Valeria’s Cross (3 page)

V
aleria was haunted by the words spoken by the old monk, but she was also intrigued, so she accompanied Prisca without a word of protest when they returned to the monastery. Their first studies went so well that their group returned daily to learn from the monks. With all the miracles recorded in the Bible, it was hard for Valeria not to believe in this Savior. Before long, both she and Prisca made the decision to convert to Christianity and accepted the forgiveness that the monks explained had been purchased for them through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Valeria was eager to meet other young Christians, so she accepted an invitation from Cornelia, the daughter of a respected Roman senator. The girls had met at a luncheon hosted by Cornelia’s mother in honor of Prisca and Valeria, and they had become fast friends. Now they were attending an athletic event in Thebes at an arena similar to the Coliseum in Rome, though it was far more ornate and much smaller. The finest athletes in the area would compete for the prizes, and the girls were excited to join the other spectators.

They climbed the steps of the large circular arena and found a seat in the center mezzanine. Valeria instructed her bodyguards to watch from above so she would not attract a lot of attention from the crowd. From her vantage point, Valeria was able to focus on a young Roman soldier who had successfully completed a race on one of the tracks below. The crowd cheered wildly for the handsome athlete, as Valeria strained her neck to get a better look. Never had she seen such a handsome man! Though tall and slender, every muscle of his bronzed body appeared to have been carved by a master sculptor. While most of the Roman soldiers had their hair closely cropped to their heads, this one’s shiny black hair curled around his face, framing dark eyes that seemed to sparkle with sunbeams, even from a distance. When he stepped up on the podium to accept his medallion, his smile ignited Valeria’s heart.

“Do you know the athlete who just won the race?” she asked Cornelia.

“No, I do not,” Cornelia swooned, “but he is the most handsome man I have ever seen.”

“Just remember, I saw him first,” Valeria said.

“But what if he wants me?” Cornelia teased.

“You cannot have him,” Valeria laughed.

“Should we not let him choose?” Cornelia smiled, raising a brow.

“Absolutely not. He is mine!”

“Well, I shall not sit here and wait for him to come to us,” Cornelia announced. “I am going down to the field to meet him.”

“I dare you,” Valeria challenged, and then laughed in amazement as she watched her friend depart. If Cornelia wanted the handsome young man’s attention, she should have no problem getting it. She was a beauty, tall and lithe, with a complexion
the color of warm honey, highlighted by her rosy cheeks and lips and eyes the color of topaz. Her blonde hair was braided and tucked neatly into a chignon at the nape of her neck. As she sashayed down the steps of the stadium, her diaphanous linen gown, covered with a gold striped tunic, lapped at her slender ankles and attracted many admiring looks from within the crowd.

Part way down, Cornelia turned back. Smiling mischievously, she waved, her gold and topaz bangles jangling at her wrist. Then she continued down the steps two at a time.

Valeria watched, envying Cornelia’s courage. Her friend would probably walk right down to the field and introduce herself to the attractive athlete. But then she noticed a throng of admirers had surrounded the handsome young man. It seemed Cornelia must wait her turn.

Valeria turned to a group of Egyptian girls seated in front of her. Perhaps one of them might know his name. She studied the bronze-skinned girls until she had picked out the friendliest of the bunch, a pretty Egyptian with raven hair that swept up into an intricate knot atop her head, with bangs that fringed her dark eyes. Fashionably dressed in an elegant lime green sarong, she was so animated that when she spoke to her friends, her emerald and gold hoop earrings danced about her ears.

Valeria tapped the stunning girl on the shoulder and introduced herself.

“Nice to meet you,” the girl answered in response. “I am Nanu.” She brushed Valeria’s cheek with a kiss, the customary greeting.

Valeria skipped the pleasantries and got right to the point. “Do you, by chance, know the name of the Egyptian athlete who just won the race?”

When the group of girls broke into laughter, Valeria was puzzled. “What is so amusing?” It was at times like this that Valeria felt humiliated and longed to tell her offenders she was their emperor’s daughter. But this new spirit who lived inside her heart nudged her before she had a chance to react.

“Forgive us,” Nanu explained, once she caught her breath. “Yes, we know him—very well.”

