A Stray Drop of Blood (29 page)

“
Yes, Father, I have. I will stay in Jerusalem, serving under you as long as they allow me; I assume you can help me in that goal. I do not wish to take her from Mother. I know how attached they are to one another.”

“
Indeed.” Cleopas’s smile was indulgent. And far too warm to exist in the same world as the cold that had overtaken Andrew’s heart. “I need not tell you how ecstatic your mother will be at this news. You will finally be giving her the daughter she has always desired.”

“
Yes.”

Silence fell. Perhaps it was filled only with happy contemplation for the other two, but Andrew fisted his hands together and wished for a moment of privacy to rebuild the fortress of his emotions.

Cleopas turned to Jason again as they neared the house. “What of your plans of Rome, Jason? I thought you wished to take possession of our property there and manage that estate.”

Jason sighed, but it was with satisfaction. “I did, Father. But what is the point, if I do not have a family to manage it for? Abigail would not be happy in Rome, and I will not force her to go. And because I love her, I could never leave her behind. It became a question of Rome or Abigail, and I have made my choice.”

Cleopas put a firm hand on his son’s shoulder and smiled. “I think you have made a wise one, Jason.”

Jason nodded brightly. “I know I have. I will talk with Abigail as soon as we get home, if you will tell Mother. Then I am sure the rest of the evening will be spent in plans.”

“
I shall go in and share the news with Ester, then try to keep her from pouncing on Abigail until you have had a chance to tell her yourself.”

“
Good luck.” Jason laughed. He hung back as his father stepped inside, turning to Andrew. “A moment, Andrew.”

Andrew stopped, his burdens hanging down at his sides, not impressed with the unusual note of humility in Jason’s voice. “Yes, Master?”

Jason drew in a careful breath, and sent a searching gaze over him. What did he see? They boy he had tormented once? Or the fact that he grown into a man just as tall, just as strong as he? When his gaze touched on the ring in his ear, did it remind him anew of his dominion over him?

“
I know you love her,” he said at last. “I have long punished you for it, and I apologize. No man is the master of his heart. Andrew.” He drew himself up a bit taller. “I know you despise me. You probably would rather hear of my death than my decision to wed her. But know that even if I have not known her as long as you have, I love her still. I will treat her well, and I will honor her.”

Andrew made no response for a long moment. A few words could not erase all he had done. A promise did not guarantee that Abigail would be happy. “You will indeed. Or you will pay.”

Jason’s lips curved up. “You are good man, Andrew. We have never liked one another, even when we were boys. But I can admit now that my father was always right about you. I am sorry.”

Andrew stood still in his place as Jason turned and followed after his father into the house. He felt his life slipping away, seeping into the unforgiving ground, and he could do nothing to stop it. For the first time in almost two decades of servitude, he wished he had never stepped foot in the Visibullis house.

~*~

Abigail left the room with a smile when Cleopas asked to speak with Ester. She headed to Jason’s chamber, assuming he would be in shortly to clean up. With one hand supporting her back and the other resting on the ever-growing curve of her stomach, she said a silent prayer for the babe stirring within her.

Ester and Dinah still occasionally whispered that the pregnancy was hard on her, but the fear had receded. Love covered it, hers and Jasons. Perhaps it would be enough to take her all the way through birth in another couple months. Perhaps Jehovah would be merciful after all. It was worth the hope. Worth the prayers.

She opened the door to his room and left it in that position when she saw he was not inside. A moment later she heard his footfalls and turned with a welcoming smile.

Jason walked directly up to her, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her soundly. “How do you feel today?”

“
Well enough.” If she ignored the pain spiking down her hips.

“
Good.” She watched his face shift into an expression at once serious and blithe. He took her hands in his. “Abigail, I have something to speak with you about. Let us sit.”

They moved to the couch since it was closest, then he left her momentarily to grab a box, one that sent a waft of memory through her. Setting it closed on the other side of him, he took her hands again and looked into her eyes. “Abigail,” he began once more, then halted for breath. When he spoke again, it was in Hebrew. “I have come to love you greatly. There is not an hour that passes when you are not in my thoughts. Your name is honey on my tongue. Abigail. I want you to be my wife.”

She felt her eyes go wide as he settled a gentle hand on her cheek. Could he possibly be serious? For so long now he had been refusing to even accept it as an option, and did he now volunteer it as a solution? What of his objections, his plans? What of her ruinous effect on his future? “Jason–”

“
I have given it much thought,” he assured her solemnly, once more in Greek. “Beloved, I have made my choice. We will stay here, in Jerusalem, and I will serve under my father. Dear one, you will be my wife.” He opened the box and lifted out a length of gold, attached to which was a large ruby pendant.

Suddenly Abigail remembered the box from her first day in this house; Jason’s inheritance. “‘Who can find a virtuous woman?’” he quoted as his mother had done so many years ago,”‘for her price is far above rubies. . . Favour is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.’”

Tears filled Abigail’s eyes as he slipped the jewel over her head and brought it to a rest between her breasts. “I am undeserving of those words, Jason.”

He kissed her hands. “You are more than you think yourself, Abigail.”

The sound of hurried footsteps reached them, and a moment later his parents burst into the room. Abigail had never seen such rapture on Ester’s face, and Jason smiled brightly into it.

“
My children.” Ester did not stop until she could put an arm around each of them, hugging them at once. “The Lord has blessed us this day. Blessed be the name of the Lord! I am so happy.”

Jason laughed. “I praise him with you, Mother. Though there are a few things I will insist on. You must keep the wedding feast small, and make it soon. And now that Abigail is my betrothed, soon to be my wife, there will be no more eating in the kitchen; she will not be a servant. She will sit with us.”

“
Of course!”

