Luke's Story

PUTNAM PRAISE
Published by
G. P. Putnam’s Sons
Publishers Since 1838
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Published simultaneously in Canada

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
LaHaye, Tim F.
Luke’s story / by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins.
p. cm.

eISBN : 978-1-440-65946-1

1. Luke, Saint—Fiction. 2. Bible. N.T.—History of Biblical events—Fiction. I. Jenkins, Jerry B.
II. Title.
PS3562.A315L
813’.54—dc22

This is a work of fiction based on characters and events depicted in the Bible.

While the authors have made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the authors assume any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Scripture is from the New King James Version
^®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

http://us.penguingroup.com

To
FRANK LAHAYE and HARRY
JENKINS,
who await us at the Eastern Gate

Mercy there was great, and grace was free . . . at Cv height="6" width="1em">
“And you can thank Caesar Augustus for that,” Lippio said,
“Quiescat in place
.
”

“Yes, may he rest in peace. What? You don’t think I know Latin too?”

Lipp
io shook his head. “It shouldn’t surprise me, but that is all
I
know in Latin. I’d wager you are fluent.”

Loukon flew into the main house, apologizing to one and all and demanding to know where the physician was. Someone pointed him to the parlor, where the elderly man was teaching the master’s grandchildren.

“Lippio has been seriously injured and will be here shortly!”

The physician, who had evolved into more instructor than doctor over the last few years, hobbled behind Loukon, breathlessly asking the details. As soon as the wagon breached the gate, three men carried Lippio in, his arm still raised.

The mistresses of the house gathered the children as the physician ordered the men to deliver Lippio directly to his own chambers and called for water to be heated and aides to attend him.

“If this man survives, Loukon,” the physician said, “you will have saved him.”

TWO

Loukon spent much of the day waiting outside the physician’s quarters, venturing back out to his duties only after learning that Lippio would indeed survive.

“He’s going to be very sore for a long time,” the old physician said, “and I don’t know if the arm will ever return to full strength, but your quick thinking and action spared him.”

“You taught me well.”

“I recall advising you only on the care of the occasional lame animal.”

Loukon shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

THAT EVENING, as he sat in a tiny hovel with his parents over a meal of bread and bean soup, Loukon regaled them with the events of the day.

His mother remained silent as his father shook his head. “That was risky, Luke. What if you had caused him more harm?”

“No one else was doing anything, Father! It didn’t seem right to let him lie there and bleed.”

“I suppose not. But did you have any idea what you were doing?”

“All I knew was that doing nothing would have been wrong, and I had to act fast. You can imagine how scared I was.”

“But how did you know to bind him above the wound and keep his arm raised?”

“It just made sense. Men of medicine believe blood originates from the heart, and all of his would have been spilt through the wound if I had not stopped it width="1em">
A knock came at the door and Loukon’s father nodded to his mother. She quickly rose and opened it to a young maiden.

“Your son’s presence is requested by the master,” she said.

“The master?” Loukon’s mother said.

“Theophilus himself,” the girl said, hurrying away.

Loukon’s father raised his brows. “Go with haste,” he said. “And tell the truth.”

THEOPHILUS WAS a robust man in his late forties, white-haired and dressed in brightly colored garments. He remained seated near a fire-place as Loukon was ushered in by an aide. Theophilus seemed to study him, finally gesturing toward a chair.

Loukon bowed and sat.

“I’m told I should be bowing to you, young man,” Theophilus said.

“Oh, no, sir.”

“You had adults doing your bidding during the emergency. You even cowed the marble seller! He had the rest of the lot delivered!”

“I hope I didn’t offend anyone.”

“You certainly didn’t offend
me
.”

Loukon felt self-conscious as the man gazed at him. He wondered if he was expected to reply.

“Your parents have been with me since before they were married, when I moved here as a young man. I remember when you were born. May I call you Luke?”

Loukon forced himself to merely nod rather than to gush, “You can call me whatever you please.”

“You know why you’re here. I am thanking you for the valuable service you performed for me today. I have been told the details, but only secondhand. I shall procure the story from the victim himself when he is up to it, but I would like your account.”

“My account?”

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

A few minutes later, Loukon concluded with, “And then you sent for me. I must say, Lippio nearly gave his life trying to protect your property.”

Theophilus, who had sat smiling through much of the story, now gazed seriously at the young man. “I understand that, but we are talking about you just now. You are aware, I suppose, that many slave owners would restrict offspring from the many opportunities you have been afforded.”

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