Captive Heart (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (4 page)

“I gave you a command.”

Biting her bottom lip, Samah held out her hands placatingly. “I have not disobeyed your command.”

“I saw you praying just now,” he argued.

“You did not command me not to pray.”

For just a moment he looked confounded. A muscle twitched at the side of his mouth.

“Then let me clarify my order. You are to have nothing to do with this. . .this
Christian
religion.”

Samah watched him warily. Every time she saw him in all his Roman paraphernalia, it frightened her. Should he so choose, he could give her as the next victim in Titus’s gruesome games. Shivering, she still tried to answer him boldly.

“Being a Christian is what I
am
. It’s not something that I
do
.”

Cassius crossed to her, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He saw her eyes widen in fear. She should be afraid. He wanted to take her and shake her into submission. Never before had he encountered such stubborn resistance, especially from a mere girl.

He was sorely tempted to find a way to make her submit, if not by force, then by guile. She was a challenge to him, and he had never been able to back away from a challenge.

But could he do it? Pictures of those who called themselves Christians floated through his mind. Nothing, not even the fangs of a wild animal, had been able to make them recant. What could he possibly do to ensure Samah’s obedience? He decided to change his tactics. Reaching out, he gently pushed her long, dark hair behind her ears. The clean, silky texture tempted him to slide his fingers through it. Giving in to the temptation, he did so. Something flashed briefly through her eyes, and Cassius didn’t miss it. He took advantage of it, moving even closer.

Cupping her face between his palms, he told her softly, “Then
be
a Christian, but do not
do
it.”

It was hard to think with him so near, but she understood his message. He didn’t want her to show her faith before others, but since it was such an integral part of her life, how could she not? She didn’t know what to say to relieve his mind of worry about her life, because she could tell that he was truly concerned about her. But her life was in Jehovah’s hands.

“Tribune, I cannot deny who I am.”

He took a deep breath, releasing her at the same time. Head reared back, his voice became biting. “Then a new command I give to you. Do not leave this tent again.”

Samah felt her heart drop to her toes. Every day she looked forward to walking about outside. Though she was careful to stay within sight of their camp, the fresh fall air was invigorating just to breathe.

“What of Sentinel?”

It had fallen to Samah to take Sentinel for his daily exercise, and both looked forward to the time spent away from the camp. Samah might have feared for her own safety were it not for the huge beast walking protectively by her side.

“He’ll come with me.”

The words held finality. Samah hung her head, but kept her mouth closed on the arguments she wanted to put forth. She wanted not only to tell others about the love of Jehovah’s Son, but she wanted to share it with this man, also. It had become so important to her that she had burst forth with her proclamation of Christianity without a thought.

She feared Cassius, but not that he might cause her harm. She feared only the strange reaction she seemed to have to his presence.

She looked up only when she heard him leave. Sinking slowly to the floor, she began to pray.

❧

When she saw Cassius again the next day, he seemed preoccupied. He commanded Sentinel to stay in the tent with her and left.

Later, he came into the tent and began to collect his gear.

“Titus has agreed to allow us to leave for Rome. My father is ill.”

“Your father?”

He lifted an eyebrow, smiling slightly. “I do have one.”

Frankly, the thought had never occurred to her. He handed her the rug she used to sleep on. “Get ready to leave. I’ve booked passage on a cargo ship leaving this afternoon. The sea might be kind of rough this time of year, but I have no choice.”

In a way, Samah’s prayers had been answered. She wouldn’t have to witness any more Jews dying at Titus’s hands, but this was not exactly what she had meant by her petitions.

Cassius stretched his arms over his head, the muscles of his chest tightening his tunic. “It will be good to be home.”

Samah wasn’t so certain. She had heard numerous stories of the corrupt city of Rome. The sun was briefly hidden by a cloud, and Samah felt a chill pass through her at the darkness. It was almost as though that darkness had passed right through to her soul.

It finally penetrated her mind that she was about to leave her homeland, the land of her birth. Except for trips to Jerusalem, she had never been outside her own vicinity of Sychar. Now, she might never see her family again.The darkness seemed to increase.

Cassius noticed her sudden stillness. He dropped his arms slowly to his side, brows drawn together. “What’s wrong?”