Abigail looked in dismay at their matching grins, landing her imploring gaze on Cleopas, too, though he would only smile at her. “I cannot! Jason, I cannot be served at the table where I served.”

“
You can,” Cleopas pronounced firmly. “Abigail, the others adore you and would serve you gladly. You are the only one whom it would bother.”

She saw quickly that they would not be convinced; the Visibullises had decided that she would be one of them, and nothing she could say would dissuade them.

That evening, she sat at the table and was treated as though she had never been a slave.

Chapter Twenty

Menelaus tapped the hilt of his knife against the table’s edge and glanced over at Titus, who drummed his fingers on it. Lentulus sighed, a hand covering his face and the tips of his fingers buried in his hair. Apidius hacked without skill at a block of wood with his own knife. Their silence had covered the room for almost ten minutes.

“
This is ridiculous,” Menelaus finally grumbled. “We must decide.”

Silence again. It ground on for another two minutes. Lentulus finally showed his face. “The general is going, and his wife. Pilate is considering it, too.”

“
Pilate is going.” Menelaus had received the news only an hour before.

Apidius tossed his mutilated wood onto the table. “That is irrelevant. The general and Pontius go for Cleopas’s sake. They do not care who his son weds. But if we go, it will be for Jason. If we go, he will expect us to stand without shame beside him. We go now, and we profess ourselves his friends regardless of any decision he makes. We do not go, and we tell him clearly we are through with him.”

Menelaus considered for a moment, running his tongue over his teeth. Then he threw down his knife and stood, the clatter drawing all eyes his way. He set his face into the steely determination he imagined had been on his namesake’s countenance when he declared that he would not leave Ilium until he had his fair Helen at his side once more. “Jason is my friend. In Rome, he was higher in class and should not have graced me with his presence. But he did. Who am I to do otherwise in return?” He picked up his cloak and put it around his shoulders. “I am going to the wedding feast.”

Titus nodded, but by his grim expression Menelaus was not sure whether it was in agreement or resignation of another lost friend. Until he spoke. “I am going as well.”

Lentulus and Apidius looked at each other in relief and stood; their thoughts were obvious. If the mighty Titus Asinius would go with dignity to watch their friend wed a Hebrew slave, then they could, too.

By the time they arrived at the prefect’s dwelling, the feast was already underway. Music spilled onto the dusk-hued street, blending with the rays of the old sun. Laughter reached Menelaus’s ears, and many voices talking at once. When they arrived at the door, it was opened by the old, smiling slave he had seen a handful of times before.

“
Welcome.” He motioned them indoors.

They all took off their cloaks and handed them to him, looking around and at each other as he led them in to where the feast was taking place. The aroma of food reminded Menelaus that they had not eaten in their haste to sit around and contemplate all afternoon.

They were not noticed as soon as they entered, which was unsurprising given the number of people within, and it gave them a moment to look around them, taking in the other guests and the bride and bridegroom. Jason was looking his best, decked out in wedding array and smiling with a light Menelaus had never seen in him before.

“
He is happy.” Awe with that probably colored his tone.

“
So it seems.” Titus hummed, but it sounded more like a growl as he looked toward the corner of the room. Menelaus turned to see what had snagged his disapproval and saw Abigail. She, too, was smiling, but the glow on her face was not that of complete happiness as Jason’s was, but rather of peace. The corner’s of Titus’s mouth turned up. “I am not so certain his bride is as content.”

“
Do not be absurd.” Apidius grinned as he stepped up beside them. “She is still lovely, even with the extra curve. Have you ever seen such a face?”

At that point Jason spotted them, and his smile grew even broader as he left his father’s side to greet them. “My friends!” He clasped each of their wrists in turn. “I am glad you came. Come, get something to eat. Dinah’s dishes could be put on the emperor’s table, and she has been busy with the preparations for days.”

“
Thank you.” Menelaus let himself be ushered to the tables of food. Jason’s mother soon joined them, her smile as bright as her son’s. It was no wonder the Visibullis men were so taken with the Hebrew women. These two were perfect examples of feminine beauty.

“
Welcome. Jason has spoken much of you. Thank you for joining us on this joyous day.”

He replied politely if without enthusiasm and focused on the food; Cleopas had apparently spared no expense, proving his approval of the marriage. The wine was strong and fine and free-flowing, the house was dressed in festivity, and Menelaus felt like an island of depression in the midst of a sea of gaiety.

“
I hope his lovely wench appreciates what he has given up for her,” he muttered to Titus once he had cleaned off his plate and gotten some drink into his stomach.

A menacing gleam entered Titus’s eyes. “Perhaps we should make sure of it.” He began to maneuver toward the bride, Menelaus a step behind him. Titus managed the hunt as though it was unintentional, greeting his other acquaintances in the room, and managing to look almost surprised when he found himself before Abigail, who was at the moment standing at the edge of the room, surveying her wedding celebration calmly. Menelaus drew even with Titus, effectively blocking her path in case she chose to flee.

“
Congratulations, Abigail.” Titus took her hand as all the other guests had and bowed over it.

She straightened her spine and tugged her hand free. Menelaus claimed it and gave her a feral smile. Perhaps, if it were anyone but Jason she had ruined, he could have admired the determination in her eyes.

“
Thank you for coming.” She reclaiming her hand again. “Jason was not sure you would.”

“
Neither were we.” Titus made the admission sound like an accusation as he ran his eyes deliberately down her.

“
It is hard to watch one’s friend sacrifice a brilliant career,” Menelaus practically growled, “for a
woman
.”

Abigail’s shoulders moved back, and her chin came up to reveal eyes throwing sparks that illuminated her whole face. She changed in a moment from Venus to Juno, angry and prepared to shift the world because of it. “I did not ask for the sacrifice.”