Man of God (16 page)

After a pause he said, “If you’re certain. I
leave it to your wisdom. She is mature beyond her years—perhaps it
is time.”

Alysia moved slightly and tucked her head
beneath his chin. She said softly, “About what happened today…I am
almost in awe of you, Paulus.”

“No, don’t ever say that, Alysia. That was
beyond my control—yes, I let it happen, but the power was not mine.
You know that.”

“The spirit knew—it called you a man of
God.”

“And what is that, but one who obeys God? Or
tries to.”

“It’s more than that.”

“Yes, perhaps you are right. A man of God
suffers for his faith, Alysia—he is tried in fire. You and I have
suffered, but no more than others have. The evil spirit recognized
the spirit of God in me—that is all.”

“What do you suppose that man will do
now?”

“I don’t know—I’m sorry he left. I wish we
could have talked with him.”

The room quieted as they fell silent; the
wind had subsided but the muffled sound of rain still beat against
the house. Alysia sighed contentedly, closing her eyes. Her hands
moved slowly over the bare, muscular arms clasped at her waist. As
she leaned her head back, Paulus wound his fingers in her hair and
pressed his lips against her throat.

A rattling came from the door and it opened
to reveal Daphne, blinking at them in the dim lamplight.

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t
think…that is, I can’t find Tigris. Have you seen her?”

Considerably annoyed, Paulus turned and
nevertheless calmly replied, “Rachel was running up and down the
hallways with her. You might look in one of the other wings of the
house.”

“Oh,” Daphne said again. “Well,
goodnight.”

“From now on,” Alysia murmured, when she had
gone, “be sure to bolt the door.”

* * *

The next morning while Paulus was out riding,
and Daphne was being entertained by her puppy, Alysia called Rachel
into her bedroom. She had thought carefully over the words she
would say, and managed to get through the first part. Rachel sat
listening with apparent interest, perhaps not quite comprehending
it all. Alysia took a deep breath.

“I’ve told you the physical aspects of how
life begins, dear, and I hope you understand very clearly that all
of this is to take place within the bonds of marriage. This is what
Jesus taught, and it is a sacred thing, not to be taken lightly,
nor entered into impulsively. Often a girl’s husband is chosen for
her by her parents, but when it comes time for that, Rachel, you
can be assured that your father and I will take your wishes into
account.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Now there is something else I must tell you.
It’s very difficult for me. You are very young, darling, but it’s
time you knew.”

Rachel looked concerned, shifted around and
said hesitantly, “Father has already told me, Mother, about why you
had to leave Rome, and why the soldiers are looking for you.”

Alysia smiled. “Yes, I know he did. We had
already agreed that when the time seemed right, you should be told.
I hope you don’t think too badly of me, Rachel.”

“Oh, no!” Rachel sat up straighter, looking
her mother earnestly in the face. “Father said it’s not a sin to
kill someone who is trying to kill you.”

“Well, that is a matter of opinion, I
suppose, and I don’t know if this man was going to kill me. But he
was trying to take me by force…in the way I’ve described to you.
This is called rape, and it is very wrong, and against the law, but
it’s difficult to prove. A woman’s word is usually not enough.
Women are considered to be dishonored, afterward, and sometimes are
even expected to commit suicide. Besides all this, I was a slave. I
had no rights. Do you understand, Rachel?”

Her daughter gave a slow nod and cast her
gaze downward.

“And now…I must tell you about the
circumstances of your birth. Did you overhear any of the talk the
other night, when Megara came to our house?”

“I heard a few things, but none of it made
sense, Mother, until Father explained them to me.”

“He has left it up to me to explain this, as
he should have.” Alysia paused again, wishing with all her heart
she didn’t have to go on…yet she did.

“I’ve told you that marriage is a holy
thing—but there was a time when I did not regard it as such. The
marriage between my first husband and myself was not a happy one.
He loved me, but he was often away from home. I cared for him as
well. But I was in love with your father, Rachel, even then—even
when I knew it was wrong. And one time, we gave in to that
temptation. Your father was not yet a believer. But I knew
better.”