Valeria’s heart soared. “Who is he? What is his name?” Suddenly she felt the heat creep up her neck and into her face. “Oh, dear, I hope he is not your sweetheart.”

The group of girls giggled, but Valeria paid them no mind until Nanu said, “I adore him, but alas, he is not my paramour; Mauritius is my brother.” The girl touched Valeria’s arm. “No need to feel embarrassed. There is scarcely a young woman in this stadium who has not declared her love for him.”

“I should have known,” Valeria replied, studying the girl’s face. “The resemblance is … remarkable. You are as beautiful as he is handsome.”

“Thank you.” Nanu’s black eyes flashed, as she, in turn, studied Valeria. “You are stunning yourself. Such a lovely face! And your hair … it is the color of the Nubian lions.”

“Nubian lions?” Valeria paused to think. “Why do they sound familiar?”

Nanu lowered her eyes. “During Nero’s reign, the Romans transported the lions from the nearby Nubian jungles to fight the Christians in the Coliseum.”

Valeria winced. “Oh, how awful!”

“Trust me, it is not an export Egypt is proud of, especially those of us who are Christians. But Nubian lions are the most beautiful creatures you will ever see … from a distance, of course.”

Valeria nodded. Encouraged by Nanu’s friendly manner, she asked, “Does your brother have a sweetheart?”

“Oh, no. Mauritius has many admirers, but he is far too committed to his Savior and to Rome to seek a wife. He has no time for courtship.”

Valeria’s heart leapt at the realization that Mauritius was a Christian, though she tried to temper her excitement. “What is your brother’s position in the Roman Army?”

“He is the captain of the renowned Theban Legion.”

“My father says that the finest Roman armies are here in Egypt.” Valeria had chosen her words carefully, not yet ready to reveal her identity; that confession would come soon enough, particularly if she was blessed to meet Nanu’s brother.

“Your father is right. There is no finer legion in the Roman Empire than the Thebans. It is comprised entirely of Coptic Christians.”

“Really? My mother and I are studying Christianity under the Coptic monks at a monastery in Aswan.”

“Mauritius and my fiancé, Baraka, have studied with them for years, until recently, when they had to undergo their rigorous military training.”

Her hopes of running into Mauritius at the monastery dashed, Valeria noted, “You are so young to become engaged.”

“I am fourteen, which is not considered young in our culture. Girls in Egypt marry as young as twelve or thirteen. Baraka and I plan to marry before the legion is called to battle.”

Surprised by the Egyptian girl’s friendliness, Valeria thanked her. Then, just as Nanu said she hoped they would meet again, Cornelia returned and announced, “His name is—”

Before Cornelia could utter his name, the group of Egyptian girls sang out in unison, “Mauritius,” and then laughed, leaving Cornelia looking baffled.

Valeria blushed again. “Nanu, this is my friend, Cornelia. And Cornelia, this is Nanu.” She paused, and then added, “She is Mauritius’ sister.”

Cornelia’s eyebrows lifted in obvious surprise, but she recovered quickly, and after the introductions were made and the girls had chatted for a few minutes, Valeria and Cornelia returned to their seats.

“Did you meet him?” Valeria asked as soon as they were alone.

Cornelia shook her head. “Someone told me his name, but there were far too many admirers surrounding him for me to get closer. I only got a tiny glimpse of him, but he is even more handsome up close. There was an intensity about him that is difficult to put into words. But I can tell you this: his eyes exude love. When he looked my way, I felt … like I really mattered.”

“He must have liked you,” Valeria admitted, feeling somewhat slighted.

“No, it was not in any personal way. There was just so much love and kindness in his eyes. Forgive me if I sound sacrilegious, but when he looked my way, I had a strange sensation, as though I were looking into the eyes of Jesus.”

“Oh, I should have gone with you!”

“Why? You met his sister, which is far better. Did she agree to introduce you to him?”

Valeria shook her head. “Nanu was adamant that Mauritius had no time for courting. She explained he was far too busy with his military training and his dedication to his faith.”

“Did you even ask her to introduce you to him?” Cornelia prompted, propping her hand on her hip.

When Valeria blushed yet again, Cornelia sighed. “I have a lot to teach you, especially about men, my friend.”

Valeria felt her defenses rise. “I know about men!”

