Man of God (7 page)

“What do you mean—good? He is punishing me, I
know it. I’ve been so afraid something would happen to my children.
I was afraid in the storm. I didn’t trust him.”

Paulus knelt beside her, placing his hands
with great gentleness on her shoulders. “I will have this out now,
Alysia, before it takes root in your mind. Do you think God is so
cruel as to say—Alysia did not trust me to protect her family, so I
will take the life of her child? Is this the God you know? Is this
the Christ you know, who saved your soul, and returned your life to
you, and sent an angel to rescue our daughter?”

“He took the life of David’s child—David and
Bathsheba! How are they so different from us?”

“David committed murder to cover his sin.
There were consequences—but God did forgive him.” He leaned closer.
“Remember what David said, after his son died?
He cannot come
back to me, but someday I will go to him.
Our son is with God,
Alysia.”

“I’m afraid,” she whispered, after a moment.
“I’m afraid this is going to change me, Paulus, and make me bitter.
Please pray for me.”

He lifted her toward him and held her close.
She turned her head so that her wet cheek pressed against his.
“We’ll pray for each other,” he said.

* * *

Two days later he stood at the rail, watching
as land drew nearer. They didn’t know where they were, exactly, but
it was land. The wind blew back his hair; the sun bore down on his
face and bare arms. There was a deep sadness in him, not only for
the loss of his child, but because the world could change so
suddenly and so completely that it was no longer the same world,
and would never be the same.

“
Be of good cheer
,” Jesus had said,
“
for I have overcome the world
”…

He heard someone approaching behind him, and
turned to see Tatiana. He nodded at her, making a gesture for her
to join him.

“My daughter is visiting your wife,” she
said. “She has enjoyed taking care of Rachel.”

“Alysia might have died without you, Tatiana.
I don’t know how to thank you. And I’ve wanted to say I’m sorry for
speaking to you as I did—that day. I may have meant it, but there’s
seldom any justification for rudeness.”

The woman looked out over the sparkling
water. “I almost didn’t make this voyage, you know. There was a
ship sailing straight to Crete, where we live. But my daughter
became suddenly ill and we were delayed. Her illness went away just
as quickly, but we missed the first ship, and decided to take this
one.”

“Perhaps that was for a reason,” Paulus
ventured, looking into her eyes.

Tatiana smiled at him. “Tell me,” she said,
“about this one, true God.”

CHAPTER V

Camillus, his wife and four children lived on
the Caelian Hill, in a mansion even more lavish than the one in
which Alysia had been a slave, years before. The white marble
floors and pillars in the atrium were streaked with crimson;
matching crimson curtains hung from the glass windows; paintings on
the walls depicted the heroes and heroines of Greek myths.
Feather-stuffed couches with silver feet and fine mahogany chairs
filled the center of the atrium, and beyond these furnishings the
walls were lined with statues and wooden chests with reliefs in
gold and silver, and tall, elaborate lampstands.

Camillus’ wife, Lucia, was a few years older
than Alysia, with thick dark hair and dark eyes that looked bleakly
out of her pale face. The two women sat together on one of the soft
couches.

“Two months,” Lucia whispered. “I had him for
two months, and the Lord has taken him away! Why, Alysia? How have
you borne it?”

“For a long time, I couldn’t,” Alysia
answered, letting her mind go to that place she had closed off long
ago. “Until I remembered something I already knew, and had
forgotten…the words of Isaiah, the prophet. ‘
Surely he has borne
our griefs, and carried our sorrows’.
Those words are about
Jesus. He would carry me though it, if I would let him. But somehow
I wanted to hang onto my grief, Lucia. I was angry. Angry with God,
angry with everyone, because they didn’t behave as I wanted them
to. I wanted everyone to suffer as I was suffering. But the people
who knew, the ones we told, went on as if nothing had happened, as
if it were just a moment in time that hadn’t really meant
anything.”

“Even your husband?”

Alysia shook her head. “No. He knew. But even
he couldn’t completely understand how I felt.”

