“Sentinel was injured.”
Wondering if his son was trying to change the subject, Anticus shrugged, though there was concern in his voice. “He is well?”
Cassius nodded. “Now. Thanks to the woman.”
Anticus slowly leaned back against the couch. “Perhaps it would save time if you just explained.”
So Cassius did, leaving out nothing, not even the fact that Samah was a Christian.
Anticus’s eyes narrowed. “A Christian, you say?” He pressed his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, a habit his son had long since formed. “That’s very interesting. And where is this woman now?”
“At my villa.”
“I would like to meet her.”
The softness of Anticus’s voice was belied by the intensity of his regard. Cassius wondered at the fixed look on his father’s face.
“I will bring her tomorrow,” he told his father. Coming back across the room, he smiled down at Anticus. “Which reminds me. I have business to attend to at home.”
Anticus rose from the couch despite Cassius’s remonstrances. He waved away his son’s offer of help.
“I will look forward to your visit tomorrow. General Trajan will be coming in the afternoon. Perhaps you could come then.”
Cassius smiled. It would be good to see his adopted uncle. “I’ll do that.”
At the end of the walkway, Cassius looked back. His father barely had time to adjust his face into a smiling mask, but Cassius had missed nothing. His father was in pain. Extreme pain. How was it that he had gotten so sidetracked from the inquiries he had been so determined to make? His father had always had the ability to twist a situation to his own advantage, and now Cassius realized that Anticus had done just that. Well, tomorrow he would not find it so easy. Tomorrow he would have his answers.
❧
Samah stroked Sentinel on his head, rubbing her hands against his ears. The dog leaned into her hand. Regardless of what people told her to the contrary, she could swear the beast was smiling.
She seated herself on the edge of the small pool beneath the roof’s opening. Leaning over, she trailed her fingers in the cool water. She could see her reflection and marveled at the change in herself.
Her dark hair hung in a flowing mass down her back, dropping across one shoulder while she continued to gaze into the water. The soft yellow tunic clung to her figure, giving her more the shape of a nubile young woman than an emaciated slave. Although her figure could not be considered as yet fulsome, she had filled out more in the last few weeks supping at Cassius’s table than in the past few years. Frowning at the thought, she realized that she was less than pleased with the idea.
Glancing down at her bare foot, her gaze skimmed briefly over where her other foot should have been. Not for the first time in her life, she wished she were completely whole. Sighing, she smiled at the dog.
“You don’t care that I’m missing a foot, do you? Would that all people everywhere had such blindness where faults are concerned.”
Sentinel whined, coming to instant attention when he heard a sound at the front door. When it opened to allow Cassius to enter, the dog was beside his master in an instant. Samah noticed the wagging tail and realized that she was just as happy to see Cassius. There was absolutely no reason she should be, but the feeling was there nonetheless.
Cassius glanced at her briefly, and then again, much longer. He straightened slowly, taking in her changed appearance. A sudden veil seemed to shutter his face. Before he could say anything, Democritus entered the room.
“Welcome home, my lord.” His eyes briefly scanned Cassius. “I see you made use of your father’s bath. Shall I tell Argon that you won’t be needing him?”
“Please do. Has Justinian arrived yet?”
“No, master. He sent word that he could not make it until later this evening.”
Cassius nodded, going to the doorway that led into another room. “When he arrives, send him to me here.” He glanced at Samah. “Come with me.”
Lifting herself with her crutch, Samah followed him into the room, gasping at the beautiful murals painted on the walls. The room was lavishly furnished, with statues of various gods littered about it. She quickly turned her face away, but not before Cassius noticed.
He sat on a couch and indolently reclined back among the cushions. “You disapprove?”
Samah didn’t know what to say. She felt Cassius watching her, and turning, she found her gaze captured by his. When his eyes slowly traveled over her, she felt her stomach constrict in alarm. Why she should suddenly feel threatened she couldn’t understand. If Cassius had wanted to take advantage of her, he had already had plenty of opportunity to do so. Still, her body grew rigid under his careful inspection.
Democritus entered the room, dispelling some of the tension. He handed Cassius a marble box inlaid with petals of gold. After he left the room, Cassius lifted the lid.
“Come here.” His soft command brought back all the fear Samah had been trying to keep at bay. Hesitating, she saw his brow rise once again. He awaited her compliance, and she could tell that he wondered what she was thinking.
Taking her courage into hand, she crossed to his side and stood looking down at him. His dark-eyed gaze was void of any emotion.
“Sit here.”
Following his pointing finger, Samah dropped gracefully to the floor before him. He lifted a golden bracelet from the box and reached for her arm. It was in that instant that she recognized the jewelry for what it was. A slave bracelet.
He fastened it upon her upper arm, his warm fingers staying wrapped just below the band.
“It says that you belong to me.” The oddly possessive note in his voice sent the fear cascading through her once more. “No one will bother you now. The band has my insignia upon it.”
He released her, watching the relief she couldn’t disguise. She bowed her head, awaiting further instructions.
“Have you eaten?”
The abrupt question brought Samah’s head jerking upwards. She shook her head slightly. “I believe Democritus wasn’t quite certain what to do with me,” she told him ruefully.
