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Authors: Roseanna M. White

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BOOK: A Stray Drop of Blood
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And then your mother remarried?”

Small clouds of dirt puffed up with every step of their feet. “My father’s friend. We were in debt to him and he . . . Mother said if she did not marry him, he would have taken all we had. I had no brother, no uncles to care for us. We would have been left as beggars if we had not gone to Silas’s house. So the day her mourning was complete, they wedded.”

Andrew sucked in a breath that sounded as outraged as she felt. “So soon?”

A short nod confirmed it. “His first wife was displeased, jealous. Mother was very beautiful.”


I suppose that is why she sold you.”


Yes.” Her gaze went to the backs of Ester and Cleopas, and warmth surged up inside her. “I am blessed that it was the master who came.”


You are indeed.” Andrew’s tone was low, serious enough to tell Abigail he spoke of something she did not quite understand.

The walk to the general’s house was short, though on the other side of the Praetorium. Many soldiers of the Tenth Legion were out and about on the streets, all showing deference to the man in charge of their training as they passed him. Cleopas acknowledged each as if he knew them by name, by face.

Abigail suspected he did. A man to take such an interest in his slave’s education surely gave even greater respect to the free men under his command.

When they arrived at the massive abode that housed the general, Abigail followed Andrew’s lead and headed to the kitchen at the rear of the house.

A dour-faced man received them. “The bulk of the serving will be done by our staff,” he said as he made a motion to a girl behind him. “Since you know your masters best, stay by their sides and we will deliver food and drink into your hands.”

His eyes narrowed upon Abigail. She fought the urge to squirm and instead squared her shoulders. He sniffed. “Although perhaps we ought to provide a maidservant for the lady?”

Andrew’s hand landed with comforting weight upon her shoulder. “Abigail is strong. She handles everything herself.”

She could not have said why his confidence in her warmed a frozen place inside
.

 

~*~

 

Ester followed her hostess outside into the well-appointed courtyard, happy to escape the talk of politics that the men had turned to. She knew her husband was enjoying the chance to socialize with others more recently from Rome–after twenty years in Israel, and ten in Gaul before that, Cleopas undoubtedly missed the customs of his home. But he had chosen to let her run their house in the Hebrew tradition, which meant that his were still largely unfamiliar to her.

Several moments throughout the night, she had felt the difference of her world and his. In things as small as the stola Julia wore over her tunic to the vast difference in their outlooks.

Ester settled onto a stone bench, softened with colorful cushions that a servant undoubtedly took inside every night, and motioned for Abigail to take up her position behind her. She would have liked to urge the girl onto the pillow at her side–would have, had they been home–but refrained. Julia would not approve, and Abigail would feel it.

Julia’s maidservant had also followed them out, but the hostess waved her away with an abrupt flick of her wrist. The girl, probably twice Abigail’s age, slunk back inside. Julia sighed. “That girl is such a nuisance. I brought her with me from Rome, but she has done nothing but mope since we arrived. I begin to think she had a lover there she did not tell me about.”

Ester hummed but made no other reply. Perhaps she ought to comment on the lovely jeweled collar Julia wore. Anything to turn the conversation from the servant’s personal life.

Julia’s eyes turned to Abigail. “How long have you had your girl?”


Abigail has been with me for a year.” Hopefully her soft smile would prove she was more than just a girl to her.


Only that long? She is very well trained. From whom did you purchase her?”

Ester shifted, turned slightly so that Abigail would not feel like a shadow behind her. “The poor dear was orphaned, and her guardians could not keep her. Thankfully, Cleopas heard of it and brought her home to me. I have been very blessed to have her.”


She is a pretty child. I have always thought that important–who wants to look at a homely creature every day? So long as they do not think themselves above their stations because of their looks.” She narrowed her gaze on Abigail. “Do you dress her so well to entertain yourself, or is she already showing signs of arrogance?”

Ester felt her spine go rigid. “It is Hebrew tradition to treat fellow Israelites with compassion. Especially orphaned children, even if they are slaves. Moses says they are in their position only because of an unfortunate turn, not because they are worth any less than the rest of us.”

Julia’s face reflected apology and youth. Ester was reminded of the decade she had on her hostess, of the relatively new marriage to the general. “I am sorry,” her hostess said, voice soft. “The custom in Rome is quite different, and I am not very familiar with the ways of the Jews. I pray you will be patient with me and help me learn the customs of your people. I will need the education, if I am to survive here for any length of time.”

Ester relaxed again. “I will be glad to help. And perhaps you can teach me more of the ways of Rome. Cleopas and I have not had the opportunity to return to his home.”

She was rewarded by Julia’s bright, young smile. “I would be honored. Thank you.”

Ester let a relieved breath ease slowly from her lungs. Finally, after twenty years of marriage, she had made a Roman friend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Cleopas noticed the shift in his men before he heard the tickle of a familiar female voice. Their language changed from curses to pleasant observations, their shoulders edged back, their chins went up. He had no need to look over his shoulder to realize that Abigail had stopped by. The greeting of Vetimus, one of his centurions, merely confirmed it.


Abigail, good morning. Market day, is it?”

Her laughter rang out, incongruous with the clang of swords and armor if familiar to it. “As you well know. Though Michael once again tried to charge me too much for the oranges.”


Because you steal the man’s livelihood every time you haggle him down. But more importantly, have you any of Dinah’s famous honey cakes in the basket?”

Again, her laughter filled the halls. “Not today, but I have been instructed to invite you and your family to dinner at your earliest convenience.”


Name the day, and we shall be there.”


Tomorrow.”


We shall see you then. And if it is Andrew you search for, you shall find him at the entryway to the field.”


