Captive Heart (Truly Yours Digital Editions)

by Darlene Mindrup

  Now color bloomed healthily in her cheeks, her body curved softly with the lines of womanhood. Though she was still a cripple, her beauty was unsurpassed. Many men would overlook such an affliction for such a rare beauty. He thought he knew what the Roman wanted, and the idea made him angry.

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  Casting her gaze to the floor, she twisted her fingers in her lap. It was some time before she could bring herself to answer. He took her by the chin, lifting her eyes to his. He knew she would never be able to lie to him.

  “Yes, I do,” she told him softly.

  Anger caused the blood to flow through Ramoth in a swift flood tide. Reminding himself that it was his own impetuosity that had gotten his sister into this position in the first place, he tried to control himself.

  “How could you fall in love with a Roman?” he ground out. “Didn’t you see what they did to our people?”

  She turned her eyes towards him. “How could father love a Samaritan? How could mother love a Jew?”

  Looking ashamed, he turned away. “That’s different.”

  “Is it? Is it really, Ramoth? How so?”

  Since Jews and Samaritans had been killing each other for some time, he knew he couldn’t win this argument. The story of his parents’ own love affair in the face of such adversity still filled him with amazement.

  “For mercy’s sake, you’re a slave!” he finally answered bitterly.

  She gave a brittle laugh. “Not anymore.”

  He glanced at her sharply. “What do you mean?”

  She pulled the manumission scroll from her belt and handed it to him. “He gave me my freedom.”

  Ramoth read the scroll, his eyes widening. He handed it back to her. Perhaps he had been wrong about the Roman after all. “So you’re free. Leave.”

  Samah made a sound with her lips. Her angry gaze clashed with his. “If I didn’t leave you alone in Jerusalem, I won’t leave you alone here.”

  He reached for her, saw the dog, and thought better of it. “I can take care of myself! I want you to go home.”

  “He wants me to stay.”

  The quiet words hung in the air between them. Several seconds of silence passed before Ramoth could speak.

  “All the more reason to go.”

  She turned to him, her eyes full of sorrow. “He’s so close to believing, Ramoth. Someone needs to teach him the way.”

  “Well, let someone else,” he argued angrily. “If Jehovah wants him to be saved, he will be.”

  Not able to look him in the face, she got up and moved away, her back to him. Ramoth wanted to follow, to shake some sense into her, but he knew he wouldn’t make it past three steps before the monster watching him would be upon him.

  “Did you ever think that perhaps that’s why I am here in the first place?” Samah asked him.

  “Your emotions are clouding your judgment,” he rebutted. “If you are honest with yourself, you will know why you want to stay.”

  Though she wanted to deny it, Samah knew that she couldn’t. Her feelings for Cassius were past denying, but at the same time, they were decidedly ambiguous.

  “Sometimes I’m afraid of him,” she said without thinking.

  Ramoth grabbed the disclosure like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline. “ ‘Perfect love drives out fear,’ ” he quoted. “If you truly loved him, you wouldn’t fear him. I think you’re just infatuated.”

  She turned to him, smiling sadly. “It doesn’t alter the amount of pain.”

  Realizing that she was wavering, Ramoth gave his final argument. “You’re so fond of quoting the apostle Paul and his admonitions about obeying the authorities. Then let me quote the apostle Paul to you. He said, ‘Do not be yoked together with unbelievers.’ That’s a command, my sister, not a suggestion.”

  Samah felt a lancing pain through her heart. What he said was so. She was so fond of pointing out her brother’s weaknesses and faults, but what about hers? All of a sudden, she felt a greater affinity for her brother’s impetuosity. How had she grown so far from her beliefs in the past months? Somehow, her attention had shifted from her Lord to an unbelieving Roman. Even when she had tried to reason with Cassius, it was because she longed for him to believe. Why? For his true salvation, or so that he would share her faith?