“Camillus has no idea,” the woman said
bitterly. “He is a brute. You see how he’s been receiving his
clients all morning! I used to think I hated him, Alysia, before we
became believers. I’ve been trying to love him, and now—this—”.

“But he does care,” Alysia said quickly,
putting her hand over Lucia’s. “He sought out my husband yesterday,
to ask for his help. He is most concerned about you.”

Lucia didn’t answer, looking down at the
floor.

“I began to realize how I was hurting my
family,” Alysia went on quietly. “They couldn’t—move forward,
because I couldn’t. And so finally I was able to ask God to forgive
me. It was selfishness, Lucia, pure and simple—even though the pain
was very real. There is a grief that is too deep for words, and
when I sincerely prayed about it, I felt the spirit of God
absorbing it, and grieving with me, but giving me peace as
well.”

Lucia’s eyes filled with tears. “How can I do
that, Alysia?”

“I can’t tell you that, Lucia. It is a
journey that you must make on your own, and find your own way. But
if you ask him to help you, he will.”

The other woman gave a deep, shuddering sigh.
Alysia covered both of Lucia’s hands with her own. “You are so new
in the faith, Lucia. I don’t know why God has allowed such a severe
testing of it, but he is here for you.”

“My heart knows that what you say is true,
Alysia—just as I knew the truth about Jesus when I heard you and
your husband speak of him. But I don’t want to be comforted right
now. All I want is my son back!”

* * *

Petronius took out a bag of coins and set it
on the table. Though he wasn’t tall, his thickset body made him
feel positively huge next to the man who sat across from him.
Livias was small and wiry, with a long narrow head and tapering,
smooth-shaven arms. Streaks of black laced through his silver hair.
His brown eyes were spaced widely apart over his broad nose and he
strongly resembled a ferret. He was, in fact, an excellent
hunter…of men, not rabbits.

Livias glanced around the dimly lit tavern
and took a long drink of the imported Egyptian beer. “Who is it
this time?”

Petronius, too, looked around, and answered
in a low voice, “Paulus Valerius Maximus. Do you know of him?”

Livias was adept at hiding his feelings,
especially surprise. “He is in Rome?”

“He’s been seen twice.”

“Who wants him, and why?”

“The emperor. He left his position years ago
and obviously has been in hiding. According to some of the soldiers
who saw him last, at the Antonia in Jerusalem, he is with the woman
who killed Magnus Eustacius. Caligula wants them both
arrested.”

“Valerius is a great name in Rome,” Livias
said thoughtfully. “Paulus Valerius was well-loved by his
legion…and admired by the Senate. He probably only disappeared to
protect this woman. The emperor is taking a risk if he seeks to put
Valerius to death.”

“Bah,” said Petronius disgustedly. “Caligula
doesn’t care about the Senate. And he thinks the army loves
him
!”

Livias grinned. Petronius expected to see a
line of sharp, feral teeth, but the other man was actually missing
several. Livias didn’t smile much.

“I see you have no love for Caligula. I
wonder that he let you go without shaving the back of your head,
Petronius.”

The soldier’s brows drew together…he saw
nothing humorous in the remark. He was, after all, rather vain
about his thick, curly black hair. Caligula, suffering from
thinning and receding hair, often took his revenge upon men more
blessed than he by ordering a razor to be run down the middle of
their cranium.

“We are not here to discuss the foibles of
the emperor, Livias. I will tell you where Valerius was last seen,
but that is all I know. Are you familiar with his appearance?”

“Oh, yes. I saw him many times when he lived
here before.” Livias gestured toward the bag of coins. “How much
more, if I find him,
and
his wife? They may not necessarily
be together, you know.”

“I’ll double it.”

Livias took another slow drink. “That’s quite
a few months of wages—for you. Or is Caligula offering a
reward?”

Petronius shook his head. “No reward.”

“Then why pay me …why not search for him
yourself?”

“I will be searching, but I need help,”
Petronius said shortly. “And you are very good at what you do.” He
didn’t feel the need to add that his life was probably at stake,
since he had vowed that he would find Paulus Valerius before the
end of August. Why he had made such a rash statement he didn’t
know. Yes, he did…he was trying to divert Caligula from the fact
that Valerius had escaped under the very noses of his guards…even
though they hadn’t known they were supposed to arrest him!

