Captive Heart (Truly Yours Digital Editions)

by Darlene Mindrup

  “But what of mother and father?”

  He flinched. “They don’t know.”

  “But Titus released you. Cassius said so.”

  “Cassius? You call your master by his name?”

  The warning in her eyes forced him to change what he wanted to say. He looked away.

  “I knew if father realized that I was coming after you, he would insist on coming, too. I couldn’t have that, so I never went home.”

  Samah sucked in a shocked breath. “You mean they don’t know that we’re alive? Ramoth, how could you?”

  He got up from the couch and crossed to the other side of the room. Turning his head, he glared at her. “They’ll know soon enough.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” he declared quietly, “that soon we will both be back home.”

  Samah’s mouth dropped open. “But how? I’m a slave now, I can’t just leave.”

  He turned, leaning his back against the wall. “You can if I take you.”

  Shaking her head, Samah frowned in puzzlement. “I don’t understand. How did you even know where to find me? How did you get here? And your beard. . .”

  He laughed without mirth. “Don’t remind me. Anyway, after I was released from jail, the Romans set me free. They thought I was some kind of political prisoner and loyal to Rome. They had me swear allegiance, and then they turned me loose.”

  Samah rose quickly to her feet, her eyes widened with horror. “You swore allegiance to Rome?”

  Frowning, Ramoth moved his hand in a deprecating gesture. “I didn’t mean it.”

  Crossing the room, she placed her hands on his forearms. “But Ramoth, you know that if you swear an oath, you must do all in your power to fulfill it,” she reminded urgently.

  Angrily, he shoved her hands away.

  “I owe Rome nothing!”

  Samah’s heart sank. For years her parents had agonized over Ramoth’s impetuous personality and his refusal to submit to authority. No matter how many times they reminded him of the apostle Paul’s admonition to submit to the authorities, Ramoth refused to yield. Reminding him that it was a sin did no good, either. It had only caused him to move further away from the Lord.

  “Well, I do,” she countered softly. “I am a slave, and the apostle Paul said to be subject to my master in everything. If I obey and try to please him, it will make the teaching about God more attractive. Paul said so.”

  “Paul was never a slave!” he refuted hotly.

  Her eyes filled with love. “He was a slave to Christ. Wher-ever Jehovah sent him, he went, knowing that the Lord had His purpose.” She touched Ramoth’s shoulder and felt his strong muscles tense beneath her fingers. “Ramoth, Jehovah allowed me to be here for a purpose. I believe that with all my heart, and until Cassius says otherwise, I can’t leave.”

  Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her slightly, his voice lashing in its intensity. “You’re going, Samah. One way or another.”

  “She’s not going anywhere.”

  So heated had been their exchange that neither had heard the door open. Spinning around, they stood staring in stunned amazement at the figure outlined in the doorway. Cassius stood there, Sentinel by his side. Four other soldiers stood waiting behind him, their swords drawn and ready.

  ❧

  Cassius watched as the soldiers removed the young man from the room. The boiling rage within him had sought an outlet and had found one when the young Jew had attacked him. With one blow, Cassius had laid him out.

  “Cassius, please.”

  The tears raining from Samah’s eyes did nothing towards softening his wrath. “Silence!” he barked, and waited until the room was empty. Taking Samah by the arm, he propelled her none too gently out the door and into the darkened streets.

  “Where are they taking him?”

  Though Cassius’s stormy eyes fastened on her briefly, he never checked his stride. Samah was tempted to do as bid and be silent, but she could not. Ramoth was her brother. She reached out a detaining hand, clutching Cassius’s arm.

  He whirled on her in fury. When he had at first been apprized of Samah’s abduction, he had been filled with a great fear. That fear had rapidly turned to anger when the fruit vendor had mentioned the sicarii. The description was no coincidence. He knew the man must be one and the same as the one who had accosted her on the hill.

  “Who is this man? What is he to you? To hire an assassin, he must care for you very much.”

  “He’s my brother,” she snapped.

