by Carol Ashby
Claudia released Cornelia’s hand. “I can only do it because God himself has helped me. Lucius has done terrible things, but hating him would only make me bitter. That bitterness would eat at me like scavenging dogs until my heart was consumed by it. When I left Rome, I hated Lucius with a raging passion for causing Father’s death, and I found no peace as long as I did. I would have gladly murdered him, and what did that make me in my heart? A murderer. It made me as bad a sinner in the eyes of God as Lucius was.”
Cornelia crossed her arms. Wanting to kill Lucius and actually doing it, were those really the same thing?
Claudia gazed out the window, then focused once more on Cornelia. “We were both taught the Roman way of vengeance when someone wrongs us. But Jesus taught a better way, the way of forgiveness. Philip tried to tell me that from the beginning, even before I knew he was a Christian. I fell in love with him because he showed me so much kindness. He forgave me when I spoke my hatred for him. He and Aristarchus led Father to believe in Jesus, you know, and I told him I wanted the Christians who did that to die in the arena, too.”
Claudia’s eyes softened. “I wanted Philip to marry me so much. Even though he loved me as much as I loved him, he wouldn’t because I didn’t follow Jesus as Lord. I couldn’t understand how first Father, then Philip could love Jesus more than they loved me. Then Miriam explained everything to me, like Philip did last Sunday―how much God loves me, how He came to the earth as Jesus to ransom me from my hatred and other sins.
“When I asked God to forgive me, to let Jesus’s sacrifice pay for my own sins, He filled me with His Spirit. Then I was able to begin forgiving Lucius, like God forgave me, and that’s given me peace.”
Her serene eyes were joined by a gentle smile. “I’ve been so blessed by God. He gave me the desire of my heart in Philip, a new life by forgiving my sins, and peace from forgiving others.
“Father wrote Titus a final letter in his cell under the arena. He explained why he’d chosen to believe Jesus had paid for his sins so he could be at peace with God.”
She turned to Miriam. “Titus must still have it.”
Miriam nodded. “He does.” She turned her gaze on Cornelia. “If you’d like, I can ask him to let you read it.”
“I’d like that, if he doesn’t mind.”
A broad smile lit Claudia’s eyes. “He won’t. That letter helped Titus decide to follow Jesus himself. Father also told us that he’d forgiven Lucius and that we should forgive him, too. Jesus often said if we didn’t forgive others their sins against us, our own sins wouldn’t be forgiven, either. When you realize how much you’ve been forgiven, it becomes easier to forgive someone else.”
Cornelia’s brows dipped. “I’ve never even considered forgiving Lucius for everything he’s done. He betrayed me with other women for almost as long as we were married. When he got Publius killed and wanted to hurt you, I came to loathe him. When I learned what he planned for Drusilla, it was oil on the fire of my hatred for him.”
She twisted the filigree bracelet that had been a present from Lucius after Tertius’s birth, then returned her gaze to Claudia’s eyes. “You’re right that it eats at me, and it does nothing to hurt him. He doesn’t care that I’ve hated him. It’s only burned me inside. Maybe I should try to forgive Lucius, like you and Titus have.”
Cornelia rubbed her throat. “What Philip said on Sunday, about God bringing good from bad...I never really considered that before. Lucius’s callous indifference toward Drusilla pained me every time I saw it. When he decided to give her to his friend’s son, even if that killed her, I couldn’t think of him without disgust. But that hateful act has turned out to be a blessing for me and Drusilla. We wouldn’t be here now without it.”
The thought of Hector’s eyes crinkling at something she said triggered her smile. “I would never have met Hector, and I am so thankful I did. I understand why you can say you’re thankful for Lucius trying to marry you to that horrible Sabinus because that was the only reason you met Philip.”