The gathering tears in her eyes brought a sudden lump to his throat. He walked across and bent to look into her face.

“Samah?”

“My family,” she whispered brokenly.

He looked at her with understanding, his lips parting slowly. It only now struck him that she was still but a child, a child who was about to be torn from her way of life. For the first time in his life, it bothered him to see a woman upset. Never before had he given any thought to a woman and her tears. He didn’t know what to say.

Noticing her distress, Sentinel came and nudged his muzzle into Samah’s hand. He whined softly, seeming to understand her dilemma.

Cassius felt like something that had crawled from the swamps. He looked from one to the other and, for a moment, was tempted to leave them both here. Realizing the foolishness of that thought, he turned away and began to gather their supplies.

“I’ll leave the packing to you. I must take my leave of Titus.”

Samah watched him leave the tent and wondered what kind of life she would lead in Rome. She had heard so many stories, and when she was younger she had wanted to visit that city. But then there had been Nero, and she had decided that such a ruler didn’t speak well for the populace of the city.

How could a people be so ignorant of the one great God and fear Him so much that they would destroy His people? Whatever had happened to Roman tolerance? And whatever was going to happen to her?

The hulking cargo ship creaked and groaned, sliding into the dock on the Tiber River with practiced ease. The city of Rome stretched before Samah’s astonished eyes, the clay-tiled roofs spreading as far as the eye could see.

The gangplank was dropped, and men moved quickly up it to the deck of the ship. Within moments, the whole ship was alive with activity. A stuppator nimbly scooted down the scaffolding hanging to the sides of the dock and expertly began to caulk the ship.

“What do you think of it?”

Samah tensed at the unexpected intrusion. Cassius moved close behind her, his eyes roving the bustling port. That he was pleased to be home was evident in the proud timbre of his voice.

“It’s very large.”

How inadequate,
thought Samah. Nothing had prepared her for the magnificence that lay before her astonished eyes. Even the great Jerusalem paled in comparison, and she had always believed it to be the grandest city on the earth.

Cassius smiled slightly, cocking his head downward to see her face. “Much more imposing than Jerusalem, isn’t it?” he inquired, as though he had read her thoughts.

Samah nodded, but remained silent. Rome was indeed more impressive than Jerusalem, but Jerusalem had something that Rome did not. It had the almighty Jehovah. At least it had until His people turned their backs on Him and rejected His precious Son.

“Truth to tell, even in the great Rome, there is not much that can compare with the Temple Herod built in Jerusalem.” His breath gently stirred the hair on Samah’s cheek, and her hands clenched the ship’s rail.

“The Temple that is no more,” Samah contradicted softly.

Cassius sighed. “You are correct in saying so. It was a pity that it had to be destroyed.”

There was genuine regret in his voice. Samah turned her head slightly and found his face very close to hers. The growth on his chin gave him a rugged look that was oddly attractive. When her eyes met his, she saw something flash briefly through them, his look focusing momentarily on her lips. Her own eyes grew large, and she tried to move away from him, but the ship’s bulwark dug into her stomach, letting her know that she had nowhere to go. Sensing her tension, Cassius instantly moved from behind her to her side, his look once again focused on the city beyond.

“What will your people do now without their Temple?”

Samah’s face softened, and she looked to the azure blue sky. “God no longer lives in temples built by man.”

Puzzled, Cassius lifted a questioning brow. “Then where does your God live now?”

“In our hearts.” Samah answered him so softly that he had to bend to hear her.

Snorting, Cassius turned, leaning his back against the ship’s bulwark. “The priests’?”

Samah shook her head, suddenly reluctant to continue with the conversation. She glanced at him again, and realized that he expected an answer.

“No. God lives in the hearts of everyone who has accepted Jesus as Lord.”

“And Jesus is?”

“God’s Son.”

Sudden comprehension filled his features. “Ah, yes. I remember now. Your Christian religion.”

Samah wanted to say more but didn’t think now was the time. Already she could tell the tribune’s attention was on something else. Turning, he looked across the deck, his lips tilting into a small smile.

“Sentinel has never done well on the water.”

Samah followed his look and felt her heart go out to the poor beast. The dog’s eyes were filled with pure abject misery, his massive head lying on his outstretched front paws. It was hard to imagine a more pitiful sight.