  She looked out the window and lifted her eyes to the lightening sky. “Oh, Jehovah,” she cried silently. “Forgive me. Forgive me.”

  Ramoth’s voice reached her across the room. “The Roman wants you, Samah. I can see it in his eyes.”

  She turned and leaned her back against the window frame. Her anguished eyes meshed with his. “What can I do?”

  He stood slowly to his feet, keeping a cautious eye on Sentinel. “Go home.”

  “And what about you?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “What can he do to me? I’ve done nothing wrong, really.”

  She took a ragged breath. “You think abducting someone is not wrong?”

  “I did not abduct you. I merely rescued you from someone who had,” he reasoned.

  “That’s a lie.”

  He sighed impatiently. “Not exactly, and besides, how could he prove otherwise? If you are gone, then why should they wish to keep me?” Casting her an irritated look, he told her, “Think of Mother and Father. Haven’t they suffered enough? They need to know that we’re alive.”

  Samah knew his words made sense, but there was something about his reasoning that made her reluctant. They stared at one another for several long moments.

  “Go home, little sister,” he pleaded softly.

  Still reluctant, she held her hands out at her sides. “How? I have no money, and I wouldn’t have any idea how to go about arranging for transportation if I had.”

  “Go to Jonah.”

  She lifted surprised eyes to his face. Frowning, she eyed him suspiciously. “How do you know Jonah?”

  “I don’t. I’ve only heard of him.” He sat down on the bed again, eyeing her carefully. “But I understand that you know him quite well.”

  Her heart jumped and began pounding heavily. “Who told you that?”

  “Never mind. Just go to him, and he will help you.”

  She looked at Sentinel, considering whether the dog might allow her to take her brother with her. If she held the animal, would he turn on her and tear her to pieces?

  Ramoth followed her look. Turning back to her, he laughed harshly. “Don’t even think about it. Just go. I will follow soon.”

  Uncertain of his meaning, she obediently moved to the door. She stopped on the threshold, her eyes meeting her brother’s.

  He smiled grimly. “Just go.”

  Turning, she left.

  ❧

  It was late in the afternoon when Cassius returned to his villa. The final preparations had been made to bury his father in a vault outside the city since no one was allowed to be buried inside. He was weary beyond endurance.

  Democritus met him in the hall, taking his toga from him. “My lord?”

  One look into Cassius’s pain-filled eyes, and the servant knew. His face clouded with sorrow.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Cassius gave him a brief nod. Glancing towards the hallway he asked, “How is the prisoner?”

  “He has been no trouble. I gave him food.”

  “Good.” Cassius entered the triclinium and dropped heavily onto one of the couches. Rubbing his face tiredly, he told Democritus to send Samah to him. Cassius knew that she had grown fond of his father, and she would be hurt by his death, but he also knew that she would want to know.

  “She’s not here, my lord.”

  He raised a brow. “Where is she?”

  Looking uncomfortable, Democritus told him weakly, “I don’t know, my lord. She came and told me goodbye this morning.”

  Cassius froze. He lifted his eyes in question. “What do you mean, ‘goodbye’?” He could see that the Greek was nervous. Getting quickly to his feet, he strode from the room and
into the one where Ramoth was being held.

  “Where is she?” he demanded.

  Ramoth lay on the bed, his arms folded behind his head. He turned his head slightly and stared at Cassius in amusement.

  “Who?”

  Cassius crossed the room and in one swift movement lifted Ramoth by the front of his tunic. “Don’t play games with me. Where is your sister?”

  Ramoth glanced at Sentinel and then back to Cassius. His eyebrow lifted mockingly. Cassius saw the threat in Ramoth’s eyes, and without taking his eyes from Ramoth commanded, “Sentinel, go.”

  Reluctant, but obedient, the dog slowly left the room, turning to look back once before disappearing from view. Cassius leisurely released his grip on Ramoth’s garment.

  “If you want to fight me,” he grated, “then do so.”