Cornelia bit her lip. “I have a lot to think about. Publius convinced me years ago that the gods of Rome weren’t real. When he told me why he believed only in the god of the Jews, I could see his point. If God requires perfection, no one can stand before Him on their own. Publius said He loved people enough to allow the blood of an unblemished animal to cover sins for a while, but only for a while. Only the blood of a perfect sacrifice, of the perfect man, could not just cover but erase the sins for good.”
She held one arm across her stomach so she could rest her elbow on it as she rubbed her lips. “I’ve believed in Publius’s God for a long time. Maybe I should believe in Jesus, too. Since I first heard Hector teach, it’s like I’m being drawn into a whirlpool I can’t escape, but I’m not sure I even want to.”
Claudia rested her palm on Cornelia’s arm. “Pray about it. Ask God to show you the truth. He’ll clear the path for you to come to Him and know peace.”
Cornelia drew a deep breath and held it. It was as if a crack had appeared at the end of a long, dark tunnel, and a shaft of light was calling her forward. “I’m going to do that. Hector talked about how Jesus said we should ask and seek. I plan to, beginning today.”
Miriam took Cornelia’s hand. “We’ll both be praying for you to hear Jesus call and come.”
Drusilla skipped into the room with Vania right behind. “Cook asked me to tell you lunch is ready.”
Cornelia watched her smiling face as Drusilla waved before vanishing through the door. As the women headed to the dining room, Cornelia took the first step toward freedom―she offered thanks to God for at least some of what Lucius had done. Maybe, after she’d convinced his agents Drusilla was dead, she’d be able to give thanks for more.
Chapter 43: Too Soon
Drusus town house, Rome
After breakfast, Tertius strolled through the atrium. That afternoon, he planned to meet Gaius Corvinus at the baths, but to fill the morning hours, he needed something to read.
When he entered the library, his father and Gaius’s father, Marcus, sat across the desk from each other. Marcus was leaning over a tabula board and rubbing his chin. Father held a blue disk between his thumb and fingers, slowly turning it end over end.
Father glanced at Tertius, raised a hand in greeting, and focused again on his best friend.
He leaned back in his chair. “You may as well concede this round, Marcus. You’re off your game today, and you have to be at your best to beat me.”
Marcus flipped his gaze from the board to Father and back. “Not yet. I’m not Cornelia, but I’m still a match for you.”
Father’s lips tightened, then curved into a sneering smile. “She was good at board games, but she’s no match for me. Not when it really matters.”
He crossed his arms. “The men I hired to fetch Drusilla are almost there. Paullus arranged for them to leave only a day after I realized she and Cornelia might be with Titus. The lanista at the Ludus Silani was willing to risk his men in a sea crossing between Brundisium and Dyrrhachium. That took less than two days. He said they could cover about seventy milia passuum each day if they changed horses once. At that rate, they’ll take Drusilla from Cornelia within the week.”
Tertius’s heart dropped into his stomach. But his back was toward Father, so he fought to erase the shock and worry from his face before Marcus or Father saw. He lifted a scroll from the shelf and used it to wave farewell as he returned to the atrium.
He kept walking until he reached the peristyle garden. There, he leaned against one of the columns, breathing heavily. Within the week―that was several days less than the shortest time he’d told Mother it might take for the hunters to arrive. If she and Drusilla were with Uncle Titus, might the gladiators get there before she could find a better place to hide? And if they did, what could he possibly do to protect his little sister after they dragged her back to Rome?
Chapter 44: Unpleasant Surprise
&n
bsp; Hector normally wasn’t invited to eat at Titus’s house, but this winter had been the exception. As he dismounted and handed his reins to the stable boy, he suppressed a grin. Miriam’s cooking was the best in Perinthus, and he owed his frequent opportunities to eat it to Cornelia. He’d be willing to eat stale bread and moldy cheese to dine with her, but he wouldn’t complain about the delectable feast that awaited him inside.
He was the last to arrive. When he entered the courtyard, Titus approached and slapped his arm. “Glad you could make it, Hector.” His smile broadened into a grin. “Two people are going to find this a much better dinner because you’re here.”
