Page 53 of A Voice in the Wind


  “I’ll add a thousand sesterces to my offer,” the man said quickly.

  “Ten thousand and he might consider it,” Sertes said contemptuously. “You will excuse us.” He turned Atretes away and leaned close, speaking softly. “I can handle these negotiations for you if you wish. There’s no reason for you to be here. I’m experienced in business dealings and know how to make them raise their offers. My fee will be a meager 35 percent of what you make. Everything will be presented to you for final decision, of course. I’ll make you a very rich man.”

  Atretes clamped a hard hand on Sertes’ arm. “I want a villa of my own.”

  Sertes nodded. “Whatever you want, you’ve only to say. I’ll arrange it.” He would milk Atretes’ fame for as long as it lasted.

  A servant entered the room and made his way to Sertes. “That little Jewess is here, my lord. She said she has a message for Atretes.”

  “Take me to her,” Atretes ordered, ignoring the protests of the men who had waited hours to see him.

  Sertes raised his hands. “Enough! Atretes has more important matters at hand. Prepare your proposals and make your offers to me. I will discuss them with Atretes at his convenience and notify you of his decision. That will be all!” He nodded to one of the burly guards. “Get them out of here. I have a ludus to run.”

  Atretes saw Hadassah waiting just inside the closed gate of the ludus. “Leave me,” he said to the servant and strode across the sandy compound toward her.

  Her face filled with warmth when she saw him. She smiled and bowed low. “Praise God for his bountiful mercy,” she said. “You are alive and well!”

  He smiled down at her, remembering the night in the stadium and her promise to pray for him. Her kindness filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. Had it been prayers to her god that had kept him alive? “Yes, I am alive and well. I am also free,” he said. “You’ve brought word from Julia?”

  Her demeanor changed subtly. She lowered her eyes from his immediately and delivered the message. Atretes listened, and each word burned his pride. A muscle locked and then worked in his jaw.

  “Must?” he said coldly. “Tell your lady it will not be as before. I will send for her when I am ready.” He turned away and headed back for the barracks.

  “Atretes,” Hadassah said hastening after him. “Please. Don’t turn from her now.”

  He glared down at her. “Remind your lady that I’m no longer a slave to be summoned at her whim and for her pleasure.”

  She looked up at him beseechingly. “She loves you, my lord. She means no offense.”

  “Ah, but it’s the Roman way to give offense! And she is Roman, isn’t she? Born and bred upon pride and arrogance.”

  Hadassah laid her hand gently on his arm and smiled sadly. “Pride and arrogance are not limited to Romans, Atretes.”

  Surprisingly, his fierce anger evaporated. His hard mouth softened into a half smile and he gave a bleak laugh. “Perhaps not,” he said ruefully. She was a strange little woman with fathomless eyes that were so gentle they had the effect of a calm sea.

  “Speak with her gently, Atretes, and she will do whatever you ask.” Hadassah knew this was the truth. A gentle, loving word from Atretes, and Julia would even turn away from the terrible path she was now following.

  “I vowed never to be summoned by her again,” he said flatly. “And I hold to that vow.” He nodded toward the high walls of the ludus and said, “Nor would I dishonor her by summoning her here.” He looked down at Hadassah. “Tell your mistress I’ll send for her when I have a house and can take her into it as my wife.” So saying, he strode away.

  Hadassah turned away sadly, seeing only tragedy ahead for them both.

  “Where is he?” Julia demanded when Hadassah returned to Primus’ villa alone. “Didn’t you tell him I wanted to see him? You didn’t, did you? What did you tell him?”

  “I gave him your message, my lady, exactly as you said.”

  Julia slapped her. “You deceitful little Jew. You told him about Primus, didn’t you?” She slapped her again, harder.

  Hadassah drew back from her, afraid. She put a trembling hand to her stinging cheek. “I didn’t, my lady.”

  “If you said nothing to him about Primus, he would be here!”

  “He said he would send for you when he had a house and could take you into it as his wife.”