  Although Ramoth was several years his senior, Cassius had no doubt of the outcome of such a fight. Though the Jew was lean and hard, he hadn’t the expertise of Roman training.

  Ramoth sat back down on the bed, smiling falsely. “I don’t wish to fight you, Roman,” he lied. “What would that achieve?”

  “If I have to find her myself, I will do so,” Cassius warned. “Sentinel has done it twice before, and he can do so again.”

  Ramoth realized the truth of his words. “I thought you gave her her freedom,” he questioned, eyes narrowing with mistrust.

  Cassius stood glowering at him. It was true, he had given her her freedom, so why did he suddenly feel the desire to revoke that? He could tell that Samah’s brother didn’t trust him. In actuality, he wasn’t certain that he trusted himself. He had just lost his father, he couldn’t lose Samah, too.

  “Where is she?” he demanded again.

  Ramoth stared at Cassius, then slowly lowered himself to a reclining position. He crossed his hands behind his head and looked fixedly at the ceiling without answering.

  “So be it,” Cassius growled. Turning, he left the room, calling Sentinel to him. He went to Samah’s room and found it empty of most of her personal belongings. He was angered that she had left most of the garments he had purchased for her, and grabbing one from the bed, he held it out to Sentinel.

  “Find her,” he commanded harshly.

  The dog quickly left the room and Cassius followed. Opening the front door, he trailed the animal through the city until he came to the open-air market.

  Without hesitation, Sentinel made his way to the fruit vendor’s booth.

  At first, Cassius believed the dog had made a mistake. It was the fruit vendor that had apprized him of Samah’s abduction just yesterday. Had it only been one day since Sentinel had followed her trail through the city until he had found her in that slum apartment? It seemed more like eons.

  Now, he could see the vendor’s eyes widen, not in surprise, but in fear. Frowning, he closed the distance between them.

  Leaning on the counter, he asked him, “Your name. I’ve forgotten it.”

  “Jonah,” he replied, swallowing hard.

  Cassius’s eyes glittered dangerously. “Well, Jonah, I need some information.”

  The man paled. “Information?”

  Cassius nodded, leaning negligently on the counter. Jonah was not fooled by his quiet demeanor or his relaxed position. Cassius looked like a lion ready to pounce.

  “I am looking for the woman you helped me to find yesterday.”

  “Woman, my lord?”

  Cassius’s angry gaze impaled him like a javelin. “Don’t play dumb with me,” he countered quietly. “I know she was here. If need be, my dog can continue the search.” He pointed to the fish emblem on the post without taking his eyes from the vendor. “However, there’s no telling what else he may find.”

  Jonah’s face turned absolutely white. He vacillated back and forth in making his decision. Controlling his anger, Cassius tried to allay his fears.

  “I mean her no harm. She has decided to leave, and I merely wanted to tell her good-bye.”

  Jonah eyed him sardonically, obviously not believing him.

  “Fine,” Cassius growled, and turning to the dog, he snapped his fingers.

  Jonah knew that if the animal followed Samah’s trail, he would lead the commander to a large number of the body of believers. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “Wait!”

  Cassius turned back to him.

  “She’s at my house,” Jonah told him reluctantly.

  “Take me there.”

  The command brooked no disobedience. Motioning to a young boy across the street, Jonah waited until he crossed to them.

  “Lucius, mind the stall until I return.”

  The boy glanced suspiciously at Cassius and then nodded.

  Cassius and Sentinel followed the vendor until he came to an apartment complex. A bakery was on one side, a tavern on the other.

  Entering a stairwell in the middle, Jonah led them up a dark passage until he came to a small door at the top of the stairway. He opened the door and leaned inside.

  “Capua, I’m home.”

  Capua hurried from the back of the apartment, stopping abruptly when she saw Cassius and Sentinel. Her face paled, and she clutched her shawl to her chest. Samah entered the room behind her. Her eyes widened.

  “Cassius!”

  His eyes focused on Samah, Cassius asked the other two, “Would you please leave us alone for a few moments?”