Cassius smiled wryly. “Probably not. There has never been a woman servant in my home.”
Surprised, Samah could only stare. A host of questions passed through her mind, but she knew it was not her place to ask them. She lowered her gaze to the floor, still waiting for Cassius to make his wishes known to her.
He leaned forward suddenly, lifting her chin with his hand. When his eyes met hers, she was caught by the fierceness of his look.
“Do you miss Palestine?”
Her eyes searched his for the reasoning behind his question. Did he really care what she felt?
“Yes,” she answered softly. “I miss my family most of all.” Remembering the fruit vendor’s words, she thought about the Christian family waiting for her here in Rome. She had only to find them. The thought quieted her escalating fear.
Cassius allowed his fingers to trail down her throat, watching the panic return to her so expressive eyes. He turned away from her, banging the gong next to him.
When Democritus answered his summons, he told his servant to take Samah and give her something to eat. Surprised, the Greek exchanged looks with Samah.
“Come with me.”
Cassius halted them at the door. “When she is finished, return her here. Justinian should be here by then.”
Bowing, Democritus led Samah away. She followed him along the corridors until they reached the kitchen. A residue of smoke still hung in the air from the preparation of an earlier meal. Since there was no ventilation other than the door, it would take hours for all the smoke to dissipate from the room.
Samah seated herself at the wooden table, watching Democritus confer with the cook. Both men looked at her, the cook’s eyes gliding over Samah in an offensive manner.
“You say she is a servant here now?” His look fastened on the slave bracelet.
Democr
itus shrugged. “I’m not quite certain what her role is. But the master said give her something to eat, and I wouldn’t do it sparingly.”
The cook didn’t miss the subtle warning. He nodded briefly. “As you wish.”
Democritus left the room, and a heavy silence fell. Samah could sense the cook’s dislike of her and wondered what she had done to cause it. Lifting innocent eyes to his face, she asked him outright.
Seemingly surprised at her forthrightness, he looked nonplused for a moment. Bringing a tin bowl of fruit, he dropped it on the table in front of her. Glaring down at her, he shrugged his shoulders and turned away.
Samah refused to be daunted by his snub. She picked at the grapes, watching the cook as he cleaned his kitchen. He glanced at her briefly but quickly turned away.
“My name is Samah.”
Manners dictated a reply to the brief statement. Taking a clay pot from a shelf on the wall, the cook answered her gruffly.
“Cleopas.”
Emboldened by this brief success, Samah finished the fruit in the bowl and brought the container to Cleopas. “Is there some way I can help?” she asked quietly.
Cleopas looked at her a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “No. Democritus said that you are to return to the master.”
Samah nodded, turning to the door. “Thank you for the food,” she told him politely and saw his eyebrows lift a fraction. He said nothing when she left the room.
After following her way back through the hallway, Samah stood hesitating in the atrium. Should she just walk into the other room, or should she wait until she was summoned? It occurred to her that she should have waited for Democritus’s return.
As though in answer to a summons, Democritus appeared beside her.
“Come.”
Samah waited until he knocked on the door and received permission to enter before going past him into the room. She stood just inside the doorway, noticing that another man had joined Cassius. He must be the carpenter Cassius had summoned. Not knowing what else to do, Samah stood frozen to the spot.
Cassius glanced up at her. “Come here.”
Having used a crutch all of her life, Samah moved with uncommon grace across the room.
“Justinian, this is the woman I was talking to you about.”
The carpenter looked at Samah with pity. She pulled back in surprise when Justinian moved to kneel before her. Glancing at Cassius in alarm, she calmed slightly when he told her, “Be still and allow Justinian to see your leg.”
Disconcerted, Samah stood quietly while Justinian lifted her tunic to see her leg. She was surprised when he pulled a wax tablet from his pouch, and using a stylus to write, he jotted down notes to himself.
Cassius was watching Samah. “Do you think you can do it, Justinian?”
The carpenter got to his feet. “It will be a challenge, but, yes, I think I can do it.”
Samah looked from one to the other, still embarrassed.
Cassius handed the carpenter a coin. “Let me know when you are finished, and I will see that you receive your full payment.”
Justinian bowed slightly. “Thank you, my lord.”
After he left, Cassius came to stand beside Samah. He looked down at her and smiled, a smile that did funny things to her insides.
“Hopefully, you will be able to walk without a crutch before long.”
Mouth parted in surprise, Samah tried to read his expression. What exactly did he mean by that?
“And then,” he said smoothly, “we will talk of repayment.”
SIX
Samah followed Cassius through his father’s house, Sentinel traipsing at her heels. Cassius stopped suddenly in the doorway leading to the peristyle, and curious to see what had stopped him, she moved to the side until she could see around him.
Anticus stood leaning heavily against the stone fountain in the center of the garden, his right hand clutching his toga against his chest. Pain lined his features, leaving him looking gray and drawn. Glancing at Cassius, she saw his mouth turn down into a frown.
“Father,” he called softly.
Startled, the older man whirled to face them.
“Cassius.” He looked disconcerted for a moment, but quickly composed his features. “Come in. Come in.”
