Valeria’s Cross (28 page)

In her pending loss, Valeria rejoiced, not realizing that in a very short time her earthly protector would be gone … and her life would take such a drastic turn that she could not have imagined it if she had tried.

F
ollowing Galerius’ death, Valeria immediately sent a messenger to Egypt to request a position for herself and her mother in Daza’s court.

“Are you sure we would not be more secure with Licinius in Nicomedia?” Prisca asked. “After all, Daza has surpassed Galerius in his torture of Christians and Jews. Are you not afraid of him?”

With Daza ruling Syria and Egypt, Valeria had not seen him in many years. “I am unfamiliar with the man Daza has become, but one thing I know from our years of friendship and unrequited love, I can trust him to take care of us.”

“Ah, but people change,” Prisca cautioned. “And are you so naĩve as to believe he will not want to quench his desires that have smoldered all these years?”

“Mother, Daza is a happily married man with a family. And do I need to remind you that his daughter is engaged to Candidianus? Besides, I am now a middle-aged woman, not the young girl he once lusted after.”

“You are so naĩve. You are more beautiful now than when you were young. He will still find you a great temptation.”

Valeria rolled her eyes. “Once he gave up hope of being with me, a deep friendship ensued between us. I often privately advised him regarding Galerius. I can assure you Daza will allow us to grow old gracefully in his court with great respect and honor. And he always promised me I could worship as I pleased.”

“But Daza allowed such bitterness and resentment to take root in his heart when Galerius first passed over him for emperor that I have heard his persecutions of the Christians and Jews are beyond imagining.”

“Mother, have you forgotten that because of Galerius’ edict, there is no more Christian persecution in the empire?”

But to Valeria’s surprise, before her letter even reached Daza, he sent a messenger early one morning, proclaiming his undying love for her and begging her to come at once so they could at last consummate their unrequited love.

Valeria was indignant and quickly sent a return message stating that he knew her well enough to understand that she would never lie in bed with another woman’s husband.

In great haste, Daza sent an apology. “Forgive me, my love, but you have misunderstood your passionate suitor, for this was not a request to share your bed without the benefit of marriage. It was a marriage proposal. I desire to marry you so we can be together as long as we both shall live.”

This incensed Valeria all the more. Because of her status as Daza’s stepmother, she responded with scathing frankness, ordering the messenger to “tell your king that I am unduly flattered by his marriage proposal, but alas, I am still clothed in my widow’s weeds. My mourning for his father has not yet expired, so I am not at liberty to entertain any thoughts of marriage. Furthermore, I am shocked that Daza would make such a request of his father’s widow when my husband’s ashes are yet warm!”

The messenger soon returned with another heartfelt apology from Daza. “The king begs your forgiveness. He says that you may live in his court unencumbered until you feel sufficient time of your widowhood has passed, and then the marriage is to take place. In the meantime, he will set aside his wife, so you will not feel slighted and the emperor will be ready when you are, to marry, and together you shall rule the Roman Empire.”

Once again, Valeria’s response was anything but positive. “Tell Daza that I will never marry him or prostitute myself with him. He has acted impiously in proposing to divorce a faithful wife to make room for another, whom I fear in time, he might also cast off?”

This time Valeria’s reply infuriated Daza. The messenger did not return to Nicomedia; instead a platoon of soldiers appeared at the palace one morning and arrested Valeria and Prisca. Their eunuchs and servants, and even their close friends, women of high station, were burned at the stake after unfair trials, where all the women were unjustly accused of adultery. Valeria and Prisca were forced to watch each act. When the last person who was dear to them had been tortured to death, Daza had the women banished to the deserts of Syria. As evil as he had become, it was apparent that he could not bear to have his beloved Valeria executed.

After their ship arrived in Ctiesphon on the Tigris River, Valeria and Prisca were marched across the desert for miles until they reached the place of their exile.

