“They have the advantage of the high walls. Many of our men would die needlessly,” Tribune Marcus rebutted. “Let us build the siege engines again. It will take time, yes, but it will also save lives.”
Titus glanced at him. “And where would we get the supplies to build them? We have already stripped every tree around here for miles.”
“Perhaps,” Andronicus suggested, “if we tighten security around the city walls...”
“We already tried that,” Sestus argued, “and they still manage to sneak through.”
Titus turned to Andronicus, his dark eyes glinting. “You had an excellent idea, Andronicus, about keeping the men occupied. If we are going to prolong this siege, then to make it work, we need to fortify our defenses.”
That was the very reason Andronicus and his men were out scouting the hillsides. Laying siege to a city was a tedious, time-consuming business and when men had too much time on their hands, problems from boredom usually arose. He tried to keep his men busy to avoid any such possibility.
“Since so many people are still leaving the city to scrounge for food in the area outside the city, and since we know that supplies are being smuggled into the city somehow, we are going to build an earthen siege wall around the entire city.”
Andronicus knew exactly what we meant.
“How soon do you want us to begin?” one tribune asked.
The general stood and glanced at each one of his soldiers. “Right now, Quintas. Give the order to your centurions.”
Slamming their fists against their chest in salute, they quickly exited the general’s tent.
Andronicus found one of his centurions and gave the order. He knew the men were bound to grumble, but they would still respond with deadly enthusiasm. Anything to limit this siege and allow them to return to their homes.
The men set to with a will. At the rate they were going, it was going to take less time than Andronicus had originally anticipated but still longer than the time limit he had given Tapat. He could only pray that she would do nothing foolish, like try to set out for Pella on her own. She was bound to be spotted if the sharav heat didn’t kill her first.
He needed to find a way to get her some supplies and get her out of here, and he needed to do it now.
He backtracked his way to Titus’s tent, intent on somehow finding a way to be relieved of duty for a short period. No matter what he could think of to say, it was still going to seem suspicious, his wanting to leave now. Still, it was going to take some time to build the siege wall and still longer to wait out the city’s starvation.
He heard a commotion outside the general’s tent. Andronicus had to forge his way through a barricade of packed soldier bodies to make it to the entrance. He could hear Titus’s raised voice speaking to someone inside, and he didn’t envy the person who had incurred his wrath.
When he ducked inside, he found out what all the tumult was about. Arius was standing at Titus’s side and Tapat was kneeling before Titus’s feet, eyes focused on the rug she was kneeling upon. Andronicus felt his heart cease momentarily then drum at the speed of a racing chariot. His eyes sought the general’s face, and his breathing almost stopped at the intense look of rage there.
“I will not repeat myself again, woman. Answer me!”
It took great courage for Tapat to lift her face and, with great deliberation, shake her head at the general’s command.
“I have told you the truth. I am no spy.”
When Titus lifted his hand to strike her, Andronicus, knowing the power behind that arm, was released from the shocked stupor Tapat’s sudden appearance had generated. He quickly stepped forward and stayed the general’s hand by gripping his wrist. Surprised, Titus glared at Andronicus.
“My lord, I know this woman.”
Although the anger never left Titus’s face, he relaxed somewhat at Andronicus’s statement. But the eyes that met his held a warning, and the pointed look he gave Andronicus’s hand gripping his brought his instant release.
“She was found hiding in a cave near here,” Titus growled. “What do you know of this?”
“He knows nothing,” Tapat interjected quickly.
“Silence, woman,” Titus bellowed. He turned back to Andronicus, his look one of suspicion. It was not surprising that he would be doubtful knowing that there were spies among them, and Titus was not known for showing mercy to spies.
“This woman saved my life and the life of my men. I owe her.” He met the general’s look head-on without flinching. He was a soldier of Rome, but he would not back down on this issue regardless of the threatening looks thrown his way.
Titus glared at him for several long seconds before he motioned around the tent.
“Leave us.”
Surprised at the command but conditioned to obey, the others left quickly. Only Titus, Andronicus and Tapat, still kneeling at the general’s feet, remained.
Titus leaned against the table displaying the map of Jerusalem. He folded his muscled arms across his broad chest and glared at his tribune and then his captive.
“Explain.”
The very softness of the command warned of feelings held tightly in check.
Andronicus did so in as few words as possible. When he had finished, Titus gave him a peculiar look.
“I see. And what exactly would you have me do with her?”
Andronicus took a deep breath before meeting the general’s eyes. “I would like to see that she gets safely to Pella, just north of here.”
Titus glanced from Tapat to Andronicus. “Perhaps...if she is willing to give us some helpful information.”
Tapat looked up at him, the fear in her eyes evident, yet her voice was firm when she answered him. “I have already told you. I know nothing.”
Andronicus willed himself to appear unconcerned. “My lord, she is after all but a woman.”
