Sold Into Freedom

by Carole Towriss

Paulos stood and paced a moment, rubbing his beard. “Hmm.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “What?”

  “That hmm.”

  “Just thinking. Why do you feel you must kill or conquer in order to protect her?”

  “I don’t, necessarily. I just don’t know anything else. It’s what I’ve been trained to do. It’s all I’ve done for the past fourteen years. It’s all anyone has ever wanted from me, the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”

  “And why do you believe you are the only one capable of protecting her?”

  “Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it. And neither is your god. I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask mine.”

  “Did you ask my God?”

  “To protect Tia? No. Why would I?” He wasn’t sure he believed in his own gods, let alone the god of Paulos.

  “Perhaps He has a plan for her life.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He brought you into her life. He brought me into it.”

  Was he kidding? “And look at what you’ve done! You made her unable to hear her goddess and now they’ve beaten her!”

  Paulos arched a brow. “You maintain she would have been better off left as she was? A slave? Barely subsisting? At the beck and call of her domini, day and night, for their amusement? You have no idea what the living God has in store for her, or for you for that matter.”

  “And you do?”

  “No, I don’t. I do only what He asks me to do. He only asked me to help free her from the bonds of the spirit that kept her bound.”

  Quin sighed. “And what happens now?”

  “I don’t know specifically. I do know this story is not over. The Father is not done with her. Or with you. You must have patience, and you must have faith.”

  “Faith?” Quin laughed. “Faith has never gotten me anywhere. I had faith in my pater and he disowned me. I had faith in the army, and they discarded me when I was no longer useful.” He could hear his voice rising but, for once, was powerless to stop it. “I had faith in Rome and her government, and I was cheated out of my reward for my long, painful years of service. And now I have nothing!” His breath came faster, his heart pounded. He hadn’t meant to yell. None of this was Paulos’s fault.

  “Quin. Sit with me.” He sat once again on the lectus beside the pool.

  Quin dragged his hand though his hair, trying to slow the pounding in his chest, a pounding he hadn’t felt since he was on the fields of Britannia.

  “Come.” The teacher smiled.

  Quin sat once again, sighing deeply. “I’m sorry.”

  “I understand your frustration. I, too, once felt the need to take matters into my own hands. It didn’t end well. I only made things worse, much worse.”

  For once Quin heard a twinge of regret in the old man’s voice.

  “I need you to realize something, though. Yeshua loves you, and Elantia, more than you can possibly understand. As much as you want to protect her, He wants to more. As far as you will go, sacrificing to a god you no longer trust in a desperate grasp for hope, He will go further. He loves her—and you and me—with a love unquenchable, undefinable, deeper, wider, higher than you can ever dream of. And He will do whatever it takes to bring to pass what He has in store for her. He doesn’t need your help.”

  “So I just stand and watch while they come take her away? Do nothing?”

  “Ah. I never said do nothing.” Paulos smiled, his eyes shining bright. “You can work with Him or against Him. Which do you think would be the more profitable way?”

  “And how am I supposed to work with Him, exactly?”

  “You can start by learning more about Him, so you can trust Him.”

  Quin shook his head. That all sounded very well and good, coming from someone like Paulos, but every time he trusted someone in authority, he ended up getting burned.

  There was no reason to think this time would be any different.

  Tia winced as the brush Lydia drew through her locks pulled a little. “Lydia, what am I going to do if they come back? If they find me?”

  “We shall pray that they don’t.”

  “But what if they do?” She fingered the soft petals of a rose planted nearby.

  Lydia set aside the brush and moved to the other side of the couch to face her.

  Tia looked up. “You know Euodia? The girl who helped me escape?”

  “Yes, I know her very well. She comes to pray with us whenever she can. Whenever Max allows her.”

  “She says she worships Paulos’s God.”

  Lydia nodded, her chestnut curls swaying. “She does. She was with us at the river when he told us about Yeshua.”

  “But she is still a slave.”

  “Of course.”

  “Then what good will it do me to worship him if I will still be a slave?”

  Lydia’s green eyes widened. “Why did you think that worshipping Him would make you free?”

  “Because Euodia said that she believed her god led her to my door that night so she could help me escape. Why would her god want me to escape if he was just going to send me back to them?”

  “That’s an excellent question. Maybe He did lead her to your door. And maybe He will set you free. I don’t know. It is not always possible to know the mind of God.”

  “But what about Euodia? Is she to remain a slave in the house of Max?”

  “You know, I’ve been a God-fearer for most of my life, and for most of my life, I, too, was a slave.”

  Tia exhaled a long, slow breath. This beautiful, elegant woman, who owned this huge home, her own business, who spoke with Roumani rulers and slaves alike with the same kindness and confidence, had been a slave? How was this possible? “When? Where?”

  “In Lydia. It’s a city in Anatolia. A place far away from here.”

  “Lydia?”

  “Yes. My given name is quite difficult to pronounce. When I moved here people called me “the Lydian” or “the woman from Lydia” when they couldn’t remember it or say it, and eventually I just became known as Lydia.”

