“Her expectations were greater than my intentions.”
“She is very beautiful.”
“Her tongue has the sting of a scorpion.”
“Sell her to me.”
Atretes’ blood went hot. “And waste her on a man who likes fair-skinned women from Britannia?” he said sardonically.
Sertes had seen a flash of fire before Atretes had hidden it. He smiled to himself. Pilia had been a pretty ploy and nothing more. Whatever relationship there had been between Atretes and Rizpah remained. “I can think of a dozen gladiators who would enjoy her company,” he said with a shrug, playing out his game while keeping surreptitious watch on Atretes’ reaction.
“What do you say?” Sertes said, a catlike smile playing on his lips. “Put a price on her.”
The fire within him turned to ice. “Let me think about it,” Atretes said, as though taking Sertes’ offer into consideration. He poured himself more wine. Leaning back, he grinned. “Of course, you’d have to take her squalling brat as well.” He watched Sertes’ eyes carefully and saw them flicker.
Atretes’ mention of the baby startled Sertes. If the child was Atretes’, surely he wouldn’t be so eager to dispose of it? “I forgot she had a baby.”
“Oh, indeed, she has a baby. You saw it on your last visit. She keeps it wrapped in her shawl and tied to her breast. It’s become like a growth on her.”
“I take it the child is the cause for your disaffection,” Sertes said.
“You might say that,” Atretes said dryly.
Pilia entered the triclinium with a tray of delicacies. Her eyes were aglow as she offered her master the tray first. Atretes knew what she was thinking. Were all women such fools? He took a roll of rich pork and dipped it in some honey sauce, forcing himself to eat despite his lack of appetite. Sertes seemed amused.
“Speaking of women,” Sertes said, helping himself to a handful of dates, “people are saying the great Atretes, never defeated by a man in the arena, has been brought low by a daughter of Rome.” There was no mistaking Atretes’ flash of temper now. Good. Atretes’ pride had always been his greatest weakness.
“Who started the rumors, Sertes? You?”
“And come here to tell you about them? I’m not a fool, Atretes, nor am I eager for an early grave. Perhaps the Lady Julia has spoken of you . . . in less than glowing terms?”
“For all I care, the witch can shout whatever she wishes on any street corner in Ephesus!”
“As long as you are left alone to lick your wounds on this mountaintop?”
Atretes looked at him. “Lick my wounds?” he said softly.
Sertes felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at the look in those blue eyes, but sought to prick the gladiator’s pride still further. “Whatever the truth may be, Atretes, that’s how it appears.”
“Even to you?”
Sertes hesitated deliberately. Atretes’ face hardened. The German took up offense as quickly as he had once taken up a sword. “I must admit, I did wonder. Or have you forgotten, I was the one who arranged the purchase of this villa?”
Atretes hadn’t forgotten, nor the reason why he had wanted it. For Julia Valerian.
“Think no more of the rumors,” Sertes said, fully aware that, as desired, he had planted the seed that would cause a tangle of thoughts to grow in Atretes’ mind. He had a warrior’s heart and wouldn’t like the idea of anyone thinking a woman had defeated him. “Rufus Pumponius Praxus sends his regards.”
“Who in Hades is Praxus?” Atretes growled.
“Nephew of the prefect of Rome. He’s holding a feast in honor of Titus’ birthday. You’re invited.”
“Neatly timed, Sertes,” Atretes said and leaned back against the cushions. “I suppose you see this as an opportunity for me to put an end to the talk about me.” Atretes told him what the nephew to the prefect could do with his invitation.
“Praxus is not a man to insult. He could put you back in chains.”
“I earned my freedom.”
“Then don’t throw it to the winds by offending a man with the ear of the emperor and his brother, Domitian.”
At the mention of Domitian, a muscle jerked in Atretes’ jaw.
“Praxus is sickened by these Christians who sing when they die,” Sertes went on. “He’d like nothing better than to hunt them all down and exterminate them.”
