by Carol Ashby
Claudia had married outside the circle of Roman nobility, but at least she’d married a man whose family wealth rivaled even that of the Claudius Drusus family. Claudia did know the expectations for patrician women like them, and she would understand enough to maybe give her good advice.
She rose earlier than normal and dressed without waking Anthusa. When she tiptoed onto the balcony, the first thing she looked at was Titus’s bedchamber door. Closed, as she expected. They were leaving that day as soon as Philip came. Of course he wanted this time alone with Miriam before they spent a night on the road with all the children.
But maybe Miriam had crept out to the kitchen to surprise him with something special. Even though she usually confined her own culinary work to the evening meal when Titus could relax and enjoy it, there were times when she talked to what amounted to her underchef before breakfast. Cornelia stood on the balcony and listened for Miriam’s voice before descending the stairs to search for Nestor. She found him in the small room on the first floor that was the estate office.
“Mistress Cornelia.” He rose from the desk where he had wax tablets and papyrus sheets awaiting his attention. “Do you need something?”
“Yes. I need someone to walk with me to Claudia’s house. I need to see her as soon as possible.”
“I’ll do that myself.” He motioned her out the door ahead of him, then turned to lock it. After hanging the key chain around his neck and tucking the key inside his tunic, he led her out through the kitchen and around through the garden to the street.
As they walked the quarter mile to Philip’s house, Nestor cast many sideways glances at her. He wasn’t a gossip, but Cornelia would prefer none of the household know of her distress. She relaxed her face, erasing the crease between her eyes and flipping her frown into a formal smile.
Philip’s gatekeeper swung the gate open as soon as he saw them, and Claudia sent word for Cornelia to come directly to her room as soon as the servant announced her arrival.
Claudia took her hand and led her over to sit on the couch by the window.
“What’s wrong?”
“I learned something last night.” Cornelia had planned to have a calm discussion about Hector’s past and their possible future, but her eyes began to burn. She covered her mouth as the first tears escaped and trickled down her cheeks.
Claudia took her other hand in both of her own and leaned closer. “Is something wrong with Drusilla?”
Cornelia took a deep breath and swept the tears from her cheeks as she shook her head. “She’s well. I’m not.”
“Is it something I can help with? What did you learn that has you so upset?”
“Hector...” She paused to wipe away the next set of tears that dribbled down her cheeks.
“What about Hector?”
Cornelia looked straight into Claudia’s compassionate eyes. “I’m in love with him.”
Claudia interrupted. “That’s wonderful. He’s one of the finest men I know.”
“I know he’s a wonderful man. That’s not the problem.” Cornelia wiped away more tears. “Last night, I saw his back. I saw his scars from a flogging...and the brand on his chest. I never suspected he’d been a slave.”
Claudia took a deep breath. “And that matters to you?”
Cornelia swept the remaining tears from her cheek, and her chest jumped as she fought against new ones. “Of course it matters to me! The Cornelii Scipiones have helped rule Rome for 500 years. If Father hadn’t died before he became a member of the Senate, Roman law wouldn’t even let me marry him. He’s so far beneath me in social rank I should never even consider him, but he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. He’s everything Lucius never was, and Drusilla already loves him like a father.” She wiped at tears again. “What should I do?”
“Do you think he’s about to ask you to marry him?”
“I don’t know! I’ve been trying to get him to. I think he knows I admire him a great deal. I’ve given him enough signals that he should know. I don’t see how he could fail to see that I want him to marry me. He always seems so glad to see me when he comes to do something with Drusilla. Sometimes it seems he’s come more for me than for her. You’ve seen how he looks at me. A man doesn’t look that way if he doesn’t care.”
Cornelia closed her eyes and shook her head. “He’s free now, but he was a slave. I’d be disgracing my family if I marry such a man. But I’ve never met anyone more wonderful, and nothing could ever be better than being his wife.”
Claudia squeezed Cornelia’s hand and offered an encouraging smile. “I had almost this same talk with Titus eight years ago when he realized he was in love with Miriam. I’m going to tell you now what I told him then. When God brings a truly good man into your life who loves you deeply, you’d be a fool not to marry him, no matter what his family history might be or what Roman law requires.
“Titus almost didn’t marry Miriam because he thought a Claudius Drusus shouldn’t marry a slave, but he was smart enough to listen to me and change his mind. Look at how happy he and Miriam are. Philip and I are the only people I know who might be happier together. God brought each of us together with the one who would complete us. I think Hector might be that man for you.”
New tears had stopped forming, and Cornelia wiped the last one from the corner of her eye. “Do you think him being a slave is why he hasn’t let me know he might want to marry me?” She looked down at the floor before turning her eyes back on Claudia. “The first day I met him, I told him most slaves were thieves and liars, and he got angry at me. Furious, actually. Maybe he thinks I wouldn’t want a man who’d been a slave as my husband...or maybe he just doesn’t want a woman like me.” She looked at the floor again.
