The Master's Wall

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The Master's Wall Page 13

by Sandi Rog


  The adults took their places in the peristyle, including the parents of Vibia’s betrothed. They were such quiet people that she hardly noticed them.

  Alethea had to admit she was relieved to be engaged to the younger Demetrius, not that it mattered anyway. Tonight she would tell him her true feelings, and she needed to remember to fully express her gratitude. She didn’t want to risk getting slapped, nor did she want to waste any time. Who knew when Grandmother might deem her a woman? She was only eleven now. In one more year she would be twelve, and by then David would be fifteen. Certainly, she could try and marry him by that time, and then nobody could force her into a marriage with Demetri.

  With all this worry, she hardly noticed the professional musicians and orators appear before the guests. They swirled about in brightly colored costumes and gathered in the center of the room. One gentleman played the lyre with grace and perfection, while another recited lines of poetry to the accompaniment of the music.

  When the music stopped and another orator took the stage, she slumped onto a small stool. She only half listened, and nearly fell asleep during the second recital of Marcus Tullius Cicero’s works.

  When the orators finished, the families mingled. She kept to herself, like a proper young lady, although her true motivation was to avoid Vibia, Demetri, and anyone else for that matter. She wished she could huddle behind Grandmother, but she was too close to the enemy.

  Alethea gazed into the outdoor courtyard and spotted David at the far end. She rose to her feet, crept in that direction, and quietly slipped through the doors.

  She hurried on tiptoes to the other side of the garden and slipped behind some greenery.

  “Like this,” David said as he tossed a ball to a small boy who couldn’t have been more than two years.

  Alethea sank to a stone bench behind some perfectly trimmed bushes. Until now, no one had seen her. Torches and candles lit up the dark garden, and despite being outside, the air didn’t smell as fresh and clean as in the country. She wanted to be near David, but she also didn’t want to risk being reprimanded for socializing with the slaves. It was one thing to play with them in the field back home at the villa and to talk to David secretly in the woods, but during a formal gathering and as a guest, it would be considered improper. She took comfort in just hearing David’s voice as he played with the little boy.

  “Catch the ball, like this.”

  “Mamma, Mamma.”

  Alethea turned and peered through the bushes.

  The little boy ran to a woman. A torch lit up her beautiful face.

  Alethea couldn’t take her eyes off the slender figure swaying under her fitted stola. The woman’s eyes had thick liner on them, much thicker than Grandmother or Mother would wear, and colorful beads of some kind were woven through her black hair. She wore a gold Egyptian bracelet whose bands wove in and around each other from her wrist to her elbow. Titus had shown her something like it before. The woman held the boy in her arms and spoke to him in Greek—Mpampas’s language.

  The woman looked at David. “I see you meet Alexander, my son.” The woman spoke in broken Latin with a thick accent.

  Apparently, David and this woman had met earlier this evening. She was not old, perhaps near the same age as Demetri, or maybe a little younger. The woman’s olive skin looked smooth under the torch’s light as she turned to David.

  “I need ask. How find I this community of Christians? If harm come to me, will they care for my Alexander?” The woman nodded toward the little boy in her arms.

  Alethea glanced back at the peristyle where music and laughter carried through its doors. Thankfully, no one else had yet come outside. Who knew how Demetri’s family felt toward Christians? She wondered if she ought to leave, but if she did, David and the woman would find out she was there and heard their conversation. She didn’t want them to think she was spying, so she kept still.

  The little boy who had been playing with David squirmed out of his mother’s arms and moved closer. She scooted toward the far edge of the bench and continued to watch David and the woman through the bushes.

  “Make the sign of a fish, like this.” David knelt down.

  She spread the branches apart and watched David draw in the sand.

  “It’s very simple; you don’t have to be an artist. It’s like a password or a secret symbol that only Christians will understand.”