“What have I to do with Christians?” Atretes said, knowing full well why Sertes was dropping this information. “The only one I knew was Hadassah, and she’s dead.”
“Then I suggest you keep your distance from any others with whom you might come in contact.”
Atretes thought of Rizpah in the upstairs chamber. If Sertes knew she was a widow, he very likely knew she was a Christian as well.
Sertes saw his warning had sunk in. “Praxus respects you for your courage. You fight with the heart of a lion and he wants to honor you. Let him.” His mouth curved faintly. “Your less than delicate refusal will be taken as an insult.”
“Then tell him the lion is still licking the wounds Rome inflicted on him.”
Annoyed, Sertes rubbed the date still in his hand. “If Praxus even suspected you were encouraging the spread of this cult, he’d have you back in chains with the snap of his fingers.”
Atretes looked at him coldly. “And who says I am?”
Sertes popped the date into his mouth and ate it. Washing it down with wine, he stood. “I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
“When has that ever kept you away?”
Sertes smiled and shook his head. “One day your pride will destroy you, Atretes.”
“Pride is what has kept me alive.” He rose. Draining his goblet, he set it down with a hard thump. “But perhaps you’re right. I’ve been on this mountain too long.” He walked with Sertes through the atrium and into the antechamber. “Say nothing to Praxus for now. I’ll think over his invitation and send you my answer.”
Sertes savored his victory in secret. “Don’t take too long. The feast is in seven days.” A servant opened the front door as they approached. Sertes clasped Atretes’ arm. “You vanquished every foe in the arena, Atretes. It’s time now to know the enemy outside it!”
“I’ll heed your advice,” he said with an enigmatic smile. His eyes grew cold as he watched Sertes walk across the yard, say a few words to Gallus, and go out the gate.
* * *
Rizpah heard something crash against a wall. Startled, she stopped pacing and listened. From the moment the guard had come and told her Sertes had arrived and she was to remain in her bedchamber, she’d closed the door and begun praying.
Atretes shouted something indiscernible. She winced, wondering grimly what had transpired downstairs that had put him in such a foul temper. Not that he was ever in a good one, she thought, with grim amusement.
Someone rapped twice on the door. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the room and unbolted it. Silus stood outside. “Atretes wants to talk with you.”
“Now?” Whatever had occurred downstairs, it appeared she would get the brunt of it.
“He said to leave the baby.”
“In whose care? Yours?”
Silus withdrew a step. “He didn’t say.”
She went back for Caleb. When the baby was settled warm and secure in the wrap of her shawl, she followed Silus out of the large chamber and down the upper corridor. Atretes’ chamber door stood open. She stopped at the threshold. Atretes turned. He saw the baby and swore in German. “I said to leave him!”
“There was no one to tend him, my lord,” she said, not entering the room.
“Where’s the wet nurse?”
“Hilde works in the kitchen now.”
“Not tonight. Get her!” Atretes said, jerking his head at Silus. The sound of the guard’s hobnailed sandals echoed in the upper corridor. Atretes paced, muttering in German. The furs from his bed had been tossed on the floor. He kicked one out of his way.
Hilde arrived breathless and
red faced. Rizpah untied the shawl and laid Caleb in her arms. “He’ll sleep if you put him back in his bed,” Rizpah said and laid a gentle hand on the woman’s arm. “Don’t leave him alone.”
“I won’t, my lady.” She cast a nervous glance in Atretes’ direction and left. Silus stood to one side, allowing her to pass.
“Walk the perimeter,” Atretes snarled at him. “I’d like a word with Lady Rizpah in private.” Silus left her standing alone in the doorway. “Come in and shut the door behind you,” Atretes said in a tone that left no room for argument.
Rizpah obeyed, heart beating fast. Atretes’ agitation could mean only one thing. “Sertes knows about Caleb, doesn’t he?”
“No, but Sertes knows who you are.” He gave a dark laugh. “In fact, he probably knows more about you than I do!”
Rizpah let out her breath in relief. “There’s not much to know. And of what possible interest could a common woman like me be to a man like Sertes?”
