Man of God (15 page)

Megara had actually considered going to
Caligula and telling him the whole story…how she had faked her own
death (she would say it was because she was so depressed over the
state of her marriage), and how she had found Paulus in Rome…but
something that
woman
had said gave her pause. The emperor
might not like being tricked. He might not find the reality of his
traipsing teary-eyed in a funeral procession behind a fake mummy as
hilarious as she hoped he would.

Oh, but she was so tired of being alone, and
of having no friends and no one to talk to except the wretched
slaves—and she didn’t talk to them, actually, she just ordered them
about and scolded them when they deserved it, which was often. She
wanted to dye her hair red again, and go out in society and find
another wealthy husband, since it would be obvious to all that
Paulus Valerius had abandoned her. Once the prospect of being an
abandoned wife had been odious to her—something that must be
avoided at all costs. The years of virtual exile had changed her
mind; in fact, perhaps she could use the “desertion” to her
advantage.

But Caligula was so unpredictable. And he
might not have forgotten that little thing she had let slip that
made him think she supported Sejanus—that thing she herself
couldn’t even remember. Perhaps she
shouldn’t
consider
betraying Paulus to the authorities; he would probably tell
Caligula all about her, and then she would be in as much trouble as
he.

The next time she went for an installment of
her living expenses she would just have to warn him that he was
being sought much more aggressively than he had known. Or perhaps
he did know it and still went about business as usual—trusting that
his God would protect him! She still couldn’t get over
that
.
Paulus was the last person in the world she would have thought
could be taken in by such superstitious nonsense. But he had
changed…drastically!

Megara rose and went to stand by the window,
her statuesque figure outlined against the hazy, setting sun. The
nightly clang and clatter on the streets below had already
begun.

Why did it have to be so hot and noisy? She
was beginning to hate Rome.

CHAPTER XI

The walk to the marketplace only took about
half an hour. The tree-lined avenue to the villa branched toward a
road surrounded by woods, and when they reached the bazaar everyone
except Paulus was surprised by its size and many diversions.
Because he had formerly owned a villa, he had visited such country
markets before, but he had to admit this one was more impressive
than any he had seen.

Farmers and merchants who didn’t wish to sell
their goods in the odorous and overcrowded markets of Rome gathered
here, and not only people from the country but a large influx of
patrons from the nearby resort city of Tibur came to look over the
fresh food and merchandise. Rows of tents and canopies stretched
from one end to the other. Wooden structures had been set up as
well, and the merchants sat behind tables or counters and loudly
called out to everyone who passed by. There were games being
played, dancers with their accompanying musicians, and even a group
of acrobats performing, far to one side. On the opposite end, smoke
billowed upward and the smell of roasting meat filled the air. It
was early in the morning, and already a steady flow of patrons
poured in from the connecting roads.

Daphne and Rachel had found a tent full of
puppies from which they obviously wouldn’t be parted for some time,
so Paulus and Alysia strolled on, with Paulus lightly clasping one
of Alysia’s arms just above the elbow. He wore a rust-colored robe
with a hood for partial concealment, and Alysia’s head covering
extended past each side of her face.

He was very quiet, she thought, as they made
their slow way through the crowded rows and aisles. His mood was
light, though, and he seemed to have gotten over the discouragement
he’d experienced when Camillus’ father died. For several days now
Alysia had sensed a gathering strength in him, something she’d
witnessed often over the years; there were times he prayed longer
and immersed himself more deeply in reading the Scriptures, and
always during those times strength and power emanated from him
almost tangibly. She’d experienced those moments herself, but
Paulus had surpassed her…and she was proud of him, proud of his
faith and his ability to share it. She felt, somehow, that he was
going to share it today.

* * *

He had been aware for some time that they
were being followed. At first it was only the knowledge that a
certain young man was keeping up with him, and Alysia, everywhere
they went. Whenever they stopped to look at something the young man
would stop, and Paulus…without seeming to…examined him closely and
decided he’d never seen him before. There was something strange
about him; he walked with an odd, shuffling gait, his black hair
was long and uncombed, his bare arms showed ugly red scars where
something had viciously cut him.