  Memories of the day Max and Cassia toyed with the idea of changing her name caused her to shudder.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. Please continue.”

  “I was born into slavery. There was another servant there who was a Jew. When I was only a small child, he told us about the living God. Many of us began to worship Him. We would meet late at night after our duties were complete, and he would teach us.”

  “Weren’t you afraid of getting caught?”

  “Not really. The estate was enormous, and we all lived in another building. There was little chance of the dominus finding us. But the point is, I was still a slave for many, many years after I came to know about and worship the living God. I grew up and married as a slave. I learned about dying cloth. And it was not until about ten years ago that I was given my freedom, when the dominus died and freed us all. Then my husband and I came here to Philippi, and he died shortly after we arrived.”

  “Oh, Lydia, I’m so sorry.”

  “But, Tia, think about this. If I hadn’t been a slave in that household, I would not have heard about the living God, or learned to dye, or met my husband. I would not have come here to Philippi, I wouldn’t have this house and I wouldn’t be able to help you.”

  “So . . . God made you a slave so you could help me?”

  Syn entered the peristyle, carrying a platter of fresh fruit and bread. She placed the food on an empty lectus and sat beside it.

  “I’m not sure I would say that. I don’t think He plans for evil to come into our lives. But I will say that God can enter into even the worst situations in our lives, and turn them into blessings, if we let Him.”

  “So, back to Euodia, then. Is she to remain a slave?”

  “I can’t answer that. I know that so far, she has never been beaten. God has protected her in that house. And I offered to buy her from Max, but she wanted to remain there
. She believes that is where God wants her. At least for now. And it appears she was right. She helped you.”

  Syn closed the door of the cupboard she’d put the clothes in. “I can’t believe she had an opportunity to be free and she turned it down.”

  “Syn—”

  “Well, it’s foolish!”

  “Syn, not now.” Lydia’s voice was firm.

  Tia’s eyes burned. Had Euodia sacrificed her safety for Elantia? “She wanted to stay?”

  Lydia nodded.

  God had put her there, just for Tia. “God did that, for me, didn’t He?”

  “The Father loves you, more than you can possibly imagine.”

  “But I have done some terrible things. I have lied, I have fought in many battles . . . how can He love me?” Tears fell, chasing each other down her cheeks. “I mean, you are such a good person. I can’t . . . He can’t . . .”

  Lydia gestured to someone over Tia’s shoulder. “Paulos. Please join us.”

  A gentle hand landed on her shoulder. “Tia, how are you feeling today?” He sat on the lectus across from them. “Oh, why are you crying?”

  Tia wiped her cheeks and looked to Lydia.

  “Tia was telling me that God couldn’t love her because of the terrible things she has done.”

  Paulos chuckled softly.

  Irritation pricked the skin of Tia’s neck. Couldn’t he see her pain? Why was this funny?

  “Elantia, do you know what I used to do? Before I traveled the Empire telling people about Yeshua?”

  She shrugged. “No.”

  “I was one of the Jewish leaders. And we didn’t like the news of Yeshua. It angered us, because He was claiming to be God’s Son. We considered it blasphemy, of the worst kind. So I spent many years chasing down His followers, dragging them out of their houses, and throwing them in jail. I even saw some of them stoned to death. And I was proud of it.”

  The shock she felt at Lydia’s revelation paled in comparison to the impact of Paulos’s. An enemy sword could not have opened her soul wider.

  “That look on your face? The way you feel? That’s what you expect from Yeshua, yes?”

  Tia’s cheeks heated. Who was she to judge this man?

  Paulos came off the lectus and knelt before her. “But He won’t reject you. Because He has already paid the penalty for anything you or I have done, or might do. Sin—the bad things we do—must be punished, yes, but Yeshua took that punishment for us.”

  “How did He do that?”

  “He died. He was crucified on a cross.”

  “So He’s dead?” What good was a dead god?

  “No.” Joy brightened Paulos’s face like the sun after a rainstorm. “On the third day after His execution, He rose from the dead. His death was the payment for our sin, and His resurrection means He has power over death. You will be free from the power of sin over your life, free from the false spirits who take over your thoughts. And you can live with God, now and forever. That’s all He’s ever wanted. To be with us, always.”

  Live with him, forever. That’s what Paulos had said in the forum. It was almost unbelievable.

  “All you have to do is acknowledge Yehsua’s death as payment for your sins.”

  How she wanted that. Freedom. Real freedom. “I want to do that. There is still so much I need to understand about Him, but I want that.”

  “Good. Then we’ll pray. And when we finish, you’ll be a child of God.”

  Paulos took one hand and Lydia took the other. His deep but gentle voice filled the air. “Praise be to God, the Father of our Yeshua the Christ. You chose us before the creation of the world to be blameless in Your sight, and to be adopted as Your children. Because of Yeshua we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. I ask that You, our glorious Father, give to Tia the spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that she may know You better. I pray also that the eyes of her heart be enlightened in order that she may know the hope You have given us. Fill her with joy and peace as she trusts in You, so that she overflows with hope.”

