Captive Heart (Truly Yours Digital Editions)

by Darlene Mindrup

  Cassius turned back to Anticus, fear radiating from his dark gaze. Anticus had always been his father, the one who loved and cared for him. Though he knew that Anticus was not his blood father, it had never made a difference in his feelings for the older man. Would such a revelation fracture the bond that had always existed between them?

  As though he could read Cassius’s mind, Anticus smiled reassuringly. His own eyes shone with a love that nothing could sever. Somewhat satisfied, Cassius awaited Anticus’s explanation.

  Anticus focused his unwavering gaze on Trajan, an imploring look in his eyes.

  “My friend, I never wished to deceive you.”

  Brushing both hands slowly through his hair, Trajan held his head between his palms and studied Anticus.

  “How can this be true?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  Slightly embarrassed, Anticus looked quickly at Samah before flushing a bright red. He returned his gaze to Trajan.

  “Perhaps you don’t even remember Cassius’s mother. She was the wife of General Florian.”

  Startled, Trajan straightened. “I remember her,” he disagreed huskily. “I didn’t know she was married at the time. When I found out, I left.”

  Anticus nodded. “Indeed. You left shortly thereafter for a post in Jerusalem, and Callista found out she was pregnant with your child.”

  Trajan’s lips parted slowly, his tongue brushing his suddenly dry lips. “I never knew.”

  Again, Anticus nodded. “Callista told me the father of her child and promised me to silence. I know I shouldn’t have agreed, but she was desperate.”

  Cassius felt Trajan’s look, and turned slowly to face him.

  “I can’t believe it. Cassius is my son.”

  Cassius couldn’t believe it either, but after careful contemplation of the other man, he could see similarities that he hadn’t really thought about before. The thought of being an illegitimate child, though, left a sour taste in his mouth. But would it be better to be legitimate and rejected? He smiled without mirth.

  “I have always thought of you as a man any other man would be proud to claim as father, and I have always been pleased to call you my uncle, but this is something I need to think about.”

  Rising to his feet, he motioned to Samah. She quickly got up, steadying herself with her crutch.

  “Wait!”

  Trajan rose to his feet also, standing almost toe-to-toe with Cassius. “We need to talk.”

  Cassius shook his head, his mouth set grimly. “No, now is not the time. My father,” he said with intent, glancing at Anticus wryly, “has given me much to think about today. I need to be alone.”

  “When can we talk, then?”

  Taking Samah by the arm, Cassius began to walk away. Without looking at Trajan he replied, “I’ll let you know.”

  Cassius maintained a brooding silence as they walked along the streets. Darkness had descended, and the carts and wagons were making their way through the city streets to the markets to unload their supplies for the morning. A watchman passed them, his alert soldier eyes searching for anything improper.

  Samah longed to offer Cassius some kind of comfort, some kind of counsel, but she could think of nothing to say.

  There was something about the man Trajan that bothered her. His eyes continually strayed her way the whole time they were in the room together. It caused the hair to prickle on the back of her neck.

  Democritus met them in the atrium. “My lord, Justinian is awaiting you in the peristyle.”

  Frowning, Cassius snapped, “Now?”

  Surprised, Democritus took a hasty step backwards. “I’m sorry, my lord, but he thought you were in a hurry.”

  Sighing, Cassius looked at Samah. “Come with me.”

  She followed him in silence. When they entered the garden, Justinian turned from his contemplation of the fountain in its center. He smiled.

  “Ah, my lord, you’ve returned. I hope it was all right with you that I waited here. Democritus seemed to think that you would return soon.”

  Cassius unhooked his cape from his chest piece and dropped it on a marble bench. “I hope you haven’t had to wait too long.”

  Justinian made a disparaging gesture. “Not at all.”

  Motioning for Samah to be seated next to his cape, Cassius turned to Justinian. “What do you have to show me? I must say, it didn’t take you long.”

  Chuckling, Justinian carefully removed a leather thong from a pouch. “It was a challenge. I couldn’t sleep for thinking about it.”

