A Voice in the Wind

by Francine Rivers

  Each time she summoned him in this manner, another piece of his pride was chipped away. Only when he had her in his arms, begging for him to love her, did he feel his pride return. Yet later, in his cell, when he had nothing to do with his time but think, he hated himself.

  Sertes had told him yesterday that the games celebrating Liberalia would take place in two weeks. An elimination match had been planned. Twelve pairs would start; the survivor would be given his freedom. Atretes knew time was catching up to him, and this opportunity might be the last and only hope he’d ever have.

  Atretes decided if he lived through the match and gained his freedom, he would never be brought to Julia again. Julia would come to him! He’d buy a villa on Kuretes Street and send a servant to bring her, just as she now sent Hadassah to bring him.

  Over the past three years he had amassed enough money to live well in Ephesus or to buy passage back to Germania and take his rightful place once again as chief of the Chatti. Six months ago, there would have been no question in his mind what he would do. He wouldn’t even have thought of remaining in Ephesus. But now there was Julia.

  Atretes thought of the rude longhouses of his people and compared them to the marble halls of luxury in which Julia had been reared, and he wondered what to do. As his woman, she’d have a prominent position of respect in the community, but could she adjust to life such as he had known?

  Would she be willing to adjust?

  Hadassah brought him up an unfamiliar street. She walked more slowly than usual, and her expression was troubled. She paused at a winding marble stairway to a villa set into the hillside. “She awaits up there,” she said, and, after pointing the way, withdrew.

  “Obviously, this isn’t another inn. Is this one of her brother’s villas?”

  “No, my lord. The villa belongs to Calabah Fontaneus. My lady believes her to be her closest friend.”

  There was something unspoken in the way she explained it. Atretes looked at her curiously.

  “You enter through the lower door,” she said before he thought to ask any questions. Eager to be with Julia, Atretes dismissed his unease. He went up the stairway.

  The door stood open. He entered and found himself in a service corridor, with storage rooms off to each side and a stone stairway at the end. It reminded him of another meeting with Julia; she’d been waiting for him then.

  This time another woman stood in the shadows of the stairwell. He strode toward her, feeling her critical assessment with every step he took. She stood three steps from the bottom so that she was on eye level with him when he stopped before her. Her eyes drifted over him and she came down one step. She lifted the amulet he wore. Holding it in her open palm, she looked at it and then up at him, her mouth curving into a sardonic smile. “Ah,” she said, and Atretes looked into the coldest eyes he had ever seen.

  He brushed her hand away. “Where’s Julia?”

  “Awaiting her pleasure.” The woman laughed softly. The sound grated. “This way,” she said and turned her back on him.

  Eyes narrowed, Atretes followed her to the second floor. “Wait here,” she said and opened a door. He clenched his teeth in anger as she went in and he heard her say, “Julia, your gladiator has arrived,” in a tone so saturated with contempt that hot blood rushed into his face. Julia said something he couldn’t hear, but her tone was filled with agitation rather than excitement and expectation.

  Calabah came out again. “She’s not ready for you. Wait here and she’ll summon you when she is.” She raised one brow. “See that you serve her well,” she said and walked down the hall.

  Atretes glared after her with black fury, then exploded into action. He banged the door open and saw Julia sitting at a vanity table covered with vials of makeup and perfume. Two maids were fussing with her hair, both of whom froze at his entrance. “Out,” he said, jerking his head toward the door. They fled past him like mice escaping to their holes.

  Julia sat staring at him with dismay. “I wanted to look absolutely perfect before—”

  Atretes pulled her to her feet and yanked her into his arms. When she opened her mouth to protest, he covered it with his own. Her hair came loose beneath his fingers, and pearled pins dropped and scattered on the floor.

  Julia struggled. “You’re ruining my hair,” she gasped when he allowed her an instant to catch her breath.

  “Do you think I care about your hair?” he said roughly. “Except to do this.” He dug his hands into it, clenching it in his fists as he kissed her again.