The horrors of the desert were far more than Valeria and Prisca could have imagined. Valeria secretly forfeited a bag of her jewels to bribe a centurion to take a message of their
plight to her father at Spalatum in which she described their fate and begged him to intervene on their behalf.

But Daza relished turning down the requests of the powerful old emperor. To celebrate this great achievement, he ordered that a fourteen-year-old vestal virgin, who resembled Valeria, be brought to him. When she rebuked him because of her Christian faith, he proceeded to ravish her body until he eventually tortured her to death with his own hand. Then he sent a messenger who forced Valeria to listen to every sickening detail of the girl’s capture and ultimate demise.

On their trek across the Syrian Desert, the entourage surrounding Valeria and Prisca encountered countless snakes and lizards, as well as experiencing severe dehydration. Many of their captors died. One day the soldiers, who were unfamiliar with the desert, were remiss in recognizing the ominous sound of a saw-scaled viper, the deadliest of snakes of the desert. Except for one faithful servant, everyone gasped in horror as the fiery, copper-colored snake flew through the air and landed on Valeria, inserting its deadly fangs into her neck.

Thinking with great speed, the young servant yanked the snake’s fangs from Valeria’s neck and tossed the serpent behind her where the soldiers killed it. Like a vampire, the servant fell on top of Valeria and sucked the venom from her neck.

By nightfall the servant was dead but Valeria lived, although now seriously ill and delirious. Prisca held a prayer vigil at Valeria’s side. When they reached the home of Prisca’s friend Lydia, where they had been offered refuge, Valeria lay close to death for a month, consumed with grief for the servant who had given her life to save her. Still, when Lydia’s husband, Cyrus, sent word of Valeria’s condition to Daza, he refused to show mercy.

Somehow Valeria and Prisca survived in Syria for the next two years, during which time Diocletian continually implored
Daza to release them, though his pleas were in vain. Now, nearly two years later, Valeria sat at her dressing table in Syria, resigned to her circumstances.

This particular morning she had awakened with thoughts of Daza, and had reflected on the many difficulties she had brought upon herself and her mother because of her refusal to marry him. His love for her had metamorphosed into an even more passionate hatred, and she was powerless to stop it. It was so different from the love she had known with Mauritius, or even Galerius. Ultimately, she feared that Daza’s love would destroy her and Prisca.

She frowned at her aging reflection in the mirror, then took a lemon from the blue pottery bowl of fruit. With a small silver knife, she methodically sliced the fruit in half and squeezed the juice into her palm, and then splashed it about her face. The remaining juice she rubbed between her hands.

“Lemons are wonderful.” Her mother’s voice interrupted Valeria’s beauty regimen. Fresh from her morning walk, Prisca removed her cloak and came to stand behind her daughter, who massaged the juice into her cheeks with her fingertips.

“Did I not tell you that the best beauty provisions are sent from heaven above?” Prisca asked.

“My skin has never felt so soft.” Valeria patted her cheek and then turned to reach up and embrace her mother. “You look happy this morning, Mother.”

“I am hopeful,” Prisca announced. “Lydia says news has come from Nicomedia. She is waiting for us on the terrace to fill us in on the details.”

Valeria’s heart leapt at the implications. “What sort of news?”

“I do not know, but Lydia was smiling when she summoned me.”

Valeria did not bother to put her hair in a chignon but left it swinging about her shoulders as she and Prisca hurried to the terrace where Lydia waited.

Lydia smiled, motioning them to the opposite side of the table, where a servant pulled out two chairs for the ladies. From the curious expression on Lydia’s face, it was hard to imagine what sort of news she was about to tell them. Valeria shut her eyes in anticipation of yet another disappointment— though she wondered what could be worse than their exile in Syria. She clung to her mother’s hand as they waited.

“This is not yet confirmed,” Lydia told them, “but this morning Cyrus said he heard at the marketplace that Daza is dead.”

