The Master's Wall

by Sandi Rog

  Demetri came to his feet, and David tossed him his sword.

  He caught it and went in for the attack.

  David pretended to trip and fell to the ground, landing on his rump.

  Demetri forced him onto his back, brandishing the sword, then held it to David’s throat. David’s heart slammed against his ribcage. Would Demetri try to hurt him? After all, he was just a slave. He could do whatever he liked.

  Stepping back, Demetri allowed David to climb to his feet.

  “You’re a good fighter.” Demetri turned and handed his sword and shield to another slave.

  “You put up quite a challenge for your size,” Grandfather said, staring wide-eyed at David. “Impressive, indeed.”

  “The next time I return to the villa, I’d enjoy another duel with this one,” Demetri said.

  “I’m sure Titus will keep him in good condition for you.” Aloysius nodded.

  David dropped his sword and shield into the basket and made his way toward Titus. He hoped he’d been pleasing to both Aloysius and Titus.

  “Now that the house is finished, I’m not sure how soon I’ll be able to return.” Demetri wiped the sweat from his brow. “Being in the country does me good. I haven’t felt this well since we left Alexandria.”

  “You’re welcome anytime. Come whenever you’d like.” Aloysius smiled.

  Titus came to David’s side, and they stood close to where Alethea was hiding. She kept very still, hoping to remain unnoticed. David forced back a smile.

  “You did what the master expected,” Titus said. “Well done.”

  David nodded, surprised that Titus knew he’d let Demetri win. He held onto those words. They gave him hope. He knew he was pleasing to Titus, and with the way the fight ended, Aloysius was very pleased. David took in a deep breath, seeing a glimmer of hope in his future.

  Titus walked away, leaving David standing alone by the plant.

  “Did you enjoy the show?” He cast Alethea a side-glance.

  Alethea gasped. “How’d you know I was here?”

  He chuckled, but stopped and pretended to stretch. “I always know where you are.”

  She beamed with joy. “Then you’ll know where to meet me after you get cleaned up. There’s something I want to ask you.”

  He cast her a wary look, but she turned and fled before he could say no.

  Ω

  Alethea sat on the wall. She swung her feet over the edge and gazed out across the clearing. David sat next to her. His presence made her heart beat faster. It was good to finally be alone with him. She wanted to make this moment last. She sighed and lifted her face to the sun, taking in the sounds of the birds, the breeze against her skin, and the leather and pine scent of David at her side.

  “So, what’d you want?” David asked, his voice waking her from her reverie. He gazed off into the clearing, his long legs dangling over the wall’s edge. His tanned arms propped him up, and if she moved just a little closer, she might brush against him. He cast a side-glance in her direction.

  “Why did He have to die?” she asked.

  “Who?”

  “Your Yahshua.”

  David let out a humph. “My Yahshua?”

  “Yes.” She straightened, knowing he was insulted that she didn’t call Him her Yahshua. “Why couldn’t your God just clap His hands and save everyone? Why’d His Son have to die?”

  David sighed. “Good question.” He studied the horizon, his mouth closed as if tasting her words. “God wanted the Hebrews to understand how evil mankind is, so He told them they had to sacrifice the best animals for every sin they committed. All that blood . . . .” David shook his head in disgust. “All that carnage was supposed to show us how evil sin is. But the blood of goats and bulls couldn’t take away sins. Yahshua is perfect. He is Elohim, so He sacrificed Himself like a lamb.”

  “But why?” Alethea rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Why didn’t God just say, ‘Your sins are forgiven’ and be done with it?”

  David cocked his head. “Because Christ’s blood makes us clean. Nothing else can. And without it, we can’t be with God.”

  Alethea crossed her legs. “Well, I’m glad I don’t have any sin.”

  David rested his elbows on his knees and watched her, but Alethea avoided his gaze.

  “No one is without sin, Aucella.” He leaned toward her. “No one.”