  That brought him up short. He sought the truth in her face, and found it. Some of the anger ebbed. The last he had heard, her brother was still in Palestine. He must have followed them here and waited for a time when he could free his sister.

  He glanced behind them, pondering what to do. If anything happened to her brother, Samah would be devastated. Pressing his lips together, he took Samah by the arm once again and propelled her back the way they had just traversed.

  They made their way through the streets in silence until he at last came to the garrison where the troops were billeted. Pushing Samah onto a bench, he commanded, “Wait here.” He pointed to Samah, and in a barely controlled voice he commanded Sentinel, “Guard.”

  Samah watched his retreating back, and tried to swallow past the large lump in her throat. Whatever would happen to her impulsive brother now? And Cassius. Never had she seen him looking so ruthless. When he had struck her brother, the resounding blow had echoed in the room. Now she truly feared for her brother’s life. Exactly how much of their conversation had Cassius heard?

  When Cassius returned, he was followed by two soldiers holding Ramoth up between them. They helped Ramoth to the bench beside Samah. Moaning, Ramoth dropped his head to Samah’s shoulder.

  “Are you sure about this, Commander?” one soldier asked hesitantly. At a quick jerk of Cassius’s head, the soldier sighed. “As you wish. I will have a cart brought around.”

  Samah stared up at Cassius, her love shining from her eyes. “Thank you.”

  He glanced at her and turned away. “Don’t thank me yet.”

  She remained silent, wanting to explain, but afraid to do so. When the soldier brought the cart, Cassius helped Ramoth into it, lifting Samah in beside him.

  His hands at her waist, he found himself unable to look away from her glowing eyes. Ramoth moaned, and Cassius pulled back. Taking the horse by the bridle, he led them away from the compound.

  By the time they reached the villa, Ramoth had come to himself. He clutched his aching head in his hands. Blood still trickled from an open wound on his forehead. Noticing the Roman standing near, he tensed.

  “Ramoth.”

  He jerked his head around at his sister’s soft voice, moaning when the bile rose to his throat. She came quickly to his aid.

  Placing an arm around his waist, Samah helped him from the cart. “You are at Cassius’s home.”

  Democritus hurried down the stairs, his hands on his hips. “Another one?”

  Cassius glanced at him briefly. “Take him inside, Demo-critus. Find him a room.”

  When Samah would have followed, he took her by the arm. “Not you. You have some explaining to do.”

  He pulled her into the triclinium, and shoved her onto a couch. “Well?” he demanded.

  She related the story as Ramoth had explained it to her. Frightened of what his reaction might be, she bit her bottom lip and waited for his response.

  Sighing, he sat down beside her. “I can’t fault him for his desire to rescue you.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  He eyed her casually. “I don’t know. But until I decide, I think it might be wise to put your brother under guard. There’s no telling what he might do.”

  Samah couldn’t argue with him there. She was just thankful that Ramoth hadn’t been sent to a Roman prison.

  Calling Sentinel, Cassius left the room, returning moments later without the dog.

  He didn’t c
ome back to his seat by her side. Instead, he went and looked out the open doorway into the garden beyond. His back was rigid.

  “Would you have gone?”

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. She stood and limped across to him. Though she didn’t touch him, her words held him tightly in place.

  “I told him I could not go unless you gave me permission.”

  He lifted his head slightly but still kept his back to her.

  “And if I gave you that permission? Would you go then?”

  Would she? Though she longed to see her home and her family, her heart was tied up with this surly soldier of Rome. How had that come to be? A cruel twist of Jehovah’s whim, perhaps. Immediately repentant of such thoughts, she begged forgiveness. If Jehovah wanted her to love this man of Rome, then she had no choice. But did Jehovah truly want her to remain in this country so far from her people?

  Cassius turned. “You don’t answer. Perhaps that tells me what I need to know.”

  For the first time, she recognized that she had the power to hurt him. She could see it in his eyes. He truly cared about her, but how much? Would he feel abandoned again if she left him? Would it tear his heart apart as it would hers?

  Before she could answer, he moved away from her and lifted a scroll from the table. His eyes meshed with hers, and he swallowed hard. Coming back to her, he held out the paper.