  Julia went still, her face blanching. She stared at Hadassah, then sank down onto her couch, suddenly unable to stand. She closed her eyes. She’d known what to expect, but somehow hearing he had said it so openly made her weak inside, weak with confusion and longing.

  Hadassah knelt before her. “Please, Lady Julia. Return to the house of your father and mother and remain there until Atretes sends for you.”

  Julia felt a moment of uncertainty—but then Calabah’s warnings rose in her mind, clear and logical. If she married Atretes, he would take her into his house and never let her out again. He would be worse than Claudius and Caius put together.

  “No.”

  “Please,” Hadassah pleaded softly. “Don’t stay here.”

  The momentary confusion on Julia’s face cleared. “If I go back now, I’ll look like a fool. And nothing would change. Marcus wouldn’t approve of my relationship with Atretes any more than he approves of this one with Primus.” She gave a weak laugh. “Atretes might be proclaimed a Roman citizen, but he’s still a barbarian at heart. Marcus might not even allow me to see him.”

  “Marcus wants you to be safe and happy.”

  Julia raised her brow at the familiar way Hadassah said her brother’s name. She glared down at her for a long, still moment as the deep seed of jealousy, planted by Marcus himself, began to grow. “You only want to be close to my brother, don’t you?” she said coldly. “You’re just like Bithia and all the rest.” She rose and moved away. “No, I won’t listen to you. I’m staying right here. Once I’ve spoken with Atretes, he’ll understand. I’ll make him understand.”

  She would remind him of how he had hated his slavery and demand if that was what he expected of her now. A wife was a slave, someone at the mercy of her husband. This way, they were both free. Nothing had to change between them. They would continue to be lovers just as before. It would be even better. She wouldn’t have to pay Sertes. Atretes could come whenever she sent him a message. But even if all her reasoning didn’t work, she knew one thing that would make him listen.

  She would tell him about the child she was carrying.

  Hadassah went to John and wept over Julia.

  The apostle listened and then took her hands between his own. “Perhaps God has given Julia over to the lusts of her heart so that she may receive in her own person the due penalty of her errors.”

  Hadassah looked at him, her cheeks streaked with tears. “I’ve spent hours singing psalms to her and telling her stories of David and Gideon, Jonah, and Elijah. So many stories, but never once the greatest story of all. When I’m with Julia, the name of Jesus freezes in my throat.” She took her hands from him and covered her face.

  John understood. “We all know fear at some time, Hadassah.”

  “You’re not afraid anymore, though. And my father was never afraid.” She remembered her father being carried into the upper room by Benaiah, his beloved face beaten almost beyond recognition. And still he had gone out again and again and again, until the last day of his life. They’re throwing bodies over the wall into the Valley of Hinnom, Mark had said the day he was killed, and in Hadassah’s mind, she could see her father lying there among the thousands of dead cast over the temple wall and left rotting in the Judean sun.

  “As I have told you, I have known fear well,” John said. “When they came and took the Lord away from the Garden of Gethsemane, a Roman soldier grabbed for me, and I ran. He was left holding a linen sheet, which was the only thing covering my body, while I escaped, naked.” His kind eyes were shadowed with remembered shame. “But fear is not of the Lord, Hadassah.”

/>   “I know that in my mind, but still my heart trembles.”

  “Lay your burden before Jesus.”

  “But what if your burden is not only fear, but love? I have a love for Julia as though she were my own sister.”

  His eyes filled with compassion. “We sow in tears that we might harvest in joy. Be obedient to the Lord’s will. Love Julia despite what she does, that through you she might come to know Christ’s surpassing grace and mercy. Be faithful, that she and the others might be sanctified.”

  “But will they be sanctified if they refuse to believe? And what do I do about Calabah?”

  “Nothing.”

  “But John, she exerts greater and greater control over Julia. It’s as though Julia is being transformed into her likeness. I have to do something.”

  John shook his head. “No, Hadassah. Our struggle isn’t against flesh and blood, but against the powers of darkness.”

  “I can’t fight Satan, John. My faith isn’t strong enough.”

