Captive Heart (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (7 page)

“Your mother didn’t leave you on the rocks to die.”

Cassius’s eyes widened, his face going suddenly pale. Forgetting his earlier promise, he interrupted. “What are you saying?” he croaked hoarsely.

“It was not your mother who left you on the rocks to die, Cassius. It was her husband.”

Cassius could hardly breathe. “My father? How long have you known this?”

Though his voice was steady, the reluctance in Anticus’s voice couldn’t be missed. “I’ve always known.”

A sudden surge of billowing dark anger boiled up in Cassius. His body began to shake with barely controlled fury. “Go on, don’t stop now,” he commanded snidely. “So my father was the one to disown me.”

Sighing, Anticus continued. “Your father was not your mother’s husband.”

The silence in the room was almost deafening. Anticus’s voice seemed unusually loud when he continued. “Your mother was in love with a young legionnaire. She and her husband had an arranged marriage, and her husband was very brutal to her. Needless to say, she found solace and comfort in the arms of a soldier in Florian’s regiment.”

“Her husband is a soldier?” Cassius interrupted again.

The look Anticus gave Cassius was hard to interpret. “He was. He died some years ago.”

“And my mother?”

“Your mother was the friend of my sister. I grew to love her as much as I loved your Aunt Penelope, so when she needed help, I was there for her.” Anticus took a knife from the tray and began to pull the skin from a peach, not so much to satisfy his hunger as for something to do. “She became pregnant while her husband was away on a campaign. She was frightened of the consequences if he should find out it was another man’s child, as well she should have been. He eventually did find out, and he almost killed her. After you were born, he snuck you away one night and left you outside the city to die. The rest you know.”

Samah could see Cassius struggling to understand everything Anticus had just told him. She wanted to reach out to him. Comfort him. She wanted to give him the kind of love he had never known from any woman. Realizing her thoughts, her own mind was thrown into sudden confusion.

Somewhere along the way over the past several weeks, she had begun to care about the Tribune Cassius. Frightened, she turned away lest he could see her feelings registered in her eyes.

“Where is my mother now?” Cassius rasped.

“I don’t know,” Anticus answered heavily. “I kept track of her until just before you left for Palestine, then suddenly she disappeared. I have had men searching for her for some time.”

“Did she know about me?” The pain in Cassius’s voice brought tears to his father’s eyes.

“Yes. She expected Florian to do something, so she had a servant always watching him. He followed Florian outside the city gates and then brought you to me. She asked me to take you in as my own, and I was more than happy to do so.”

“Why did she never come to see me?”

Anticus sighed. “Florian would have killed you. She loved you enough to make that sacrifice. Then by the time Florian had died, you were already my son. She didn’t want to change that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Cassius couldn’t bring himself to look into his father’s face.

“I promised that I wouldn’t,” Anticus told him regretfully.

“Then why now?”

Anticus scooted forward on his seat until he was close enough to touch Cassius. He laid his hand gently against Cassius’s rough one.

“Cassius,” be began quietly. “I am a Christian. I knew that when you returned to Rome I would have to tell you the truth. I cannot go to my grave with a lie in my heart. To God, lying is an abomination.”

“God,” Cassius spat. “That’s something I will have to take up with Uncle Trajan.”

After that one declaration, silence permeated the room for some time. Finally, Cassius turned to his father. “I need some air.”

“Cassius. . .”

“Please!” Cassius grated. “I need time to think.”

Anticus regarded him steadily. “As you wish. But you will come back, won’t you? Trajan will be here soon.”

Cassius snorted. “Something else I need to think about.”

“My son. . .”

“Father, I love you. Let’s say no more right now.”

Cassius turned to Samah, his look inscrutable. “Stay here. I’m sure you and my father have much to talk about.”

Flinching at the caustic tone of voice, Samah lowered her head in obeisance.

Snapping his fingers, Cassius called to Sentinel. “Come on, my friend. I feel like having your company.”

Feeling snubbed, Samah watched them leave the room.

“He’ll be all right,” Anticus soothed. “I’m certain of that now.”