Cornelia smirked. “Is that so? Have you ever kissed a man? Or even flirted with one?”

“Eugenia accused me of flirting with Alara, one of the younger monks at the monastery.”

“That is nothing to boast about, Valeria.”

“But he was so handsome.”

“Forget the monk. Here is what you do about Mauritius. You must persuade his sister to invite you to her home.”

“How will I do that? I do not know if I will even see her again.”

Cornelia leaned close and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “Ask one of the servants to find out where Nanu lives, and then send a messenger to her home with an invitation for her and her mother to have lunch at the palace with you and your mother. Enclose a note explaining that you would like to return the kindness she showed at the athletic event.”

“But what if they refuse?”

Cornelia rolled her eyes. “No one will refuse an invitation from the empress and her daughter. Besides, every one in the area is curious to see inside the palace. I know that firsthand because everyone nags me to tell them about it, now that they know I have been inside with you.” Cornelia laughed. “Believe me, they will come.”

“But I do not want Nanu or Mauritius to know my identity yet. I want him to care about me for who I am, and not because I am the emperor’s daughter.”

“Nanu seems a bright girl. She has probably already discovered your identity. Besides, do you want to lose your chance at Mauritius? Listen, if you had seen those women down below, clamoring for a chance to speak with him, you would not hesitate. You must use any moral measure to attract his attention.”

“But what good will that do if his only interest is God and country?”

“After one look at you, my dear, he will quickly change his mind.”

Valeria hesitated. “I will consider it.”

“There is no time for that. Rumor has it that the Theban Legion could be called to Gaul any day now. Worse yet, what if your parents decide it is time to arrange a marriage for you?” Cornelia put one hand over her brow and fanned herself with the other. “I can think of nothing worse than to be married to a man you do not love.”

Valeria shuddered, but as the emperor’s daughter, it was imperative for her to maintain her dignity and pride. Another thought flitted into her mind, and she smiled. She had found the answer. Just this week Valeria and her mother were studying prayer at the monastery. If she could not finagle an introduction to Mauritius from Nanu, she would ask God to arrange one.

5

T
he next morning, Valeria awakened to the sight of her mother standing at her bedchamber door, waving a letter in her hand.

“A messenger arrived at dawn with news from your father.”

Valeria threw back the bed linens and jumped up. “Is Father all right?”

“I assure you, he is fine, but he has asked us to return to Nicomedia at once.”

With no attempt to hide her disappointment, Valeria plunked back down on her bed. “But we cannot leave now; I love Egypt!” Just yesterday Valeria had seen the man she was sure she wanted to marry. They simply could not leave before she had a chance to meet him.

Her mother sat down beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders. “I understand. I, too, would prefer not to leave.”

“Then why must we go? Can you not convince Father that we should stay in Egypt? He told us Nicomedia was unsafe.”

“The circumstances have changed over the past few weeks. Your father has asked us to return so we can host the victorious general, Galerius, at the palace.”

“Oh, him.” Valeria was not impressed and demonstrated her feelings with a careless shrug.

Her mother’s look was stern. “Do you understand the importance of these battles in Gaul? General Galerius and his legion won the first few skirmishes, and your father wants him to take some time off to relax and enjoy himself before the major battle begins.”

Valeria sighed. “The general is all anyone talks about these days. But why can he and his family not stay at the palace without us? There are plenty of servants who can take care of them.”

“Who would entertain them?”

“The citizens of Nicomedia would be delighted to host a war hero, especially one so famous.”

“This may be true, but your father would never allow it. And General Galerius would be highly offended if we were not in residence during his visit.”

Valeria stuck out her lower lip, a gesture that obviously did not go unnoticed by her mother.

“And you, young lady, had better tuck that lip back in and practice your bow, because we are going home to entertain our famous guest.”

Valeria swallowed a grin, determined not to yield to her mother’s persuasive arguments. “Why not invite General Galerius here? The weather in Thessalonica is dreadful this time of year. Here the commander and his family could enjoy the sunshine and the scenery, not to mention the fresh fruit and vegetables from the garden.”

“You sound like our Egyptian guide,” Prisca quipped, as she tucked an unruly lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “But it
is apparent that you have inherited your father’s brains, young lady. Hosting the general and his family in Egypt is a brilliant suggestion.”

