“Right now.”
She’d seen that look before. They should stop debating with him. They would lose.
“He wants to do it now. And we can, so we should,” said Paulos.
Tia’s stomach flip-flopped. Going to the river was much too risky. If even one person saw them . . . Why couldn’t he wait? Did it really make that much difference?
Paulos looked up at Loukas, wincing. “Can you do it?”
“I’d be delighted.”
“But where? Is this deep enough?” Timos pointed to the impluvium. “Or do we have to go to the river? I hate to do that at this time of night. That might draw a lot of unwanted attention.”
“What about my fountain?” Quin said.
“Your fountain?” asked Timos.
He pointed to his garden in the back of the house. “The previous owner put a fountain in. I think the building was the bakery before it was made to move to the market with the other workshops, so they needed the water. The aqueduct isn’t far from here.”
Loukas smiled widely. “That’s perfect. We have three, then.”
“I—”
Everyone turned to stare at Tia.
Loukas neared her. “Are you all right?”
She fought to speak past the lump in her throat. “I haven’t been baptized yet. I hadn’t been able to leave the house.”
Loukas’s broad smile returned. “Then I guess we have four.”
Quin was risking his life. She could too.
Quin fidgeted. Had he acted too rashly? If just one person—the wrong person—found out, they could all be put in prison, or executed.
Too late now. God would have to protect them.
Paulos and Silas sat on a couch to the side, silent but smiling. Timos stood near the fountain, ready to assist Loukas if needed.
Charis stood in the water, soaking wet.
A beaming Epaphras, in a damp tunic, hair wet, held up a towel for her.
Charis twisted her hair until it stopped dripping. She shook the water from her hands and moved to the edge.
Epaphras reached for her and helped her out.
Quin smiled. They were perfect for one another.
“Tia?” Loukas held out a hand. The basin was big enough for only one person to immerse themselves, so Loukas had remained outside the fountain.
She stepped into the basin and faced him.
Quin shifted his position slightly so he could see her face.
Tia caught his stare and smiled for a moment before returning her attention to the man in front of her. How could any one person be so beautiful?
“Tia, I know you’ve already said all this before, but I’m going to ask you again. Do you believe in Yeshua, that He died for your sins, that He rose again, and that by this belief you are forgiven and will live forever with Him in heaven?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Do you participate in this baptism as a sign of your death to this world, your repentance of sin, and your resurrection in Christ?”
“I do.”
She dropped to her knees before he continued. “Then I baptize you in the name of God the Father, God the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Loukas knelt beside her. Leaning over the low wall of the basin, he placed one hand behind her head, and one on her waist. She lay back, Loukas supporting her as she sank under the water for just a moment.
When she came up, she was radiant. Her blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight. She laughed, softly, as Loukas helped her to stand.
Charis met her at the edge of the fountain. She wrapped a towel around Tia’s shoulders as she stepped over the wall.
He was now the only one left.
“Quin?”
He dragged his gaze from Tia to Loukas.
“Second thoughts?”
“No, no.”
Loukas smiled. Or maybe smirked. It was hard to tell. “All right then. Quietly.”
Quin climbed into the water.
The physician’s smile disappeared. “I’m going to ask you the same questions everyone else has answered. I want you to think very carefully before you answer.”
“Why do only I get this warning?”
“Because only for you is this illegal.”
Of course. The charges against Paulos and Silas. Only approved gods were allowed to be worshiped by Romans. “Go ahead.”
“Are you sure? Along with what else you’ve done tonight, the penalty could be death.”
Quin chuckled dryly. “I’ve faced death many times. Almost every day in battle. And for nothing more than the glory of Rome. I may not even live to see another sunrise.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Tia. “I’d rather die with Yeshua than without. No Roman god has offered me peace, forgiveness, love . . . I’m more certain of this than I’ve ever been of anything in my life.”
Loukas smiled. “Very well.”
Tia remained. He could feel the chill on his own wet hands. Soaked to the bone, she must be freezing. And yet she waited for him.
After the questions, Quin knelt. Loukas tipped him back. The water rushed in over his head, washing away his past, washing away his sin. As if he’d been buried and would emerge an entirely new creature. Was that even possible?
Suddenly all the things Paulos had been saying made perfect sense. He’d been buried with Yeshua through baptism into death, and now he’d be raised from the dead to live a new life.
His old self had been crucified and he had been set free from sin.
Just when he felt his chest would be crushed from lack of air, Loukas pulled him up. He sucked in a great breath of air and blinked the water from his eyes.
He felt like a new man. Yeshua had recreated him. He had the same body, he faced the same circumstances, but he had a new spirit.
And a new family.
He understood the look on Tia’s face from moments ago. Doubtless he had the same look.
He stood, rubbing the water from his face and hair.
Loukas grinned. “All right?”
“Never better.”
“I love baptizing people.” He smiled as he picked up a towel and gave it to Quin, then headed inside.
Quin clambered out.
Elantia neared him.
