A Voice in the Wind (26 page)

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Authors: Francine Rivers

BOOK: A Voice in the Wind
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“How do you fare with your husband?” Marcus asked with a teasing smile.

“Quite well,” Julia said with a sly smile. “Sometimes we walk in the gardens, sometimes we talk.” She laughed at the wicked grin he gave her. “That, too, but not often these days, thank the gods.”

A quick frown crossed Marcus’ face as she ran ahead and sat on a marble bench beneath the shade of an ancient oak. “Tell me everything about Rome, Marcus. What’s happening there? What gossip have I missed? I’m dying to know.”

Marcus talked for some time, his sister utterly absorbed with all he said. A maid came with wine and fruit. He’d never seen her before. Julia dismissed her and grinned at him. “Her name is Catya. Lovely, isn’t she? Do try not to get her with child while you’re here, Marcus. It would annoy Claudius’ sense of propriety.”

“Did you sell the little Jewess Mother gave you?”

“Hadassah? I wouldn’t part with her for anything! She’s devoted and obedient, and she’s been most useful to me over the past few months.”

There was a hidden message in the last part of her statement, for bedevilment shone in his sister’s eyes. He smiled wryly. “Indeed?”

“Claudius is quite taken with her,” she said and seemed amused.

A sudden hot flood of dark emotion burst inside of Marcus. He couldn’t assess his feelings, for what gripped his stomach was far too uncomfortable. “And you’re pleased with the situation?” He asked in quiet, controlled tones.

“More than pleased. I rejoice!” Her smile dimmed at the look on his face. She bit her lip like a child suddenly unsure of herself. “You needn’t look at me like that. You can’t understand how awful it has been, Marcus. I could hardly bear it.”

Growing angrier, he caught her wrist as she looked away. “He was cruel to you?”

“Not cruel, exactly,” she said and looked up at him with embarrassment. “Just
persistent
. He became tedious, Marcus. He wouldn’t leave me alone for even one night. Then I came upon the idea of sending Hadassah. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? She’s just a slave. She’s to serve in whatever way I decide. Claudius seems perfectly content with the arrangement. He hasn’t complained.”

The blood was pounding in Marcus’ head. “A fine scandal it will be if she becomes pregnant before you.”

“I don’t care,” Julia said. “He can do whatever he likes to her as long as he leaves me alone. I can’t stand him touching me.“ She stood up and moved away from him, wiping tears from her pale cheeks. ”I haven’t seen you in months, and now you’re angry with me.

He stood and went to her. He took her shoulders firmly. “I’m not angry with you,” he said gently. “Hush, little one.” He turned her and held her close. He knew such arrangements worked in many households. What business was it of his if his sister decided to conduct such practices in her own home? As long as she was happy, what difference did it make what she did?

But it did make a difference. He told himself it was concern for his sister’s marriage that made him uneasy. But the thought of Claudius Flaccus having both his sister and Hadassah rankled. More than he would have thought possible.

Claudius joined them then. He looked robust for a man of fifty, and content in his marriage. Marcus watched him with Julia for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. One thing was clear: Claudius was no longer in love with her. He treated her with polite consideration and diffidence, but the spark was noticeably gone.

Julia was relaxed and went on questioning Marcus about Rome. She made no effort to include Claudius in her conversation, almost blatantly ignoring him. When he did join in the conversation, she listened with an air of boredom and long-suffering that made Marcus cringe inwardly. However, Claudius seldom had anything to say. He listened politely to their conversation, but didn’t seem much interested in affairs of state or what had occurred at the various festivals. He seemed distracted and deep in his own private reverie.

They reclined on the couches for the evening meal. A succulent oak-fed pig was served as the main course, but Marcus had little appetite and ate sparingly. He drank more wine than usual, and the tension grew in him rather than dissipating with the drink. Hadassah waited upon Julia.

After a first brief glance at the Jewess, Marcus didn’t look at her again. He noted Claudius did, however, several times. He smiled once, a fond smile that made Marcus’ hand clench on his wine goblet. Julia seemed perfectly content.