Prisca was successful in persuading the emperor to change his mind, so she and Valeria remained in Egypt. A month later, Galerius and his family joined them in Elephantine.

Soon after the arrival of the general and his family, Valeria passed Galerius in the hallway. Was it her imagination, or had he deliberately brushed his body against hers?

“Excuse me, my lady,” he apologized. “What a beautiful woman you have become, a peach ripe for picking in the springtime. How old are you?”

Valeria blushed, her answer barely audible. “Fourteen.” It was the first time anyone had referred to her as a woman.

“The beautiful daughter of the great emperor must have scores of suitors.”

Valeria dared not answer; Galerius moved closer. He reached for her hand, which was clenched into a fist at her side, then lifted it to his lips. Valeria shivered at the unfamiliar sensation, a strange mixture of revulsion and excitement.

“Ah, my kiss has caused you to tremble,” Galerius chuckled. Valeria struggled to breathe and to keep her hand far from his lips, but she was unable to extricate it from his grip.

“I really must go,” Valeria pleaded. “Eugenia is waiting for me.”

As if in answer to an unspoken prayer, Eugenia suddenly appeared in the hallway. Galerius dropped Valeria’s hand, and the poor girl sighed with relief.

“I have been searching for you,” Eugenia announced, her voice authoritative. “Your tutor is waiting in the library.”

Following Eugenia, Valeria hurried away, relieved to escape the clutches of Galerius.

“What did he say to you?” Eugenia asked when they were out of hearing distance.

“That I was pretty.” Valeria laughed nervously. She decided not to make an issue of the uncomfortable encounter because of Eugenia’s tendency to overreact. From now on, however, Valeria determined she would avoid their guest.

“Do not allow the general’s honey mouth to flatter you,” Eugenia warned. “He may be handsome, but it is inappropriate for you to be alone with such a charmer—especially a married one.”

Valeria was incredulous. “You find him attractive? And charming?”

Eugenia blushed. “There is no disputing that fact.”

“Well, I find him revolting.”

This time Eugenia laughed. “Oh, you are still such a little girl, dear one!”

Following her encounter with Galerius, Valeria avoided the hallways and enjoyed breakfast alone in her private garden. Though she noticed him every morning, watching her from his bedroom window, she managed to evade him. Yet his stares made her uncomfortable. Even during dinner he spied on her out of the corner of his eye, but she pretended not to notice.

This particular morning, Valeria hurried down the marble steps into the magnificent gardens surrounding the palace. Servants appeared out of nowhere, as Valeria glided toward the table for breakfast. Eager to please, they fluttered around the princess as she took her seat on the divan before the table
laden with delicacies. A dark male servant filled her tumbler with grape juice from a golden pitcher. Valeria smiled in gratitude, then pointed to a sumptuous apricot that crowned the platter of fruit. Within seconds, it appeared in slices upon her plate.

A loud voice boomed throughout the garden—Galerius! Valeria ducked behind the flowers arranged in a cobalt vase on the table, but to her surprise, Galerius did not even glance her way when he and his entourage passed by. Instead, he proceeded through the garden, flanked by four bodyguards, toward a stranger who had just arrived atop a magnificent ebony horse.

In the short time Galerius had been their guest at the palace, Valeria and the servants had come to despise him. And yet Valeria enjoyed the company of his daughter, also named Valeria, which caused some confusion in the household. The girl was only a year or so younger than Valeria, and they both enjoyed the company of the Egyptian youth. But the younger Valeria’s parents, both pagans, strictly forbade their daughter to accompany the group of women to the monastery.

Valeria strained now to see the visitor in the garden, who had dismounted and stood erect, waiting. When she realized he was a soldier, she called to a nearby servant, “Official business? Perhaps another war has broken out.” The servant, appearing disinterested, nodded and set a bowl of honeyed pottage in front of her. She picked up her spoon but set it down again, squinting as the mid-morning sun glinted off the metal helmet held in the hand of the tall, broad-shouldered warrior. There was something about him …

Valeria rose from the table and peered through the box-woods for a closer look at the young soldier who waited among the roses. His back was turned halfway toward her, his eyes
fixed on some distant point of reference. Was that a cross emblazoned upon his helmet? She peered closer. Yes, it was!