  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but quickly refocused her attention on the horizon. “It doesn’t make sense.” She shrugged. “Why make someone die when all you’d have to do is clap your hands?”

  David stared at her for a while, studying her.

  Shifting under his scrutinizing gaze, she leaned forward and watched the birds soar and dance on the air in front of them.

  A gentle breeze caressed her cheek as David lifted her chin. He forced her to look at him. His blue eyes fixated on hers.

  “Passion,” he said.

  Alethea took a long shuddering breath.

  “What shows greater love?” He continued to hold her chin. “Someone who sacrifices himself to save your life, or just claps his hands?”

  His words were powerful and sent a chill down her spine. David released her chin and she felt a tinge of disappointment. She couldn’t imagine dying for anyone. Never would she be able to love someone so deeply. The people Yahshua died for owed David’s God a great debt. Peering up at David she asked, “Your God loves us, but how do we love Him back? Since we can’t see Him, or hear Him, or touch Him.” She shrugged. “How do we love Him?” She would have liked to give David’s God a hug, but how could she do that when she couldn’t even see Him? How could she kiss Him when she had no engraved image of Him?

  David stared out over the field and into the trees. “You love Him by obeying Him.”

  Alethea sighed. For some reason, she didn’t like that answer. That was too much work. Obeying Him meant becoming a Christian. Offering a hug and a kiss required less effort. Instead, He wanted everything. She couldn’t give everything. Not if it meant her life.

  fifteen

  Holding a flower to her nose, Alethea sauntered into the atrium. She stopped at the sight of a filthy woman weeping on the floor. A chain dragged from her ankle and a brand mark scarred her upper arm.

  One of the slaves from the vineyard. What was she doing here?

  The woman lay at Grandfather’s feet. Eyes moist, Grandfather motioned for a slave to come.

  The woman was helped to her feet, and she leaned heavily on the slave’s arm.

  “What happened?” Alethea asked Grandmother who stood nearby, dabbing her eyes.

  “A wild boar killed her child.”

  Alethea’s heart went to her throat as she watched the grieving woman being led away. “But there are no wild animals in these parts.”

  “Men were bringing wild boars in for one of the spectacles for Caesar’s new amphitheater. Before they reached the city gates, the cage fell and burst open. Several of the boars are running loose not far from here. They were able to recapture a few, but some got away.”

  Alethea shuddered. Her heart went out to the woman who wept for her lost child.

  Ω

  Alethea sat with her wooden writing tablet held up to her chin and blew wax fragments off the page.

  “Alethea, be careful,” Vibia said. “You just blew wax all over me.”

  “Sorry.” She glanced at Vibia who wrote, holding her tablet in her lap. Her paragraph was only half completed, while Alethea was now finished.

  Decimus cleared his throat from the other side of the room and threw the girls a stern look. He sat before Marcus, Lucius, and Paulus, instructing them in their work.

  Alethea looked at her work with pride. What was that? The wrong word. She flipped her stylus over and smoothed out the mistake with its flat end. She proceeded to write the correct word when Grandmother entered the chamber.

  She motioned for Alethea to come.

  Alethea wrote the word, blew the wax off its
page—only to notice Vibia scowling—and folded the tablet closed. After she set the thin sheets of wood on her chair for Decimus to find, she followed Grandmother into the peristyle.

  Grandmother turned. “Demetri is leaving, and I want you to serve drinks. We will be in the outer courtyard.”

  Alethea nodded and skipped toward the kitchen, stifling a shout of joy that Demetri would soon be gone.

  Luckily, she had completed her paragraph for Decimus, otherwise she would be expected to finish it before the day was through. Perhaps this meant she would later be granted free time? And what better way to celebrate her new found freedom than to play in the woods with David.

  As soon as the tray was laden down with full goblets, she carried it to the courtyard. Demetri stood with his back to her and spoke to Grandfather, while Grandmother stood nearby. Alethea balanced the tray of drinks and was careful to watch her step as she neared the trio.