He followed them as they came to the far end
of the market, where about a dozen men were sitting in chairs
beneath the trees, having a heated discussion. As he listened
briefly, Paulus could tell they were landowners and “amateur”
philosophers who gathered here to air their views in public…today’s
topic seemed to be whether or not women should be allowed to speak
in the forums and markets. He thought it best to steer away from
that conversation.

Before he could move, the young man behind
them began to make a low, whining sound. Alysia noticed him for the
first time and gave her husband a puzzled look. Immediately Paulus
felt a sense of darkness, of something evil…almost the same feeling
he got when he was around soothsayers and those who practiced
divination and sorcery. He made a small gesture with his head, and
he and Alysia turned and went in the opposite direction. They
traversed the entire bazaar again, passing booths and tents of
merchandise, vendors selling food, people playing board games,
others throwing dice and playing games of chance. The man continued
to follow them, and his whining grew louder until it gradually
became a keening wail.

They were back to the group of men seated
under the trees. The men had ceased talking, as had everyone within
hearing distance of the wailing young man.

Paulus felt the spirit of God coming over him
as never before. Deep within, a power burgeoned and grew; it
filled, and began to overflow…as a vessel too full of water cannot
hold it.

He turned abruptly and commanded, “Be
silent!”

The young man cowered back. “What have we to
do with you, man of God?” he cried. “Why have you come to threaten
us?”

Paulus pushed back the hood of his robe; his
eyes locked with those of the other man. “In the name of Jesus
Christ, come out of him!”

A hideous scream rent the air, sending
shudders through all who heard it. The young man convulsed and fell
to the ground, where he lay completely motionless, his eyes closed.
Alysia, and everyone else, stared at Paulus. A spate of murmuring
erupted; one of the seated men rose and bent close to the unmoving
form on the ground.

“He’s dead!” the man exclaimed. “You’ve
killed him!”

Without answering, Paulus stepped forward,
reached down and clasped the young man’s arm. He pulled upward, and
at once the man opened his eyes and stood. He looked at Paulus with
an expression of wonder; he lowered his head and without another
word turned and walked away, his gait normal. The people around
them continued to watch, awestruck, as though waiting for something
else to happen. Having heard the commotion, others hurried toward
the scene, Rachel and Daphne among them. Daphne had a puppy in her
arms.

An elderly man called out, “Sir, would you be
so good as to come here?”

Still in the grip of supernatural power,
Paulus turned toward the men under the trees and waited for them to
speak. The elderly man said, “That man is known to us—he has often
come to this place. His despairing father, too, has come with him.
Others have tried what you did, and failed. In fact, he beat one
such man rather brutally and ran him off. But he’s never followed
anyone about as he did you. Tell us, who is this Jesus Christ, in
whose name you healed this man of his lunacy?”

“Sir, if I may have an audience, I could
speak at great length about Jesus, who has the power to heal, to
cast out demons, to bring the dead to life and to save the souls of
men.”

Another of the seated men answered, “We have
asked a man to speak to us today, but we will hear you out five
days from now, at this time and place, if you are willing. But we
must be allowed to have our say, as well.”

Paulus inclined his head. “I am more than
willing. I will see you then.”

* * *

Observing the stares of those surrounding
them, Paulus said in a low voice to Alysia, “We’d better go. When I
come back, I come alone.”

Clouds had gathered overhead and it seemed a
good time to make their departure. The four of them began to walk
toward the road leading to the villa. They stopped briefly at one
of the booths to eat a small meal, and were on their way again. By
then Paulus had relaxed, Alysia noticed, and seemed more like
himself.

“Isn’t anyone going to admire my new puppy?”
Daphne asked, pretending to pout. “I’m naming her Tigris, because
she keeps growling. They said she was bred on the island of
Malta.”