Musicians played on a pan flute and lyre, soothing sounds to ease a troubled heart. Following a final course of fruit, Claudius held up his golden goblet and then turned it over. The red wine splashed onto the marble floor in libation to his gods, thus ending the meal.

Julia wanted to sit in the gardens. “Marcus and I have so much to talk about, Claudius,” she said, looping her arm through Marcus’ and making it clear that her husband’s company was not wanted. Marcus noted that Claudius smiled warmly, relieved.

“Of course, my dear,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Marcus felt her fingers tense on his arm. Claudius straightened and looked at him. “I will see you in the morning, Marcus. Whatever you want, you’ve only to tell Persis.” He left them.

“Would you like a shawl, my lady?” Hadassah said. “It’s cool this evening.”

Her soft voice cut through Marcus’ heart and he felt a rush of unreasoning anger against her. She left the room and came back with a wool shawl, which she placed tenderly over Julia’s shoulders. He watched her openly, but her eyes never once lifted to his. Hadassah bowed slightly and took a step back.

As they sat in the garden, Julia wanted him to talk about all the gladiatorial contests he’d seen over the past months. Marcus amused her with various stories of contests gone awry.

“The Briton dropped his sword and began running around and around the arena. He was small and very fast and made the Gaul look like a lumbering ox. The little Briton must have run past his sword three times and never thought to pick it up. The crowd roared with laughter.”

Julia laughed, too. “Did the Gaul ever catch him?”

“No, and the contest became so boring, the Gaul was called out of the arena and a pack of trained dogs sent in. The little Briton didn’t last long after that. A few minutes and it was over.”

Julia sighed. “I saw a gladiator some time ago running with his trainer along our road. He was very fast. He would have caught that Briton easily.” She put her hand on Marcus’ thigh. “When will you take me to the ludus?”

“Give me a day of rest from my journey. Then we’ll discuss it,” he said with a distracted smile. Try as he might, he could not keep his mind from wandering back to Hadassah.

“I don’t want to discuss it. Every time I discuss it with Claudius, he changes the subject. He says he hasn’t the time to take me. He has time. He just doesn’t want to go. If you refuse me, I shall find a way to visit a ludus all by myself.”

“Still threatening me with dire consequences, I see,” he said, grinning at her.

“It’s not funny. You can’t imagine how boring it is to live in the country.”

“You used to love the country.”

“For a week or two, when I was a child. I’m a woman now, Marcus. I’m sick of playing knucklebones and dice.”

“Then settle down and have some children,” he said, tweaking her cheek playfully. “Card wool and weave like Mother.”

Her eyes flashed with resentment. “Very well,” she said with grave dignity and began to rise.

Laughing, Marcus caught her wrist and made her sit again. “I’ll take you, little sister. Day after tomorrow, I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

She brightened immediately. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.” The evening air grew chilly and they returned to the house.

Marcus made use of Claudius’ fine bath. He was amused when Julia sent Catya to him. She held the towel as he left the water and offered to rub his body with scented oils and scrape him. However, he dismissed Catya in favor of Claudius’ masseur. He had ridden long hours and slept on the hard ground. His muscles ached, and a woman’s gentle hand wasn’t what he required. Later, perhaps.

He thought of Hadassah as the slave kneaded his muscles.

Somewhat relaxed after the rubdown, he retired to a spacious guest chamber and reclined on the bed. He gazed in bemusement at the prim fresco of children playing in a field of flowers. Perhaps this room had been intended for a nursery.

A dark thought came. What chance was there for Julia to have children if she allowed her maid to usurp her?

The hour was late. Julia would long since have gone to bed and would have no need of her maid now. He wondered if Hadassah still went secretly into the garden at night to pray to her god. Thinking to find her there, he rose and went out. When he didn’t find her, he entered the house again and summoned a slave.

“Bring Hadassah to me,” he said and saw the brief flash of surprise before the servant’s feelings were hidden.

“My apologies, my lord, but she is with the master.”

“The master?” he said darkly.

“Yes, my lord. The master summoned her after the evening meal. May I bring you something? Would you like some wine?”

He cleared his throat nervously and lowered his voice. “Do you wish Catya summoned?”

“No.” The evening meal had been over for hours. Had they been together all this time? Angry blood pounded in his veins. “Where are the master’s chambers?”

