by Carol Ashby
He took a deep breath to calm himself. The anger faded, and deep concern replaced it. He handed her the purse before placing his hands on her upper arms. She tensed when he first touched her, but his grip was so gentle that she relaxed immediately.
An urge to pull her close surged through him. An urge to wrap her in his arms to protect and comfort her. Where had that come from? The fear had drained from her eyes, but clasping her to himself would probably replace it with anger. It was not his place to embrace her for any reason.
“I will, but you won’t have to worry about that as long as you do what I tell you instead of something stupid like this. I don’t want to see you hurt, Cornelia. I will get you safely to Perinthus if you just do what I say and let me take care of you.”
She offered a rueful smile as she nodded. “I promise I’ll consult you before I do anything stupid again.” Her regret was clear in both voice and eyes.
He took a breath and blew it out. She was staring at the ground, so she didn’t see the corners of his mouth tip up as he released her. “Good. Now let’s go. It’s past time we should have left the harbor.”
He glanced down at her as she walked back at his side. He’d never seen her so subdued. She was looking at anything but him. So completely unlike what he’d come to expect from his regal passenger, and he didn’t like it. Strange as it might seem, it was much better when she was so sure of herself with those joking eyes and playful words that he didn’t always know how to answer. She shouldn’t still be afraid of him. It was time to break the silence.
“Did you get what Drusilla wanted?”
She looked up at his face, then relaxed. “Yes. I found just the thing. I’m sure she’ll want to read it with you.” She took a deep breath as her eyes locked on his. “I don’t want her to know I almost got hurt getting it. Please don’t tell her.”
He smiled down at her. She and her daughter were so much alike; each wanted to protect the other. “As you wish, but only if you don’t try to do this again.”
A slow breath escaped her, and she offered him an appreciative smile in return. “I won’t, Captain. I seldom make the same mistake twice.”
He kept glancing at her as he escorted her down the pier and up the gangplank. It had been an eye-opening morning. His stomach had knotted too much when he saw her in the fight. He hadn’t meant to get so angry and frighten her, but seeing her in danger had really shaken him.
Who would have thought this woman who had a way of constantly disturbing his balance would no longer be just a passenger to him? Her daughter had become much more than a little girl in need of comfort. He would be sorry when they left his ship…and his life…when they reached Perinthus.
Anthusa pulled the brush slowly through Cornelia’s luxurious hair as her mistress sat smiling at the mirror. It was one of those dreamy smiles that Anthusa particularly enjoyed.
Mistress’s eyes glowed as she fingered the gold hair pick. “This morning was more exciting than I would have chosen, but it’s been a lovely day anyway. I know I made the captain angry, but I’m still glad we got that scroll for Drusilla. She loved it, and I loved watching the captain read it to her.”
She leaned close to the mirror and stroked the shallow crow’s feet by her right eye. “I do wish that thief hadn’t tried to rob me. I don’t want him to think I’m a fool, and hanging onto the purse…well, I can’t believe I did that.” She sighed.
She turned to face Anthusa directly. “He was so mad at me for fighting the thief. It really was stupid of me. But you know, I think he got so angry because it scared him that I could have been hurt.”
“I think so, too, mistress.”
“Do you think that was only because he wanted to protect Drusilla from losing me? I guess the only thing he really did say was about how it would affect Drusilla. I can tell how much he cares about her. I might only be imagining anything more.”
“I don’t think so. I can see the captain loves your daughter, but I don’t think that’s all. I watched him as we walked back. When you weren’t looking at him, I think he was looking at you like he cared about you, too.”
Mistress’s eyebrows lifted. “Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel good?”
“No, mistress. I also saw how he talked with you for a while at dinner before he moved over to sit with Malleolus. He hasn’t been doing that before unless you asked him to. He did it himself tonight.”
A thoughtful smile lit up Mistress’s eyes. “You’re right. He did, didn’t he? Of course, we only talked about what it’s like around Perinthus, but I did always have to ask him to join me before.”
She turned back to the mirror. “Malleolus told me that Corinth was about the half-way point on the way to Perinthus. Two weeks isn’t much time for a man to decide whether he wants a woman or not. I would really like the captain to want to marry me.”
Her eyes turned sad. “The only men who ever wanted me only wanted me because of my money or my family connections. I would so love to have a man want me just for me.” She leaned on her elbows to gaze at the plain face reflecting in the mirror. “I would so love to have the captain want me.”
Anthusa nodded her agreement. Any man would be lucky to have the mistress as his wife. She had such a generous heart. Even as a girl of fourteen, Mistress Cornelia had appreciated her faithful service. She was only five years older than the mistress, and they had shared so much in the past twenty-five years. It was a pleasure to serve a mistress who always treated her like a friend.
If only there were something she could do to help the captain realize he wanted Mistress as much as she wanted him.