“He intends to use you as leverage to get me fighting again.” He noted her look of confusion with growing irritation. His mouth curved cynically. “He thinks you’re my mistress.”
Color poured into her cheeks. “I hope you corrected his misconception, my lord.”
“I told him you had the tongue of a scorpion, which you do. I told him I was tired of you, which I am. He made a generous offer to buy you. I’m considering.”
She blanched. “You’re what?” she said faintly.
“I knew you were a curse on me the moment I laid eyes on you!” German oaths poured forth.
“You can’t sell what you don’t own!” She was trembling violently inside. Had the man gone completely mad?
“You’re a Christian,” he said in accusation.
“You knew of my faith before I came here.”
“It would seem having you in my house makes me suspect to a man who has the power to revoke my freedom.”
She closed her eyes. “Oh.” She let out her breath slowly and looked at him, troubled. She was not going to suggest she leave, for she couldn’t, not without Caleb.
“I’d like to throw you out.”
Biting her lip, she clasped her hands in front of her. Not one word, she told herself. Lord, keep me quiet.
“Unfortunately, if I threw you out, Sertes’ spies would go back and report it. They’d also report that the baby remained here with me. He’d want to know why and he’d figure it out in a bow-snap.”
“O Lord God, protect us,” she murmured, quickly grasping how easily an innocent child could be used by a man as callous as Sertes.
Atretes swore again. “And so, because of you, I’ve got to go pay homage to some bloody Roman aristocrat or end up back in the arena!” His voice rose to a shout, and he kicked over a table and shattered an elegant clay lamp.
Rizpah winced, but remained standing where she was. Father, show me a way. Give me words. What do we do? Her mind suddenly whirled with an appalling, frightening idea. She didn’t even want to speak of it, but it was the only solution that came to her. “You said you wanted to return to Germania.”
He swung around, glaring at her. “I’d have done that months ago except for two things!”
“Your son,” Rizpah said, supplying one with complete understanding. Caleb was only four months old, and travel would be hazardous as well as difficult. “What other reason have you?”
Atretes uttered a short, foul curse and turned his back on her. Thrusting both hands back through his long blonde hair, he went out onto the balcony. Rizpah frowned. Whatever the other reason, it was clear he didn’t want to tell her. He came back inside, his resentment etched in his handsome features.
“It took months to get me to Capua,” he ground out. “Then I was transported to Rome. Sertes made a deal with Vespasian and brought me here. By ship. The journey took weeks.” He laughed almost hysterically. “I’d go back to Germania right now if I knew how to find it!”
She saw how much his admission cost him and answered quickly. “We’ll find out exactly where it is and how to get there.”
Atretes tilted his head, eyes glittering. “We?”
“You said you wouldn’t leave your son behind.”
“I won’t.”
“Where Caleb goes, I go.”
He gave a sharp laugh. “You’d leave Ephesus and all it has to offer,” he said dryly, unconvinced.
“I would rather stay here, yes,” she said frankly. “All I’ve ever heard about Germania doesn’t commend it.” She saw Atretes’ eyes harden as he took offense. “Caleb’s safety is more important than whatever fears I may have about leaving all I know. If Sertes is all you think he is, and I don’t doubt you, he won’t think twice about using an innocent baby in whatever way he can to get at you, would he?”
“No.”
“Then the only way to make sure Caleb is safe is to get him as far away from Sertes as possible.”
His continued scrutiny made her increasingly uncomfortable. What was he thinking? “The journey will cost a great deal of money,” she said.
He laughed grimly. “A fortune, no doubt, and most of what I earned was poured into this villa.” He looked around the room as though seeing it for the first time. “Now I understand why Sertes was so willing to arrange the purchase of this place,” he said darkly. “These walls close me in every bit as tightly as the ludus ever did.”
“You can sell it.”
“Not without him knowing about it, and I doubt I could manage it before Rufus Pumponius Praxus holds his little feast!” He swore in frustration.
“God can accomplish the impossible.”