He ignored the flash of anger that darkened Tapat’s eyes, his lips twitching as he hid a grin. If not for Titus’s presence, he had no doubt that she would let him know in no uncertain terms what she thought of such a statement.
Titus stared at Tapat for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Don’t forget, Andronicus, that Rome was built on the backs of treacherous women.”
Although that was indeed true, Andronicus thought it wise to remain silent. He wasn’t certain what Titus saw when searching Tapat’s features so diligently, but the air suddenly left him in a rush.
The general looked at Andronicus, but he couldn’t begin to interpret what he saw on his commander’s face. “A soldier always honors a debt,” he agreed.
Andronicus didn’t even realize that he had been silently petitioning Tapat’s God for His intervention until he fervently thanked Him in his mind.
“As soon as the siege walls are finished, you may take a few men and escort the lady to Pella,” Titus told him. “I don’t expect the siege to last long, and I will need you here when we begin our assault of the city.”
Titus’s narrowed eyes settled on Tapat once again, but he spoke to Andronicus.
“Have one of your men take the woman to your tent and see that she stays there. I would have a word with you.”
Andronicus slammed his fist against his chest in salute, glancing briefly at Tapat. He went to the tent opening and called Arius inside.
“Take the woman to my tent and see that she remains.” He cast his friend a speaking glance.
Andronicus’s eyes connected with Tapat’s as she passed him. Trust me, he told her silently. She warily eyed the general before giving a quick nod to let him know she understood.
He watched her walk away, hoping that he could live up to that trust.
Chapter 3
Andronicus faced his superior, fairly certain what was on Titus’s mind. The inside of the tent was lit only by t
he burning braziers and what little light penetrated from the opening. The planes and shadows on the man’s face masked his youth, making it look as fierce as when he marched into battle.
Titus glanced at Andronicus, one eyebrow lifted. “You are one of my finest soldiers, Andronicus. Are you certain you understand where your priorities lie?”
Deciding that the best defense was a quick and effective offense, he told Titus, “I will not deny that I have feelings for the woman, my liege, but they do not surpass my love of Rome.”
He wasn’t exactly certain that what he had just said was true. Rome was slowly killing itself with its depredations and its constant thirst for more power. Andronicus had become increasingly weary of the incessant battles to procure more land for an empire that was having a progressively hard time holding on to the lands it had already conquered.
Titus went to a table in the corner and lifted a small bag. Coming back to stand before Andronicus, he opened the bag and allowed several gold coins to fall into his cupped palm.
“And how do you explain these? Arius confiscated them from the woman. People in the city are starving and money is scarce. How came she by such a fortune if not for information she has been giving the enemy?”
Andronicus knew about the money that Leah had given Tapat, but he hadn’t realized that it was a small fortune. At least he could clear up that misconception. He explained about the bequest Leah had given to Tapat and her reasons for doing so.
He didn’t miss Titus’s skeptical look. Frankly, he couldn’t blame the general. This whole situation was enough to twist a person’s mind. Titus studied him from under lowered brows.
“I heard that Tindarium had married a Jewess. But as for you, Tribune, there is a reason that legionnaires are forbidden to marry. Rome will not tolerate divided loyalties.”
“I understand, sir, but my honor will not allow me to neglect so great a debt as what I owe this woman. And not only me—several of my soldiers are indebted to her, as well. Dictum meum pactum.” It was the truth. His word was his bond and he would never go back on it.
Titus stared at him for several long seconds and Andronicus willed himself to remain still under that stern scrutiny. If Titus doubted Tapat’s innocence in the least, her life wouldn’t be worth a mina. Seemingly satisfied, Titus relaxed.
“As I told you already, the men will be building a siege wall around the city. I foresee it taking several weeks. Once that is completed, you may repay your debt. In the meantime, the woman is your responsibility.”
Andronicus didn’t miss the implied threat and, once again, slammed his chest in salute. He then hastened from the tent before the young officer could change his mind.
* * *
Tapat paced the small confines of Andronicus’s tent. What was she to do now? Andronicus’s look implored her to trust him, and she did, but the same couldn’t be said of his general.
When brought to Titus’s tent, she was amazed that he was so young, but one look at his face told her he was no callow youth. Young in age he might be, but his features told a different tale of a seasoned warrior. If all of Rome’s army was like him, Jerusalem didn’t stand a chance.
She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. The soldiers who found her in the cave had confiscated her gold. Without that gold, she wasn’t certain how she would survive. But right now, that was the least of her worries.
Oh, she knew the Christians in Pella would see that she wanted for nothing, but she hated the thought of being beholden to anyone. Besides, the weekly collection was for those who were destitute or unable to work. She didn’t consider herself to be either, but that was something she would work out when she got to Pella. If she got to Pella.
She glanced around the inside of the tent, noting that Andronicus was as meticulously clean with his quarters as he was with his person. She had always admired that about him.
