A Stray Drop of Blood (19 page)

“
Titus. This is Abigail.”

“
So I assumed.” His eyes still roved over her, and he smirked when she flushed under his perusal. “And now I see the modesty that has been so acclaimed. I admit it, Jason. Your woman is enticing. Are you quite certain you will not share her?”

Abigail’s offended gaze flew to the ground, and she stepped closer to Jason’s side. The unconcious trust warmed him. Putting a reassuring hand on her back, he sent his friend a reproving gaze. “Titus, must you be a total reprobate? Come, Abigail, I will walk with you back to the edge of the markets.”

Titus fell in beside them, too, and the three walked the short distance in silence. Jason murmured a farewell to Abigail, who said something similar and hurried off toward home. He and Titus stood and watched her.

“
And Titus?” Jason said as she rounded a building and disappeared from sight. “You most certainly would
not
have taken her yourself.”

Titus laughed. “I suppose we shall never know.”

They turned together and headed back into the crowd.

Chapter Thirteen

Abigail knew something was wrong when it was not Elizabeth waiting on Julia, but another woman, older and obviously unfamiliar with her mistress’s needs. Abigail had to forcibly keep from wincing when the woman almost spilled red wine on Julia’s white stola.

“
Leave me, you clumsy fool!” Julia waved the slave from her presence with a slash of her hand. She widened her eyes and inclined her head toward Abigail, as if in silent commiseration. “Abigail, I am certain Elizabeth would like to see you, if you wish to leave.”

Ester gave a nod of acquiescence, so Abigail dipped her head and slipped from the room. Not knowing where else to look for the friend she had not seen in weeks, Abigail headed to the room she knew she shared with her husband. Arriving at the crudely hewn door, she knocked.

The door opened, and Elizabeth stood silhouetted there. Upon seeing Abigail, she smiled and drew her into an embrace. “My friend! I am so glad you are here.”

“
What is wrong?” Abigail let herself be drawn into the room. A small latticed window allowed some light in, and she glanced around to find the space disheveled.

“
Cleon died,” Elizabeth stated casually.

Abigail’s jaw dropped, and she immediately looked her friend up and down. “I am so sorry, Elizabeth. I did not guess. You are not in mourning.”

Elizabeth wrinkled up her nose in distaste. “I despise those awful, coarse things. I wear them when I leave my room, of course, but I just cannot force myself into them for the entire day.” She sat and invited Abigail to join her, curling her legs up underneath her as if preparing for a cozy little chat. “But Julia has granted me a week with no duties, so I can stay in here as much as I want, anyway. Was that not kind of her?”

“
Very.” Abigail settled as questions pushed their way forward. “Elizabeth, when did he pass away?”

“
Two days ago.”

“
And you did not send for me?” Abigail did not know if she was offended or grateful. Two days ago, she was still trying to smooth out relations between her new master and his parents, a task that had proven beyond her skills. Jason had apologized to his mother, but taking back the words he had spoken did nothing to erase the sting they had caused.

Elizabeth looked surprised at the suggestion. “Of course not, dear. He was given a Roman ceremony, and you would not have felt comfortable.”

“
But I would have come for you.” She picked up her friend’s hand and tried desperately to feel now the attachment to this girl that she had felt not so long ago.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I did not need any support, Abigail. Really, it was quite a relief. He had been ill and weak for a fortnight, and I was exhausted from tending him. He was old and ready to die.”

Abigail had never felt such utter appal. She gazed for several long, deathly silent moments at this creature she could not quite feel any love for. “Elizabeth, he was your
husband
.”

“
I knew you would lecture me.” Far from looking uncomfortable, she smiled. “And I wonder that you have the gall. I heard that Jason has taken you to his bed. Not quite the virtuous little maid any longer, are you?”

Abigail flushed with heat. “It was not my choice. But even so, I am his now, so I will honor him. You would do well to learn loyalty for yourself.”

“
I have.” Elizabeth practically purred with self-satisfaction, it seemed to Abigail, and she could not begin to imagine what caused it. “It is just that my loyalty does not lie with a corpse. I pledge myself only to the living.”

Abigail’s eyes slid shut in dismay. “What have you done, Elizabeth?”

“
Followed your example, of course.” Her sweet tone bit like acid. “I gave myself to my master.”

“
Elizabeth! When did you do this? When you were married, or after, when you should have been cloistered in mourning?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes again and pushed herself up to pace the close space of her room. “Yesterday, Abigail. I was not still married. And it was not as though I threw myself at him. It just–well, he called me in to offer his condolences, and–you know how quickly it can happen!”

Abigail met her glare cooly. “No. You have shamed yourself, Elizabeth.”

“
I have not!” Elizabeth cried. Her breast heaved at the outburst, and she stood there, the sun gleaming in behind her, and looked like a wrathful madwoman. “
I
at least have the honor of widowhood. What do
you
have? You will never even be a wife, now.”

Abigail’s spine stiffened. She would be humble with her betters, with her masters, she would never argue with them about her worth. But with this slave, she would not let herself be slandered. “I will. Andrew has already asked for me.”

Elizabeth seethed in exasperation. “Perhaps before he knew how you had been spoiled.”

“
And after. He promised to wait for Jason to release me.”

That seemed to deflate Elizabeth. Her shoulders sagged, and she turned her back on Abigail. “Then you have a man who loves you, as well as one who wants you. As always, Abigail, you prove yourself to be followed by good fortune.”

“
Good?” Too irritated to sit, Abigail surged to her feet. “I have a man I love whom I cannot marry because of the claims of a man I despise! How is that good?” Immediately regretting her words, she covered her mouth with her hand and squeezed her eyes shut against sudden tears of disapprobation, for herself and her companion. She knew beyond doubt that she should not have said such things in Elizabeth’s presence.