Valeria gasped, lunging forward on the edge of her chair. A mixture of happiness and sadness wrestled in her heart over the news, as she was transported back to a time when the two of them were young and hopelessly attracted to one another. But the joy of what this meant for her and her companions far outweighed any smidgen of grief she felt for the man who had become her late husband’s adopted son and yet had persecuted Christians—including herself and her mother—unmercifully.

“When did this happen?” Prisca asked.

“Apparently, Licinius’ soldiers had the emperor and his troops surrounded, so Daza drank a vial of poison,” Lydia said, her lips curling into a smile. “But not before he signed a declaration that put an end to the Christian persecutions, adding to the edict already signed by Galerius before he died.”

Valeria was speechless as she embraced her mother, remembering the day she had sat at her husband’s bedside while he dictated the declaration to a scribe. How foolish she had been to think that edict would assure safety to all Christians! But now …

Lydia clucked her tongue. “Even this is not for everyone, I am afraid. Daza ordered the pagan priests executed because they advised him to attack Licinius.” Lydia leaned in closer. “This could be good news for you.”

Valeria jumped to her feet and looked down at Prisca. “Oh, Mother! Soon we too can go grow cabbages with Father!”

“What do you mean, child?” Lydia asked.

Prisca quickly described Diocletian’s gardening to her cousin. This time, Lydia joined in the laughter.

“God has answered our prayers,” Valeria exclaimed.

“Not so quickly,” Prisca cautioned. “We have no idea what Licinius might do.”

“But he was such a close friend of Galerius,” Lydia protested, “and of Diocletian too! Surely he will allow you both to return home. After all, Galerius was his benefactor.”

“They were boyhood friends too,” Valeria added.

Prisca’s voice was steady, her face unsmiling as she responded. “It does not matter. We must wait until we know for sure how Licinius will respond to us. Remember, we thought we were free to worship and proclaim our faith openly when Galerius signed his edict before his death. Unfortunately, we quickly found that it did not apply to us.”

“Perhaps you will feel differently when you hear what else I have learned,” Lydia said. They all took their seats at the table, and Lydia spoke in a whisper so the servants could not hear. They had learned to be very careful, never knowing who could really be trusted. “Before Licinius went into battle, he was rumored to have had a vision.”

Valeria frowned. “What sort of vision?”

“From God. It came to him in a dream. Cyrus heard that when Licinius awoke the next morning, he made a commitment to go into battle with our Lord and Savior as his protector.”

“Licinius, a Christian?” Prisca clapped her hands. “Then it is no surprise that he was victorious over Daza. We will likely be free to go home soon.” She touched her daughter’s face, and Valeria felt the strength of hope flow from her mother’s touch.

“Oh, to see the coast of Solano again—and Father, of course,” Valeria mused.

When she was a little girl, Valeria had often visited her paternal grandmother at Salona. It was a magical place, and when she and Galerius had visited the palace her father had constructed for his retirement outside Salona, Valeria thought it was more magnificent than any palace she had ever seen in Rome or Nicomedia.

“There are churches there too—churches where we can worship openly, now that the persecutions have ceased,” Prisca noted.

As the women basked in the morning sunshine, allowing the implications of Lydia’s news to settle deeply into their hearts, Lydia’s husband, Cyrus, and one of their guards returned from the marketplace. As soon as the guard was out of hearing distance, Cyrus brought more news. “Apparently it was Constantine who pressured Licinius to go into battle with Daza.”

“Why?” Prisca wondered aloud.

“Daza was the only ruler who ignored Galerius’ edict to end all Christian persecution. As we well know, he did exactly as he pleased. And look at the trouble it caused the two of you!”

Cyrus glanced around and then took a seat beside his wife and across from Prisca and Valeria so the guard could not hear them. He leaned forward as he spoke, “A month ago, Constantine looked up at the sky and saw a cross. He analyzed the ruin of the Roman emperors throughout the centuries and
realized the lives of the pagan rulers always appeared to end in death and destruction.”