A Stray Drop of Blood (34 page)

A glance outside at the angle of the sun told her that Dinah would be in soon to urge some broth past Ester’s lips. She did not feel like speaking to her friend, hearing yet another reprimand about how she needed to rest more, eat more, preserve the Visibullis child in her womb. Abigail lived only for the babe, but she was tired of the constant hovering. She stood, intending to escape.

A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she gripped the door post. So many images swam before her eyes. Jason, in the last moments she ever saw him, armed in his centurion’s garb with a sober expression on his face. The shattering in Ester’s eyes as she heard that the two most precious beings in the world to her had been slain. Titus, standing there so cold and unfeeling while he delivered the news that ripped them apart.

Raw emotion bubbled up and nearly choked her. She should not be so angry with him for being the one to tell her. She knew that. But still it boiled within her.

“
Abigail?”

She opened her eyes again at the familiar voice and blinked at Andrew. Part of her wanted to feel the warmth of friendship when she looked at him, perhaps even love. But the bigger part wanted to look away. Seeing him reminded her only of her guilt.

He sighed. “You need to rest.”

Everyone seemed to think resting would solve everything. No one stopped to consider the demons that haunted her sleep.

~*~

Andrew watched Abigail wobble and did not hesitate. He scooped her up in his arms, then carried her to the room where Jason’s presence was still so palpable. She had not removed any of his things, and Andrew had to stifle the desire to scream when he entered. Controlling the urge, he put her gently on the bed. “You must rest, dear one. You have the babe to think of. It will not be long now before your child is born, and you are in no condition to go through a birth.”

“
I cannot think of that right now.” Her features were sunken, her frame shrunken so that her large stomach stood out and made her look fragile beneath it. “Andrew, how did this happen? How, in a single night, did the entire fabric of our universe unravel?” Her eyes were staring straight up at the ceiling as she spoke. Then she squeezed them shut and lifted a hand to rub at them. “I cannot believe they are gone.”

Andrew beheld her silently for a moment, sitting beside her. “Did you come to love him so much, Abigail?”

“
No.” Her voice was choked. “And that is wormwood to me. I wanted to love him. He had changed so, turned into such a good man, Andrew. He loved me very much, and he did so much to earn my affections.” She shook her head, looking miserable. “If we had had more time–perhaps he would have overcome my last reserve.”

That was not what he wanted to hear. He took her hand in one of his and ran the knuckles of the other softly over her cheek. “Abigail, I must know: do you still love me?”

She looked at him at last. He searched her eyes for the Abigail he knew, the Abigail full of life and intelligence and wonder. In her place, he saw a woman with no hope, no feeling, no desires at all. But then she smiled at him, and though it was but an echo as from afar off, he saw a sparkle of his old Abigail there. It was enough for him. “I will always love you, Andrew. How can you ask?”

“
These past months we have lived separate lives. You are a mistress now, a wife, now a widow. I am still a slave.”

“
You are still my friend.”

He lifted her hand to his lips. “I wish I had the right to ask you to be mine, dear one. But it is surely not possible now. You cannot marry a slave when you are mother to the heir to the Visibullis wealth.”

“
If it is a girl, then this physician cousin will gain it all, anyway.” Her eyes moved to his once more, and she squeezed his hand. “Let us see, Andrew. My mourning has many days left, and I need them. Perhaps. . . .”

“
Yes, perhaps.” Andrew smiled sincerely for the first time since he was told of her impending wedding.

~*~

Menelaus walked into the barracks where the centurions resided, scanning the selection of men until he found the one he wanted. He approached Titus with squared shoulders. It seemed as though they had nothing in common now that Jason was gone. Lentulus and Apidius had made no attempt to spend time with them. It was as though, even when not around them much, Jason had been the element that bound them together.

To Menelaus, it felt like an affront to his friend’s memory to tolerate the distance between those of them remaining. Still, he suspected it was hopeless. Titus would be leaving in a fortnight, heading back to Rome. Apidius would be transferred to Corinth within six months. A chapter of his life was over permanently, and he had a feeling those to follow would never be as carefree as this past one.

“
Titus.”

The man looked up, his expression softening slightly. “Menelaus.”

“
I am going to offer my condolences to Abigail and Ester. I did not want to go too soon, but I have heard that Ester is ill.”

Titus nodded. “Tell Abigail about the crucifixion.”

Menelaus nearly growled. “Tell her yourself. You are coming with me. Apidius and Lentulus refused, and it is shameful. We were his friends, and we have shown no respect.”

Titus did not even look up. “I put in an appearance at the burial. But it is a bit hard to go and talk to someone about how nicely the weather is warming up when the last time one spoke to said person was in telling her that her husband is dead.”

“
Jason would expect it.”

Titus cursed and threw down the piece of leather he had been working. “Jason would understand. It was his greatest virtue. He never pushed points.”

“
Of course he did! He manipulated you more than anyone, Titus. In the name of Jove, he was getting paid by your father.”

“
You think I do not know that?” Titus spread his palms flat against the table. “You think I do not realize my father thought of Jason as the perfect son? I need no reminders of his charms. Just as I do not need you to tell me what he would expect of me. I have gone to the authorities to make sure the house would not be taken away from them.
That
is what he asked me to see to.”

Menelaus pointed a finger.“No, he asked you to be sure they were taken care of, and that includes more than the roof over their heads. Ester could be dying. Will you live with the guilt if she dies, and you have done nothing to be sure she was getting the proper care?”

Titus cursed again, but this time it rang with defeat. He stood. “Let us go.” He pushed past Menelaus and stomped from the room. The others smartly moved out of his way, and Menelaus followed in his wake.

