“I came to find out why you haven’t bothered to visit Mother.”
“Now you know.”
Marcus stood silent, anger pouring through him at her casual disregard. She didn’t even ask how their mother was. He gritted his teeth and wished he hadn’t come, for now that he saw how things were with her, he knew his duty and it sat ill with him.
Julia looked up at the veiled woman. “My shawl,” she said imperiously and held her arms out slightly so that it could be draped over her. She hoped Azar would forgive her abruptness, but she did have appearances to make. She must salvage her pride in the face of her brother’s disdain. Nothing had changed, least of all him.
She put her hand out, and Azar gave her the support she needed to rise from the couch. “Hatred is best met standing,” she said, smiling at Marcus coldly. “You may go,” she said to Azar.
“I will be outside if you need me, my lady.”
Marcus watched the veiled servant limp from the room. “A curious choice for a personal maid,” he said as she closed the door behind her.
“Azar is free to come and go as she pleases,” she said. She forced her lips into a mocking smile. She needed to strike back at him for hurting her and knew how best to do it. “She’s a Christian, Marcus. Don’t you find that deliciously ironic?”
Pain flickered across his face.
She saw she had wounded him and held the shawl tightly, trembling despite her resolve. She was sorry she had alluded to the past but justified herself because of his manner toward her. He had hurt her. Did he expect her to stand and take it? “How is Mother?”
“Nice of you to finally ask.”
She pressed her lips together, fighting against the force of his judgmental attitude. How he hated her! “And where have you been all these months?”
He didn’t answer. “Mother will be better when she sees you.”
“I doubt that.”
“Don’t doubt anything I tell you.”
“Did Iulius suggest you come? I can’t imagine you coming of your own volition.” She hugged the shawl around her and went to the wall.
“Iulius has convinced me Mother misses you.”
“Misses me?” she said with a harsh laugh. “She doesn’t even know me. She sat in that throne he’s made for her, drooling and making these horrible noises. I couldn’t bear to see her like that.”
“You might try thinking about how Mother feels and what she needs, instead of always thinking of yourself.”
“In her place, I’d want someone to give me a drink of hemlock and end my misery!”
Marcus’ dark gaze moved over her thin body and back up to her hollowed eyes. “Would you?”
She drew in her breath at what she saw so clearly in his face. She was sick and dying, and he did not care in the least. In fact, she was left in no doubt that he wished her dead. She fought against the tears that burned her eyes. “I never knew you could be so cold and cruel, Marcus.”
“I’d have to go a long way to catch up with you.” He walked to the wall and rested his arm on it. Glancing at her, his mouth tipped sardonically. “What happened to Calabah and Primus?”
Tilting her head back, she pretended to enjoy the soft breeze. “They left,” she said as though it didn’t matter.
“How deeply in debt did they leave you?”
“You needn’t concern yourself on my behalf,” she said airily. He was enjoying her utter humiliation.
“I’m not concerned,” he said, looking out at the harbor. “Just curious.”
Her hands tightened, steadying herself. “I still have this villa.”
“Encumbered with debt, no doubt.”
Each word he uttered was a barb. “Yes,” she said flatly. “Are you satisfied?”
“It makes things simpler.” Marcus straightened. “I’ll have your things removed and settle your debts.”
Surprised, she looked at him, hoping he had softened toward her after all. His eyes were hard.
“Mother will be relieved to have you under her roof again,” he drawled.
Chilled by his expression, she rebelled. “I’d rather remain here.”
“I don’t care what you’d rather do. Iulius said Mother’s mind will be eased if you’re there. And so you shall be.”
“What good am I to her? I’m sick, though you obviously don’t care.”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
“I’m dying. Do you care now?”
Marcus’ eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Julia looked away from his hard face and clutched the wall with white fingers. “She has you. She doesn’t need me.”
“She loves both of us, God only knows why.”
She glared at him through her tears. “And if I say I won’t go?”
“Say no all you want. I don’t care. Scream. Rant and rave. Cry. It won’t change anything. You have no husband anymore, do you? No father, either. That leaves me with full legal right over you. You won’t walk over me the way you’ve walked over others. Like it or not, I’ll see you do whatever I decide. And, for now, I’ve decided to have you brought home.”
Marcus stepped away from the wall. “I’ll send someone to pack whatever things you have left and I’ll see you have servants to see to your needs.” He strode across the balcony.
“I’ve servants of my own,” she called after him.
Marcus stopped and glared back at her, his face white with anger. “I won’t have Primus’ catamite under my roof,” he said between his teeth. “You’ve always been good at dispensing with servants. Dispense with him. Sell him. Give him away. Free him. I don’t care what you do, but don’t bring him with you. Do you understand? And as for the other—”
“I want Azar. I need her.”
“You’ll have a servant younger and better able to dash to your beck and call.”
Fear filled Julia. The thought of being without Azar’s tender mercy was unbearable. “I need her, Marcus. Please.”
“You’ve always needed a lot, haven’t you, Julia? I’ll see you have all you need.” He turned away, striding toward the door.