  “I hope to persuade you. Please, allow me to take her in marriage now,” Demetri said.

  Alethea froze. She caught Grandmother’s eye.

  Grandmother turned toward Demetri. “But she is only twelve and not yet in the way of a woman. Surely you can wait?”

  “Silence, Renata. I will take care of this,” Grandfather said.

  Alethea dropped the tray of drinks.

  “No!” She ran to her grandfather and fell at his feet. “Please don’t make me marry him. Please!”

  Grandmother came and pulled Alethea up.

  “Please!” She grabbed her grandmother’s stola. “Don’t make me marry him. I’m too young . . . please.” She wailed at the thought of being bound to Demetri for life. She hadn’t even had the chance to find a way to marry David yet.

  Demetri frowned down at her.

  Her anger raged and she faced him. “You are not interested in me, you just want land. You can have the land. Take it! Just let me be!” She ran from the courtyard.

  Her cries echoed off the portico as she neared the gymnasium. Everything around her spun. She thought she saw David but didn’t bother to be sure. Sobs racked through her as she ran past the stables and into the field.

  What was she to do? She would run away. That was the solution. She hated Demetri. He cared nothing for her; he only cared for himself. He was greedy for land. And he’d never care for her unless she was a horse.

  She made her way through the trees, snagging her hair on lower branches. She tore herself free, just as she wished to tear herself free from the clutches of that man.

  She prayed desperately to David’s God as she climbed the big pine, her arms scratched and bruised from her haste. “Please, God of David. Make him go away.” She cried as she stepped onto the wall from the tree. She paused long enough to fold her hands and look up to the sky. “Make Mpampas come; make Mpampas come for me. Please save me from Demetri.”

  She then slid down the mound of dirt and ran through the clearing. Her breath came hard and her heart hammered in her chest, but she didn’t slow her pace.

  “Alethea!”

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  David stood atop the wall near the big pine, his dagger poised in his hand. “Come back! There’s danger!”

  She looked all around. Her vision blurred from her tears. She saw no danger. What was he taking about? A loud squeal came from the other side of the clearing. A pig with large tusks came straight at her.

  Screaming, she turned and ran.

  “Run this way! Come to the wall!” David shouted, waving his arms.

  She ran along the wall toward the mound.

  David ran on the wall toward her.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the boar and its giant tusks not far behind. She screamed and pumped her arms and legs as fast as she could.

  Out of breath, she climbed up the mound, grasping the rocks, pulling herself to the top. Her arms were weak and her legs wouldn’t move as fast as she needed. Just as she came to the top, David leaped behind her.

  A loud squeal and grunt came from the boar. When she turned, she saw the boar take off down the mound of dirt with David on its back.

  Gasping for breath, she thought her heart would beat itself right out of her chest. She couldn’t move and lay exhausted in the dirt.

  David gripped one of the boar’s tusks and stabbed its rump with his dagger, but the boar kept on running. He stabbed the boar again and again, but it did nothing to slow the animal.

  The boar tore through the clearing with David on its back. She prayed to David’s God that he wouldn’t get hurt.

  David’s face was mean and red as he furiously thrust his dagger in and out of the boar’s backside.

  The sight brought back memories of them riding the sow in the field.

  The boar jumped and turned and sped in circles.

  David grabbed both tusks to keep his balance, still holding his dagger. He bobbed back and forth, up and down. When they turned, the rump of the boar looked as though it was David’s rump: half man, half boar.

  Again, she was brought back to those days in the field with the sow.

  She watched the boar kick its stubby hind legs and shake its rump. David’s backside disappeared onto the boar’s back, while the animal’s rounded behind appeared to be a part of David. Her lips tugged into a smile, despite the anger and horror she felt inside. She stifled a giggle.