“Now?” Samah questioned, her brow knitting in confusion.

Anticus smiled. “Why, now that you are here, of course.”

“My lord,” Samah said disbelievingly, “I think you credit me with too much.”

Handing her a section of grapes, Anticus told her, “Have faith in God, Samah. I do.”

Humbled, Samah took the grapes, trying to enthuse herself with a desire to eat. It was useless. Before long, even Anticus gave up the pretense, and he had the servants clear the table.

Hector came to the door. “General Trajan is here, my lord.”

Anticus smiled. “Send him in! Send him in!”

The man who entered the room came as a surprise to Samah. Although he had to be close to fifty years of age, his physique was lean and hard, his hair lightly speckled with gray. His vivid blue eyes were clearly visible across the distance of the room

Anticus rose to his feet, shifting his toga as he did so. “Trajan. It’s good of you to come.”

“You sent for me, my friend,” the other man laughingly reminded, taking Anticus by the forearm.

Anticus returned his laugh. “True, but it was good of you to come when I know you are so busy.”

“Never too busy for a friend.”

“Cassius is home.” The words hung like a threat in the air.

“Ah,” Trajan breathed. “I didn’t know.”

“He came unexpectedly. Titus allowed him to return from Palestine when he heard that I was ill.”

“I see.” He turned the full force of his blue eyes on Samah. “And who might this be?”

Anticus’s look was inscrutable. “She is Cassius’s slave, Samah. A Samaritan of the Christian faith who was caught inside Titus’s siege wall.”

Trajan smiled at Samah, reaching out a hand to her. She took it, and he squeezed it briefly. “A sister in the Lord, then. How wonderful that you escaped Jerusalem.”

When he looked into Samah’s eyes, his own eyes widened, and the color drained from his face. He stood looking at her for so long that Samah grew uncomfortable under his continued regard.

“From Samaria, you say?” he asked absently.

“Yes,” Samah agreed, curious at the man’s sudden stillness. “My parents live there.”

“Have you an aunt?”

Surprised at the question, Samah nodded slowly. “Yes. Her name is Mara. She’s married to my Uncle Adonijah.”

Trajan’s face paled even further. Growing concerned, Anticus stepped forward.

“Are you all right, Trajan?”

The words seemed to snap Trajan out of the trance-like state he had fallen into.

“Yes.” He glanced at Anticus. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Anticus motioned to the couch, watching his friend closely. “Have a seat. You don’t look well.”

Though Trajan was still staring at Samah, he quickly turned to his friend and smiled. “I’m fine, I tell you. It’s just the heat.”

Lifting one brow dubiously, Anticus seated himself opposite his friend. The fall temperatures had dropped considerably the last several days, causing him to question the statement, but he said nothing. He rang the bell beside him, watching Trajan’s still pale face. When Hector arrived, Anticus told him, “Bring some wine, Hector.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Trajan followed his progress as he left and then turned to Anticus.

“Did you say Cassius’s slave?”

When Hector returned with a tray, Anticus took a goblet, motioning for Trajan to take one for himself. Both men relaxed back against the cushions.

“I haven’t talked to Cassius about the slave issue yet,” Anticus told Trajan. “I’m afraid I need to let him adjust to the fact that I’m a Christian first.”

Trajan chuckled lightly. “I assume he didn’t take it too well.”

Anticus smiled wryly. “Better than I hoped.”

Samah watched the two men, so different yet so alike. From time to time, Trajan’s eyes would stray to her, and she squirmed under his look, not certain what to make of his continued perusal.

She let her mind wander to thoughts of Cassius, and wondered where he was and what he was doing. She prayed for his safety and his acceptance of his father’s faith. She only hoped that Anticus’s faith in her was as justified. Frankly, she doubted her ability to reach Cassius if his own father could not.

“Where is Cassius now?” Trajan inquired, setting his goblet back on the table.

“Right here.”

The cold, clipped voice caused the smile to falter and then die on Trajan’s face. He rose to his feet, studying Cassius warily.

“Welcome home, Cassius.”

“Thank you.”