“I’ll beg if you want. Only don’t send her away!”
Marcus kept walking.
“Marcus! Please!”
Marcus yanked the door and slammed it behind him. He had heard Julia cry too many times before to be softened by her tearful appeal now.
The veiled woman was standing beneath an arch overlooking the peristyle. He crossed over to her and told her briskly of his decision. “Consider yourself free to go wherever you choose,” he said. He took a step away, eager to leave and have done with all this.
“I choose to stay with Lady Julia.”
Marcus glanced at her in surprise. Perhaps it was another matter that held her. “If there’s a problem with money, I’ll see you have enough to sustain you for the rest of your life.”
“It’s not a matter of money, my lord. I’m a woman of independent means.”
That surprised him. “Then what reason have you to remain with her?”
“I gave her my word.”
“She doesn’t keep hers.”
“I keep mine.”
It was the simplest of answers, and the last one he wanted to hear. “Do as you like,” he said angrily and strode down the hall.
Hadassah stared after him. She put her hand over her racing heart and felt she could breathe again. He had appeared so unexpectedly on the front step. Had he sent a message ahead, perhaps she could have prepared herself. And she could’ve prepared Julia. The thought of being under the same roof with him again filled her with joy and pain.
She went to the door and opened it. Julia was lying on her sleeping couch, weeping. She sat up and held her arms out like a child desperately in need of comfort. “Don’t let him send you away. Please!”
Hadassah sat down beside her and held her close. “I’m here.”
“Don’t leave me,” Julia wept. “I’ll die if you leave me.”
“I won’t leave you, my lady.” Sh
e stroked her hair. “I’ll never leave you.”
“He hates me. He hates me so much.”
Hadassah knew she was right; she had felt it emanate from him the moment he stepped into Julia’s bedchamber. She had seen the dark sheen of it in his eyes. “Why does he hate you?” What could possibly have happened to turn Marcus’ heart against a sister he had so dearly loved?
Julia closed her eyes, mouth quivering. She drew back, scrubbing at the tears. “I don’t want to talk about it. It was all so long ago, you’d think he’d have forgotten by now.” She sniffed, tears still coming. She looked up at Azar. “He said I’m to get rid of Prometheus.”
Hadassah went cold. “What do you mean, ‘get rid of him’?”
“Sell him, do whatever I please. But Prometheus has been kind to me. I don’t want to do anything to him. My brother despises him because he was Primus’ catamite. Marcus hated Primus. He hated Calabah. And he hates me the same way he hated them.”
Hadassah took her hand. “My lady,” she said gently, wanting to draw Julia’s attention away from herself, “the Lord has given you an opportunity to perform an act of kindness.”
Calming slightly, Julia looked at her tearfully. “How?”
“You can free Prometheus.”
She thought about it for a moment and frowned. “He’s worth a lot of money.”
“You’ll have no need of money now that your brother is settling your debts and you’re returning home.”
The way Azar said it, the situation sounded hopeful rather than the last of numerous disasters. Julia chewed on her lip. “I don’t know. Marcus probably wouldn’t like it.” She gave a grim laugh. “But then, why should I care what he thinks when he so obviously doesn’t care about me.” She looked at Azar, her eyes glittering. “I’ll do it. I will free Prometheus.”
“Free Prometheus out of gratitude for the kindness he’s shown you during your illness, my lady, not to spite your brother. Otherwise there is no blessing for you.”
Julia’s expression fell. “You’re displeased with me.”
“Set your own feelings aside and do what is right.”
Julia was very quiet for a moment. “I don’t know what’s right. Maybe I never knew.” She looked at Azar and felt the warmth of her spirit. “But I will do as you suggest.”
40
Marcus’ servants arrived a few hours after his departure. Julia spent the afternoon writing out a proper document of manumission for Prometheus. She presented the scroll to him as soon as he returned from what work he had found in the city. It was a moment before he realized what she had given him. “My lady,” he said, overcome.
Julia’s smile trembled. “You have been a good and faithful servant, Prometheus. I wish you well.” She extended her hand. He took it and kissed it fervently. She had never felt so light of heart. “Go in peace.”
Julia saw Azar waiting for him just outside the door. Prometheus seemed about to embrace her but drew back, a glance flickering in her direction. He said something too soft for her to hear and left. Julia sat down weakly on her sleeping couch.
Azar came and sat beside her.
“I did it.”
“Yes, you did.” Azar put her hand over hers. “How do you feel now?”
“Wonderful.”
“You’ve done a good thing, my lady. The Lord has seen what you’ve done.”
“It’s strange,” Julia said, bemused. She gave a soft laugh. “I can’t remember ever feeling so happy.”
“It’s more blessed to give than to receive.”
She shook her head. “Then I guess I’d better enjoy the feeling for the little while it lasts because I haven’t anything to give anymore. It’s all been taken away.”
“You have a great deal more to give than you realize.” She wanted to say more, but one of Marcus’ servants came out to them.
“We are almost finished packing, my lady,” he said to Julia. “A litter has been arranged for you, and a room has been prepared for your arrival.”