Outside, they discovered quickly that the streets leading from the northern gate were not sympathetic to their plan. They were clogged with people, townspeople who usually moved far out of their way to avoid the Roman soldiers. Today, they ignored their existence.

“
Are those palm branches?” Menelaus looked in disbelief at the street over a woman’s shoulder. “What, is there some prince visiting today that we have not heard of?”

“
It is Messiah!” a woman proclaimed as if in answer to his question, pointing in the distance at a point he could not make out. “Hosanna! Hosanna! Blessed be the name of the Lord! Hosanna!”

She was not the only one calling out, shouting with joy at the approach of whomever it was they called Messiah.

“
Jesus!” another cried nearby.

Menelaus rolled his eyes. “Not him again. Come, let us take the alley.”

Titus made no argument. They bypassed the congestion and made their way silently to the house. From the outside, it looked as it always had. But he approached it with the knowledge that within it had become a tomb.

Their knock was answered by the old manservant, who let them in without erasing the concern from his face. “My mistress is unwell and unable to receive visitors. But if you care to sit down, I will fetch Abigail.”

Menelaus took the lead with a nod. “Please. How is Ester? The governor mentioned his concerns for her.”

He hesitated. “She grows worse, then improves, only to grow worse again. From one hour to the next, we do not know how she will be. But Mistress Julia has been a most faithful friend, coming every afternoon to sit with her and give Abigail a chance to rest.”

“
The general is fortunate to have such a wife,” Menelaus said absently. He had had few causes to interact with Julia.

They were shown into the room where ten months before they had come to dine with Jason. He looked around at where the five of them had sat, where Abigail had served them, dressed in the beautiful garments Jason had bought. Tempting them all, astonishing them all with her conversation. He should have realized then that it was more than a simple affair for Jason. His looks had mixed lust with pride with respect; and that last ingredient guaranteed involvement.

Agitated, he and Titus sat down. Hopefully Abigail would arrive soon so that they could say what needed to be said and leave. Menelaus folded one leg over his knee, then drummed his fingers on it. Titus glared at him and sat completely still, arms crossed over his chest in a way that clearly labeled his reticence.

His attention was snagged when a blur of movement entered the room from the far door, skidding to a halt a few feet within to reveal a boy with eyes wide in shock at their presence.

Menelaus leaned forward with a crooked smile. “Hello, boy. Who are you?”

“
Samuel.” His voice was not meek, but he advanced no further into the room.

Menelaus’s smile grew a bit. “And where did you come from?”

“
The tribe of Judah,” the boy answered.

Menelaus glanced over at his companion. Titus was looking at the child with a complete lack of humor. It was obvious he had no desire to participate in the inquisition. Menelaus turned back to the child. “Are you a servant here?”

Samuel nodded, sending curls scattering momentarily, then coming to rest in the exact places they had been. “I serve my mistress, Abigail. She is having a baby. My master Jason bought me, but then he went away. It made me sad because he was kind and brought me here, and now my mistress does not smile.” His golden brows drew together. “That is very sad. She smiles very nicely.”

“
Samuel.” Abigail’s voice came from the other entrance. She was smiling now, or at least hinting at it. She held out a hand, and Samuel rushed to close the distance between them. He attached himself to her side.

Abigail turned her attention to Menelaus and Titus only when Samuel was with her. “I am sorry Ester is not able to receive you. She is finally sleeping peacefully, and I could not disturb her, though she would certainly be glad to know you have come.”

Menelaus decided to ignore the ice in her voice. “We heard she was ill. Is there anything we can do? We could send over the Roman physician–”

Abigail raised a hand to halt his offer. “The general already offered, and the physician has come and gone. There is nothing he can do; he says the illness comes from her desire for it and will not leave until she wills it. We have sent for Cleopas’s cousin, who is also a physician, in the hopes that a familiar face will stir her. He should be here in a week.”

Menelaus could only nod. Titus unfolded his arms, his face still expressionless, impassable. “I hope she recovers. Have you heard the news of Barabbas?”

Abigail shook her head, eyes going sharp. “The general will not speak of such things to Julia, and she is the only one who has come recently.”

Titus looked proud when he said, “He will be crucified. The last day of next week, during your Passover. The general thought it–appropriate.”

“
And Titus gets to stand and watch him die from beneath the cross.” All kinds of envy sprang up in Menelaus at the reminder. “As his last official duty before heading back to Rome. He receives all the blessings.”

He expected her to pale at the mention of such a thirst for blood, but she did not. She simply nodded and said, “May your return to Rome be safe, Titus. Menelaus, you will of course always be welcome here. Jason always named you as his closest friend.”

Menelaus darted a glance at Titus to see if the words, obviously meant to prick him, had any effect. There was none to be seen, of course, but he still wondered if she simply held a grudge against his friend for being the bearer of the evil news. If not, she should have disliked him just as much; he had been as much her enemy as Titus.

Abigail was apparently thinking the same thing, for she continued, “Which is why it grieved him so much, at the end, that you withdrew from him to the extent that you did.” She drew herself up. “If there is nothing else, I should return to my mother. Thank you for coming.”

He stood, not really wanting to stay, but offended nonetheless at the dismissal.

Titus must have agreed. With his most Stoic mask in place, he rose to his feet. “Abigail. Why did Jason buy the boy?”

Abigail stopped in her retreat from the room, spun, and speared him with her gaze. “Because Samuel needed a home, and Jason was a good man. Why would
you
buy a boy?”

Titus did not so much as look down at the child who still stood protected in the folds of Abigail’s garment. “I would not.”