  She pushed at him. “You’re hurting me. Stop it!” When he let her go abruptly, she withdrew angrily, touching at her hair and then turning on him in anger. “Do you know how long I had to sit there while they worked on it just so I would look beautiful for you?”

  “Wear it down then,” he said through his teeth. “Like the women they send to my cell.”

  Her eyes flashed. “You’re comparing me to a common whore?”

  “Are you forgetting how we met?” he said, still fuming that she had commanded he wait in the hallway. Who did she think he was? What did she think he was?

  Her own temper was roused. “Maybe we should wait for another time when you’re in a better mood!” she said, turning away. She waved her hand as though to dismiss him from her presence.

  Temper exploding, Atretes spun her around. “Oh no,” he said through his teeth. “Not yet.” After a few minutes, she was pliant and trembling, clinging to him. “Maybe you’re right,” he said with a sneering smile, suddenly letting her go so that she staggered backward. “Another time.”

  “Atretes! Where are you going?” she cried, feeling bereft and abandoned.

  “Back to the ludus.”

  She reached him before he opened the door. “What’s the matter with you this evening? Why are you acting like this? Why are you being so cruel to me?” She caught his hand as he reached for the latch. “Don’t leave me.” She put her arms around him and clung to him.

  He caught her arms and freed himself. “You pay Sertes and summon me like a harlot!”

  She looked stunned. “I don’t mean it like that and you know it! It was the only way I could find to be with you again. I’ve given Sertes half of my jewelry to be with you. I would give it all to him if that’s what it took. I love you, Atretes. Don’t you know that? I love you.” She pulled his head down and kissed him. “You love me, too. I know you do.”

  His desire rose swiftly, matching hers. “Don’t make me wait again,” he said, loosening the reins on his passion.

  For an hour Atretes was able to forget everything but what it felt like to be with Julia Valerian. But in the quiet that followed, he felt empty.

  He had to get away from her. He had to think.

  “Where are you going?” Julia asked.

  “I’m going back to the ludus,” he said shortly, defensive because she had never looked more beautiful than she did at that moment. He was still captivated by her, but somehow, perhaps even unknowingly, she only fed his inner hunger rather than fulfilled it.

  “But why? You can stay with me until near dawn. It’s all been arranged.”

  “Not with me,” he said coldly. He looked around the luxurious bedchamber and thought of the foul, arrogant woman who owned this house. “I won’t come here again.”

  Julia sat up. “But why not? Calabah said I could use her house whenever I want. This is the perfect meeting place for us!” She recognized the banked anger in his eyes and the stubborn set of his jaw. He was going to be unreasonable. “Where do you suggest we meet, Atretes? Do you expect me to come to your vile little cell?”

  He gave her a sardonic look. “Why not? It might be a new and exciting experience for you.”

  “Everyone in Ephesus would know by morning.”

  A muscle locked in his jaw. “So that’s the way of it.” He took up his belt and put it on.

  Julia saw that he was insulted. “No, it isn’t! You know it isn’t. My family wouldn’t approve of us. My father an
d brother hold very important positions in the community. If either of them found out I’d taken a gladiator as a lover, they’d put me under guard to keep you from me. Can’t you understand? Atretes, they’d marry me off to some rich old man at the far ends of the Empire. They did so once before!”

  “And if I were free?”

  She blinked. The possibility had seemed so remote, she had tried never to think about it. “I don’t know,” she stammered. “It would change everything.” She frowned slightly.

  Atretes’ eyes narrowed. He could see her mind working on all the possibilities. His mouth curved into a cynical, bitter smile.

  “Atretes,” she said as though speaking to a child, “it’ll be years before you earn your freedom and you know it. We can’t wait upon that hope. We have to enjoy every minute we have with each other.”

  Atretes put on his sandals. The pounding in his head was like a drum he used to hear in the forest.