  He took a block of wood shaped somewhat like a foot from the same bag. Kneeling before Samah, he glanced at Cassius first for permission. Cassius nodded for him to continue, watching with interest as Justinian placed Samah’s leg into the top portion of the wood piece. A piece of lamb’s wool was fit into the hollowed out surface of the wood, and Justinian placed Samah’s leg there. Her leg slid smoothly into the groove, fitting snugly. Justinian then took the leather thong and wrapped it around the whole piece, much like any other sandal.

  When he finished, he sat back on his haunches and glanced up at Samah.

  “Stand up,” he commanded.

  Easing herself to her feet, Samah stood for the first time evenly with both appendages on the ground. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she smiled brightly at Justinian.

  “Try to walk,” he told her calmly.

  Hesitantly, she moved the encased foot forward, then pulled her good foot forward to meet it. Though it was awkward, she was able to maintain her balance without the crutch.

  Cassius stood watching her silently, his arms crossed over his chest. He caught Samah’s eye.

  “Well,” he asked. “What do you think?”

  “I. . .I don’t know what to say.”

  “Can you use it?”

  She took several more steps, and though the fitted piece was awkward, it gave her more freedom of movement than the crutch. She assumed she would grow accustomed to it in time, just as she had her crutch.

  Smiling shyly from Cassius to Justinian, she told them, “It’s a marvelous invention.”

  Justinian beamed at them both. “Does it meet with your approval, my lord?” he inquired at length.

  Cassius gave him a brief smile. “I knew if anyone could do it, it would be you, Justinian.” The carpenter’s chest puffed out proudly at the honest praise. “Come with me, and I will get your payment.” He turned to Samah. “Wait here.”

  Samah seated herself on the marble bench, stroking Sentinel’s massive head. What Cassius had done for her was a marvelous thing. She felt a thrill of happiness at being able to walk unencumbered by a crutch. She wondered why he would bother to do such a thing. Alerted to his return by the dog’s attentive posture, she smiled shyly when he came through the door.

  Though Cassius seemed pleased with his gift, it was obvious that his mind was on other matters. As for herself, Samah was reluctant to mention his comments about repayment. She had no money to give him, and her mind balked at payment of any other kind.

  Cassius came and stood before her. Samah had to look a long way up into his face.

  “I was hoping the sandal would give you more freedom of movement. Try it for a few days, and if things work well, I would very much like it if you would take Sentinel for walks around the city, much like you did in Caesarea.”

  She blinked wide eyes at him. “Is this the. . .the payment you spoke of?”

  One corner of his mouth tilted slightly, and there was a devilish sparkle in his eyes. “Of course. What did you think I meant?”

  Disconcerted, Samah ducked her head in embarrassment. “I had no idea, Tribune.”

  Cassius smiled at the rosy color flooding her cheeks. Her dark brown hair tumbled around her face, hiding her features from him. Wanting to see her face, he dropped to one knee before her.

  “Samah,” he entreated softly. “Look at me.”

  She had a hard time doing as he suggested. Finally, she lifted her eyes to his. He reached out a
nd traced a finger slowly down the creamy skin of her cheek.

  “You have nothing to fear from me. I will not hurt you.”

  Looking into his handsome face, it suddenly occurred to her that he could hurt her in ways he was totally unaware of. She knew with quick insight that she loved him as she had never loved any other. Swallowing hard, she dropped her eyes to the floor.

  Cassius studied her a long time before rising slowly to his feet. He hadn’t missed the softening of Samah’s features, and he felt his heart beating more rapidly in response. He had seen that look before, and knew with certainty that Samah was infatuated with him. For the first time in his memory, he found himself reluctant to hurt a woman.

  “Take some time and get used to the shoe. There are things I need to attend to.”

  “Are you going to speak to your father?”

  Seeing his darkening expression, she realized she shouldn’t have spoken.