Cassius refused to be deterred any longer. His questions would be answered. He opened his mouth to say so, when his father suddenly looked past him and smiled.
“You must be Samah,” he said, holding out his hand to-wards her.
Samah responded to Anticus’s gentle courtesy like a flower responding to the sun. Her own returning smile reflected her feelings. Moving past Cassius, she took the outstretched hand offered her.
“Welcome, my dear,” Anticus greeted, pulling Samah forward and seating her on the bench next to the fountain. He took the seat beside her, his dark eyes studying her face. When Sentinel took his place near her, a look of surprise crossed the older man’s face.
Cassius stood watching the scene with mixed feelings. What was there about this woman that could so instantly bring someone under her spell? In truth, he had thought of seeking out a soothsayer to see if by divination the woman was truly some kind of witch. The things he had heard about Christians left him little doubt that there was something odd in these people.
He worried about Samah’s continued influence over Sentinel. Would she one day be able to make the dog attack and perhaps kill him? And for that matter, what about his own feelings where the woman was concerned? He was beginning to look for reasons to be near her, and when he was away from her, she so often intruded into his thoughts that he was distracted from his work.
Anticus looked up. “Come join us, Cassius.”
Cassius crossed to them, seating himself on the edge of the fountain. Lifting a dry flower petal from the ground, he began to crumple it into a thousand pieces, trying to think of some way to broach the subject closest to his heart.
“Father, you are not well.” Cassius’s voice was rough with his feelings. He didn’t know what else to say, what else to ask.
“Crastus told you, no doubt,” his father agreed heavily.
“Only. . .only that you have so little time.” Cassius went down on one knee before his father. Anxiety radiated from his dark eyes, so like the older man’s looking back at him.
Anticus took his son’s hand between his two smaller ones. His concerned face mirrored his son’s love.
“Cassius, we all have to die some time. I have had a good life, the best that a man could have. That a man could have two chances at happiness in the same lifetime is beyond comprehension. Both my wife, Drusilla, and you have made that possible.” His voice grew ragged. “I have been truly blessed.”
Samah felt a lump come to her throat. Seeing the love between the two men left her yearning for her own family. Her heart ached with the longing to be held in her father’s arms again, to feel her mother’s gentle goodnight kiss. It had been over three years since the beginning siege of Jerusalem, and she had been trapped in the city without her family. Save Ramoth. And he had been arrested soon after their arrival.
“We’ll get you the finest physicians available,” Cassius told him sharply. “I have never been that impressed with Phlegon.”
Anticus smiled sadly. “Nothing will change the will of God.”
Surprised, Cassius looked up. “Which god?”
Anticus looked at his son, a closed expression coming over his face. He turned away from Cassius’s probing gaze.
“Cassius, regardless of incantations or potions, I am going to die. I have accepted that. Now you must, also.”
Cassius got to his feet, angrily brushing a hand back through his hair. “I refuse to accept that.” His voice grew scathing. “And you should, also. One of Rome’s finest giving up without even a fight!”
Samah watched the two men warily. Though Anticus was not Cassius’s true father, it didn’t show in their attitudes. Both were stubborn to a fault.
She caught Anticus’s e
ye, and frowned. There was a look in his eyes that left her feeling suddenly defenseless.
“Cassius,” he said, “why don’t you find Hector for me. I sent him to Castor’s house next door.”
Cassius frowned, glancing from his father to Samah. That his father wanted him out of the way went without saying, but he refused to go quietly.
“Send one of the servants,” he argued stubbornly.
“They are busy,” Anticus answered smoothly. His pleading eyes lifted to his son’s. Sighing with resignation, Cassius strode from the garden, Sentinel trotting after him.
Anticus waited until his son was out of earshot before turning to Samah.
“Cassius tells me that you are a Christian.”
There was something in his voice that caused Samah’s heart to start pounding. This man was a general of Rome. Though he was retired, he obviously still held much power. Yet, there was something about him.
“I am,” she agreed softly.
His eyes lit with laughter. “Of all the ways to answer my prayers, that God would choose to do it this way!”
Confused, Samah hesitantly asked, “To which god are you referring?”
His smile broadened. “Why to our God of course. The one you call Jehovah. The one and only true God.”
Samah sat staring at him in stunned amazement. “Are you a God-fearer?” she asked, referring to the name given to proselyte Gentiles who chose to be Jewish without obeying the Jewish dictates of diet and circumcision.
“No, no, my dear!” He took her hand, squeezing slightly. ‘I am a Christian.”
Samah’s mind was numb. “I. . .I don’t understand. Cassius. . .” Her voice trailed off.
Anticus’s lips pressed tightly together. “My son doesn’t yet know. I found the truth while he was away in Palestine.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “Strange, isn’t it, how I found the Savior when my son went to destroy His people.” He smiled at her again. “And God sent you to me just when I needed you. Oh, how I have prayed for Him to send someone to teach my son about Jesus.”
Samah struggled to stand, pulling her crutch up with her. She couldn’t sit still. She moved away from Anticus and stood staring down into the rippling flow of the fountain. The sound of the water spewing from the fish’s mouth to the pool beneath was oddly soothing.
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