Her hand grasped Hadassah’s. “Azar is to come with me.”
“The litter is only large enough for one.”
“Then get another!”
“I’m sorry, my lady, but—”
“Never mind,” Hadassah said. “It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right! This is just another way for Marcus to punish me. He wants to keep me from having you.”
At Hadassah’s gesture, the servant left. She turned to her mistress. “I will follow you, my lady. Go and don’t worry.”
“You promise?” Julia said, eyes wide.
“I already have. Be reassured.” She put her arms around Julia and held her for a moment. “I will not be far behind.”
As soon as Julia was on her way, Hadassah went to the small alcove in the peristyle where Prometheus said he would wait for her. He rose as she approached.
“I know this is your doing,” he said, the sealed document clutched in his hand.
“It’s the Lord’s doing.”
“I’ve dreamed of having my freedom,” he said, sitting down with her, “but now, I’m not certain. I want to be where you are.”
“That’s not possible, Prometheus. Lord Marcus gave strict instructions.”
“Oh,” Prometheus said, expression falling. “I understand.”
“The Lord has given you this opportunity, Prometheus.” She removed a pouch from the folds of her sash. She took one of his hands and placed it on his palm. “A gift to help you start your new life,” she said, closing his hand around the small purse of gold coins. She gave him instructions on where to find the apostle John. “Confess your past sins and your present struggle. He will instruct you in all the ways of the Lord.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Oh, I am very sure. John will love you as God loves you. Go to him, Prometheus. If you can’t yet fashion your life after Jesus, fashion it after a man who walked with the Lord while he was on this earth. Observe how he continues to do so.”
“I will go,” Prometheus said, “but what of you?”
“I’ll remain with Lady Julia as long as she lives.”
“I am grateful to her for my freedom, my lady, but this was one isolated act of kindness after a long list of cruelties. A whim, not a change of character. If she ever finds out who you really are, I’m afraid to think what she’ll do to you.”
“What real danger do I face, Prometheus? My soul belongs to God. Renew your mind and remember what you have learned. Nothing can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus.” She touched his face tenderly. “And nothing can separate us who are of the family of God.”
He put his hand over hers. “I wish you were coming with me.”
She lowered her hand to her lap. “I am where I must be.” She rose slowly. “I must go to Lady Julia.” She limped toward the antechamber. Prometheus went with her, measuring his steps to hers. She looked up at him as she limped toward the door. “Will you remain here until the villa is sold?”
“Yes. What about your things?” he said, seeking any way he could to delay her departure.
“They were packed and sent along with Julia’s. I’ve nothing left to carry but this walking stick.” She saw his deep concern and tried to reassure him. “It’s not a far distance, Prometheus. I’ll manage very well.”
“When will I ever see you again?”
“I’ll attend meetings whenever possible. We’ll see one another there.”
He was afraid of the separation. “It’s not enough. You’ve kept me accountable,” he said, and she knew to what he referred.
“Solomon said, ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.‘”
“I’ll try to remember.”
“Don’t try. Say it over and over to yourself until it’s engraved upon your heart. And remember this as well.” She recited the song of the shepherd. “Say it to me.” She repeated it
with him until he had it memorized. “Say it over morning, noon, and night, and lay it upon your mind as a pattern for thinking.”
She opened the door and went out. Prometheus gave her support as she went down the steps. When they reached the gate, he opened it for her. She paused and looked up at him. “Do you know what happened to make Lord Marcus hate his sister so much?”
“No,” he said. “I was too caught up in my own misery to notice anyone else’s. Besides that, it wasn’t long after you were sent to the arena that I ran away.”
Hadassah sighed. “I wish I knew what happened between them.”
“Perhaps it was you.”
She glanced back at him in surprise. “Why would you think that?”
“He was in love with you, wasn’t he?”
She was deeply saddened by his words, for they roused poignant memories. Had Marcus ever truly loved her? “I think I was merely different from the women he had known. A challenge of sorts. But I don’t think he ever loved me in a way that would have lasted.” Had he loved her, wouldn’t he have listened to her words about the Lord?
She remembered Marcus’ declaration of love in Julia’s bedchamber. She remembered his anger when she had refused to marry him. She had wounded his pride, not his heart. And because of it, he had cursed her and left. She had never seen him again until the day he bumped into her outside the public baths. She had never thought to see him again after that, and now she was to live under his roof. She was filled with trepidation—and a disturbing excitement. Marcus might never have truly loved her, but she was still in love with him.
“Primus thought Marcus Valerian loved you,” Prometheus said. “He used to taunt Lady Julia about it. He’d say Lord Marcus came to see a slave rather than his own sister.”
“That wasn’t true. He was absolutely devoted to Julia. Marcus always loved his sister. He adored her.”
“He doesn’t love her anymore.”
She was silent, wondering. “Perhaps he will again.” She reached out and touched Prometheus’ arm. “You’ll be in my prayers each day. Stand firm in the Lord.”
“I will.”
“He will protect you.” Stretching up, she embraced him. “You are my dear brother, Prometheus. I love you very much.”