  “What I do is of no concern of yours,” he told her coldly. “I’m leaving Sentinel with you. See that he is fed.”

  “Yes, Tribune.”

  Cassius saw the pain flash through her eyes and knew that he had hurt her. His own distress had caused him to lash out in anger, and though remorseful, he really didn’t know what to say. Besides, she was a servant and nothing more. Why should he even care what she thought?

  “And by the way,” he told her roughly. “The title is now Commander.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  He barely heard her softly spoken answer. Shrugging off the feeling that he should somehow remedy her unhappiness, he turned on his heel and left.

  ❧

  Cassius watched the full moon rise above the eternal city. Sitting on a hill not far from the Tiber River, he knew the golden globe would be reflected on its glistening surface. He was smart enough to sit upwind, for the Tiber reeked of the city’s waste that was piped from Rome’s homes.

  A cool breeze wafted gently on the night air, lifting Cassius’s dark curls from his forehead. He tensed at the sound of someone approaching.

  “I thought I might find you here.”

  Trajan’s voice came to him from the darkness, followed by the man himself. Cassius said nothing.

  “Do you mind if I have a seat?”

  Without looking at the other man, Cassius told him, “As you wish.”

  Undaunted by the lack of welcome, Trajan seated himself next to Cassius. Taking a blade of grass, he began to chew it.

  “I remember how often you used to come here to think.”

  Cassius remained silent.

  Sighing impatiently, Trajan dropped the blade of grass. “Has it ever occurred to you, Cassius, that this might be just as big a shock for me as for you?”

  Acknowledging that to be so, Cassius relaxed slightly. He asked the question that plagued him the most.

  “Did you love my mother?”

  Trajan took so long to answer, Cassius turned to him with lifted brow. The older man shrugged.

  “I thought so,” he answered quietly.

  “You thought so?” Though Cassius hadn’t raised his voice, Trajan flinched at the angry retort.

  “I was very young when I met your mother, and full of life and Roman pride. She was very beautiful.” He paused. “But then I found out that she was the wife of General Florian.”

  “And you were what? A captain?”

  He nodded. “Needless to say, when I found out that Callista was the wife of my superior officer, I left.”

  “Would you have done so if you had known about me?”

  “I don’t know.” Trajan’s voice was ragged. “I keep asking myself the same thing.”

  “You have never struck me as a coward,” Cassius disputed.

  “There are differing degrees of cowardice, Cassius,” Trajan disagreed. “I’m not certain what I might have done.”

  Cassius remained silent, his questions unasked. Suddenly, he was afraid to know the answers. Indeed, as Trajan had said, there were different degrees of cowardice. He had never considered himself to be afraid of anything, but now. . .

  “Where do we go from here?” he asked the older man.

  Trajan turned to him, his look direct and unyielding. “Where do you want to go from here?”

  Cassius couldn’t hold his gaze. He looked back to the rippling surface of the Tiber reflected by the moon’s bright light.

  “I don’t know. To me, Anticus is my father, and always will be.”

  “That’s understandable. Perhaps we could go on as we have been.” His voice grew soft. “I have always loved you, Cassius.”

  Love. The mere word left Cassius feeling cold. “As you loved my mother?”

  Trajan smiled slightly, wrapping both muscular arms around his pulled-up legs. “ ‘If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.’ ”

  The words, spoken with such authority, moved Cassius’s heart, and goose bumps appeared on his sun-darkened skin. Narrow eyed, he studied Trajan.

  “What kind of love are you speaking of?”

  Trajan took his time answering. “There is a love that is greater than all loves. When you ask if I loved your mother, you speak of one kind. I could not love your mother as I love you. The two are incomparable.”

  Anger flashed from Cassius’s eyes. “I hear it in your voice. You have answered my question. You did not love my mother. She was nothing more than a. . .a diversion.”

  “That’s not true. I honestly thought that I loved her.”

  “Then how do you know you didn’t?”

  Trajan plucked a small rock from the ground and sent it sailing towards the river. It rippled the surface with unerring accuracy.