  When he said “amen,” she looked up. And although nothing had changed, she knew somehow everything had.

  Gallus started at the knock on the door of his office in the basilica. “Yes?”

  Leonidas opened the door and poked his head in. “You asked for Helios to be brought to you?”

  He’d almost forgotten. “Send him in.”

  Gallus rolled the parchment he’d been reading as the scribe came to the center of the room. “Helios. I need your law expertise.”

  “Of course, Domine.” He dipped his head slightly. Not as much as he should, but Gallus would let it go. Helios knew the law better than anyone else in Macedonia. He would be swarmed by people seeking counsel if others were aware of how much Helios knew. But Gallus kept that information to himself and used Helios as his personal font of legal advice. It was illegal to charge for it, and the increase in prestige would do far more for Gallus than it ever could for a lowly freedman like Helios.

  He’d make it up to him.

  Some day.

  “You know about the escaped slave belonging to Max?”

  “I heard about her.”

  “Max would like to get some of his investment back. What legal options does he have?”

  “Because she escaped?”

  “No, fool. Because that Jew said something to her that has kept her from being able to tell the future. He has robbed Max of his income.”

  “Oh. In that case, let’s see.” Helios paced the floor, his arms crossed, the fingers of one hand drumming on the other arm. Every few seconds he mumbled. “Income . . . loss . . . damage . . . insult . . .”

  Abruptly, he halted. “All right, as I see it you have three options. Shall I write them down for you?”

  “No!” He hadn’t meant to answer so quickly. Or firmly. But he wanted none of this in writing. He had to commit it to memory instantly and be able to let it roll off his tongue like he’d dredged it up from his own memory. “That’s not necessary. Continue.”

  “First. Wrongful damage to property. This requires a financial loss, and also physical damage to the slave in question—”

  “Which they have.”

  “And also a physical act on the part of Paulos.”

  So that option was apparently out. As far as he knew, Paulos never touched her, and they had multiple witnesses to that.

  “Two. Insult. This means damage to the owner’s dignity, but again usually due to physical acts.”

  “Do all of these require a physical act?” If so, there was nothing to be done. Max was right. They would be ruined.

  “You could try for corruption of a slave.”

  “What does that require?”

  “That you show the Jew acted maliciously and that the slave has undergone a moral degradation.”

  “You can find nothing else?”

  “There’s really no way to prove that mere words can damage property, and that another person can take away her talent. One day she could tell the future, and the next she couldn’t. How can you prove who or what is responsible for that?”

  “You may go.”

  Helios departed. If anyone could find a reason in the law to hold the Jews responsible, it would be him. If he couldn’t, it wasn’t there.

  As he said, how do you prove someone’s words are responsible?

  But his words had done something. Gallus had seen it. He spoke, she dropped. And when she rose, her gift was gone.

  So Gallus needed to use the man’s words against him.

  But he also had to stay within the law. At least in public. If he were to risk stepping outside the law, it would be for his own gain, not his cousin’s.

  As Julius Caesar said, “If you must break the law, do it to seize power: in all other cases observe it.”

  21

  “When her owners realized that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace to face the authorities.”

  A
cts 16:19

  Quin stared at the wax tablet on his lap. Did he really care about how many prisoners had been in the jail for the last year? He hadn’t even been here. He tossed the tablet onto the low table beside him. The stylus bobbled on the edge a moment before clattering to the tile floor.

  He rose from his stool and tugged on the neck of his tunic against the stale air, which felt heavier with each breath. Stalking down one side of the central aisle of the prison, he yanked on the locks of the cells, testing their strength.

  He’d been on duty since midnight. He should go home and get some sleep. What he really wanted to do was visit Tia, see if she was feeling any better than the last time he saw her. If only he could somehow show her how much he would do, what he would give to keep her safe.

  If only he could convince himself that anything he did would work.

  He rubbed his hands down his stained tunic, wiping away sweat and grime. He’d need to change out of his jailer’s uniform first. She hated seeing him in it.

  “Stolos, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Tribune. Any specific orders?”

  “Just keep Pandaros from destroying anything.”

  Stolos’s chuckle followed him out the door and halfway up the stairs to his domus.

  The ever-present Epaphras met him in the atrium. “Domine, how can I help you?”

  “I just need to change my clothes.”

  “Of course.”

  Quin ducked into his cubiculum. He washed his face, changed his wool tunic for a fresh linen one, and headed to Lydia’s, but not before Charis appeared and handed him a fresh loaf of bread.

  Waiting at Lydia’s front door, he reviewed the last conversation he’d had with Paulos. Learn more about Him. A god was a god was a god. True, Paulos’s god did seem different from any other he’d heard of, but still, he had no need of any god. They’d never done him any good whatsoever.

  Demas opened the door and showed him to the atrium. “Please wait. Someone will be here to greet you.”

  Someone? Not Lydia? In her own house? Why not?

  His questions were answered when once again, Paulos joined him in the atrium. “Quin. I thought we could talk for a few moments before we joined the others.”