by Carol Ashby
Tiberius tightened his lips. Galen spoke like a fool. “Good in the bad? That sounds like a game the philosophers play. Fooling themselves into believing what isn't true so they can claim to understand everything.”
Galen rubbed his lower lip. “Maybe philosophers do that, but that’s not what I’m talking about. My faith isn’t just philosophy. It’s based on what’s real, and I often see God bring good out of bad.”
“So you say, but I’ve mostly seen bad come from bad, not good. Mere words aren’t proof.”
“But the things that happen are.” Galen raised one finger. “Look at Adela. If Otto hadn’t decided to gamble with her kidnappers, she’d have ended up someone’s slave.” Galen rubbed the back of his neck. “You know what many owners do to their female slaves. But he did win her, and now she’s free to go home.”
A second finger rose. “And Otto. He drank so much he didn’t see the danger of going off with a man who covered a bet with a woman who claimed she wasn’t his slave. But if he hadn’t been taken, I would never have come to Rome. Otto wouldn’t be a Roman citizen, and you wouldn’t be on your way to visit Dec.”
A third finger joined the first two. “And then there’s Dec. If he hadn’t almost been killed in that ambush, Val would never have brought him home to heal. He wouldn’t have become my brother-in-law. Otto and I wouldn’t have learned how to use a gladius so well that Otto didn’t die in his first fight. Then a good man like Brutus bought him, and I fought well enough to beat Brutus to get Otto freed. But if Brutus had set the price low enough that I hadn’t been forced to come to you for help, you wouldn’t be going home with me to make Dec a very happy man when he sees you again.”
What Galen said almost made sense. But wishful thinking could fool a man, and he was no fool. “Make Decimus happy? I’m probably dead as far as he’s concerned. It’s been eight years.”
Galen shook his head “I’m not lying when I tell you Dec has prayed every day since he came back to us for this chance to reconcile.
“But the biggest proof of good from bad was in Judaea almost 90 years ago, when Pontius Pilatus crucified Jesus to satisfy the Jewish leaders after they said Pilatus was no friend of Caesar if he didn’t.”
Tiberius’s head snapped back. “We’ve both seen what a man suffers on a cross. How could that possibly be good?”
Galen stroked the scar on his cheek. “The physical torture wasn’t the worst part.” His eyes saddened. “It was taking on all the sin that separated him from God the Father.” His mouth drooped. “Taking on my sin.”
Then his perpetual smile returned. “Jesus’s death changed everything. Pilate didn’t know it, but he was fulfilling the prophesies of how Jesus would die to be the final blood sacrifice that paid for the sins of all men for all time. Then Jesus rose from the dead and proved that everything He’d said about having power over death itself was true. The good that came from that horror includes me being a child of God who will live with Him forever.”
Tiberius faced Galen straight on and crossed his arms. “I’ve heard the claims that Jesus is the son of a god and even a god himself. That delusion took both my son and my best friend.”
His eyebrows lowered. “The gods aren’t real. They’re just stories people tell to make sense of a world that truly makes no sense. All you’ve described are just strings of coincidences. No god would die to save any man, and no god is worth dying for, like Publius did.
“And no god who lives only in your imagination is worth denying yourself the woman who might make you happy. If you want Adela, you’re a fool to let your religion keep you from her.” Adela’s laugh drew his attention to the pair by the pond. “If you wait too long, she may change her mind and not want you.”
Tiberius moved away, but he hadn’t taken three steps before he turned back. “Tomorrow, Otto rides beside me, and you teach her more Latin. You should be able to slip te amo in there somewhere, and make sure she knows you mean it.”
Those words triggered a noncommittal tilt of Galen’s head, but Tiberius’s satisfied smile revealed his assumption that Galen would do as he said.
“Sleep well, Galen. Tomorrow offers another chance.” Tiberius stepped inside.