  The woman knelt down near David to examine his drawing. Jealousy swept through Alethea. The woman had to be older than David, but she hung on to his every word.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Alethea spotted movement.

  The little boy picked up his ball and carried it over to her. “Ball,” he said in Latin, holding it up for her to see.

  She forced a smile, hoping David and the woman hadn’t spotted her. She let the branches fall back into place and turned her attention to the boy. A nearby torch lit up his enchanting face. Thick lashes blinked at her over the biggest blue-green eyes she’d ever seen. Raven black hair with small wisps curled near his neck, and his olive-colored skin looked smooth to the touch. The boy flashed a smile and didn’t seem to be the least bit frightened or shy.

  “Pretty lady,” the boy said, smiling. “Pretty lady! Pretty lady!” the boy shouted, running back to his mother.

  Alethea cringed and crouched down on her bench. There was no way she could hide now.

  David appeared from around the shrubbery and so did the boy’s mother. The boy stepped forward and tossed her the ball.

  Alethea watched as the ball rolled to her feet.

  The little boy hurried to pick it up and held it out to her.

  Reluctantly, she took it from him.

  “Alethea, what are you doing here?” David whispered. “Why aren’t you inside enjoying the party?”

  She looked up at David. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t appear angry either, just concerned. She wanted to tell him everything, about the surprise and what a disappointment it had been, and then about this man Demetri whom she was doomed to marry. It would all just have to wait.

  “Throw it.” Little Alexander pointed his dimpled finger at the ball she held in her hands.

  She knelt down. “Here you go.” She rolled it past him, and his eyes lit up with joy.

  “Your son is beautiful,” Alethea said to the woman.

  The woman glanced at David with worried eyes.

  Tension rose in the air, but Alethea couldn’t imagine why. Unless the woman was afraid of being caught speaking with one of the guests? Or perhaps the woman was afraid of what Alethea might have overheard? Despite the fact that she seemed to make the woman uncomfortable, her curiosity about the boy spurred her on.

  “Where are you from?” Alethea stood.

  The woman’s eyes widened, and she almost seemed afraid to speak.

  Alethea tried to encourage her with a smile.

  “I’m Egyptian. My home was Alexandria.”

  “Is that why you named your son Alexander?” The name appealed to Alethea, a strong and sturdy name. “The name is Greek, it means ‘helper and defender of mankind.’ My father was Greek.”

  The woman smiled and nodded. She seemed to be pleased by Alethea’s words.

  “I thought I told you to remain in the slaves’ chamber and stay away from the guests.”

  Alethea nearly jumped out of her stola.

  Demetri came and stood before the woman, frowning.

  Alethea had no idea anyone was near. Thank the gods they hadn’t been talking about David’s religion.

  The woman looked down at her bare feet.

  “It was my fault,” Alethea said. “She didn’t know I was here.” The last thing she wished was that anyone should be punished because of her.

  “Go back to your chamber, and take the child with you.”

  David scooped the boy up on his shoulder, carrying him as though he were a barrel of wine. The woman walked ahead of David and ducked inside the slave doors. David followed, leaving Alethea alone w
ith Demetri in the garden.

  Her anger flared. How dare he frighten the enchanting woman away when Alethea still had so many questions. She would use her anger to fuel her courage to break off their engagement.

  “What did she say to you?” Demetri asked, eyes narrowed.

  Alethea stepped back from his harsh gaze. She could see no harm with what the woman had said, so she answered him honestly.

  “She said she was from Egypt.”

  “Did she say anything else?”

  “That her home was in Alexandria.”

  “What else?” He leaned over her as if interrogating her for being disobedient. Grandmother had spoken to her that way so often, she’d recognize it anywhere. How dare he do the same to her.

  Alethea straightened to her full height, even though she still had to arch her neck to meet his gaze. “Nothing else,” she said, laying emphasis on each word. The woman was just a slave. Why would he be so concerned about what she said?

  “Good.”