  “You don’t fight him. Resist evil and be strong in the Lord, Hadassah, and in the strength of God’s might. He’s given you armor for the battle. Truth, his righteousness, the gospel of peace. Faith is your shield, the Word your sword. Pray with perseverance in the Spirit of the Lord. Then stand firm, that the Lord might go out before you.”

  “I’ll try,” she said softly.

  John took her hands and held them firmly, his warmth and strength surrounding her. “God doesn’t fail in his good purpose. Trust in him, and in his time he’ll open your mouth and give you the words to speak.” He smiled. “You are not alone!”

  Reclined on one of the couches in the triclinium, Julia selected a delicacy prepared by her new cook. Primus was telling her another of his ribald stories, this one about a Roman official and his unfaithful wife. She’d learned very quickly that she had an insatiable appetite for his stories, an appetite Primus was only too willing to satisfy.

  “I know who you’re talking about, Primus,” she said. “Vitellius. Am I right?”

  He raised his goblet in salute to her shrewdness, smiling at Prometheus, who was leaning against him. “You know I never break a confidence,” he said drolly.

  “You can call him by whatever name you like, but you imitate his lisp so well, it leaves me in no doubt whatsoever. Vitellius it is. Fat, pompous, lisping Vitellius.”

  “He’ll never trust me with another secret,” Primus said ruefully, then frowned in annoyance as Hadassah entered the triclinium with another tray. Prometheus stiffened slightly and drew away from Primus, who gave an irritated sigh. “Set the tray there and leave us,” he ordered tersely and glanced at Julia. “Tell her, Julia.” She nodded, and Hadassah silently went from the room. “I don’t like her,” Primus said, glaring toward the empty doorway.

  “Why not?” Julia said, selecting a honeyed hummingbird tongue from the platter.

  “Because every time she enters the room, Prometheus becomes agitated. Why don’t you sell her?”

  “Because she pleases me,” Julia said and poured herself more wine. “She sings and tells stories.”

  “I’ve heard some and I don’t like them, either. In case you hadn’t heard, Calabah has a healthy dislike for your slave, also.”

  “She’s told me.” Julia gave him an impatient look and sipped her wine. She knew she was getting drunk, but she didn’t care. It was better than suffering from depression. She’d had no word from Atretes or Marcus or her mother. Everyone had deserted her. She saw Prometheus’ eyes flickering nervously toward the archway and felt a malicious satisfaction.

  A servant entered. “My lady, your brother is here to see you.”

  She sat up, spilling wine on her new green palus. She set the silver goblet down hurriedly and put her hand against her swimming head. “Bring him to me,” she said and pressed cold hands to her warm face. “Do I look all right?” she asked Primus.

  “As lovely as a sea nymph rising from the foam.”

  Marcus entered the room and seemed to fill it with his presence. He was so handsome, she swelled with pride looking at him.

  “Marcus,” she said and held out her hands to him.

  He took her hands and kissed her cheek. “Little sister,” he said affectionately. Then he straightened and glanced at Primus. “I wish to speak to my sister alone.”

  Primus’ brows rose mockingly. “You forget where you are, Marcus. This is my villa, not yours.”

  “Leave, Primus,” Julia said testily. “I haven’t seen my brother in weeks.”

  “And we know why, don’t we?” he said, watching Marcus’ face as he took Prometheus’ hand. “Come, Prometheus. We’ll leave these two to talk over their differences.”

  Marcus glared after him. “How you can sit and see how he acts with that boy is beyond me, Julia.”

  Defensive, she retaliated. “Perhaps I’m more tolerant of others. And who are you to judge Primus? I saw you more than once with Bithia.”

  “There’s a vast difference.”

  “Indeed there is. Primus is more faithful to Prometheus than you ever were to Arria or Fannia or a dozen others I could name. Besides,” she said airily, sitting down again, “I find Primus extremely sensitive. He was rude because you’ve hurt his feelings.” She reached for her wine again, feeling in need of it.

  “No doubt he gives you your way in everything. You are paying all the bills, aren’t you?”

