A Stray Drop of Blood (12 page)

~*~

Abigail closed her eyes momentarily and drew in a deep breath of the cool night air.

Elizabeth reclined beside her. “I think he is incredibly handsome.”

Eyes open again, she looked curiously at her friend. “Who?”

“
Jason.”

Abigail sighed. “Elizabeth, you are married now.”

“
Married, yes. But I am not blind.” Her friend bit her lip almost playfully and leaned against the wall of the house. “I can just imagine what it would feel like to have him kiss me.”

“
Elizabeth!”

Elizabeth laughed at her horror. “You should see yourself, Abigail. How can it be possible that you have never thought of such things? You are older than I. Even before I was given to Cleon, I wondered. And now that I am a wife, I realize how wonderful it can be to know a man. Although Cleon is not the most satisfying.”

Abigail covered her ears with her hands and closed her eyes, more to get her point across than because she was truly shocked by the conversation. “I would retain my purity, Elizabeth. I am yet a maiden.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, her impatience clear. “You cannot be that innocent. No one is. Every woman wonders. Who is the object of your dreams, if not Jason? Andrew?”

She moved her hands to cover her face, resting them on her elbows. “Elizabeth, I do not wish to speak of this.”

“
Why not? Come now. Which of them would you chose?”

She did not want to think about it. Thinking about it could only cause problems. Andrew was her friend, someone she had to work with everyday, and to have entertained such thoughts, however briefly, would cause tension. And the young master was a stranger–and the young master. She could not think of him like that, either. But Elizabeth was in a prodding mood, so she said, “I should hope that, if I am to marry, it will be to an established man of the city. An upstanding Israelite who loves our God and would appreciate the efforts Mistress has put into making me a good wife.”

“
Abigail, you are a boring girl. You
want
an old man? Well, then take mine. I’ll take one of yours.”

Abigail flushed. “They are not mine. And you cannot simply trade husbands.”

“
Pity.”

Abigail studied her friend, wondering what had happened to the Elizabeth she had thought she knew. It seemed that one day, they were two girls talking about absolutely nothing and having fun doing it, and now they spent their time arguing over the proprieties of men and masters. Ever since that day almost two months ago, every time they had met, it had ended in this way. She wished for nothing more than a resurgence of their past comradery.

The door behind them opened at that moment, sparing Abigail response. Andrew came out and sat down on the other side of Abigail, blessedly oblivious to the conversation that had just passed. “How have you been faring, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth’s dark brows still had a bit of an ironic cock to them. “Well, thank you. But if you will excuse me, I should go attend my husband.” She pushed herself to her feet and left them.

Abigail sighed.

“
You look upset,” Andrew observed in a soft voice, gaze on her profile.

She shook her head. “It is Elizabeth. I know not what to say to her anymore. Ever since she was given to Cleon, our conversations have been on topics of men.”

Andrew breathed a laugh. “You are women now, Abigail. It is natural for conversational topics to change in that way.”

But Abigail shook her head again. “It is not the topic in itself, Andrew. It is Elizabeth. I fear for her.” She turned to meet her friend’s eyes, certain her concern was obvious. “She is not content with her husband and does not mind telling me so. I fear that she will do something irresponsible. And I do not wish to watch my friend destroy her life.”

Andrew arched his brows. “And?”

He knew her too well. “And,” Abigail hesitated, finally drawing in a deep breath and letting it out again. “Do you think Master and Mistress will give me in marriage soon?”

“
Yes.” He did not so much as hesitate.

“
I fear that as well.” Her eyes focused on the middle distance. “I know Mistress thinks of me as a daughter. I know she wants what is best for me. But I do not wish to leave her. I am comfortable in my life, Andrew. I love her and Master and you and Dinah and Simon. I do not know how I could leave to start my own house.”

He opened his mouth only to close it again and pick up her hand. “Dear one, you are stronger than you think yourself. And what is that saying about borrowing worries?”

She smiled at the familiar rebuke and squeezed his hand in appreciation of the reassurance. “You are a good friend. I have been blessed. How many women have such friends as I? Many of the men I see in the markets treat even free women as though they are slaves, shameful to be seen with.”

“
Many men are fools.” He gave her a small smile. “They think that being head of the family makes them more superior than they are. They forget the virtues of Abigail, Ester, Ruth and think only of Delilah, Jezebel.”

“
You have been taught in the same synagogues as they. How is it you have gleaned the truth and they a falsehood from the teachings?”

His smile turned to a grin. “Perhaps I am just superior to them. What would Aristotle say to that?”

She had to laugh. “Nothing worth quoting. I believe Moses was right. The slave is not an inferior being, just one that has experienced misfortune. Joseph was a slave, after all, as were all the children of Israel to Egypt.”

“
And now to Rome.” His words were softer even than before, his gaze on the ground. “The difference is only that Rome lets us
think
we are, if not free, not slaves. We pay them in taxes rather than labor, but the result is the same. But it is that delusion, I think, that has turned so many into fools. They think they can buy their advantage. But they, too, will pay.”

Abigail could only look at him, her hand still in his, and wonder what exactly he meant.

“
I was speaking with Vetimus today,” he continued. “He has been following the teachings of the Nazarene. He says the rabbi was teaching recently of the desolation of Jerusalem.”

Her brows knit. “Its destruction, you mean?”

He shook his head. “I think not. Simply its inability to accept Messiah. Vetimus said he expressed grief over the inhabitants of the city, for it was as if their house were left standing empty.”