  “She was just answering my questions,” Alethea said, noticing a flower in his hand. “She has a beautiful child, he—”

  “Everyone is looking for you.” Demetri shifted his stance. “I was going to give you my gifts before the family and guests, but I couldn’t find you. Vibia has already received hers. I thought you would be anxious to receive yours.” Demetri stood over her, his green eyes sparkling. “What were you doing out here all by yourself?”

  “I needed . . . .” She was about to say she needed to be alone. Really, she needed to be with David, but what business was it of his? She wasn’t a slave from whom he needed to demand answers. She didn’t belong to him yet, and as far as she could help it, she never would. She avoided his gaze. Say it. Now was her chance.

  “So, what do you think?”

  She looked at him questioningly.

  “Of this.” He tapped her nose with the flower.

  He must be referring to their engagement. Finally, she held the ring out to him. “I might as well tell you now. I’m not going to marry you.”

  He straightened and appeared shocked, then a look of amusement washed over his face. “Oh really? And who will you marry then?”

  Her eyes darted around the courtyard, anything to avoid his green gaze. Her preparation for how she would break the news didn’t extend to his response. Flustered, her neck and cheeks went hot.

  “David.” Trying to appear confident, she needed to convince him that she’d already made plans. She continued to hold the ring out to him, but he wouldn’t take it.

  He smiled, seeming to enjoy the conversation. “So, I have competition? I’ll have to find out who this David is.”

  Her stomach tied itself into knots. She’d just made a grave mistake. But nobody knew David as “David” except her. To everyone else he was “Damonus.” She would have to be very careful not to use his real name around others.

  “A Hebrew?” He rubbed his chin, still holding the flower.

  She tossed a braid over her shoulder, trying to appear calm.

  “Well, he is . . . I mean . . . .” She didn’t have to give him more information. It would only make things worse. “It doesn’t matter ‘who,’ it’s just not going to be you, that’s all.” She motioned the ring toward him, hoping he would take it.

  He frowned. It was as though her words hurt him. How could he be hurt? He didn’t even know her, and for that matter, she was nothing but a child. Still, she held out the ring and kept her chin up. She didn’t want him to think that she could be persuaded to change her mind.

  He leaned over her and tapped the flower on her nose again. “We shall see about that.” Power and determination radiated from his being.

  Fear left her feeling cold. She shivered.

  Then he grinned, holding the flower before her as he broke off some of its thorns. He took her hand in his and placed the flower in her palm, closing her fingers around its stem and the ring.

  “This is a rose. My father grows them in his garden. Be careful not to prick yourself.”

  It was a handsome flower. It still had thorns protruding from its stem near the attractive bud and near its base; much like Demetri, handsome but full of thorns.

  At that moment, Grandmother appeared.

  “Oh, there you are, my dear. As usual, we have been looking everywhere for you.” She gritted her teeth through her smile. She glanced at Demetri and then back at Alethea. “Have you already given Demetri his gift?”

  Alethea cringed. She had expected to feel some sort of joy when she gave away her silk square. Now she felt nothing but sorrow that what she had worked so hard on would go to this barbarian. She unfolded the embroidery from her belt and handed it over to Demetri. She didn’t look at his eyes but instead focused on the cloth. She tried to console herself. She would make another one, only next time it would be a beautiful mantle.

  Grandmother turned and called for Vibia as she and the rest of the guests, their chatter and laughter, spilled into the courtyard.

  Demetri took the silk square. “Thank you.” He held it under his nose, taking in its scent. “Jasmine.” He took her hand in his and bowed down near her. “The Egyptian rose.” He spoke just loud enough for her to hear. “When you, like the rose, are in full bloom, I will break your thorns and make you mine.”

  She went limp and cold, and the world spun. She wanted to scream with fright. She yanked away and scurried over to Grandmother.

  He came up to them with his hands behind his back.

  “You have a wild filly on your hands. Let us hope she grows out of it.” With that, he turned to watch the other guests.