“The master is not in his chambers, my lord. He is in the bibliotheca.”

Marcus dismissed him with a jerk of his head. He was going to put a stop to whatever was between Claudius Flaccus and Hadassah. He couldn’t imagine why Julia had been so foolish as to allow it to go this far. He left his room and went along the corridor toward the library. The door was open.

As Marcus came near, he heard Claudius speaking. “Of all these many laws you have told me over the past few days, what then is the most important one, the one that supersedes all the others?”

‘“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.‘”

Marcus moved into the doorway and saw them sitting close together. Hadassah sat straight-backed on the edge of a stool, hands folded in her lap. Claudius was more comfortable on his sofa, his gaze intent upon her face. Marcus leaned indolently against the frame, trying to keep a cool head against the hot rush of anger. “And if your neighbor is your enemy?” he said indolently.

Claudius glanced up in surprise. Obviously, he did not welcome the intrusion. Marcus didn’t care and returned his attention to Hadassah. She was standing, eyes downcast, awaiting her master’s dismissal.

“You may go, Hadassah,” Claudius said and stood.

Marcus didn’t move from the doorway and she couldn’t pass. He studied her from the top of her dark head down to her small sandaled feet. He waited for her to raise her eyes and look at him, but she didn’t.

“Come in and sit down, Marcus,” Claudius said, putting away his ink and quills and rolling up a scroll on his desk.

Marcus straightened slightly, and Hadassah moved by him. He heard the soft tread of her footsteps down the hall. “It alwaystakes me a few days to adjust to the silence after Rome,“ Claudius said, smiling at Marcus in commiseration.

Marcus entered the room. It wasn’t the silence that had kept him awake.

“May I offer you some wine?” Claudius said and poured a goblet of wine before Marcus answered. He held it out to him. Marcus took it and watched him pour another for himself. Claudius was relaxed, his eyes brighter than they had been all afternoon in Julia’s company. It would seem Hadassah was stimulating company.

“I’m sorry I interrupted something between you and my sister’s maid,” he said stiffly.

“No apology necessary,” Claudius said and reclined on a sofa. “We can continue tomorrow.” He made himself comfortable. “Did you wish to talk about your sister?”

“Your wife?”

Claudius smiled slightly. “When she so pleases,” he said ruefully. He took a sip of his wine and motioned for Marcus to sit. “If you want my permission to take her to one of the local ludi, you have it. I will give you a few names.”

“I’ll make the arrangements tomorrow,” Marcus said.

“Was that all that was on your mind, Marcus?” He felt the younger man’s tension, even sensed his anger, though he could not fathom the reason for it.

“All is well between you and Julia?” he said.

“Did she say it was not?” Claudius said in some surprise.

Marcus knew he was standing on sandy ground. This was Claudius Flaccus’ home, not his own. Julia was Claudius’ wife, Hadassah her slave. Marcus had no right to question another man’s treatment of his wife or how he used his slaves. “No,” he said slowly. “She told me she is content.” His eyes narrowed coldly. “Julia is far too innocent.”

Claudius studied him more closely. “What is really on your mind, Marcus?”

Marcus decided to be frank. “Your relationship with my sister’s maid.”

“Hadassah?” Claudius sat up and set his wine aside. “Your sister earned my undying gratitude when she sent her to me. She is the first Jew who has spoken freely about her religion. Most look upon us as heathens. Amusing, isn’t it? Every religion looks upon others as heathen, but there is a profound arrogance to the Jews‘ monotheism. Hadassah, for example. She is a humble servant, devoted and obedient. Yet there is an uncompromising quality about her faith in her god.“

He stood and went to his scrolls. “Hadassah fascinates me. I’ve gained more knowledge about Jewish history and religious culture from her in the last two months than I’ve been able to glean in years. She knows a great deal about their Scripture, despite the fact that most Jewish women are excluded from studying their Torah. Her father apparently taught her. He must have been a freethinker. Listen to this.”

He rolled his scroll out and set a weight upon it. ‘“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me? Why are You so far from helping Me, and from the words of My groaning. O My God, I cry in the daytime, but You do not hear; and in the night season, and am not silent.’”

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