Anticus noticed Cassius’s bristling demeanor. “Dear, dear,” he stated wearily. “This is not exactly as I hoped it would be when I got you two together.” At both men’s questioning looks, Anticus pursed his lips, shrugging. “I have something I need to say to the both of you.”

Samah saw Cassius’s eyes darken to ebony, and she felt her own stomach drop in expectation of what was to come.

“More bombshells, Father.”

Looking uncomfortable, Trajan glanced from one to the other. “Really, Anticus, whatever you have to say should best be said between the two of you.”

Anticus shook his head. “No, this involves you, too, my friend.”

Trajan sank to the couch behind him.

“Come, Cassius. Have a seat,” Anticus demanded.

“I think I would rather stand.”

Anticus steadily regarded his son until Cassius finally yielded. “Have it your way then. Let’s get this over with. I suppose it has to do with this confounded religion you’ve all embraced,” he snarled, glaring at Trajan.

He seated himself beside Samah, giving her a brief look. Turning back to his father, he impatiently prompted, “Well?”

Without preamble, Anticus told them, “Cassius, Trajan is your true father.”

For several long moments both men stared at Anticus, doubting his sanity. The lasting silence in the room became almost oppressive, an eerie tension hanging in the air.

Cassius was the first to break it.

“What are you saying?” he choked out.

Anticus took a deep breath, glancing guardedly from one to the other. He began to nervously twist the purple fringe on the edge of his toga. “It’s a long story,” he finally told them.

“I have time.”

Samah looked quickly at Trajan’s set white face. His features seemed carved in lines of marble, his jaw clenched firmly. Though his voice had been quiet, it was menacing nonetheless.

“As do I,” Cassius agreed.

For the first time since Anticus had made his declaration, both Cassius and Trajan looked at one another. Both men seemed to be searching for something in the other that would give truth to Anticus’s statement.

Cassius turned back to Anticus, fear radiating from his dark gaze. Anticus had always been his father, the one who loved and cared for him. Though he knew that Anticus was not his blood father, it had never made a difference in his feelings for the older man. Would such a revelation fracture the bond that had always existed between them?

As though he could read Cassius’s mind, Anticus smiled reassuringly. His own eyes shone with a love that nothing could sever. Somewhat satisfied, Cassius awaited Anticus’s explanation.

Anticus focused his unwavering gaze on Trajan, an imploring look in his eyes.

“My friend, I never wished to deceive you.”

Brushing both hands slowly through his hair, Trajan held his head between his palms and studied Anticus.

“How can this be true?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Slightly embarrassed, Anticus looked quickly at Samah before flushing a bright red. He returned his gaze to Trajan.

“Perhaps you don’t even remember Cassius’s mother. She was the wife of General Florian.”

Startled, Trajan straightened. “I remember her,” he disagreed huskily. “I didn’t know she was married at the time. When I found out, I left.”

Anticus nodded. “Indeed. You left shortly thereafter for a post in Jerusalem, and Callista found out she was pregnant with your child.”

Trajan’s lips parted slowly, his tongue brushing his suddenly dry lips. “I never knew.”

Again, Anticus nodded. “Callista told me the father of her child and promised me to silence. I know I shouldn’t have agreed, but she was desperate.”

Cassius felt Trajan’s look, and turned slowly to face him.

“I can’t believe it. Cassius is my son.”

Cassius couldn’t believe it either, but after careful contemplation of the other man, he could see similarities that he hadn’t really thought about before. The thought of being an illegitimate child, though, left a sour taste in his mouth. But would it be better to be legitimate and rejected? He smiled without mirth.

“I have always thought of you as a man any other man would be proud to claim as father, and I have always been pleased to call you my uncle, but this is something I need to think about.”

Rising to his feet, he motioned to Samah. She quickly got up, steadying herself with her crutch.

“Wait!”

Trajan rose to his feet also, standing almost toe-to-toe with Cassius. “We need to talk.”

Cassius shook his head, his mouth set grimly. “No, now is not the time. My father,” he said with intent, glancing at Anticus wryly, “has given me much to think about today. I need to be alone.”