  Alethea’s anger flared. The last thing she needed was for Grandmother to think she was out of control. Then she realized she hadn’t shown any form of gratitude toward the man.

  “I assure you, she will grow out of it.” Grandmother gave a painful squeeze on Alethea’s arm.

  “She simply needs to be broken in and tamed.” He looked down at Alethea and smiled. “The spirited ones are most valued.”

  Her stomach turned. How dare he compare her to a horse.

  He gazed at the singers who began to perform. “By the way, does your family happen to know a Hebrew by the name of David?”

  Alethea’s heart stopped cold.

  “Of course not. We don’t associate with Jews.”

  He glanced down at her and her cheeks burned. He looked back at her grandmother and smiled. “I need to gather the gifts for my future bride.”

  “Yes, of course.” Grandmother nodded.

  After Demetri left, Grandmother glared down at her. “What have you been saying to that boy? I was hoping you would at least know how to behave yourself at this feast. How many times have I told you—”

  “Come, Renata.” Aunt Fabia took Grandmother’s arm and pulled her to her side. “Vibia is about to present her gift to Arnos.” They watched as Vibia gave her silk square to her betrothed.

  Alethea ground her teeth to keep from exploding. How could she possibly “behave” herself at a betrothal party that was sprung on her only a few hours ago? She wanted to stomp her feet, to shout and scream, to cry in a heap on the ground. She straightened with pride that she hadn’t done any of that.

  After Vibia had given her embroidery to Arnos, Grandmother led Alethea to stand before the guests. All eyes were on her, while the slaves sang and played their instruments behind her. As long as she wasn’t expected to speak, she could stifle the explosions of sobs that threatened. She felt sick inside and wished she could faint, anything to escape. Of course, there was no such luck.

  “The moon and stars, and you,” Demetri said, coming to stand near and motioning toward the guests, “are all witnesses to the gifts I shall bestow on my betrothed.” He then presented a bejeweled doll from behind his back.

  Alethea reluctantly accepted it. Of course, she didn’t like it. She already had a doll. The one Mpampas had made with his own hands.

  He then pulled a necklace from his belt and held it
up for the guests to see. Everyone gasped, and Grandmother’s face lit up with a big smile. He placed it around Alethea’s stiff neck. A beautiful emerald jewel shone from its pendant.

  As the guests admired the stone, Demetri stepped back. It was a pretty necklace, and it made her feel important. The color of the large emerald reminded her of his green eyes. She let it fall against her neck and refused to look at it anymore.

  “What a beautiful stone,” Aunt Fabia said.

  “Of course.” Grandfather stood with his hands behind his back and rocked on his feet. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from the family Arnensis.”

  Demetri turned his back and took something from a slave, then faced her, holding a furry bundle in his hands.

  A kitten.

  A tiny, precious, orange and white kitten mewed in his palms.

  She wanted to snatch the ball of fur from his hands, but stood very still and forced back her smile. Oh, how she wanted that kitten. Perhaps Demetri wasn’t such a horrible person after all?

  He held the animal out to her. With trembling hands, she took it and held it against her chest. It brushed against the necklace he’d just given her. The poor kitten. It wasn’t his fault he came from Demetri.

  But what about David? David could never give her such lovely gifts, yet what he did give was friendship. She could never have that with Demetri. She wanted the kitten, and the necklace was beautiful, but she tried to make herself not want them, not if they were from Demetri. Still she snuggled the kitten against her cheek, while everyone sighed and smiled.

  It was then she realized Demetri had disappeared, but just when she was ready to let out a sigh of relief, he came from around the house with a pony in tow.

  A pony? What would she do with a pony? Pull miniature chariots? Perhaps she could use it to cart her belongings when she’d escape her family? The wild thought almost made her laugh, but by his smug grin, she realized her snicker was misunderstood as he came near with the beautiful creature.

 

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