Another chance. That was what he needed. God, give me another chance to tell Adela about you. Let her listen and decide to follow the Way. Let it be your will that she becomes my wife. A sigh welled up from deep within him. But if it isn’t, let her marry a truly good man…like Otto.
He dragged his gaze away from the laughing pair to focus on the door through which Tiberius had gone. Every new day offered another chance, but some things were a long time coming. God, please let our years of prayer bear fruit. Claim Tiberius as your own.
Chapter 42: Road to Reunion
An estate outside Augusta Praetoria, Day 57
Scattered clouds framed the mountains that rose past the elegant villa just ahead. Tiberius turned in his saddle to face Galen and Otto as they rode behind his string of mares.
“This will be our last stop before we cross the pass. The estate belongs to Aulus Flavius Rutilus, the oldest brother of my cousin’s son’s wife.”
Otto placed his hand on top of his head. “Is there any estate owner in Italia who isn’t related to you by blood or marriage or both?”
Tiberius shrugged, but what his young German friend said was almost true. “Family ties are important to Romans, and the slightest connection is cause to welcome a traveler as an overnight guest. That includes you now, as my freedman and business agent.”
Otto placed his hand on his chest and raised his chin. “As Tiberius Cornelius Baldricus, allow me to extend an invitation to come stay at my father’s house anytime.” He tightened his lips to squash the grin. “Of course, you won’t have a room of your own, and you’ll have to sit on a chair to eat. My little brother can eat standing while you’re with us.” He wrinkled his nose. “And it might not be wise to mention to Father that you were once provincial governor.”
The grin leaked out. “I can guarantee we’ll take good care of your stallion. He’s almost as big as one of our best studs and fine enough to produce foals I wouldn’t be ashamed to sell to the tribunes in Argentorate.”
Tiberius chuckled. “I can see I’ve chosen the right man to partner in my new stable. A horse trader to the bone.”
He pointed at the mountains. “There’s a mansio at the summit of the pass for those on Imperial business. As a former governor, I can stay there. The horses can be stabled under guard. After that―” He shrugged. “You’ll soon see why we have three pack mules. We may be camping until Argentorate, and you’ll be on night watch.”
As Tiberius turned to face forward again, Adela reached into her sack and pulled out a roll. He raised his eyebrows to ask the question, and she smiled to tell him it wasn’t a problem.
His lips relaxed into a contented smile. These young men were worthwhile additions to his extended network of family and friends. He couldn’t have chosen a better brother-in-law for his son or a man more worthy of becoming his freedman.
He glanced at Adela. One of them should marry her and pull her into his network as well. In Rome, he would have bet any amount on Galen. But after almost three weeks on the road together, a wise gambler would have to split his bets.
Their party had arrived at the villa in the early afternoon, leaving time to relax before gathering for dinner. As Adela strolled through the garden with Tiberius, they walked through an arch in a rose hedge.
She froze. A young woman was removing the spent flowers while a baby slept in a basket beside her. The world swirled down into a tunnel with the baby at the end and started sucking her into it.
“Adela.” Tiberius’s voice pulled her back. “You should tell Galen you’re carrying his child. He’ll do the right thing and marry you.”
“I can’t say that.” She bit her lip. “Galen never touched me that way. He’s always treated me with respect. It was the kidnapper. I was knocked
out when he pulled me off the horse, and he…” Her chest jumped, but a few hard blinks stopped the tears. “We caught up with him in Brigantium. The soldiers crucified him, but his death didn’t change what he’s done to me.”
She squeezed her lips together in a futile effort to stop her chin quivering. “I don’t know what will happen when I go home carrying his child. Father was going to arrange my marriage with another chieftain’s son. Mother lost several babies early, so maybe I will. But if I don’t lose the baby soon…I’m scared, Tiberius. A woman of my tribe who carries a baby before her marriage…sometimes her family kills her to end the shame.”