Hector followed Titus into the dining room. It was set exactly as Claudia arranged her tables, and he settled into place between Philip and Malleolus. Directly across from him sat the reason he came, and her delighted smile when he looked at her pumped up his heart rate.
After asking God’s blessing, Titus sampled the purple carrots of the first course. “You’re in for a treat, Cornelia. This white wine sauce was one of Miriam’s mother’s special recipes.”
Miriam’s eyes softened. “I think of her every time I make it. I’ve started teaching Vania some of what she taught me when I was her age.”
She flipped her gaze from Titus to Cornelia. “Tomorrow, Titus and Philip are going to visit the western estates that are a day and a half from here. I think I’ll take my children and go with Titus. They haven’t been there for a while. We’ll all be back in a week. Would you and Drusilla like to come, too? We’re taking our raeda, but it won’t hold all of us. We could borrow Philip’s raeda or you could drive our cisium if you want.”
Miriam fixed teasing eyes on Hector. “Do you think she’s ready for that, Hector?”
He cleared his throat. “Cornelia handles mules well enough to be safe on that road.”
Cornelia’s sparkling eyes captured his. “You give me too much credit, Hector. I still need many more lessons before I’ll consider myself skillful enough to be truly safe.”
He tightened his lips to stop the grin. Many more lessons. And she’d called him Hector. He liked the sound of both.
Cornelia pulled her eyes from him and directed them toward Miriam. “Thank you for the invitation. We’ll miss you, but I think we’ll stay in Perinthus.” Her gaze returned to him. “For the moment, everything I need to be content is right here.”
Hector caught her full meaning, and his ears warmed. He hoped no one noticed, but with the way Nestor teased him, that hope was probably futile. One quick glance at Claudia confirmed his fear. Her eyes lit up and her lips curved into a broad smile. The heat spread to his neck.
Claudia leaned forward. “I’ll still be here in Perinthus, so you won’t have to get lonely. You and Drusilla can come up to my house if you don’t have anyone better to spend your time with.”
Even he couldn’t miss the knowing smiles exchanged between Claudia, Miriam, and Cornelia. He felt the heat again.
Cornelia watched Hector’s ears turn pink. There was something incredibly appealing about a virile man like the captain being embarrassed. It was a sure sign that he felt the attraction she did.
Visiting the western estate would be enjoyable, but now was not the best time. She didn’t want to be away from Hector for a week. In only a little over three months, he would sail. She couldn’t afford to waste a week away from him. It was time to stoke his fire, not dampen it by being away. There would be plenty of time for visiting estates after he was her husband.
Drusilla’s safety was no concern even if they stayed. Nestor and the servants would be there, and Titus would be back a day before the first possible time the agents might show up. It was likely they wouldn’t even show up for a few days after that. By then, Nestor would have the gravestone set up in the garden, and she would have flowers and bushes in place to make it look permanent.
She glanced at Drusilla giggling with Vania and the boys at the other table. She’d explain to her daughter that Lucius’s agents were coming when she set up the gravestone. There was no reason to worry Drusilla before she had to.
Her eyes returned to Hector. When Drusilla wasn’t around to hear, she’d tell him what she had planned. Titus was Drusilla’s first line of defense, but Hector should know what was going on so he could be the second.
Dinner was over. The children had gone to bed, and Cornelia was walking along the balcony toward her bedchamber. She could hear the men’s laughter coming from the bath below. She’d wondered how extensive Philip’s scars were from the moment she met him. Claudia always caressed his scarred cheek whenever it was only family present. He was such a fine man that overlooking how ugly he was made perfect sense, but Claudia actually seemed to enjoy touching his scars. How many more were on his chest? Did she enjoy them as much in the privacy of their bedchamber?
The men would be heading back to the dining room at any moment, and they would be bare-chested. She stepped silently toward the edge of the balcony where she would still be in the shadows but could see them as they crossed the courtyard below.