Alysia looked at the ball of white fur with
large black eyes; the little dog was panting and looked as though
she were smiling, exhibiting a tiny pink tongue. “She’s adorable,
Daphne…how old is she?”

“Eight weeks. She’s very playful…she doesn’t
mean anything when she growls.”

“Mother, can’t we have a puppy?” Rachel asked
wistfully.

“Not just yet, darling. Things are so
unsettled now.”

Rachel looked disappointed but didn’t argue.
Daphne walked along, feeding Tigris bits of cheese. They entered
the road through the woods, where only a few people passed to and
fro.

Daphne didn’t like silence. “Well, I didn’t
get to see everything that happened, but I saw enough. Have you
ever done that before, Antonius?”

Paulus shook his head. “No, Daphne.”

“Did you ever heal anyone? How did you know
you could do it?”

Paulus sent a look of silent appeal to
Alysia, who answered, “Let’s not speak of it, Daphne. One does such
things by the spirit of God, and there is no explaining the how or
why of it.”

Daphne looked exasperated. “Wait,” she called
suddenly. “I have to put Tigris down for a moment.”

The puppy began to busily sniff the ground,
and after a moment darted playfully away. Daphne ran after the
puppy, tripped on the hem of her gown, and fell gracefully into the
dirt.

“Ow!” she cried, pulling up her skirt to
examine her ankle.

Alysia rushed to her side. “Are you hurt,
Daphne?”

“I—I’m not sure.”

Paulus came over to assist her to her feet,
and she slowly put her weight down on the injured ankle. Tears of
pain came into her eyes.

“I don’t think I can walk.”

Paulus said, after a moment, “Alysia can stay
here with you. Rachel and I will go on and bring the carriage.”

“But it’s about to rain! Can’t you carry me,
Antonius? It’s not far—I can see the villa from here!”

Alysia glanced at the gray sky, which was
beginning to rumble with thunder. Paulus seemed to be waiting for
her response. She nodded at him, hiding her annoyance.

He lifted Daphne in his arms. Rachel came
running up with the squirming puppy. Daphne looped her arms around
Paulus’ neck and smiled apologetically at Alysia, who forced
herself to smile back. But much later, when it was almost time to
retire, she noticed that Daphne completely forgot to limp.

* * *

An oil lamp flickered on the dressing table
as Alysia sat on the bench before it, brushing her long black hair.
The dark violet of her soft linen nightgown almost matched her
eyes. She wasn’t sure where Paulus was…but it was his habit to
disappear at times—to walk, to think, to pray.

Her uneasiness about Daphne was increasing.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Paulus, but she firmly believed
that Satan was setting him up for a fall. Especially after today.
She had been dumbfounded when Paulus cast out the demon, or
demons…although she had witnessed one other exorcism, performed by
Jesus himself. It had never occurred to her that Paulus would be
able to do such a thing. He had become a
threat
to God’s
adversary…Satan, that fallen angel once known as Lucifer.

Outside, a storm lashed at the trees and sent
rain pounding against the shutters that covered the windows. It
somehow made the room feel safe, and intimate. Just as she put down
the brush, the door opened and closed. Paulus came toward her, bent
and kissed the top of her head. He sat behind her, straddling the
wide bench and placing his legs alongside hers.

“Rachel has fallen in love with that puppy,”
he said, as he slid his arms around her waist. “I’d like to get her
one someday…soon.”

“Paulus, I’ve been thinking…ever since you
had that talk with her, that it’s time I told her certain things.
First of all, about—about where babies come from. It’s not too
soon, with everything she must see and hear in Rome. The statues,
the drawings on the walls, the symbols—why, it’s everywhere! And
she’s going to hear things from other children.”

“Better you than me,” he answered, smiling.
“The Lord be with you.”

“And I need to tell her about the
circumstances of her birth. Before she hears it from someone else.
Now that people know…children could overhear their parents talking,
and things always get out somehow.”