  “Don’t go,” Julia said, sensing that something was very wrong between them. When he straightened, she held out her hands. “Stay with me. Why are you being so stubborn? You know you want to stay.”

  “Do I?”

  She dropped her hands into her lap and clenched them, hurt that he was being so cavalier. Cloaking herself in pride, she tipped her chin. “Shall I contact Sertes later in the week, or would you rather be left alone?”

  His mouth curved sardonically as he opened the door. “I always forego women before I fight in the games,” he said.

  Fear gripped her at his careless words. “What games?” she said, panicking with the knowledge that she might lose him. He walked out the door. “Atretes!”

  He strode down the lamplit corridor and took the stairs three at a time. “Get out of my way,” he said to a burly guard in the main hallway and went straight out the front door. He heard her calling out his name. When he reached the bottom of the stairway and stepped onto the street below, he stopped to fill his lungs with clean air. Glancing back, he saw she hadn’t cared enough to follow him into the street, where she would be seen.

  He looked around, uncertain where he was, and swore violently. All he had thought about on the way here was being with Julia again. He should have paid more attention to the route.

  Soft footsteps made him swing around instinctively, ready to counter any attack. The slave girl stood near the gate, looking up at him. “I’ll show you the way,” she said.

  “Not before I’ve had time to walk.”

  He knew she followed, but he didn’t slow his pace. Others were there in the darkness to watch him as well, others sent by Sertes to guard his investment. He could have called to them to show him the way. A galling thought. Take me back to prison. Put the chains on again.

  He saw the temple of Artemis, but some hand seemed to turn him away from it. Instead, he found himself following a road that led to the arena. When he reached it, he stood for a long time, looking up at it, hearing the echo of screams, smelling the blood. Closing his eyes, he wondered why, with the few hours of solitude and freedom he had, he would end up here.

  He wandered among the deserted stalls beneath the spectator stands, where all manner of debauchery was sold. He found an entrance and went up the steps. Moonlight filled the stadium, and he found his way easily to the box where highly honored Roman officials sat. Sailcloth rippled above him. One awning had come loose; the others had been rolled back and secured, leaving the platform open to the sky.

  Atretes looked down on the sand. Soon Julia would be sitting here where he stood now, watching him fight for his life. Watching him take life. And she’d enjoy it.

  The little Jewess stood beside him.

  “We both serve Julia, don’t we?” he said, but she didn’t answer. He glanced at her and saw she looked around the arena as though she’d never been in one before. She was visibly trembling, shaken to be in this place of death.

  “I’ll fight down there in a few days,” he said. “Sertes scheduled me for the elimination match. Do you know what that is?” She shook her head without looking at him, and he explained. “It would seem Artemis has smiled down upon me,” he said dryly and looked away. “This time next week, I’ll either be dead or a free man.”

  Atretes looked down at the sand again. It was like a white moonlit sea. Clean. Yet he remembered the stain of blood from every man he had ever killed. “Maybe death is the only freedom.”

  Hadassah took his hand. “No,” she said softly.

  Surprised, Atretes looked down at her, amazed that she had touched him at all. She held his hand as though one of them was a child.

  “No,” she said again and, turning to face him, she held his hand firmly between both of her own. “It’s not the only freedom, Atretes.”

  “What other freedom is there for a man like me?”

  “The freedom God gives.”

  He took his hand from hers. “If your god failed to save Caleb, he won’t protect me. Better that I put my trust in Artemis.”

  “Artemis is nothing but dead stone.”

  “She bears the symbol of Tiwaz, the spirit god of the Black Forests of my homeland.” He lifted the amulet he wore around his neck. His talisman.

  She looked at it sadly. “A goat is used to lead sheep to slaughter.”

  His fist closed around the amulet. “So I should become a Jew?” he said sardonically.

  “I’m a Christian.”