  David bounced all around, but he kept his hold as he jabbed his dagger into the beast. Nothing fazed it. Again, she saw the boar’s rump as though it were David’s. They zipped by the mound where she lay in the dirt, giggling. Horrified by her own laughter, even as tears flowed down her cheeks, she covered her mouth and hid her face. David was in danger, and she was laughing. What was wrong with her?

  Just then, David leaned forward and thrust his dagger into the boar’s throat. The boar let out a guttural gag, and blood sprayed in all directions.

  She bit her lip, stifling her giggles, wanting to bang her head against the wall. Anger overcame her. Anger at herself for such foolish behavior.

  David dug the knife in deeper, and finally the boar came to a stop. It sat on its haunches and teetered as David gave the dagger one last twist. His face was bloody and angry, making her blush from having laughed. Tears still covered her cheeks, and she wondered if she were going mad.

  “Go!” he shouted at her, pointing to the wall. “There may be others.”

  She jumped to her feet and climbed over the wall; she’d never gotten over it so fast.

  David followed close behind.

  Safe on the other side, she stared at the blood covering David’s arm to his elbow. It dripped from the dagger in his hand, and large spatters were on his face and tunic. His blue eyes flared.

  “I assume you’re not hurt since you found the whole scene amusing.”

  She wanted to bury her face in her stola. Visions of the boar’s behind and David’s back flashed through her mind. How shameful! She nearly laughed out loud again. She pursed her lips together to keep from smiling. She forced her attention on the blood, a good reminder of the horrifying situation at hand. Anger coursed through her. How could she do this? Why couldn’t she stop laughing?

  She couldn’t explain her actions when she didn’t even understand them herself. “David, I’m sorry.” She reached out to touch his arm, the one without the blood.

  A scowl etched on his face, and he jerked himself away as if she might bite.

  She stepped back, and a sick feeling turned in the pit of her stomach. He had never looked at her that way before. “Are you hurt?”

  He shook his head, still frowning. “We should get back to the house.”

  The look on his face frightened her. It was like looking at a statue, and she couldn’t do anything to mold it into something else. Guilt pricked her conscience. “David?”

  He ignored her and kept walking.

  “David, I’m sorry.”

  Silence.

  They continued walking. The only sounds were the crunching of pinecones beneath
their sandals. That unusual frown continued to distort his face.

  She could bear the silence no more. Alethea fell on his tunic. “David, please, I’m so sorry. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  “No, I’m not hurt.” He stopped. “Let go of me. You’ll get blood on yourself.”

  “I don’t care,” Alethea cried. “Oh David, please forgive me. I don’t know why I was laughing.” She hated herself for it. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Come.” He started walking again, shaking her off of him.

  She followed. How could she make it up to him? He just saved her life, not to mention, risked his own. And she had laughed. This was awful.

  They walked in silence toward the house. With each step they took, her stomach tightened. Tears welled in her eyes and poured down her cheeks as they neared the courtyard.

  They came into the plaza, and an astonished look came over her mother’s face. Cornelia screamed. She ran up to Alethea and practically shook her.

  “You’re bleeding! What happened?” Her eyes were wild, examining Alethea from head to toe.

  Alethea looked down at her stola. She had gotten blood on herself from David’s tunic.

  “I’m not bleeding, Mother. I’m fine.” She sniffed back the tears and was surprised that her mother showed no concern for David, who was covered in the blood. But didn’t Alethea just do the same?

  Grandmother and other slaves appeared. Grandmother rushed to Alethea, and some of the slaves hurried to David.

  “She’s not wounded,” Cornelia spat out.

  Alethea gasped. Was her mother disappointed that she wasn’t hurt? Then she noticed the look Cornelia shot David. Her mother’s eyes flashed with anger.

  “Mother, Damonus saved me from a boar. He saved my life.”

  Cornelia stared at Alethea, a look of disbelief on her face. “A boar?”

  “Yes, it’s true.”

  “You were on the other side of the wall?” Grandmother’s lips pinched together.