She waited a long moment, giving her daughter
time to think about what she was telling her. She could practically
see Rachel linking things together in her mind and coming to the
correct conclusion, because her cheeks grew very pink.

“Jesus knew of it, and he forgave me. But
Rachel, always remember…there are consequences for the things we
do. God will forgive us if we ask him to, but that doesn’t mean he
will take away the consequences. I was put on public display for
what I did, and to this day I don’t know who knows the truth.
Lazarus and Martha, yes, and at least one of the disciples. If
there are others who saw me that day…I cannot say.”

Alysia reached out and took her daughter’s
hands. “The truth always comes out, and it can be harmful to the
innocent. But Rachel, I rejoiced on the day of your birth! And your
father loves you…more than anything in this world.”

Her daughter kept looking at the floor.

“My husband was—killed—very soon afterward.
He belonged to a group of men who fought the Romans. There’s no
need to tell you how he was executed, except that your father was
involved, as the commander of the fort. But it was right. My
husband refused to be pardoned. People in Bethany have always
assumed
he
was your father.”

Rachel murmured, without looking up. “That’s
what Martha’s neighbor meant, when she said I didn’t look like my
father.”

“That’s right. I don’t know if she simply
made an innocent remark, or if she was being—malicious. But there
are people in the world, darling, who take pleasure in accusing
others…of making others feel small and shameful. You must try to
respond as Jesus would want you to.”

Alysia thought guiltily of her own response
to Megara, and how she’d wanted to do her bodily harm! Well, Rachel
certainly knew by now that her mother wasn’t perfect. And
unfortunately for Megara, God would deal with
her
in his own
time.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you these things,
Rachel. But you may hear of them, and I don’t want you to be hurt,
or to have to wonder what is true, and what isn’t. You can have no
doubt how much you are loved. Would you like to ask me
anything?”

Rachel shook her head. A moment went by, and
she asked, “Is that all, Mother?”

Alysia sighed. “Yes. That is all.”

She withdrew her hand from Rachel’s. Her
daughter stood up, left the bedroom and walked slowly down the long
hallway to her own room.

A short while later, Alysia heard the soft,
sweet strains of music…Rachel was playing her lyre.

CHAPTER XII

The following morning, her parents told
Rachel she could have a puppy. Overjoyed, she couldn’t wait to
return to the marketplace, and Alysia and Daphne, almost as excited
as she, decided to take her right away to select one. Two male
slaves would accompany them. Paulus declined to go, because of the
attention he had drawn before, and let it be known he would spend
the day riding. He set off in an easterly direction through the
woods, on a well-defined path that looked as though it had often
been trod by horses.

It
would
be easy to get used to this,
he thought, remembering Daphne’s words when they’d first arrived at
the villa. Birds twittered and chirped overhead, the breeze swept
mildly through his hair and there was no sense of urgency pressing
upon him, no need to be constantly on guard. He hadn’t gone far,
though, when the fine stallion nearly unseated him, dropping one of
his forelegs and beginning to limp heavily. At once Paulus
dismounted and examined each leg and hoof, but he could find no
injury. He knew these horses were well cared for, and there could
be any number of causes for lameness.

“Easy, fellow,” Paulus soothed, as the
stallion shook his head and neighed. Well, there was no help for
it…he took the reins and began slowly walking the horse back toward
the villa. His muscles were still a little sore from carrying
Daphne the other day…she was heavier than she looked…and he wasn’t
as young as he used to be! And though he never mentioned it, his
leg often ached where he’d once suffered a severe wound, as did the
arm that had been broken…both injuries having occurred during an
enemy attack, while he was in Judea.

Leaving the horse in the care of the slaves
who managed the stable, he entered the east wing of the villa, and
thought suddenly of the baths. In Rome, he had never visited the
public baths, except when he was looking for someone and that was
the only place he could be found. Being a soldier for most of his
life, Paulus considered it self-indulgent and a waste of time…but
at the moment, the thought of soaking in hot water was extremely
tempting.