Chapter 20: In the Open
The next evening, supper had been cleared away, and a rising evening breeze made the canopy flutter. Cornelia’s thoughts were aflutter, too. She’d spent most of supper listening to the conversation between Hector and Malleolus and wishing she’d been the recipient of the captain’s focused attention for as long.
When he first came down from the cabin top, he’d chosen to sit next to her and ask how she’d enjoyed her day. He’d listened as if she were telling him something important as she described one exceptionally pretty part of the coast. Then she made the mistake of telling him she was especially enjoying herself at that moment, that telling him about what she’d seen was even better than seeing it. He’d turned silent, as if he hadn’t known what to say. Then he’d excused himself and moved on to Malleolus.
As she watched him rest his forearms on his thighs and lean into the conversation she had no part of, she felt strangely hollow. She was hungry for his company, and she’d only had the appetizer instead of the full meal.
Hector hadn’t expected Cornelia to tell him so frankly that his attention pleased her. Since Corinth, he found himself wanting to spend more time talking with her. She was an interesting woman who could describe the most ordinary scene with words that painted its beauty vividly in his mind. She was good with words. Sometimes too good. That gave her an unfair advantage talking with a blunt-speaking man like him. She had a habit of taking something he said and turning its meaning into something funny or embarrassing that left him trying to explain what he really meant.
But even when it might seem she was laughing at him, the look in her eyes told him she wasn’t. She just had a playful nature that couldn’t resist teasing him sometimes, but somehow that felt good even when it made him uncomfortable. He found himself smiling when she did that. It had been a long time since he’d found it so easy to smile.
Something about her had begun attracting him as a man, and that could become a problem. That attraction surged when she said she especially enjoyed his company that evening. He’d like it to be true, but she was probably only playing with words again. An aristocrat like her was out of his class, and he’d be foolish to let himself become too fond of her.
As he rose to leave them to enjoy the evening by themselves, he yielded to the temptation to walk close to Cornelia. She
smelled of roses today―his favorite. Even if she was beyond his reach, he could at least enjoy her perfume.
“Captain.”
He was heading for the cabin top, but he stopped to hear what she had to say. “Yes, Cornelia?”
“I think there’s something you should know that might increase your enjoyment this trip.”
“What would that be?”
“My father-in-law, Publius, was a Christian. Since we went to the restaurant in Corinth, we all know you are, too.”
He tensed. It probably wasn’t dangerous for her to know, but he thought he’d been careful enough that she wouldn’t.
Cornelia saw him freeze at her words. She hadn’t meant to worry him. She only wanted to say something that he might especially enjoy hearing. Since the next day was Sunday, she knew exactly what that might be.
“I believe tomorrow is the day Christians usually worship, and I don’t want you to feel you need to hide your worship tomorrow morning, like you have the last two weeks. It is perfectly safe for you to do it in front of us.”
His whole body relaxed. Then a warm smile spread across his face until he was beaming. His obvious delight that he and his crew would be able to enjoy their worship without time constraints and secrecy was even greater than she expected.
“I’m very glad to hear that. Thank you for telling me.”
She smiled a gracious smile in return. She wasn’t quite sure what else to say.
The captain tipped his head. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
She watched him walk quickly along the cabin until he turned the corner. The hollow feeling was gone. They hadn’t talked much, but it warmed her own heart to have told him something that made him so happy, even if she didn’t understand why.
Cornelia’s braid tumbled down her back as Anthusa pulled out the last of the gold picks that held it in place. As Anthusa began untwisting the strands in preparation for brushing, Cornelia leaned on her elbows and gazed at her maid in the mirror.
“I did so enjoy talking with the captain at dinner tonight. The only problem was he didn’t stay with me long enough. I’m not entirely sure what I said that made him want to leave. Could you tell?”
“Not really, mistress. I thought he was truly enjoying himself. He wasn’t looking at anything but you. It seemed to me there was admiration in his eyes.”
Cornelia turned to look directly at Anthusa. “Admiration? I wish it were so, but that’s not likely.”
She turned back to the mirror and gazed at her plain features. The brush slipped through her thick hair. “I certainly admire him. There isn’t a single thing about the captain that isn’t admirable.”
“Any man who was smart could say the same of you, mistress.”
“That’s not true. We both know I’m not pretty…never have been.”
“No one has prettier eyes. Besides, I said a smart man. A smart man would admire you for much more than whether you were pretty.”
Cornelia smiled at her devoted slave. “Then let’s hope the captain is a very smart man.”
Anthusa had almost finished brushing when Cornelia spoke again. “I’m glad I told him we knew about him being a Christian. I’ve never seen him look happier. It was as if I’d given him a very expensive gift. Why should getting to worship on deck delight him that much?”
“I don’t know, mistress, but I can’t remember seeing a bigger smile on a man.”
“I never understood why Publius wouldn’t offer a sacrifice to Caesar and save himself. It seemed like such a small thing to ask. It’s not like the sacrifices to the Roman gods actually mean anything. Publius himself convinced me they aren’t real when he first became a God-fearer and tried to tell Lucius about it when he dined with us. I don’t understand why Christians won’t make the sacrifice when it would save their lives.”