  He let out his breath sharply, staring down at her as though she were a dove that had suddenly sprouted horns. Christians were fodder to the arena. Exactly why, he’d never understood; what threat to Rome were people who wouldn’t fight? Perhaps that was it. Romans prized courage, even in their victims. Cowardice drove them to frenzy. Christians were fed to the lions because it was a shameful thing, reserved for the worst criminals and the lowest cowards. The only death more humiliating than that was to be hung on a cross.

  Why had she told him she was a Christian? Why had she taken the risk? He could tell Sertes, who was always looking for victims to serve up to a hungry mob; he could tell Julia, who spoke freely of her contempt for Christians.

  He frowned, aware Julia couldn’t know her personal maid was of this deviant cult. “Better that you keep this to yourself,” he said.

  “I have,” Hadassah said. “I’ve kept it to myself for too long. This might be the last chance I have to speak with you, Atretes, and I fear for your soul. I must tell you—”

  “I have no soul,” he said, cutting her off. He didn’t know what a soul was. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  “You have. All have. Please listen,” she pleaded. “God lives, Atretes. Turn to him. Cry out to him and he’ll answer. Ask Jesus to come into your heart.”

  “Jesus. Who’s Jesus?”

  She opened her mouth to speak.

  “Be silent,” he said suddenly, sharply, and she, too, heard the guards coming. A paralyzing fear swept through her as she glanced up and saw the Roman soldiers a few rows above them, watching like birds of prey. She remembered the screams of the dying in Jerusalem, the forest of crosses outside the broken walls, the suffering survivors. Her mouth went dry.

  “Time to return, Atretes,” one said. “Dawn’s coming.” The others stood ready should he refuse to obey.

  Atretes nodded. His eyes flickered to meet Hadassah’s, and he frowned slightly. “You were foolish to tell me anything,” he said so only she could hear.

  She tried not to weep. “I was foolish not to tell you everything sooner.”

  “Say no more,” he commanded and saw her eyes glisten with tears.

  She put her hand on his arm. “I will pray for you,” she said, and her hand tightened as though to hold him there and make him listen. “I pray God forgives me my fear and grants us another chance to talk.”

  Atretes frowned, perplexed and strangely touched. He turned away and went up the steps, the guards falling in around him, hedging him in. When he reached the opening into the corridor that led to the stairs out, he looked back. Hada
ssah was still standing there.

  He’d never looked into such eyes before, eyes so full of compassion that they pierced through the hardness of his heart.

  “He said he’s fighting in the games again,” Julia said, upset that Calabah had stopped her from going after Atretes.

  “Well, of course he’s fighting in the games. He’s a gladiator.”

  “Don’t you understand? He could die! The only games scheduled are in celebration of Libernalia, and Sertes is planning an elimination match. Marcus told me yesterday. Atretes won’t be fighting just one man or two.” She pressed her fists against her temples. “I was such a fool, such a fool. I never even thought what it might mean. What if I lose him? I couldn’t bear it, Calabah. I couldn’t.”

  “And what if he lives?” Calabah said in a strange tone that made Julia glance at her.

  “Sertes would have to free him.”

  “And what then? What would he expect of you?”

  “I don’t know. I’d marry him if he wanted.”

  “You would be so foolish?” she said disdainfully. “He’s worse than Caius, Julia.”

  “He’s not. He’s nothing like Caius. He was angry with me because I left him standing in the hallway.”

  “I’m not speaking of his violence, though there is that to consider. I’m speaking of the way he controls you. His pride gets a little bruised and he leaves. And what do you do? Do you bide your time and wait for him to come to his senses and apologize? You should have seen yourself, Julia, running after him. It was embarrassing to see you behave so badly.”

  Julia blushed. “I wanted him to stay.”

  “Anyone in Ephesus could’ve seen how much you wanted him to stay,” Calabah said. “Just who is it that controls this relationship?”

  Julia looked away, remembering Atretes’ cutting remark about abstaining from women before the games. Did he have others when he wasn’t with her? She hoped she was the only woman in his life, but what if she were just one among many?