Claudia pushed a strand of hair behind Cornelia’s ear. “I don’t know what he thinks. Men are confusing creatures, and I’m not sure they know why they do what they do themselves. When he left on this last voyage, his heart was still horribly broken by Damara’s death. Since his return, I can see how much he loves your daughter. She’s filled a large part of the hole in his heart that Charissa’s death made. Anyone can see he enjoys your company a great deal. I think he cares for you as much more than a friend. How much, I don’t know. He’s always been a quiet man who keeps his own counsel. I don’t know if his love for Damara has left room in his heart for another woman yet.”
Cornelia took a deep breath and let it out before turning her eyes back on Claudia. “So, you think I should forget about him being a slave and marry him if he decides to ask me.”
Claudia smiled. “Yes, I do. Maybe you need to find some way to let him know you know and that it doesn’t matter to you.” She paused. “Or maybe you should let him know you want him somehow and just wait for him to tell you. I don’t know which way is the best.” She squeezed Cornelia’s hand. “I do know that you should pray about what’s the right way to proceed. God knows what’s best for you both.”
Cornelia nodded. She would pray, but she would also think about what to do to get Hector to realize they belonged together.
She wiped her cheeks to remove the last trace of any tears as she stood up. “Thank you for listening.” Claudia stood, too, and Cornelia embraced her. “I needed to talk with someone about this so badly, and I knew you’d understand. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“What are sisters for?”
Claudia walked Cornelia downstairs and summoned one of the servants from the stable to walk her back home. As she watched Cornelia head down the hill, she once more prayed that two of the people she cared about most would find God’s way to happiness.
Chapter 46: Maybe a Chance
Drusilla had just finished setting up the Mercenaries board when her mother entered the sitting room. She’d come through the kitchen from the stable yard, and she was breathing as if she’d been running. Now she was walking back and forth in the room.
Captain’s frame filled the door, blocking the sun that
had been streaming in from the courtyard. Mother stopped pacing and turned to face him. She was smiling, but something wasn’t right. Something around her eyes as she looked at him.
Drusilla might only be ten, but she knew there were times for private conversations between adults. Mother needed to talk with Captain. Right now and alone.
“I’ll be right back, Captain. I need to tell Vania something before she leaves.”
Cornelia caught her daughter’s wink as she passed. She might have laughed at her not-so-subtle manipulation if there weren’t something so important to get clear between them.
She wasn’t quite sure how to start the conversation, but the start didn’t matter as much as the ending. She knew what she wanted that to be.
She cleared her throat. “Hector, I need to tell you something.”
The warmth of his eyes and smile wrapped around her like a blanket. She shivered anyway. What if her next words stripped away that warmth and left her forever in the cold?
She wasn’t sure whether it was better to look into his eyes or away from them as she began. She chose to look into them. “I saw you last night.”
He tilted his head. His brow furrowed, but his smile remained unchanged. She swallowed and continued.
“When you all came out of the bath.” The furrows deepened. “I saw your scars.” A flash of understanding smoothed his forehead. “I know you were a slave.”
“And that bothers you.” He said it as a statement, not a question. She saw the cooling in his eyes as his smile faded. She stood immobile as the shiver coursed inside her.
“No…I just wanted you to know that I know.” She mentally kicked herself. Telling him she knew may have been exactly what she shouldn’t have done.
“That was twenty years ago―ancient history. If anything, it made me a better man now than I would have been.” He stepped closer and looked deeper into her eyes. “It does bother you.”
“No. I just wondered why you hadn’t mentioned you were a freedman before.” Her stomach flip-flopped. She was only digging herself into a deeper hole.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t see any reason why you’d care. I don’t see why it would matter to anyone now.”
His serious gaze was riveted on her eyes, but the trace of a smile tugged at his lips. “Besides, there’s no shame in being a slave or having been one. It’s only an accident of birth or because many men don’t care if others suffer so they can have an easy life. Sometimes God uses it for his own purposes. Joseph was sold into slavery in Egypt, but by God’s will, he became second in command to Pharaoh himself. God used him to save Egypt and many others, including his own family, from a great famine.”
“You’re absolutely right that it doesn’t matter...at least not to me.” She couldn’t keep her eyes from blinking too fast.
His eyes softened. “You look upset.”
“I don’t want this to come between us.”
The warmth returned to his eyes. “It won’t if it doesn’t bother you.”
She almost told him right then that she loved him and wanted him to love her, too. She began to open her mouth, then stopped. That was too risky. What if he told her that wasn’t possible? She bit her lip as she glanced away from him.
His gentle smile broadened to wrap around her heart again. “Do you want me to tell you about it?”
She released the breath she had been half-holding when he made that gracious offer. “I want to know everything you want to tell me.”
Her eyes locked on his as he began. “I was born on an estate outside Thessalonica. I was there until I was fourteen. My first master fed us enough and only used the lash on the men who didn’t work hard enough to suit him. I always worked hard, so life was good there.”
Her eyes widened. She’d never considered how someone might think life good just because he had enough to eat and didn’t get whipped. No wonder the slaves had all been so upset when her father-in-law was killed and then so happy when Lucius left Malleolus in charge and nothing changed.