She was silent for a moment. “And do you believe this Nazarene that would have himself proclaimed Messiah?”

Andrew sighed, rubbed his thumb absently over her knuckles. The action made warmth steal up her arm. The influence of Elizabeth’s questions, no doubt. “I do not know about Messiah being him. But that just makes me wonder if he is perhaps right. If perhaps I would not know what Messiah looked like when I saw him. He has performed amazing feats. Walking on water. Healing the sick. Casting out demons.”

“
Supposedly.”

“
He healed Claron.”

That Abigail could not dispute. “Yes. He healed Claron. He has also gotten the Sanhedrin so angry that they are ready to kill him themselves. He spoke in the temple, when he is not truly even a rabbi. He is a carpenter.”

“
As is Jehovah,” Andrew replied quietly. “Look at all he has fashioned.”

Abigail studied him, smiled. “I think you want to believe in him. I think these stories have struck something within you.”

“
It is not merely that.” He shifted a bit before meeting her gaze. “They have hit something within Master. And if my lord would put his faith in a carpenter from Nazareth and proclaim him the Son of God, then I trust it is because his wisdom has shown him something I have not seen in full.”

This gave her pause. “The master believes him?”

“
The master wants to, I think. The master is searching for something that will bridge the gap between him, a Gentile, and the Law. Did not you yourself say that was the task of Messiah? Well, this Jesus is offering it.”

“
Yes, but anyone can offer it.
I
can offer it. That does not mean I have the authority to make it good.”

Andrew turned to face her, his deep eyes reflecting all the thoughts that swarmed through his mind. “I have no answers, my friend, only questions. But it seems to me, if no one ever asked, they would never be taught. Perhaps this carpenter is Messiah. Perhaps he is not. Perhaps there
is
no Messiah foretold. All I know is that the Law, while good, is impossible to keep fully. I have sinned. You have sinned. Master has sinned. And how do we know if all the good we have done has been enough to outweigh the bad? How can anyone fallen hope to join his ancestors in the bosom of Abraham? Our God will forgive if we ask, yes, but how? Who takes the guilt?”

“
Why would anyone have to?” she returned. “Why can it not just vanish? Omnipotence can surely accomplish that.”

Andrew sighed. “I know not. I will wait, watch, listen to Master as he listens to Vetimus, who will keep following this would-be Christ. And in the meantime, we should go in. Mistress will wish your presence soon.”

Abigail nodded and let him use the hand he still held to assist her to her feet. She would not worry about this Jesus of Nazareth. She had her own concerns. Best to leave the man to the discussions of the men for now and concentrate on her own life. There was no need to be borrowing troubles.

Chapter Eight

By the end of Passover, Jason was ready to go back to Rome. He had told himself countless times over the preceding months that his distaste for Hebrew traditions had been more imagination than fact. But after being thrown back into the gut of their beliefs, he realized he had not exaggerated in his memories at all. The same story told again, the same words recited, the same food on the table. The same celebrating in the streets, as if Israel had just escaped Egypt.

It had been centuries ago! he wanted to scream. It does not matter anymore!

But he kept it to himself, now. He would not insult his mother anymore. He would not make her fear for his immortal soul by expressing his doubt in her God. Besides, it was basically the same Hades that was offered to the Jews as to the Greeks. What did it matter? He would just bathe in the River Lethe, sweet waters of oblivion, and never be bothered again by these petty things of life.

Of course, Rome had their remembrances, too. Although Divine Augustus had deemed them not proud enough of their heritage so had ordered the poet Virgil to write his
Aeneid
, figuring that if the Greeks had the
Iliad
and
Odyssey
to proclaim their brilliant heritage, so should Romans. And if Jason preferred the original Greek stories to their more recent counterparts, it was probably because he had read them first, and Virgil’s masterpiece had just seemed a copy. Either way, it was better than these ridiculous recitations of Law.

But it was over now. Passover would not come again for another year. That, indeed, was something to praise God for. At least he had only ordered the observation to be annual.

“
Master Visibullis?”

Jason turned at the voice, his eyes falling on a man of greater girth than height. His skin was oily, sweat beaded on his brow, but his eyes looked honest enough. “Sido, I presume?”

The man nodded. “What news have you for our lord Asinius?”

Jason smiled. “Nothing much. His son has been adjusting well, staying out of trouble, getting to know his troops. He has been sober and abstinent, as far as I know.”

Sido grinned. “We will see how long that lasts. My bet is on a month at the most.”

Jason chuckled. “You give him much credit. I say another few days, and he will have located the most attractive harlot in Judea and convinced her to donate her services free of charge.”

“
I am certain our lord Asinius would expect nothing less. Titus is, after all, a man.”

“
Indeed.” And a man had needs. He would have to do something about his own soon enough.

Sido reached into his money bag and pulled out a few coins of gold. “Your wage.”

Jason shook his head. “It is too much for nothing of interest.”

Sido shrugged. “It is what I was told to give you. If you do not want it, I will keep it myself.”

Jason took the coins and dropped them into his own purse. “Tell your master that his generosity outweighs his wisdom, Sido.”

The man barked a laugh. “I would rather live to see another day, Lord. I will see you in a month.”

“
Indeed. May I have no more to tell you then.”

“
Indeed. Farewell.”

Jason nodded and left the meeting place, heading back into the walls of Jerusalem. It was his day off; this evening he would be on watch, the next day he would rest to be ready for his normal routine the following morning. For now, he was free, so he figured he would browse through the markets before going home. He had barely reached them when he heard a familiar voice hailing him.