He gave her a mocking look. “What makes you think your god is going to help me?”
“What convinces you he won’t?” She didn’t wait for his response. “I’ll go and speak with John. He’ll help us.”
“You won’t leave this villa!”
“I must if we’re going to gather the information we need. There are people from every walk of life in the body of Christ. I know of one merchant who has traveled all over the Empire. If anyone can tell us how to find Germania, he can. Perhaps he could provide us with maps to show us the way.” Atretes looked ready to argue, so she plunged ahead.
“Another thing to consider: My leaving could throw doubt on Sertes’ speculations about me and about Caleb. If I leave, with Caleb, might not Sertes assume I don’t mean as much to you as he thought? And you would hardly send me away with a child of yours.”
Atretes frowned, thinking her idea had merit. Yet some niggling doubt remained. “Sertes might have you brought to the ludus for questioning.”
She glanced toward the balcony, troubled by his suggestion. “Is he out there under the terebinth, watching the house?”
“Sertes left. His spies remain.”
She put a trembling hand to her throat, slightly relieved. “Unless he left instructions to bring me to the ludus, I doubt they would act upon their own initiative. They’ll watch and report and await his instructions. By the time they get them, I’ll be back in Ephesus.”
“And within easy reach,” he said, annoyed. “At least one of them will follow you.”
“I’ve been followed before, Atretes. I know how to hide.” She knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say.
Atretes’ eyes narrowed in suspicion. “So,” he said with dangerous softness, “if you’re so good at hiding, how will I find you?” Sneering, he laughed. “You almost had me convinced. I’m not a fool. You think I’ll just hand my son over to you and watch you walk away?”
“Atretes, I give you my word—”
“Your word doesn’t mean dung to me!” He turned away, rubbing the back of his neck in agitation.
She let out her breath, struggling with frustration. He wasn’t going to trust her just because she assured him he could. Trust had to be earned, and there was no time. “Perhaps there’s another way,” she said flatly.
“There’d better be.”
“What if you went to this
feast and appeared to enjoy yourself.”
He turned sharply.
Her exasperation grew. “Or you could go grudgingly, glower at everyone the way you’re glowering at me, and insult this Roman official to his face! That would salve your pride, wouldn’t it? And accomplish everything Sertes has planned for you!”
A muscle jerked in his jaw.
She came toward him, desperate in her appeal. “Atretes, please,” she said. “Set aside your anger for the sake of your son. Think before you do anything.”
Atretes gave a cynical laugh. “Perhaps I’ll tell Sertes I tire of being out here on this mountain and want to live in Ephesus where all the excitement is,” he said sarcastically. “That would please him.” He felt like one of the lions being prodded into the arena. No way back. No escape. Somehow, some way, Sertes would get what he wanted—and he wouldn’t care what he did or who he used to accomplish it!
“Let me go to John,” Rizpah said softly. “He’ll help us.” Atretes said nothing. She came closer and put her hand lightly on his arm. His muscles tensed. She took her hand away. “Please. I’ll learn what I can and send word. I promise, on my life!”
“It would appear I have little choice,” he said grimly.
“I should go as soon as possible,” she said, turning toward the door. “I’ll take enough to make it appear you’ve cast me out.”
Atretes caught hold of her. Whipping her around with one hand, he grasped her neck with the other. “Know this, woman. If I hear nothing from you in two days’ time, I’ll come looking for you. Don’t try to run away with the boy, because if you do, I swear by all the gods in the universe, I’ll use any means, even Sertes, to find you again! And when I do,” he said, his hand tightening slowly, “you’ll wish you’d never been born!” He let go of her as though merely touching her angered him.
Rizpah put a hand to her throat, her breath coming shakily. Tears of reaction filled her eyes. “I know you don’t trust me now, but perhaps when we’ve come through this together, you’ll know you can.”
Frowning, he watched her walk to the door. “Two days,” he repeated.
She went out, closing the door behind her. Heart beating fast, she hurried along the corridor to the bedchamber.
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