As evening was falling outside, the illumination from the braziers lessened. She huddled closer to the one that lit the area surrounding the sleeping mat, instinctively feeling the need to be closer to the waning light.
The tent was bigger than many that surrounded it but not nearly as large as the general’s. Titus’s tent was grander than most of the homes her people lived in. No expense had been spared for Emperor Vespasian’s son. Her mouth had watered at the selection of food sitting on a table in the general’s quarters, and she realized that for the first time in days, she was hungry.
Tapat picked up the pitcher of water on the table and poured herself a cup. After quenching her thirst, she sat down on the bedroll, pulling the pillow up and hugging it to her chest in an unconscious need for security. Andronicus’s scent lingered on the pillow, the mixture of man and sandalwood pleasant and, somehow, calming.
The only other items in the tent were a large chest sitting against the far wall, a small table at the bedside and the braziers set systematically around to provide light where it was most needed. The Spartan quarters fit his personality.
Her curiosity aroused by the chest, she was tempted to go and open it when Andronicus entered the tent.
She quickly pushed the pillow aside, embarrassed to have been caught cuddling it, and got to her feet.
“You are to remain here until the siege wall is built,” he said, glancing sideways at her.
Did he mean here in this tent? Her eyes widened in apprehension and she swallowed hard. Seeing her concern, he came close and took her by the shoulders. She had to look a long way up to read what was in those deep brown eyes.
“I will stay with Arius in his tent,” he told her reassuringly, and the dread she had been feeling lessened. This was Andronicus; he would never hurt her. Would he? But what did she really know about him? Only that he was a very integral part of Rome.
She was startled at the fierce look that unexpectedly filled his face, especially in lieu of her earlier thoughts.
“I know it will be hard for you. This is not what I had planned.”
“It’s what Elohim has willed,” she told him softly, knowing with complete trust that it was the truth.
He stared at her for a long moment before heaving a deep sigh and releasing her. He turned away and went to the chest against the wall. “Your God is a confusing god,” he told her, a decided edge to his voice.
Tapat thrilled to the fact that he was at least acknowledging Elohim. She had been praying for this soldier of Rome for a very long time. If only he would come to know her lord as his friend Lucius had. She had rejoiced for Anna when she’d received word of Lucius’s conversion to the Way.
“Our scriptures tell us to trust in the Lord with all our heart and lean not on our own understanding. If we knew all the reasons for everything that happens in this life, we would be God.”
“I suppose that is true,” he acknowledged reluctantly. He glanced at her and his eyes held a question. “So your God has willed that you be here with me?”
Tapat’s heart responded to the throatiness of his voice and drummed an ever-increasing beat. “So it would seem.”
The look he gave her made her want to run from the tent, but that would be like jumping from the pot into the fire. What was he thinking that darkened his eyes to obsidian? She shivered in an unconscious response.
He gave a soft snort, opened the lid to his trunk, reached inside and pulled out a small leather sack. He brought it over and handed it to her.
“It’s not as much as what Leah gave you, but it should help you to get settled.”
She opened the sack and found it full of silver coins. She looked up at him in surprise.
“I cannot accept this!”
He frowned in annoyance. “Why not? You accepted more than that from Leah.”
How was she to explain the difference to him without being offensive?
“Leah’s was a gift.” Of love, she told him
, but only in her thoughts.
Casting her look to the ground so that he couldn’t read what was in her mind, she tried to return the sack, but he pushed it back at her.
“As is this,” he told her. The look on his face was meant to quell any desire to argue, and it took more strength than she realized she possessed not to capitulate.
“Leah’s was a gift of love for the years of service I gave her.” She pushed the bag into his hands again.
“And this is a gift to repay that which Rome has stolen from you,” he rebutted, trying to give it back.
Tapat placed her hands behind her back. “It is not your debt to pay.”
Various expressions chased across his face. He cupped her cheek with his palm, rubbing his thumb across her lips, and all desire to argue fled.
“Do not forget the debt I owe you. Surely you would agree that my life is worth more than these few coins.”
She could not argue differently, for no amount of money would make up for his life.
“Do not fight me on this, Tapat,” he told her huskily. “You will not win.”
The words of Solomon came suddenly to her mind. A gift opens the way for the giver. She had given Andronicus the gift of her protection and he was returning the favor. It would be churlish to refuse, yet her pride was her worst enemy. But then, how could she ever repay her debt to Christ for all He’d done for her? A gift given in love should be accepted in the same way, even if that love was what the Greeks called phileo, a brotherly love, whereas hers had been more what they called eros, a woman’s love for a man. She reached out and took the bag, her eyes meeting his.
“Thank you, Andronicus.”
A look of relief crossed his face and he dropped his hand to his side. They continued to stare at one another until a rap on the tent brought their attention to the man standing at the entrance.
He glanced from one to the other, a smile twitching at his lips. “It’s time, Tribune. Titus has gathered the troops.”
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