  “And what if I am? It’s my money to do with as I like. I chose this villa, by the way. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? And in the most affluent section of the city. I chose the furnishings, too. That’s more than I’ve ever had to say about anything in my life.”

  Marcus knew he had to quiet his temper. “You’re happy living this way?”

  “Yes. I’m happy! Happier than I was with a repulsive old man obsessed with his studies or a handsome young man who was cruel beyond words. Caius would’ve run through all my money with his gambling if he hadn’t died.” Her voice cracked and she quickly drank more wine. Her hand was trembling, and she took a breath to calm herself. “Primus asks for very little, Marcus,” she said more quietly. “He’s no threat to me. He listens to my problems and encourages me to do whatever will make me happy. Besides, he makes me laugh.”

  “I’d be careful what I told him, little sister. Primus has a very cutting wit, and he collects rumors like a dog collects fleas. It doesn’t take much to get him scratching and spreading everything. His penchant for gossip is what’s kept him in money for years. People pay him not to talk.”

  She stretched out on the couch again. “Sit down and have something to eat, Marcus.” She waved an elegant hand over the laden trays. “It may improve your disposition.”

  Marcus noted she was wearing several new rings, and the platters of food displayed an expensive array of delicacies. He made no comment. What was the use? Perhaps it was the rich food that accounted for her thickened waist, but he doubted it. He was fairly sure she was pregnant again, and he knew by whom.

  “Primus isn’t in a position to hurt me, is he?” she said, smiling cynically. “But if you’re worried, I’ll ask him to overlook your deplorable behavior.”

  “Don’t ask him to overlook anything!”

  “Why did you come?” she said wearily, and her mask of haughty disdain slipped enough for him to see his vulnerable little sister beneath it.

  He sighed heavily and came to her. “Julia,” he said gently and took her wine goblet from her, setting it aside. “I didn’t come to argue with you.”

  “It’s Father,” she said, her eyes flickering with fear. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “No.”

  Her body relaxed. “Did Mother tell him why I left?”

  “She said you were visiting friends. He seems content with the letters she reads to him.”

  “What letters?”

  Marcus looked at her in surprise for a moment, then let out a soft breath of comprehension. Poor Mother. “Apparently, the ones she writes in your name.”
/>
  Julia got up and moved away from him, wanting to escape her guilt.

  “We had a visitor this morning,” Marcus said. “A guard who had been instructed to bring you safely to Atretes.”

  Julia swung around and stared at him. “Atretes sent for me?” She came back to him and clutched his hands. “Oh, Marcus. Where is he? You didn’t send him away, did you? If you did, I’ll kill myself. I swear it.” Her eyes welled with tears.

  Marcus could feel her trembling. “I told him you were away and asked where his master could be reached when you returned.”

  She let go of him and began to pace nervously. “I didn’t know what happened or where he went. You can’t imagine how unhappy I’ve been. I love him so much, Marcus, but when I sent for him, he refused to come to me.”

  “How long have you been involved with this gladiator?”

  She stopped and tipped her chin. “I don’t like the way you say gladiator. Atretes is a free man now and a Roman citizen.”

  “How long, Julia?”

  “Six months,” she said finally and saw his gaze move slowly down over her body.

  “So, it’s his child you’re carrying.”

  Julia blushed and covered her abdomen defensively. “Yes.”

  “Does he know?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve had no opportunity to tell him.”

  “Obviously he doesn’t know about your marriage to Primus, either, or he wouldn’t have sent his guard to me to have you brought to him.”

  “I planned to tell him about all this weeks ago, but I didn’t know where he was!”

  “With very little effort, you could’ve found out. How are you going to explain Primus to him? Julia, I spoke to his guard. Atretes bought an estate a few miles outside Ephesus. He expects to marry you.”

  She kept her face averted, and Marcus stood and went to her. He turned her around to face him and saw she was crying. “You don’t betray someone like Atretes,” he said softly.

  “I haven’t betrayed him!” she cried, shaking free. “You don’t think I’d sleep with Primus, do you? I don’t! I don’t sleep with anyone.”