Tiberius wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. “I won’t allow that. Before we leave you there, I’ll talk with your father to make certain he understands what happened. He should take my word that Galen wouldn’t have touched you and Otto’s had no chance to.”
“But Father hates Romans. He might kill you just for being one, and he’d kill you for certain if he knew who you are.” She dropped her gaze to the ground. “You shouldn’t even go with us across the border.”
He took her chin in his hand and lifted until their gazes met. “If he doesn’t welcome you back, we won’t leave you there. I don’t think it will be necessary, but if you have nowhere else to go, you can come home with me.”
A single tear escaped, and he smiled at her as he wiped it away. “Don’t. There’s no need to worry before you must.” He glanced over the low wall into the stable yard where Galen was brushing Astrelo, even though a slave would have done it. “Galen will ask what’s wrong, and you don’t need that question right now.”
Adela flicked away the second tear and forced a smile. If only Father could be as understanding as Tiberius, but that wasn’t the Hermunduri way.
Day 58
Galen stood by the window in the dining room, waiting for the rest to appear for breakfast. As he scanned the mountains before him, he smiled. It would be good to return to the wilder country. Pillow-soft beds and exotic foods with aromas that made a man’s mouth water were luxuries he didn’t even have at home, but staying in a stranger’s house left no opportunity for long talks with Adela.
Something about dancing flames and glowing coals fueled deep conversations. Maybe it was how the deep shadows of the night made someone feel less exposed while sharing private thoughts. Maybe it was how flames seemed to burn away attacks of shyness like dried leaves tossed on a fire.
Tiberius entered wearing his wide-stripe tunic, and Galen’s eyebrow rose. They were entering wild country, and advertising his rank and wealth was not wise.
“I’m not a fool, Galen. One more day in senatorial splendor, and then I’ll wear the plain tunic, as you advised. I need to look the senator for admittance to the mansio tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough for servant’s clothes.”
Adela entered in her short riding tunic, and Tiberius smiled as if she were the sun rising. “Today’s the day I promised you. Before we start the climb, you can change back into your Germanic attire.”
She rested her hand on her chest as she looked down at what she was wearing. When her eyes turned back on his face, her grin lit the room.
Tiberius settled onto the couch as Otto entered. “I hope you enjoyed last night’s meal. It may be your last good one for a while. The food at a mansio is often…edible but not much more. And what we’ll take for the trail…” He shrugged.
He patted his couch, and Adela sat as if it were a chair. He swung his legs over the edge and joined her. “When in Germania, do as the Germans do. I might as well start this morning.”
He picked a plain roll from the basket on the table and handed it to her.
She took a small bite. “I won’t miss the food as much as the beds. I’ve been spoiled for sleeping on rocky ground.”
Tiberius took some dates for himself. “Soon you’ll see why we have three pack mules. They carry more than a library and some money for my son and grandsons. Three tents, three cots, bedding including pillows. We only need three because someone will be on watch all night. Perhaps best of all, the folding chair I used when I commanded a legion.”
His eyes crinkled. “It took Graecus some time to find where it had been stored more than fifteen years ago.”
“When I was governor, I had a friend from my legion days in Octodurus. If he’s still there, we’ll have another night of luxury.” He turned his gaze on Galen. “You can ask your Christian god for that tonight.”
The skepticism in Tiberius’s eyes reinforced the sarcasm dripping from his words.
Galen fought a smile. “Since you suggest it, I will.”
Tiberius rose. “Time to head out. It’s a long climb, and we’ll take some breaks to rest the horses.” As he passed, he rested his hand on Otto’s shoulder and squeezed. “But I think this time you all might enjoy it.”
Summus Poeninus, Day 58
Galen scraped the last of the stew from his bowl. Tiberius was right. The food at the mansio wasn’t terrible, but the quality made even him think twice before asking for a third serving.
The weather was warmer than before. No vicious wind, no snowflakes―a definite improvement, but he’d welcome the coldest winter storm to have Adela snuggled against him to stay warm.