Although there were many Christians in the Roman Army, Galerius’ hatred for them was well-known. Why would he choose to meet with this particular soldier? If the general had agreed to see him, Valeria presumed this young man was a distinguished warrior, which intrigued her all the more.

Though she could not see his full face from her vantage point, the outline of the handsome stranger’s aquiline features and his muscular build made her heart flutter. She thought he looked like a living statue of Apollo, and though she was tempted to stay where she was until he turned and revealed his face, she convinced herself to return to the table. There was no sense risking attracting Galerius’ attention. Besides, she would still have a nice view of the attractive soldier from the divan.

Lifting her goblet, she sipped the grape juice, hoping her pulse would slow and her hands would stop trembling. Excitement churned in the pit of her stomach, and the strange and unfamiliar sensation frightened her. Perhaps this soldier, unlike the athlete she had seen a month ago, was interested in marriage. The visitor remained oblivious to her presence, so she took full advantage of her brief invisibility to study him, trying to imagine his thoughts. Was he remembering his last battle, or anticipating the next? Did he have a wife who longed for him at home while he was away at battle? The thought disturbed her, so much so that she quickly and quietly returned to her earlier spot among the bushes.

When Galerius approached the soldier, Valeria ducked so he would not see her. From there, she watched the young man fall to his knees, cross his right arm over his chest, and pound his heart with his fist in a salute to a superior officer.

Galerius motioned for the soldier to stand. Both men reached out their arms and touched their fingertips in the traditional Roman greeting. Valeria listened intently while he addressed the young visitor. “Captain Mauritius, the great Emperor Diocletian has summoned your Theban legion into battle in Gaul. Are you prepared?”

Mauritius! Could it be? Valeria’s heart banged against her ribs. She had nearly given up hope of meeting him … and yet, she had prayed, had she not? Now God had brought him to her garden!

Valeria watched the men converse until Galerius strode away, perhaps on his way to the Great Temple of Ramses to make his daily sacrifices. She abandoned her meal and hurried to the other side of the hedges. This could be the only opportunity she would have to speak with Mauritius, who had resumed his pensive pose, possibly contemplating his new orders while he waited for a stable hand to fetch his horse.

The closer Valeria got, the more handsome the soldier appeared. As daughter of the Roman emperor, her privileged life had afforded her introductions to hundreds of rulers and kings, but she thought Mauritius far more regal than any man she had ever met.

Of course, she had no intention of admitting that to him. For now Valeria would be content to hear his voice. She had heard so much about Mauritius since the day she had seen him in the arena, but they had never met—until now.

Valeria stood behind the bushes for a moment, mustering up her courage to speak to the captain. At last she stepped forward and cleared her throat. “Captain Mauritius?” Her voice squeaked, causing her cheeks to flush with embarrassment, but she stood her ground.

Valeria had expected Mauritius to jolt from his reverie and spin around in the direction of her voice, but he did not.
Slowly he turned, as if he had known all along that she was there, watching him. Perhaps he had.

Mauritius smiled, revealing the whitest teeth she had ever seen. His dark eyes twinkled with a delight that appeared close to amusement, and he dipped his head in a slight bow.

“Captain Mauritius, at your service.” He chuckled. “And who might you be, lovely lady?”

Valeria could not speak. His eyes! Valeria had never seen any quite like them. It was as though he could see inside her soul. And his voice! Joy resounded in his words, as smooth and warm as honey, yet authoritative, as she would have expected from a man in his position. If she had thought he was attractive from a distance, he was more so now that he faced her with his square jaw and chiseled features, his dark curls moving slightly in the breeze. The golden cross that hung from a heavy chain around his neck sparkled in the sunlight.

“I asked your name,” he repeated softly.

Still Valeria could not utter a single word.

“Please, do not be afraid,” he coaxed, holding out his hand.

She offered her trembling hand in return. Her mouth felt dry, and she wondered if she would be able to speak. She cleared her throat.

“I … am … Valeria. I am delighted to meet you.”

“And so am I … delighted to meet you.” His smile seemed warmer now, more genuine, as he stepped closer, lifting her hand to his lips for a kiss of greeting and respect. His kiss produced the same strange sensation she had felt when Galerius kissed it, only this time it was not commingled with revulsion.