Thank you.”

Cleopas turned to Andrew. “I imagine my wife has sent her with the correspondence I forgot this morning. Go ahead and fetch it. I shall be over in a moment with the letter.”

Andrew nodded and moved away from the open field, back into the building. Cleopas watched the soldiers for a moment longer, shouting out a command when one flank broke formation. Then his thoughts drifted to the parchment he had received that morning, and his pulse kicked up.

Usually he would bring any news from Jason home with him in the evenings and read it to Ester himself. She had never learned to read Latin, but Jason would write in nothing else. This, however, could not wait. He would entrust it to Abigail, who would not only read it without fault but would be a steadying check on his wife’s nerves.

Eyeing the angle of the sun, Cleopas dismissed his men for their meals and spun around to find his servants. Andrew had accepted a few twined letters from Abigail and had maneuvered her into a corner, shielding her from view of the other men. Had she realized his reasoning, she would probably not have stood so happily, chatting.


Dinah will need my help,” Abigail was saying to Andrew, “so we shall have to cancel your Latin tutorial tonight.”

Andrew sounded as though he was grinning. “A terrible shame. I shall mourn its loss.”

Cleopas rolled his eyes as he moved over to them. Abigail had long ago caught up to him in knowledge, but Andrew still needed the lessons as much as he hated them. Upon reaching the two, he greeted her with a nod. “Abigail, thank you. I am glad you came. Could you please take this home?” He pulled out the parchment, handed it to her. “Read it to your mistress straight away.”

Her eyes sparked curiosity that made it nowhere near her lips. “Certainly, Lord. I shall take it over this moment.”


Have a good afternoon.” Andrew stepped back to let her pass and sighed as she left another wave of staring soldiers in her wake. “Your men are beginning to notice that Abigail is no longer a child, Lord.”


Mm.” And distracted soldiers were never a good thing. “I think it is time that Simon resume the responsibility of trips to the Praetorium. Though our young friend will not enjoy the curb to her independence.”

Andrew grinned and took his place behind Cleopas. “I say we let the mistress be the one to tell her, then.”


You are a wise man indeed, Andrew. That is a sound plan if ever I heard one. We shall let my wife be deafened by her silence and save ourselves the guilt.” Grinning in return, he nodded. “Her obedience can be so demeaning, can it not? Were she a man, she would make an excellent soldier.”


Were she a man,” his servant said behind him, “I suspect she would soon command us all.”

 

~*~

 

Abigail smoothed out the parchment, wondering what news it held. Surely something important, for Cleopas to send it home midday. But nothing bad, or he would not have delegated the task.

She glanced at her mistress, whose foot swung back and forth as she waited. Abigail smiled. “Shall I read it in Hebrew?”

Ester nodded. “Please.”

She cleared her throat and directed her gaze to the words. It was addressed only to Cleopas, so Abigail skipped the salutation altogether. It may hurt her mistress, if only slightly, to know that her son had not cared to include her in whatever was of such import.

“‘
I have not much time to write,’” she began, “‘as I must go soon to the house of a friend to dine. They are an influential family, and it may serve me well to be accepted by them. Titus’s father, Caius Asinius, was up until recently a consul, and a very successful one. Of course, some say it is because of Tiberius’s excellent mood due to the death of Germanicus that he was met with such ease in his duties, but I will retain judgement on the matter, as I have never had cause to meet the Emperor himself. At any rate, the house of Asinius is one destined to greatness, and I am pleased to be seen as one of their friends. Actually, though, I find Titus a bit intolerable sometimes, as he seems to have the opinion that he is too good to serve as a soldier. He seems to think that his career in war will not be long-lasted, as his father apparently has other plans for him in a year or two. At any rate, it is still Menelaus Casicus I most enjoy spending my time with, but as he is of a family far below our own, originally Greek, I believe, it is not so advantageous to spend my evenings with him.

“‘
On to the real news, though. I just received my assignments today, and while I am sure you will get the official word soon if you have not already, I knew you would rather hear from me: I am to serve directly under you, Father, replacing Marcus Persibia, the news of whose death has just reached Rome. So I will be on a ship to Joppa within the month, bound home. Tell Mother I am looking forward to seeing her again. Menelaus and Titus have both been assigned in Jerusalem as well; Menelaus to the palace of Pontius Pilate, an enviable post, as he has shown excellent skill in defensive combat. I am not certain where Titus will be; he only said the Tenth Legion and no more.

“‘
At any rate, that concludes the time I have allotted to this letter, and I must be going to the Asiniuses’ now. Give Mother a kiss for me, and know that I miss you both. Much respect, your son, Jason.’”

Abigail looked up from the parchment to see her mistress’s face. Ester sat, at the moment, surprisingly still. Her gaze was looking upon something Abigail could not see, something much farther away than Rome. Back six years, perhaps, to the man-child who had left her home with high expectations. Abigail tried to conjure up that image of her first day in this house, but the memory was shrouded in years of growth and change. All she could recall was an impression of a boy with disrespect for the woman she had come to love so much and an eagerness to escape the Law that made Israel a nation blessed by God. The Law she was so grateful to have been taught, that had shown her time and again how fortunate she was to have landed in a house that observed it.


So long I have prayed for his return, and now I fear it.” Ester shook her head, tears in her eyes. “What if he is no longer the son I remember? What if he has given himself to all I warned him against?”


Do not borrow troubles, Mistress. He seems happy to be coming home. Perhaps it required change for that to be, but it cannot be so bad, can it?”

Ester smiled and gripped Abigail’s hand. “You are right. Even so, I need to think, to pray. Leave me for a while, dear one.”

BOOK: A Stray Drop of Blood
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