“Then something happened that made him have to sell about a quarter of his slaves. I was big and strong for my age, so he sold me to work on the wharves in Thessalonica. That’s when I got the brand. My new owner branded all his men when he first bought them so they’d be less likely to run away.”
Through his tunic, he rubbed the brand. “The overseer he put in charge of us liked to use the whip when he was unhappy about anything. I worked hard and showed him proper respect, so I never got more than an occasional tip of the whip just to keep me focused. It wasn’t so bad. I was fifteen when my life really changed.”
His eyes were so peaceful that Cornelia relaxed. The change must have been a good one.
“I owe what I am today to Philip’s father. Aristarchus was at the rail of one of his ships, watching what was happening on the pier as the last of his cargo was being loaded. I was carrying small crates onto the ship tied across from his. There was a small boy running up the pier. He tripped and fell into the captain of the ship I was loading. The captain started kicking and hitting him, and he just curled up in a ball instead of trying to get away.
“I’m not sure why, because I knew it was a foolish thing to do, but I put my crate down and scooped up the boy. I set him on his feet and told him to run. Then I blocked the way so the captain couldn’t reach him.”
Her hand flew to her mouth as she inhaled sharply. She knew what happened on her friends’ estates when a slave challenged the overseer.
“The captain hit me hard as he could on the side of my head, knocked me down, almost knocked me out. Kicked me twice in the gut. Then he just turned and walked up the gangplank, like he was through with me. I thought it was over, but I should have known better. I picked up the crate and carried it onto his ship. I had to do that even if I’d known what was coming.”
She swallowed hard as her mind raced to imagine what happened next.
“The next part might be hard for you to hear, but it’s why I have the scars. Should I go on?”
She nodded. No matter what it was, she wanted to hear it. She braced herself to keep tears from forming.
“The captain and two of his crew stopped me. They grabbed my arms and tied me to the rigging. The captain began to flog me. The first few strokes came fast, but then he started taking his time between lashes so the next one would be a surprise. It’s harder to brace for the pain when you don’t expect it.”
A shiver raced up her spine. She’d almost ordered the flogging of a runaway, but she’d sold him instead.
“Aristarchus saw it all. He sent his first mate running to the overseer to offer to buy me for 200 denarii more than I was worth if he could take me immediately. He boarded the ship I was on and started talking to the captain to distract him.
“His first mate came back to tell him the purchase was made and the bill of sale was being drawn up. The captain was about to lash me again when Aristarchus grabbed his arm. I heard him order the captain to stop damaging his property and cut me down.”
She clamped her jaw to stop the quiver. It didn’t work.
“I remember crumpling to the deck and seeing my blood there. My back felt like it was ripped wide open. Everything started swirling. Then Aristarchus stooped down and slipped his hands under my arms. As he lifted me to my feet, I looked into his eyes. No master had ever looked at me like that before. Like he cared. Like I mattered.
“He half-carried me down the gangplank, across the pier, and into one of the rooms in his cabin. He didn’t care that he was getting my blood all over his own clothes. Then he washed the blood from my back, spread something on that helped the pain, and bandaged me himself.”
His face blurred as Cornelia took a sharp breath. He was telling her the most appalling thing she’d ever heard, but he was smiling as he told her what Philip’s father had done.
The tears started trickling down her cheeks. He reached over and wiped them away with his fingertips. She had
longed to have him touch her face, and his fingertips brushing her cheeks made her shiver, but this wasn’t how she’d imagined he would caress her for the first time.
Touching Cornelia’s face was something Hector had wanted to do for a long time, but she’d never given him an excuse before. He gazed down at her blue eyes. They’d lost that calm self-possession he was accustomed to seeing. They were swimming in tears. He hadn’t expected her to be so moved by what he’d suffered.
“As he spread the ointment, he told me he’d just bought me. I would serve on his ship as a seaman as soon as I was healed enough. If I worked hard, I could earn my freedom in five years. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was too good to be true. I asked him why he was helping me. He told me he’d seen me rescue the boy, and rescuing me was what his own Master wanted him to do.”
More tears escaped to follow the damp tracks made by Cornelia’s first teardrops. He paused again to wipe them away. He’d been afraid she might not welcome the touch of his fingers on her face. As he swept the glistening drops from her cheeks, her trembling smile assured him she did.
“I was used to cruelty from masters, never kindness like that. Aristarchus took care of me himself the first few days. Being treated like a person by the master instead of just a piece of property...I never thought that was possible.
“All the men on his ship were Christians, and Aristarchus led their worship every Sunday. I listened to him teaching how Jesus, the Son of God himself, cared enough about people like me to give up his own life to save us. I saw Aristarchus try to live what Jesus taught. I decided to follow Jesus myself on that voyage.”
Teardrops were still trickling as she gazed up into his eyes, so he placed his palms on her cheeks and swept away the tears with his thumbs. Making her cry was the last thing he wanted, but seeing the true feelings of her heart…that was almost worth it. A sign that she truly cared for him.