Still dripping wet, he grabbed her, enveloping her in a fierce embrace. He buried his face in her neck. He had no words to describe the onslaught of emotions he was battling. None were necessary.
The aroma of roasting root vegetables and flatbread filled the domus. Tia breathed deeply. When had she last enjoyed eating? Britannia?
Charis and Epaphras had changed into dry clothes and were filling trays with flatbread, carrots, turnips, and onions.
“May I help?” asked Tia.
“No.” Charis flashed a bright smile as she handed Epaphras the tray of vegetables. “You can come get a dry tunic with me.”
Tia followed her back to the front of the domus. The doors to the rooms on the left of the atrium hung askew. A large crack punctuated the wall.
No wonder Charis had been so panicked when she arrived at Lydia’s. The quake had indeed been far more powerful here.
“Wait here. There’s a huge crack in the ceiling. Let me just grab one.”
“What is she doing?” Quin’s harsh voice startled both of them.
Tia pulled at her soaked clothing. “She’s getting me a dry tunic.”
Quin moved toward the room. “Charis, come out! What if the roof collapses on you?”
Charis emerged, tunic in hand, face pale. “I’m sorry, Domine.” She bowed her head and took two steps back.
Quin closed his eyes and rubbed his hand down his face. “Charis, I’m the one who is sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I just . . . don’t want you to get hurt.”
She raised her head. “I did nothing wrong?”
He smiled. Or tried to. “Of course not. Just stay in the back of the house, all right? Preferably the garden.”
She nodded, just a hint of a smile on her lips. Handing the garment to Tia, she hurried down the hal
l.
“What was that?”
He sighed. “Apparently I frighten her.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What did you do to her?”
He brought his hand to his chest. “I did nothing to her! Her former owner did something awful, but I don’t know who. Or what. But I guess I somehow remind her of him. That’s only the second time she’s spoken to me since we’ve met.”
“Maybe she’ll trust you more now.”
“I hope.” He gestured across the atrium. “You can change in my room. It appears to be undamaged.”
After changing into dry clothes, she joined the others in the garden. All the couches had been dragged into the area.
“I’m sorry this is so small.” Quin hunched his shoulders and looked around sheepishly.
“After the room we were in, this is luxurious.” Silas, in a fresh tunic and sandals, laughed.
“You really didn’t need to go to such trouble.” Paulos gestured to the food now on a low table in the center of the group.
Quin scoffed. “When was the last time you ate?”
Paulos thought a moment. “Yesterday morning.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I was very happy to make this for you,” Charis said. “I wish we had more.”
“This is more than enough. We’ve gone with much less. Sometimes nothing at all. May I thank God for this food, and this night?” asked Paulos.
“Please.”
“Our gracious Father, we thank You for these new lives in You. We thank You that You have delivered them from the domain of darkness and transferred them to the kingdom of Your beloved Son, in order to accomplish the good work that You have prepared for them. We ask that You would help them walk in a manner worthy of You, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of You. Strengthen them with Your power, according to Your glorious might, and keep them safe until that work is finished. We thank You for this food that You have provided for us. In the name of Yeshua. Amen.”
The bowls emptied quickly with five hungry men. Tia helped Charis refill them with anything they could find in the disordered culina that normally held only enough to feed three.
Tia ached to talk to Quin, but he peppered Paulos with more questions. She tried to content herself with the knowledge that he was safe, and a follower of the Way, but was he avoiding her? Or just trying to satisfy his insatiable curiosity while he had Paulos’s attention?
She dropped onto a lectus next to Silas.
“He’s not really trying to ignore you, you know.”
She snapped her head around toward the gentle old man. “I’m sorry?”
“My guess? He’s worried about growing even closer to you than he already is, not knowing what might happen later today.”
Her breathing sped up. Did his safety depend on Paulos and Silas remaining in chains? This was not fair. He had just decided to follow the Way. “What will they do to him?”
Silas shrugged. “It depends. On what they would have done to us.”
Her heart sank. In her fear for Quin, she had forgotten all about them. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking about . . .” She grasped his hand. “What will they do to you?”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that.” He grinned. “They can’t do much to us”—his smile faded—“but I don’t know about Quin. He let prisoners escape. At least that’s the way they could see it. We shall simply have to pray for him.”
Her heart felt as if it had been ripped into tiny pieces. And stomped on. How could everything go from so wonderful, to so achingly horrible, in only moments?
“How many times has God answered your prayers already in the last few days? There is no reason to think He cannot do so again.”
Easy for Silas to say. But this trusting God part was new for her. And getting harder.
27
“When it was daylight, the magistrates sent their officers to the jailer . . .”
Acts 16:35
The moon had long since retreated, and the rising sun was winning its battle with the darkness. Soft pink and orange dared peek over the eastern horizon, growing bolder by the moment.
In his doorway, Quin peered over Elantia’s shoulder at the rest of the group, waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Loukas looked up protectively every few moments. “The sun will be fully risen soon. Gallus and his lictors may be here any time. You need to go.”