Cassius reached to his feet, lifting the pack lying there, and the dog’s head instantly came up, eyes and ears alert. Cassius chuckled softly.

“Come, Boy. It’s time for us to go home.”

Lunging to his feet, Sentinel quickly reached their side, his huge tail moving back and forth. Cassius took Samah by the arm and led her to the wooden plank that reached to the dock. Struggling with her crutch, Samah felt her insides twist with sudden fear. She had to tell herself over and over again that Jehovah was with her no matter where she went. As she had told the tribune, He dwelt in her heart. This thought brought a measure of peace, and she was able to follow Cassius through the streets of Rome with a small amount of equanimity.

Although Cassius was not in uniform, it became obvious that he was well known by the many soldiers who saluted him along the way. Often he stopped to share a word with one of them. Their interest in her was obvious, but he declined to explain her presence. He kept his conversations brief.

When he reached the market, Cassius slowed his steps. He turned to Samah.

“Are you hungry?”

Surprised that he would consider her, Samah quietly agreed that she was. Nodding briefly, Cassius turned back to the shops around him.

“Let’s see. What can we get?”

He bypassed the tavern, knowing that it would be extremely crowded at this time of day. Since most of the poorer families had no kitchens of their own, they chose instead to get their meals at the local tavern.

The crowd mingled around them, the noise level increasing with each passing minute. Samah watched the people haggling at the vendor’s stalls, adding their purchases to already heaping baskets that they carried. It didn’t take her long to realize that most of those doing the carrying were slaves. It seemed that even the poorest people owned slaves of their own.

Several musicians played their instruments, their trumpets, tambourines, and lyres adding to the already surging din. People dropped coins into the small baskets at their feet. When Cassius passed them, they smiled hopefully at him. Digging a coin from his pouch, he dropped it in with the others. For some reason, this gave Samah an oddly warm feeling.

A long queue of men waited near a Roman with a basket of wheat. At Samah’s interested look, Cassius explained, “Those men have no jobs. The government gives them free wheat to support themselves and their families.”

Samah remembered the times that fellow Christians gave to a communal pool so that other Christians who were in want would not go without. Brothers and sisters cared for each other as Jesus had commanded. In doing for others, Jesus had said that they were doing also for Him. Having the government do so relieved the people of that obligation. She regretted that this was so, for the people missed out on one of Jehovah’s true blessings. The difference was, one was done by taxing the people severely, the other was done in love.

Cassius stopped beside a fruit vendor’s table. “How about a pomegranate?” he asked, lifting one up for inspection.

The bright fruit made Samah’s mouth water. She nodded her acceptance. Handing her the fruit, Cassius took one for himself, giving the shopkeeper the required coin.

Cassius polished his on his sleeve before taking a huge bite. The juice dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it away. There was laughter in his eyes when he looked at Samah delicately pecking at her fruit, but he said nothing.

Samah thanked the vendor for the fruit, and he quickly glanced at her in surprise. He continued to study her periodically, albeit surreptitiously. She could feel his regard, and wondered at his continued interest.

Cassius’s attention was suddenly caught by a ruckus across the street. He frowned.

“Wait here.” His command was brusque, and obviously meant for both her and Sentinel. Both watched him cross the street and become embroiled in an angry conversation with two other citizens.

Though the dog kept his attention riveted on Cassius, Samah turned back to study the vast array of colorful fruits on the counter, some she had never seen before. The vendor obligingly told her their names and what countries they originated in. He smiled at Samah, and she found herself returning his smile. There was something soothing about the young man, and his courtesy went beyond the bounds of vendor propriety. It wasn’t forced, but was actually an integral part of him.

He seemed to be studying Samah as thoroughly as she had studied his fruit. Growing uncomfortable under his perusal, she dropped her gaze.

“Pardon me,” he spoke softly, “but you don’t seem to be from these parts.”

Samah lifted her look to his face and found him intently watching her.

“I’m not,” she responded unwillingly

He swallowed hard, his throat moving up and down in agitation. He glanced quickly around him before lowering his voice. “If it would not offend you for me to say so,” he suggested hesitantly, “you sound like someone from Judea.”