  “Perhaps this will help you decide.”

  She took the paper and looked at it, puzzled. “What is this?”

  “Your liberty. It’s a document giving you your freedom.”

  She glanced at him in surprise. Reaching out, he swiftly removed her slave bracelet and the coin from her neck. His face was taut with apprehension.

  “I gave all of my slaves their freedom this morning.” He brought his face close to hers. Taking her by the chin, he told her softly, “You’ve convinced me that it was wrong.”

  She didn’t know what to say. “Oh, Cassius.”

  His name on her lips sounded like music. Cupping her face between his palms, he asked her, “Will you stay?”

  A knock on the door interrupted them. Democritus peeked his head inside.

  “My lord, Hector is here. Your father is very ill, and he wants to see you.”

  TWELVE

  The flickering torches on the wall lighted the bedroom. Anticus lay on his bed, his white face pinched with pain. His breathing was labored and shallow, but his mouth tilted into a smile when he saw his son.

  Cassius sat carefully on the bed, lifting his father’s cold hand into his larger, warmer one. He pushed the silk sheets out of his way, adjusting them over his father for more comfort. His other hand joined with the two, and he began to rub Anticus’s hand gently, as though by doing so he could impart some of his own strong life force.

  “Cassius, my son.”

  The voice, though weak, was full of patriarchal pride. Cassius felt his heart give a mighty lurch.

  “Father.”

  Cassius couldn’t speak further, a solid lump forming in his throat. His eyes surveyed his father tenderly, and he knew with dreadful certainty that these were his father’s last minutes. Tears hung suspended on Cassius’s lids.

  “Cassius, I must tell you something.”

  “Shhh, Father. Save your strength.”

  A smile peeked past the pain in the old man’s eyes. “For what? My time has come, and I will soon be with my Lord. It’s you I’m concerned about.”

  There was peace in the look of confidence he gave Cassius, and Cassius marveled at his father’s assurance in a Jewish god. He turned his head slightly when he heard a disturbance at the door. Trajan came quickly into the room, assessing the situation in one quick look. His mouth turned down into a frown.

  Anticus saw him standing behind Cassius, and he smiled. “Trajan! I was afraid you wouldn’t make it in time.”

  Trajan exchanged a quick look with Cassius and then returned Anticus’s smile half-heartedly. “Don’t be foolish. Would I let you down?” He held up a hand. “No, don’t answer that!” He grinned. “What are you up to, old friend? Have you more information to shock Cassius and I?” he asked jokingly.

  Anticus grew serious. “As a matter of fact, I have,” he rasped. The smile slid from Trajan’s face.

  Turning to his son, Anticus looked steadily into his eyes. “Cassius, I have found your mother.”

  A blanket of silence hung over the room, both men too shocked to respond.

  “Hector will take you to her.”

  Cassius glanced at Trajan, his mouth parted slightly in surprise. Trajan’s face had lost its color. He looked back at Cassius, his eyes full of questions.

  Turning back to his father, Cassius shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Cassius,” Anticus pleaded. “Go to her. Make your peace with her. Allow her to finally give you all the love she has always wanted to.” He squeezed Cassius’s hand. “Let her take my place in your life.”

  Nostrils flaring, Cassius drew heavily on his self-control to keep from lashing out. He knew his father was only trying to make things easier. Anticus wanted to see all the loose ends of his life tied securely before he departed to the afterlife. Forcing down the rushing anger, he told his father hoarsely, “No one can take your place.”

  “Cassius, let her try.”

  Cassius pulled his hands away, scraping one hand back through his hair. “It’s not that easy. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  Anticus looked at Trajan sadly. “And you, my friend. You, too, must make your peace with Callista.”

  Trajan turned his eyes away.

  “I’m dying,” Anticus told them harshly. “ I want you to promise me now.”

  Feeling the guilt that Cassius knew his father expected, Cassius pressed his lips tightly together. He wouldn’t be coerced into facing his mother. What did he owe her, after all?