“So, Livias, I may depend on you, then? Of
course, if you find him the credit will go to me.”

Livias shrugged. “I have no wish to be
thanked by the emperor or, gods forbid, even noticed by him. Unless
he changes his mind about a reward.”

“I’m sure you will hear of it if he
does.”

When Petronius had gone, Livias sat for a
while finishing his beer, and thinking. Where would he start
looking for Paulus Valerius and the woman? The guards said he had
headed northeast after passing through the gate. He could have been
trying to throw them off track, but more likely his first concern
was to get the woman and child, his child no doubt, to a place of
safety, and he would have headed for the part of town he was more
familiar with. Although…the former legate and prefect of the city
probably knew Rome better than anyone!

It was possible Valerius was living here now,
especially since he’d been seen in Rome twice recently. The city
was as good a place as anywhere else in the Empire to hide,
considering its huge populace. The army could not be trusted to
find him, unless Caligula offered a hefty reward. Valerius’ own men
had respected him, and many of them probably wouldn’t report it
even if they
did
see him. Even the Praetorian Guard (that
elite unit of the army that thought entirely too much of itself!)
would hesitate to turn Valerius over to Caligula.

Livias considered that he might be better off
concentrating his search on the woman. Beauty stood out from the
crowd, attracted attention…unless she kept herself covered
all
the time. No doubt they were both living under assumed
names.

Well, it wasn’t much to go on…but he’d
started out with less, and been successful.

* * *

Flavius, friend to Paulus Valerius, a
believer, and centurion in the Praetorian Guard, resigned himself
to one of Caligula’s “night flights” as Flavius called them, and
began tying his newly sharpened sword into place. His prowess as a
former gladiator had earned him his present position as a special
escort to the emperor. Not only had Caligula been impressed with
Flavius’ skill with the sword…he’d been envious of the gladiator’s
fame and popularity. Caligula took him out of the arena (and out of
the public eye), made him a Praetorian and assigned him as his
personal bodyguard. Flavius usually accompanied him everywhere,
which even the emperor’s private force of German guards was not
allowed to do.

Fair haired and blue eyed, his once handsome
face had suffered much abuse…his nose bore a distinct bump where it
had been broken, and a vivid scar traced from the corner of his
right eye to his chin. Other scars from stab wounds, cuts,
punctures and even claw marks, covered his body. He wasn’t sorry to
leave the gladiatorial life behind, but he was very sorry to find
himself thus attached to the emperor. He had witnessed things too
shameful to even speak of, which he found especially upsetting
since Paulus had led him to become a follower of the Nazarene.
Thankfully, much of it was done behind closed doors; still, it took
little imagination to realize what was going on. He had, in the old
days, been guilty of similar things himself…women had literally
thrown themselves at him in the streets.

His new wife, Susanna, was a nurse to
Caligula’s daughter, Julia Drusilla…named after the emperor’s
sister, Drusilla, with whom Caligula had shared a definitely
questionable relationship. (Caligula remained in a frenzy of
mourning for weeks when Drusilla died unexpectedly, and proclaimed
her a goddess.) Susanna and himself were, to his knowledge, the
only believers in the emperor’s household, and he often wished he
had the courage to tell others about the Nazarene, as it was
clearly his mission to do. Somehow his boldness in the arena was
not matched by his boldness as a messenger; he knew Caligula would
not approve of his beliefs, for he had already expressed jealousy
of the Nazarene and considered
himself
to be the Jews’
Messiah. Flavius had no wish to be tortured, and certainly didn’t
want to think of that happening to Susanna.

He could, however, try to exemplify those
traits worthy of a believer. He knew the other soldiers thought him
odd, for he no longer swore or drank with them, or indulged in the
sexual escapades he once had. Someday, he told himself, he would
take a stand…someday he would begin sharing his faith as Paulus
did. In the meantime, it was advantageous to be in the position he
now held. He had heard and witnessed things that made it imperative
for him to communicate with Paulus as swiftly as possible.