The horses were secure in the garrison stable. Tiberius and Otto had already gone to bed. A little longer, and he’d join Adela. With so many men watching her with too much interest, he’d decided she should share his room. But at least he wouldn’t be on the hard stone floor.
He handed his bowl to the boy cleaning the tables and strolled across the courtyard to his room in the two-story building made of local stone. He knocked with the agreed-upon pattern.
“Who is it?
“Galen.”
“Come in.” She lay on the bed, smiling at him.
He loosened the straps around the folded cot and set it up. As he placed it across the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “Traveling with Tiberius certainly has advantages. This cot is much softer than the floors at the inns.”
Adela rolled on her side and propped her head on her elbow. “Nothing could be better than Tiberius’s beds. They’re like sleeping on pillows.”
“Traveling with a senator has many benefits. I’m glad he’s coming back with us.”
Galen sat on the cot and rested his elbows on his knees. With his forehead supported by clasped hands, he closed his eyes. His breathing slowed. God, I thank You for this day. For―
“Galen.”
He opened his eyes.
“You sit like that every night. What are you doing?”
“Talking with God.”
Her eyes saucered. “Talking? Like two people talk?” She lowered her eyes and fingered the blanket. When she looked at him again…was that longing? “What does your god’s voice sound like?”
“Most of the time, it’s not so much a voice as it’s thoughts that I know aren’t my own that come to me. When I’m faced with a hard decision, I ask Him about it, and then I know what to choose.”
“But that doesn’t always work. We went to Brigantium when Otto went to Octodurus.”
“Yes, but that sidetrack brought justice to Gundahar and Gerlach. Now they’ll never take another person’s freedom and sell them into misery.” He straightened and placed his hands on his thighs. “If we hadn’t added those seven days to our trip, we’d have caught up with Otto in Octodurus. Then we wouldn’t have gone to Rome, and Tiberius wouldn’t be going home with us to see Dec again.” Her first real question about God…he’d prayed for this for weeks. “So, I really did make the right decision when you look at everything.”
“And I wouldn’t have learned so much Latin or seen so many new things. Getting to know Tiberius and Otto has been wonderful, too. Tiberius treats me almost like a father would. And Otto’s such a nice man and so much fun. It’s easy to see why you would do anything to save him. I’m glad that decision made us go all the way
to Rome. This journey…it’s been the best time of my life.”
She lowered her cheek to the pillow. “Tiberius said we should leave as early as we can tomorrow. He’s not sure where we’ll be able to stay near Octodurus until we get there.”
She pulled the blanket up to her chin. “I’m so tired. Coming up this side of the pass seemed harder.”
“At least it’s warmer here in the mansio.”
“I didn’t mind sleeping in the stable. It wasn’t cold with you there. It’s good Otto’s so big that his blankets covered us both.”
Galen watched her eyes close. “I wasn’t cold, either.” Her breathing slowed; she’d drifted off before he could tell her he felt blessed by God to have her along.
The best time of her life. It had been the best time of his life, too. But was getting to know Otto the thing that made it so special for her?
She never failed to laugh when she talked with him. Otto was a tall, Germanic chieftain’s son, like she’d always admired. And he really was a good man. It would be hard to find a better man than Otto.
Any woman judging with only her eyes would choose Otto over him. But it really was the heart, not the height, that mattered, and if she would just let him lead her to Jesus…That was a barrier he could never cross.
Please, God, bring that barrier down. Claim her as yours so I can ask her to be mine.
Chapter 43: Everything He Wanted
Octodurus, Day 59
As Tiberius led them off the main road toward the estate that once belonged to his friend, he heard galloping hoofbeats behind them. With his hand on his sword, he turned in the saddle.
“Tiberius! Is that you?” A gray-haired man reached him and reined in. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m on my way to Germania Superior to start a new racing stable. It’s good to see you, Quintus.”