“When can we talk, then?”

Taking Samah by the arm, Cassius began to walk away. Without looking at Trajan he replied, “I’ll let you know.”

Cassius maintained a brooding silence as they walked along the streets. Darkness had descended, and the carts and wagons were making their way through the city streets to the markets to unload their supplies for the morning. A watchman passed them, his alert soldier eyes searching for anything improper.

Samah longed to offer Cassius some kind of comfort, some kind of counsel, but she could think of nothing to say.

There was something about the man Trajan that bothered her. His eyes continually strayed her way the whole time they were in the room together. It caused the hair to prickle on the back of her neck.

Democritus met them in the atrium. “My lord, Justinian is awaiting you in the peristyle.”

Frowning, Cassius snapped, “Now?”

Surprised, Democritus took a hasty step backwards. “I’m sorry, my lord, but he thought you were in a hurry.”

Sighing, Cassius looked at Samah. “Come with me.”

She followed him in silence. When they entered the garden, Justinian turned from his contemplation of the fountain in its center. He smiled.

“Ah, my lord, you’ve returned. I hope it was all right with you that I waited here. Democritus seemed to think that you would return soon.”

Cassius unhooked his cape from his chest piece and dropped it on a marble bench. “I hope you haven’t had to wait too long.”

Justinian made a disparaging gesture. “Not at all.”

Motioning for Samah to be seated next to his cape, Cassius turned to Justinian. “What do you have to show me? I must say, it didn’t take you long.”

Chuckling, Justinian carefully removed a leather thong from a pouch. “It was a challenge. I couldn’t sleep for thinking about it.”

He took a block of wood shaped somewhat like a foot from the same bag. Kneeling before Samah, he glanced at Cassius first for permission. Cassius nodded for him to continue, watching with interest as Justinian placed Samah’s leg into the top portion of the wood piece. A piece of lamb’s wool was fit into the hollowed out surface of the wood, and Justinian placed Samah’s leg there. Her leg slid smoothly into the groove, fitting snugly. Justinian then took the leather thong and wrapped it around the whole piece, much like any other sandal.

When he finished, he sat back on his haunches and glanced up at Samah.

“Stand up,” he commanded.

Easing herself to her feet, Samah stood for the first time evenly with both appendages on the ground. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she smiled brightly at Justinian.

“Try to walk,” he told her calmly.

Hesitantly, she moved the encased foot forward, then pulled her good foot forward to meet it. Though it was awkward, she was able to maintain her balance without the crutch.

Cassius stood watching her silently, his arms crossed over his chest. He caught Samah’s eye.

“Well,” he asked. “What do you think?”

“I. . .I don’t know what to say.”

“Can you use it?”

She took several more steps, and though the fitted piece was awkward, it gave her more freedom of movement than the crutch. She assumed she would grow accustomed to it in time, just as she had her crutch.

Smiling shyly from Cassius to Justinian, she told them, “It’s a marvelous invention.”

Justinian beamed at them both. “Does it meet with your approval, my lord?” he inquired at length.

Cassius gave him a brief smile. “I knew if anyone could do it, it would be you, Justinian.” The carpenter’s chest puffed out proudly at the honest praise. “Come with me, and I will get your payment.” He turned to Samah. “Wait here.”

Samah seated herself on the marble bench, stroking
Sentinel’s massive head. What Cassius had done for her was a marvelous thing. She felt a thrill of happiness at being able to walk unencumbered by a crutch. She wondered why he would bother to do such a thing. Alerted to his return by the dog’s attentive posture, she smiled shyly when he came through the door.

Though Cassius seemed pleased with his gift, it was obvious that his mind was on other matters. As for herself, Samah was reluctant to mention his comments about repayment. She had no money to give him, and her mind balked at payment of any other kind.

Cassius came and stood before her. Samah had to look a long way up into his face.

“I was hoping the sandal would give you more freedom of movement. Try it for a few days, and if things work well, I would very much like it if you would take Sentinel for walks around the city, much like you did in Caesarea.”

She blinked wide eyes at him. “Is this the. . .the payment you spoke of?”