She lay her head against his chest. “I know. I don’t want to, though.” She shivered.
“Cold?”
“A little.”
He fingered the edge of Charis’s cloak around her shoulders. “I have no idea what will happen today.”
“Silas told me some of what might happen. I’ll be praying for you.”
His heart warmed at the thought. Yesterday that would have meant nothing, but this morning . . . “You have no idea how wonderful that sounds.”
“I’ve been praying for you ever since Paulos told me—” Her voice broke. Unshed tears made her eyes sparkle like sapphires.
He tucked a loose strand of golden hair into her hood. “Carissima,” he whispered. He longed to kiss her again, but as uncertain as things were . . . he was playing with fire already.
“Good-bye, cariatu.” She hurried down the stairs.
He watched until she was safely in the care of Loukas and then ducked back inside.
“All right. Let’s get you both back down to the jail. Loukas and Epaphras carried a lectus down for you before they left so you won’t have to sit on the floor while we wait to see what Gallus does.” Quin helped Paulos down the steps, and Epaphras escorted Silas.
Once the pair settled, Quin checked on the others. In the main hall, Stolos had each of the prisoners back in the cells, which still had intact chains, while Pandaros swept up rubble in the cells farthest from the door. At least he had returned. That spoke well of him. Perhaps he was learning.
“The men seem to be secure, even though the doors are destroyed. Fourth watch is nearly over, so Pandaros, as soon as you are relieved, please find the blacksmith and the carpenter.”
“Yes, Domine.”
He fisted his hands on his hips and scanned the jail. “We’re going to need a great deal of wood. Make sure you give them a general idea of what happened before they come. I don’t want a lot of time wasted going back and forth. Have them bring as much material with them as they can the first time. I’m sure Gallus will make this a priority. It doesn’t need to be pretty, just secure.”
“Domine?”
Quin spun around. “Yes, Pandaros?”
“Is there nothing else you want to say to me?”
He drew in a long, slow breath. “Not yet. Just get my jail repaired.” He headed back to the front but halted as if he’d run into a stone wall.
Servius, primus lictor, stood barely four strides away. He carried himself as if he were above everyone, above the law he so forcefully represented.
“Jailer!” the lictor barked unnecessarily loudly.
Quin nodded. “Servius.”
“What is this?” He wagged a finger back and forth, pointing to the fallen doors.
“The earthquake? Surely you felt it.”
“A mere tremor. Nothing to cause this kind of destruction.”
Quin stepped nearer. “Here, it was more than a tremor, as you can see. But everyone is accounted for. Would you like to see the records?”
“I would.”
Of course he would. Quin nodded to Stolos, who marched toward the corner to retrieve them.
“In the meantime, Gallus Crispus Scipio has sent me to inform you that the Jewish prisoners shall be released. They are to leave the city immediately.”
Paulos slowly rose from his seat, grimacing with every move. He stepped toward the lictor, Silas behind him. “You wish us to leave the city?”
“Yes. In his great mercy, the magistrate has decreed that you may go in peace.”
Paulos pursed his lips and nodded. “Hmm.”
<
br /> Quin clenched his jaw. He knew that “hmm.” It was not a good sign.
“You beat us publicly and threw us into prison.”
“You were found guilty of disturbing the peace and causing Romans to worship a foreign god.”
“Declared guilty? Without a trial?”
“The duovir has unfettered authority. He does not need a trial.”
“To find Roman citizens guilty?”
And there was the look Quin waited for. Utter shock. Confusion. Disbelief. If the situation weren’t so deadly serious, he would laugh.
“And now you wish us to disappear? Slink out of the city so no one will know the disgrace and illegality of which you are guilty? I think not.”
Paulos was nearing the end of his strength. Servius probably couldn’t tell, spending his entire life as a public official following around another official, most of the time indoors, but as a soldier, Quin knew. Paulos’s breath was shallow and rapid, his cheeks were pinking—though that could also be his anger.
Paulos turned around and took his seat again. “If the duovir wants us gone, he can come and escort us from Philippi himself.”
Servius looked at Quin.
Quin shrugged. “You heard him. Send Gallus.”
“This is outrageous. Who are you to demand such a thing?”
Silas stepped forward. “We could always appeal directly to Rome.”
Servius glared, then spun on his heel and left the hall.
Quin sprinted past the destroyed door after him. “Servius. I have a message for you to deliver to Gallus. And tell it word for word. Understand?”
If only she could melt into the wall. There were far too many people here in Lydia’s house. Epaphras and Charis. All of Lydia’s household: Demas, Syntyche, Zenobia. The men from the dyeworks. Some other women she didn’t know. The grain merchant and his family—when had they believed?
Where was Euodia? Stuck at Max’s house, most likely. Now that it was known what went on at the river, he’d never let her come again.
And when he finally caught Tia, as he was sure to do, she wouldn’t be allowed to come either. But she’d be strong. She’d survive. She’d weathered wars in Britannia, she’d lived through the sea voyage, she’d survived the beating . . . she could live though this. The Father would be with her.
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