done to displease him now?

  Lord, will I ever do what is right in this man’s eyes?

  When he reached her, she saw his blue eyes glittering dangerously. “You’re not to leave the villa unless I order you to do so!”

  “You wish to make your son a prisoner, my lord?” she said, striving for calm.

  “I wish to protect him!”

  “As do I, Atretes. I’m within the walls.”

  “You will stay in the villa!”

  “What possible harm can come to Caleb out here? You have guards—”

  “Woman, you will do as I say!”

  Her hackles rose at his imperious tone. The man was impossible. She was not his servant, and she did not intend to be treated as such. She had never taken well to being commanded to obedience. Stephen had always dealt with her in a more gentle fashion than this thick-headed German. Would that her husband were still alive.

  “If you are reasonable,” she told him in icy tones, “I will obey. In this case, you aren’t!”

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Press me and I’ll throw you right out that gate.”

  She looked straight back at him. “No, you will not.”

  Hot color flooded his face. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because you’re as concerned for Caleb’s good health as I. I am the only mother he has known, and he needs me. Besides, I don’t know why you’re so incensed, Atretes. You watched me walk Caleb around the yard yesterday and the day before and had no objections. Today you look like a melon ready to burst.”