Elizabeth’s hand landed on her shoulder, and it was gentle. She opened her eyes to find her friend’s gaze on her, as soft as her touch, and tears burning there, too.

“
I am sorry,” Elizabeth whispered. “I have been jealous of you for so long, Abigail. Your mistress loves you, mine barely tolerates me. Your master has educated you, mine never even noticed me except to realize that I was an attractive option for his favorite slave, and now perhaps for himself. You are more beautiful, you are more loved, and I know there is nothing I can do about either. But I should not have tried to cause you pain.” She pulled Abigail close and held her there fiercely. “I am sorry you were forced into this situation, Abigail. I am sorry I did not want to see how it would hurt you.”

Abigail returned the embrace, and for the first time, she let the tears truly come.

~*~

Cleopas had not brought up the subject for a month. He knew very well that both his wife and son hoped he had forgotten about the spiritual lessons of the Galilean, and he did not correct them. He had no intention of bringing up the subject before anything could be done about it.

He knew his family did not understand his need. Ester was still afraid to contradict her father’s rhetoric, and her father had scoffed if anyone mentioned the possibility of a messiah, apparently. Well, it was not as though Cleopas was ready to declare the Nazarene the savior of mankind; but that did not mean it was not worthy of investigation. Every story he heard, even the ones so outrageous that logic told him they
must
be false, pulled on something within him.

The fact was, he was not a Jew. The Israelites would never accept him, a Roman, into their sanctum. He could never obey all the Laws, because they would not let him. How, then, was he to gain his place in Paradise? But at the same time, he loved the one God, Jehovah, with all of his heart. He wanted to serve him, he wanted to be counted as one of his children. Perhaps he was wrong to expect the messiah, the King of the Jews, to be able to intervene for him; perhaps popular opinion was correct, and the true messiah would be a great warrior to wage battle against Rome. But just maybe he was a teacher instead, and maybe the lessons this Jesus taught were true–maybe it was the love in a man’s heart that counted with the Lord, not the number of sacrifices he made or how the Sanhedrin viewed him.

How was it that neither wife nor son realized how crucially they needed something to bridge the gap between Jew and Gentile, to tear down that boundary, and to make them all equally clean before God? But Ester clung to the traditional interpretation of the Law, and Jason refused to acknowledge them at all. Of his household, only his slaves were willing to accept his word that this man deserved some attention. That brought a melancholy sigh to his lips on more than one occasion during that month that he remained silent about the topic festering within his chest.

But then he learned that Jesus of Nazareth was near again.

That night at dinner, Cleopas again waited until the dessert had been brought out before speaking his mind. Ester sat, smiling at Jason over something, her face beginning to age, but still more beautiful than any other in his eyes. Her expression was soft, as it so often was, and he knew that if he gave the word, she would obey him whether she agreed or not. Jason, on the other hand, sat even now in a pose that spoke of arrogance and independence. There would be no leading his son where he did not wish to go. From there, his gaze flicked to Andrew, standing tall and still and awaiting a movement to tell him where he was next needed. Andrew served with his whole heart and trusted him with his whole heart, as well, but would otherwise take no interest in the subject. And Abigail, mirroring Andrew in pose. She stood nearer Jason than Ester now, but it was still her mistress that she kept her eyes trained on. She, too, trusted him with a blindness that his family did not. But behind that quiet mask, he knew she had an inquisitive mind that would at once force her to question these things herself and make her hesitant to accept any answer.

Realizing he was on his own in this desire, he cleared his throat. Best to keep his words straightforward. “Jesus is teaching a few miles outside the city. Tomorrow at first light, we will journey to hear him. We will stay tomorrow night with my relative, Drusus, and return the following day.”

The clatter of utensils against dishes stilled, and he could feel four sets of eyes on him.

“
Very well,” Ester said after a moment’s hesitation. He knew she did not like Drusus, a third cousin of his who had moved to Israel a decade ago, where he served as a physician. She returned studiously to the food before her.

Jason mirrored Cleopas’s calm. “I cannot, Father. I have the watch tomorrow night.”

Cleopas wanted to tell him to request it off but remembered that another centurion had been ill and would likely not have returned to duty by his scheduled shift the next night; they would need Jason. So he only nodded. He then looked at the slaves. “You will go, too. Go inform Dinah and Simon that they will also journey with us. I wish my entire house to hear what this man has to say.”

“
Abigail will stay with me.” Jason’s smile looked forced when Ester’s gaze flew to him. “I am sorry, Mother, but if Dinah is gone, there will be no one else to get my meals.”

Cleopas knew he was right, but still he had to sigh in dissatisfaction. He would have liked to have Abigail form opinions that he could discuss with her. “Very well. Everyone else should be ready to leave first thing in the morning. I have already informed the general of my absence.”

~*~

Andrew did his best to tease and cajole Abigail into smiles as they packed for the master and mistress, but then it struck him. In the middle of a laugh, he sobered. His hands halted in their tasks. “I do not like it.”

Abigail looked at him with curiosity. “You do not like what? The trip?”

“
I do not like that you are staying here with
him
.”

“
Come, my friend.” She carefully folded one of Ester’s tunics. “Why does it bother you any more than any other day would? I will be doing nothing but my usual chores.”

“
Every day bothers me. I hate to think of you in his arms.” He saw her blush at his words and pursed his lips. “I am sorry to embarrass you, my love, but it is the truth. I would have liked a day’s reprieve from the torment your master puts me through.”

He shook his head and went back to packing. “He goads me deliberately. I fear that his need to keep you from me is counteracting his need to rebel against his father’s subtle hints that marriage would be best.” He stopped working again and turned to face her.