  Jonah’s eyes sought Samah’s. She nodded imperceptibly. They both left the room, Capua turning and giving one last glance at Cassius. The admiration in her eyes was unmistakable.

  Sentinel seated himself in the doorway, and Cassius went to Samah, taking her by the shoulders. There was hurt in his voice when he finally managed to speak.

  “You didn’t say good-bye.”

  Samah cast her gaze nervously around the room. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

  “I didn’t know what to say. I. . .I knew you had a lot on your mind.” She pulled out of his grasp. “Your father, how is he?”

  “He’s dead.”

  The stark words caused her knees to buckle beneath her. Reaching behind her, she lowered herself onto a seat.

  When she lifted her eyes to his, Cassius was surprised to find the pain in their depths mixed with joy. He frowned.

  “You are glad?”

  She shook her head, a sad smile tilting her lips to one side. “For you? No. For Anticus? Yes.”

  Cassius thought he understood. He seated himself next to her. “You mean because he is free of pain? Yes, I am thankful for that, also.”

  She looked at him sharply. “He is free from pain, yes, but he is also alive with Christ.”

  Instead of being angry, Cassius sighed. “I wish I could believe that.”

  Samah felt hope flood through her. “You can, Cassius. You have faith in yourself, you can have faith in Jehovah, too.”

  He smiled wearily. “It’s not that easy.”

  Without thinking, she took his hand. “But it is. Faith is a decision, just as love is. You decide in your heart to believe.”

  His smile was cynical. “Just like that?”

  The pain registered on his face, even while something else flashed through his dark eyes. He closed his hand around hers, his look pulling her ever closer.

  “Just like that,” she answered huskily. “When your general tells you to go fight, and he tells you that he will send reinforcements, you go, believing it will be so. That’s faith.”

  He loosened her hand, placing his palm against her cheek. His searching eyes reached into her very soul, and Samah covered his hand with her own.

  “And if you find out that what you believe in is not real?”

  “It is,” she assured him. “But even if it’s not so, what have you lost?”

  What would he? He had seen his father die peacefully, his heart filled with hope. What was so wrong with that? Every one needed to believe in something. What had Roman gods ever done for him?

  Cassius lifted his other han
d and pressed it against her other cheek. He pulled her face close, his eyes seeking something he wasn’t certain she could give.

  “Don’t leave me,” he entreated softly. “I can’t lose you, too.”

  Samah looked into his eyes and completely lost her heart. Ramoth was right. Perfect love did cast out fear. From the moment he had walked in the door, she had realized that she was no longer afraid of him. Her whole being had been flooded with joy at his very presence.

  Now, she dreaded the feelings he evoked in her. If she stayed, she might very well betray her Lord and everything He had done for her. Her own eyes were pleading when she answered him.

  “I can’t stay.”

  His eyes roved her face disbelievingly. Slowly, he released her. Confused by her response, he wanted to take her in his arms and show her that what she said was a lie.

  “Why can’t you?”

  “Oh, Cassius,” she muttered raggedly. What could she say? Not being a believer, he would never understand her reasoning. “I just can’t. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  She pulled back from his anger. It was so very hard to pull her eyes away from his. The misery she saw reflected there shook her resolve. Getting up, she put some distance between them.

  “You’re not a believer, Cassius. The apostle Paul has commanded that believers not yoke themselves together with unbelievers.” She glanced at him, her eyes darkened with her own pain.

  He got up and walked to the other side of the room. Rubbing his forehead, he tried to think clearly. An impossible task. When he turned to her, all the past hurts of his life seemed to be manifested in her. Like his mother, she would leave him. The pain of a rejected childhood rose to taunt him again. He dropped his gaze.

  “So be it,” he told her coldly. Snapping to Sentinel, he walked quickly from the room.

  Samah hurried after him, calling to him from the top of the stairs. Looking up, he lifted an eyebrow in question.