The simple words had a profound effect on her, and one the vendor hadn’t expected. The sudden shock of the bold statement left Samah feeling suddenly lightheaded, the world reeling giddily around her. Placing a hand to her forehead, she tried to bring her world back into focus. Obviously the long travel and periods of fasting, mixed with the oppressive odors of Rome, were having an effect on her.

The vendor hurried out from behind his counter. “Are you all right?”

Samah stared at him blankly. Frowning, he hastily searched around him, finding a basket and turning it over.

“Here. Sit here.”

He reached to help Samah sit on the upturned basket, but a low rumble from Sentinel brought him suddenly upright. Glancing hesitantly at the dog, he warily bent until his face was even with Samah’s.

“My name is Jonah. If there is anything I can do. . .?”

He left the question hanging. Placing a hand on Sentinel’s bristling fur, Samah lifted suddenly bright eyes to the young man’s.

“Jonah. A Jewish name.”

A light seemed to fill the young man’s face. “Yes. I am Jewish.”

Wondering what the young man’s reaction would be, Samah lifted honest eyes to his.

“I am from Samaria.”

Jonah smiled. “I thought as much. Your eyes are a dead giveaway.”

Surprised, Samah stared at him wordlessly. Most Jews hated Samaritans with a passion. She had lived with such prejudice most of her life. Only among the Christian believers had she found the freedom to be accepted for who she was.

“Samah. What’s wrong?”

So engrossed had Samah been in her conversation with the young Jew that she had failed to hear Cassius arrive. He glared suspiciously from Jonah to Samah.

She stood unsteadily, swaying slightly. Cassius reached out and took her by the arm, his eyes darkened with worry. He made a tisking sound with his tongue.

“I should have realized. You’ll never make it to the villa in this condition. It’s too far.” He stood, lips pressed between thumb and forefinger, pondering his dilemma. “I can’t get you a cart until the sun goes down, nor a chariot for that matter.”

Jonah stared wordlessly from one to the other. Noticing Samah watching him, he quickly looked away.

Cassius addressed himself to Jonah. “Is it all right with you if she stays here until I can arrange for a litter?”

Jonah looked surprised. “Of course.”

Cassius turned his look back to Samah. “Wait here. I’ll return shortly.” His narrowed gaze went slowly over Jonah from head to toe. He pressed his lips together tightly. “Sentinel will keep you safe.” The words seemed more of a warning for the young vendor.

Three pair of eyes watched him vanish among the crowd. Jonah glanced at Samah and then at Sentinel still watching where his master had disappeared.

“Please, sit down.”

Samah did so, her legs already wobbling beneath her. Jonah returned to his position behind the counter. Whereas he had been friendly before, he was now reserved. Samah wondered at his sudden reticence. Though she tried to engage him in conversation, his answers were brief and curt. Aggravated, she finally stopped trying and concentrated instead on the sights and scenes around her.

Several people came to Jonah’s stall to purchase fruit. His attitude was always the same, regardless of the person’s position. He treated everyone with gentle courtesy. Obviously he was well liked by the people, for his stall was never empty for long.

Trying to stay out of the way, Samah began to search the area around her, hoping that Cassius would return soon. When Jonah reached to remove a cluster of grapes hanging above, Samah noticed the symbol carved onto the post of the stall. The fish emblem had been hidden by the cluster of grapes, but now was very evident.

Sucking in a breath, she stood quickly. Jonah’s look followed hers, and he jerked his gaze back to hers, his face going deathly white. Samah was thankful that there were no customers.

“You’re a Christian!”

If anything, Jonah’s face paled further at Samah’s breathless declaration. His eyes were wide with fear, his lips opening and closing silently.

Samah’s joyous eyes met Jonah’s frightened ones. “Praise Jehovah! You’re a Christian!”

Jonah’s shoulders slumped with relief. He glanced about him and moved closer to where Samah sat. Leaning over the counter, he lowered his voice.

“I thought you were a Christian! Somehow I just knew.”

“But why didn’t you say something?”

Jonah’s face colored hotly, and he quickly looked away. “The Roman you were with. . .”

Samah understood his confusion. Placing her hand on his where it rested on the counter, she told him, “I am his slave. We have just arrived from Jerusalem.”