Philip came out first. Scars covered much of his right shoulder, but they weren’t as ugly as she expected. She could have stepped away from the edge then, but she was hoping to see Hector as well. She’d never been one of those silly girls who giggled and gasped over the gladiators, but her heart fluttered at the thought of gazing on his broad chest and large biceps. She’d hoped to see his bare chest every time he escorted her and Drusilla to the baths in the ports where they stayed overnight. How disappointing when he’d actually gone extra distance and out of the way to take them only where the men and women bathed in separate rooms. Finally, she would see what she’d been wishing for.
Her heartbeat accelerated as he stepped into view.
Then her stomach knotted.
She couldn’t tear her eyes from him. His muscular build was exactly what she expected, but her eyes were riveted on the crisscrossed pattern of many deep scars from his waist to his shoulders. She’d seen that before…on the naked backs of field slaves at her friends’ estates where the lash was freely used.
She froze, transfixed by the implication of what stood before her eyes. It only became worse when he turned back to say something to Titus. She could imagine that the scars came from some horrible accident that didn’t require him being a slave, but the brand on his chest removed all doubt.
She stepped back into the deepest shadows by the wall so he couldn’t see her. The three men continued across the courtyard and entered the dining room before she risked moving.
Her mind churned. She, Cornelia Scipia, daughter of one of the greatest patrician families of Rome, granddaughter of a senator, great-granddaughter of a Roman consul, was in love with a slave. Well, actually with a freedman, but still. And he’d hidden that fact from her. Well, maybe not exactly hidden it, but he’d certainly never told her.
Why had she ever indulged that girlish desire to look at the handsome man who’d won her heart? Well, more like the handsome man she’d given her heart. He’d never tried to make her fall in love with him, so it wasn’t a prize he’d sought to win. It had simply happened because he was the finest man she’d ever known.
But even if she hadn’t decided to wait on the balcony to see him, those scars and that brand would still be there. Seeing them this way had only given her a chance to learn his secret without him seeing her shock at the discovery. That would have been even more horrible.
She buried her face in her hands as she shook her head. When they first met in Portus, she’d made him furious by saying most slaves were thieves and liars. Now it made sense that he, once a slave himself, was so offended by what amounted to a personal accusation. He was honest to the bone, and honesty in others was so important to him. She couldn’t have picked a worse thing to say to him.
He’d be coming the next day to play Mercenaries with Drusilla. How was she going to face him without him sensing something was wrong? He mustn’t suspect he
r disappointment with his past was also a disappointment with him as a man. Even though he’d been a slave and her head told her his lowly birth meant he wasn’t worthy of her, her heart still told her he was superior to every noble Roman she had ever known. She wanted him to be her husband.
Anthusa had seldom seen Mistress Cornelia so quiet as she let the mistress’s hair down and began brushing. Silence was not the only source of her concern. There was a moistness at the corners of the mistress’s eyes that she hadn’t seen since they said farewell to the villa the morning they left for the ship. Mistress had never been one to cry easily, but she was fighting tears now.
Something was terribly wrong. The mistress had been in excellent spirits right after dinner. Right now, she should be repeating what the captain had said and talking about what he planned to do with her and Drusilla tomorrow. What had happened?
Anthusa longed to ask, but it was not her place. Mistress Cornelia confided in her like a dear friend, but despite that, she was only a slave. No matter that she loved the mistress as much as a sister, and her heart ached whenever her mistress’s did. She was still only a slave.
Chapter 45: Barriers
Cornelia’s night was disrupted by dreams of Hector, sometimes free of the lash marks, sometimes covered with them. Just before dawn, she decided a private conversation with Claudia was essential. Normally, she would have talked with Anthusa about any important matter of the heart, but how could she discuss Hector’s slave past with someone who was a slave herself? Maybe Miriam would be a good person to talk with, but Titus had actually freed her so he could marry her, so she wasn’t unbiased. She would never understand why it was even an issue.