  “I met another woman some time later. Her image has stayed in my heart ever since. I have never been able to love another, and what I felt for your mother pales in comparison.”

  “This woman,” Cassius ground out. “Why didn’t you marry her? What happened to her?”

  It took some time for Trajan to answer, and then his voice was laced with regret. “She was married.”

  Cassius snorted. “You seem to have a desire for other men’s wives.”

  The dry tone of Cassius’s voice sent the color flooding to Trajan’s cheeks. Suddenly, he got to his feet.

  “Think what you like, Cassius, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love you. In my heart, you have always been a son to me.”

  Instantly repentant, Cassius rose beside him. His own feelings were in utter chaos, but one thing he knew with certainty: He still felt a great love and respect for Trajan. “I’m sorry. I have always felt the same way about you, and though I can’t see you as my father, I can still see you as my friend.”

  Cassius slowly held out his arm to the other man, and Trajan hesitantly clasped his forearm. A silent message of understanding passed between them.

  “You spoke of another kind of love? What were you talking about? And what is this about angels, prophecies, and burning flames? When you spoke, you sounded almost like an oracle.”

  Trajan smiled slightly. “Another time, Cassius. You have too much on your mind now to be able to understand such mysteries.” He turned away and started down the hill. “Besides, your father should speak to you first.”

  Cassius watched him walk away and felt sudden fear grip his heart. His father? What was Trajan talking about? What would Anticus know of the prophecies Trajan was speaking of?

  He gave up trying to sort it all out. His mind was numb from thinking. Right now, all he wanted to do was to go home and sleep. Perhaps he would awaken in the morning and find that it was all a dream.

  Turning, he followed Trajan’s steps back down the hill.

  ❧

  Democrit
us showed Samah where the scraps of food for Sentinel were kept. Seeing the great quantity of waste, she couldn’t help but think what such “rubbish” would have meant to the starving people of Jerusalem. Shaking her head at such morbid thoughts, she fixed a plate and laid it before the dog. Democritus watched her skeptically.

  “I’m telling you, he won’t eat. He has never eaten for anyone except the master.”

  Sentinel sniffed the plate and then began eating hungrily. Democritus’s eyebrows flew upwards in amazement.

  “I can’t believe it.” He eyed Samah suspiciously. “How did you manage it?”

  She didn’t know how to answer him. A slight grin tugged at her mouth when she thought of explaining angels to his untutored mind. She shrugged her shoulders.

  Still doubtful, Democritus glanced from the dog to the girl. It was obvious that he thought her some kind of sorceress. When he finally left them in the kitchen, Samah sighed with relief.

  Pulling a chair next to the table, Samah picked a peach from the wooden bowl resting there. She munched on the fruit while she watched the dog. Glancing down at her foot, she smiled softly.

  She thought again of the generosity behind Cassius’s gesture. Already she was growing accustomed to the false foot, and it did, indeed, give her more freedom. It was like having a new life. If only her parents could see. A familiar pang of loneliness ran through her.

  When Cassius had knelt before her to promise her that he meant her no harm, she had noticed something lurking in his dark eyes that left her vaguely unsettled. Could she trust him to mean what he said? Could she trust herself? There was that in his look that sent her heart thrumming in response. Was it truly fear she felt, or something else?

  After Sentinel finished eating, she took his plate and washed it, returning it to its place on the shelf by the door. She stood in the kitchen and turned in a complete circle, making certain that nothing was out of place. Satisfied, she held out her hand to the dog.

  “I suppose you are to stay with me,” she told him, smiling. “Well, then, let us go to my room so that we may retire for the night.”

  Since she had no lamp for light, she used the bright light of the moon to prepare herself for the night. She replaced her tunic with a softer, lighter one meant for sleeping. Climbing onto her couch, she pulled a sheet over her and settled down for the night. Sentinel came and lay on the floor at her feet. Sighing, he placed his head on his paws.