  Seeing his father’s distress at his hesitation, Cassius slumped against the weight of guilt and grief. He might not owe his earthly mother anything, but he certainly owed this man something. More than he could ever repay. If it would make him happy, then so be it.

  “I promise.”

  Trajan came and stood on the other side of the bed. “As do I, Anticus.”

  Relieved, the old man closed his eyes, sighing heavily. He knew that he had done what he could. Now, only God could make things right.

  Leaning forward, Cassius pulled his father’s hand up to his forehead. “I love you, Father,” he said huskily. “I love you so much.”

  Pain tore at Cassius heart unlike anything he had ever experienced. Oft times he had overcome physical pain from his many times of battle, but this pain. . .this pain was unendurable.

  Anticus pulled his hand from Cassius’s and placed it on his downbent head. “And I love you.”

  The tears that had threatened now found release. Sobbing, Cassius buried his face against the sheets. Anticus continued to stroke his head.

  “Remember, Cassius,” he said softly. “You have another Father.”

  Lifting his head, Cassius swimming eyes met Trajan’s.

  Trajan shook his head regretfully. “No, Cassius. He’s not referring to me.”

  Cassius turned his look on Anticus. The old man smiled.

  “Let Trajan and Samah teach you about Him. Listen to their words and heed them.” Tears filled his eyes. “Oh, my son! Someday, I hope to be reunited with you in heaven.”

  Knowing he couldn’t promise such a thing, he told his father, “I’ll try.”

  Anticus’s body jerked, a spasm of pain crossing his face.

  “Father!” Turning, Cassius noticed for the first time the physician standing in the room. “Do something!”

  The physician shrugged, hands held out to his side helplessly. “My lord, there is nothing that can be done.”

  Cassius clutched his father’s hand tighter. “Don’t die! Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, save him!”

  A slight gurgle came from Anticus’s thro
at. His eyes rolled back into his head, and with a sudden convulsive movement, his body went still.

  Cassius felt his father’s hand slacken against his. Dropping his head to the sheets, he was helpless against the pain that tore through his own body. His voice lifted in a keening wail. “Noooo!”

  ❧

  Samah entered the room where her brother was being held. She glanced around, noting that the only guard he had was Sentinel, but then she knew that was safeguard enough. The dog watched Ramoth with unblinking eyes.

  He was lying on the bed, his arms folded across his chest. Both dog and man looked her way at the same time.

  “How is your head?”

  Ramoth’s eyes were so dark, they were black. “Your Roman has a hefty blow. If I see him again, he will not find me such an easy target.”

  Samah crossed the room and pulled back the drapes, allowing the cool night breeze to enter the room. “Don’t be foolish,” she told him in aggravation. “Cassius saved your life.”

  He got quickly to his feet and started towards her. Sentinel came to his feet at the same time. The dog’s fierce growl stopped Ramoth in his tracks. Teeth bared, the animal eyed Ramoth with unconcealed hostility.

  Ramoth returned the dog’s look warily. “Call him off.”

  Samah glanced at Sentinel and knew that the animal would never heed her now. “I can’t. When Cassius places him on guard, only Cassius can release him.”

  Frustrated, Ramoth seated himself once again on the bed, and the dog slowly lay back down. He gave his sister a look of extreme ire. He nodded at her foot, his expression sullen.

  “What is that?”

  Flushing, Samah came and sat next to him. Though Sentinel’s ears pricked alertly, he remained still. She reached out to touch the darkening bruise on Ramoth’s forehead, but he pulled away. She was unaccountably hurt by his rejection.

  “Cassius had a carpenter fashion a false foot.” Lifting her leg, she moved the appendage from side to side. “It works marvelously, though sometimes when I use it too much I get a sore on my leg.”

  Ramoth grunted. He wondered why the Roman would do such a thing for his sister. He studied her now, taking note of the soft clothing and bright colors. It had been almost three years since he had last seen his sister properly. The darkness of the jail cells was barely relieved by the torches on the walls. Then when Jerusalem had been seized, after time, his sister came to him looking thinner, the dark circles under her eyes telling of her malnourishment.