He asked one of the slaves to light the
furnaces below and went into the kitchen, where he made himself a
light meal of figs and pomegranates, and bread that he dipped in a
mixture of olive oil and black pepper. Another slave came and
protested that the guest was serving himself instead of calling for
him, and Paulus talked with him for a while, until the first slave
approached and told him the bath had been prepared.

He entered the vast chamber, with its mosaic
tiles and frescoed walls. Some of the paintings had apparently been
of a risqué nature and had been, since Horatius’ conversion,
covered with a fresh layer of paint. Paulus stripped off his
clothes and went down the steps into the steaming water, found a
comfortable spot, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Again,
a sense of calm and peacefulness came over him—two things he
definitely didn’t feel when Daphne was around. She had a way of
disturbing one’s peace of mind no matter what she was doing.

He didn’t know why she kept coming into his
mind. She’d been acting
different
lately. He admitted to
himself that perhaps it was only male conceit, but he’d been
stalked by women often enough to know when they were giving certain
signals…and often enough, in the past, he’d taken them up on their
offers. But that
was
in the past.

It had been foolish of him to invite her
here. He couldn’t have left her as she was, but he
could
have arranged for her to go somewhere else; there were several
unattached women in the community of believers with whom she could
have stayed while she sorted out her thoughts. But he didn’t think
she would have gone. And would they have helped her, or made her
feel worse? In a way, maybe it was right for her to come here. He
felt sure that Alysia had succeeded in at least making her feel
accepted. Rachel, too, had reached out to her, and they often
played games together…and now they had their adoration of the puppy
in common. Although, he had seen Daphne on occasion regard his
daughter with a look of… almost…resentment.

Daphne understood the truth about Jesus
Christ…he had little doubt of that. But she hadn’t accepted it; she
was holding back for some reason, and it went beyond her
protestations that no one would allow her to forget her past. He
didn’t know of anything more they could do, other than pray and
keep exhibiting love and acceptance toward her.

Half an hour passed and he almost fell
asleep, now free of the soreness that had plagued him earlier. He
climbed up the steps, grabbed a linen towel to dry himself and
began putting on his clothes. A whisper of movement, and a flash of
something in the corner of his eye, made him turn his head toward
the entryway…but there was no one there.

It was very quiet as he walked through the
atrium, with not a servant to be seen. He missed his wife and
daughter and wondered how he would spend the rest of the day. He
should go into the prayer room and prepare himself for the public
debate. He needed to refresh his memory on some of the popular
philosophies and religions, and with that in mind he walked to the
far end of the house and turned to enter the library. Somewhere,
too, Alysia had placed a precious set of parchment sheets on which
she and her friend, Mary, had written every saying of Jesus they
had heard…or been told of by one of his close disciples…in Hebrew
and in Greek. He knew all of them, but he liked to read them
nevertheless.

Before looking at the books, however, he was
distracted by the view from the window, which faced south toward
green fields and mountains. He stood there for a long time, his
handsome features deeply thoughtful. His hair was still wet and the
dark green of his tunic clung damply to his shoulders.

No sooner had he sensed a presence behind him
than two silken arms slid around his lean waist, and a soft body
pressed itself against the back of his. Paulus turned at once,
avoiding the entangling arms, and looked into Daphne’s eager, dark
eyes. He grasped her roving hands in both of his.

“I stayed here—for you,” she breathed, her
face flushed with desire. “Come lie with me—no one will know.”

He saw that she was clothed in a diaphanous
gown; her rich dark hair was loose, and a heady perfume floated in
the air around her. “Daphne—stop,” he said, as she struggled to
pull her hands out of his iron grip.

“Kiss me, Antonius,” she whispered, leaning
into him, her lips parted. “I can do things for you you’ve never
dreamed of—.” A swift, silent battle ensued; Daphne determinedly
pushed toward him and Paulus sought to restrain her.