One corner of his mouth tilted slightly, and there was a devilish sparkle in his eyes. “Of course. What did you think I meant?”

Disconcerted, Samah ducked her head in embarrassment. “I had no idea, Tribune.”

Cassius smiled at the rosy color flooding her cheeks. Her dark brown hair tumbled around her face, hiding her features from him. Wanting to see her face, he dropped to one knee before her.

“Samah,” he entreated softly. “Look at me.”

She had a hard time doing as he suggested. Finally, she lifted her eyes to his. He reached out and traced a finger slowly down the creamy skin of her cheek.

“You have nothing to fear from me. I will not hurt you.”

Looking into his handsome face, it suddenly occurred to her that he could hurt her in ways he was totally unaware of. She knew with quick insight that she loved him as she had never loved any other. Swallowing hard, she dropped her eyes to the floor.

Cassius studied her a long time before rising slowly to his feet. He hadn’t missed the softening of Samah’s features, and he felt his heart beating more rapidly in response. He had seen that look before, and knew with certainty that Samah was infatuated with him. For the first time in his memory, he found himself reluctant to hurt a woman.

“Take some time and get used to the shoe. There are things I need to attend to.”

“Are you going to speak to your father?”

Seeing his darkening expression, she realized she shouldn’t have spoken.

“What I do is of no concern of yours,” he told her coldly. “I’m leaving Sentinel with you. See that he is fed.”

“Yes, Tribune.”

Cassius saw the pain flash through her eyes and knew that he had hurt her. His own distress had caused him to lash out in anger, and though remorseful, he really didn’t know what to say. Besides, she was a servant and nothing more. Why should he even care what she thought?

“And by the way,” he told her roughly. “The title is now Commander.”

“Yes, Commander.”

He barely heard her softly spoken answer. Shrugging off the feeling that he should somehow remedy her unhappiness, he turned on his heel and left.

❧

Cassius watched the full moon rise above the eternal city. Sitting on a hill not far from the Tiber River, he knew the golden globe would be reflected on its glistening surface. He
was smart enough to sit upwind, for the Tiber reeked of
the city’s waste that was piped from Rome’s homes.

A cool breeze wafted gently on the night air, lifting
Cassius’s dark curls from his forehead. He tensed at the sound of someone approaching.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Trajan’s voice came to him from the darkness, followed by the man himself. Cassius said nothing.

“Do you mind if I have a seat?”

Without looking at the other man, Cassius told him, “As you wish.”

Undaunted by the lack of welcome, Trajan seated himself next to Cassius. Taking a blade of grass, he began to chew it.

“I remember how often you used to come here to think.”

Cassius remained silent.

Sighing impatiently, Trajan dropped the blade of grass. “Has it ever occurred to you, Cassius, that this might be just as big a shock for me as for you?”

Acknowledging that to be so, Cassius relaxed slightly. He asked the question that plagued him the most.

“Did you love my mother?”

Trajan took so long to answer, Cassius turned to him with lifted brow. The older man shrugged.

“I thought so,” he answered quietly.

“You
thought
so?” Though Cassius hadn’t raised his voice, Trajan flinched at the angry retort.

“I was very young when I met your mother, and full of life and Roman pride. She was very beautiful.” He paused. “But then I found out that she was the wife of General Florian.”

“And you were what? A captain?”

He nodded. “Needless to say, when I found out that Callista was the wife of my superior officer, I left.”

“Would you have done so if you had known about me?”

“I don’t know.” Trajan’s voice was ragged. “I keep asking myself the same thing.”

“You have never struck me as a coward,” Cassius disputed.

“There are differing degrees of cowardice, Cassius,” Trajan disagreed. “I’m not certain what I might have done.”

Cassius remained silent, his questions unasked. Suddenly, he was afraid to know the answers. Indeed, as Trajan had said, there were different degrees of cowardice. He had never considered himself to be afraid of anything, but now. . .

“Where do we go from here?” he asked the older man.

Trajan turned to him, his look direct and unyielding. “Where do you want to go from here?”