Anthusa nodded her head but didn’t reply as she continued brushing.
“I hope he talks to his men close enough to the canopy that we can hear. I’m curious about what he’s going to do that it made him so happy.”
“You can stand at the rail where you can hear. I don’t think the captain would mind that.”
“No, I don’t think he would, either.”
Anthusa made the final brush strokes and set the brush down on the table.
“There. All loose and lovely. Any man would admire your hair, not just the smart ones.” She pulled her fingers through the free-flowing tresses one last time.
Cornelia’s eyes shone as she looked at Anthusa in the mirror. “If I were a vain woman, you’d be invaluable. You always point out my best and ignore my worst. It would be nice if that was what the captain saw, too.”
“Perhaps he does, mistress. I do think I saw admiration.”
Cornelia moved from the chair to her bed. “I hope you’re right.”
Chapter 21: First Steps
Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. Except for the sailor manning the rudders, Hector’s whole crew had gathered on deck and was waiting for the worship to begin.
As Hector emerged from the cabin with his copy of the gospel written by Luke, Malleolus was waiting for him.
“Captain, if you don’t mind, I would like to join you and listen. Publius wanted to tell me about his faith in Jesus, but he was killed before I let him.”
Hector placed his hand on Malleolus’s shoulder and beamed at him. “You are very welcome.”
As the crewmen sat down on the hatch covering the hold and on the deck in front of Hector, Malleolus took his place at the rear of the group. Drusilla came over and sat down beside him. He smiled down at her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Cornelia was reluctant to sit as close as Malleolus and Drusilla. She didn’t want to be where Hector could see plainly what she was thinking. From his delighted response the night before, it was obvious this was extremely important to him. She didn’t want him to see any negative reaction she might have, so she stayed back at the railing where she could listen relatively unobserved.
Hector closed his eyes and raised his hand. “We come this morning to worship You, Father, with our prayers and praise. Fill us with Your Spirit so our worship may be worthy for You to receive.”
Calamus began strumming a lyre, and the voices of the crew blended in song. Cornelia drew a breath and held it. How could this collection of rugged men produce such beautiful music? The smiles on their faces and their glowing eyes revealed a delight like she’d never seen before. No wonder Hector was so glad when she told him they could worship in the open. They could never have sung like this hiding in the crew quarters.
Too soon, the singing ended. Hector held the codex to his chest and closed his eyes. An aura of tranquility surrounded him as he stood breathing slowly and smiling. Then he raised the codex over his head.
“We thank You, Father, for the gift of Your son, Jesus, to save us from our sins, and for this gospel that You have given us that we may know Him. May Your Spirit fill me and give me Your words this day. In the name of Jesus, I pray.”
He opened his eyes and lowered the codex. Before he opened it, he looked directly at Cornelia. As his eyes met hers, a smile of sheer delight overspread his face. Cornelia’s breath caught. She’d never seen a man look so happy. Was that because she’d come to hear him?
Her heart rate rose as her cheeks and ears warmed. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from his. What was he thinking? His smile, his eyes―they looked like those of a man deeply in love, but that couldn’t be. At least not yet.
He finally broke the connection. She was both relieved and sorry when he focused his eyes on the codex again. He turned to the page he wanted and began to read.
“Once when Jesus was praying in private and his disciples were with him, he asked them, ‘Who do the crowds say I am?’ They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and still others, that one of the prophets of long ago has come back to life.’ ‘But what about you?’ He asked. ‘Who
do you say I am?’ Peter answered, ‘The Christ of God.’ Jesus strictly warned them not to tell this to anyone. And he said, ‘The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and teachers of the law, and he must be killed, and on the third day be raised to life.’ Then he said to them all: ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit his very self? If anyone is ashamed of me and my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels. I tell you the truth, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the kingdom of God.’”
Cornelia stared at Hector. Here was the explanation for the question that had plagued her for eight years. So many times, her anger at Lucius had burned white hot as she thought about the horrible way Publius had been killed. The question of why Publius let himself be killed in the arena had been unanswerable. One meaningless sacrifice to Caesar, and he would have been freed. Here, carried by the deep, rich voice of the man she wanted, was the answer.
But it was a confusing answer. How can a man save his life by losing it? That made no sense at all. But maybe there was meaning to the words that was hidden, that only the Christians could understand. Maybe it was some kind of secret code, but Publius had lived and died like it was literally true. The sacrifice would have been a public denial of his faith. It would have gained his freedom, preserved his wealth, and spared Claudia from heart-rending grief, but would he have lost himself? Would it have destroyed the man he was even while he still lived?
She pulled her thoughts back to what Hector was saying.
“So the things of this world mean nothing in themselves. Wealth, power, position―they only mean something if we use them to serve God. Let each of us be willing to give up anything except our love for Jesus, no matter what it might cost us.”