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Authors: Roseanna M. White

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BOOK: A Stray Drop of Blood
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She had not realized Ester had seen so deeply into her heart all this time. “Yes, it is gone. The Lord washed it away with his sacrifice.”

Ester reached down to clasp Abigail’s hands. “I am glad. I always saw in you a spirit that would rise up, as the women in the Scriptures who were called on by Jehovah to perform a great task. I rejoiced when Andrew told me we serve the same Savior.”


As did I. I prayed for you every day.”

Ester nodded serenely, looking around her at the estate that had been her husband’s for all those years, though he had chosen to remain always by her side in her land instead of enjoying it. “The Lord has blessed us, that I know. Most mornings, I still wake up and sorrow for all I have lost. But I have come to thank the Lord, too, for all he has given me.” She met Abigail’s gaze again. “Aquilia has told me of your plans to marry Titus. I could see in a glance that he is much changed, but I simply never would have thought, knowing the kind of man he had been–”


I know.” Abigail laughed. “I would not have thought, either, Mother. But the man he has become! It is amazing to behold. He loves the boys so, and he serves God and his Son with a full heart. I hope you will come to understand my choice, and I pray you do not mind our living here.”


Of course not. In fact, I was hoping that
you
would not mind
my
living here, as well.”

Abigail’s eyes widened. “Truly? You would want to leave Jerusalem?”

A hint of pain entered Ester’s eyes, and Abigail saw the added age of which Titus had spoken. “There is nothing left for me there. I cannot go back to that house, and I have no family, few friends. No, child, my place is with you and Benjamin and your family. If you will have me.”


Nothing would please me more.” She heard a familiar shout coming near and smiled anew. “And I am certain Samuel will agree.”

The boy burst onto the scene, flinging himself at her. She caught him up and hugged him close.


You are back!” He wrapped small arms around her neck. “I missed you, Mother! Where were you?”

She kissed his forehead. “Making a new friend. But I missed you as well.”

Samuel grinned up at her. “Titus says that tomorrow he will become my father.”

Abigail grinned in return. “Did he? That is good news. He tells me that tomorrow he will become my husband, too. We are blessed, Samuel.”


It is I who am blessed.” Titus entered the room at a slower pace than the boy, but with the same contentment on his face. He carried Benjamin in his arms, who let out a happy gurgle when he spotted her. Baby arms stretched out to her, and Abigail put Samuel on his feet so that she could cuddle the babe to her.

Titus watched with a smile and turned to Ester. “I just spoke with Drusus, and he said he will not tarry long before returning to Judea. He also said you did not plan to join him. I pray that means you will remain here with us?”


Unless you would mind. You may begin to think there are too many mothers around, you know.”

Titus chuckled and reached over to pick up her hand. “Never. Especially since one more follower of Christ can only be a blessing under this roof.”


In that, my friend, we are certainly in agreement.” Ester look at the man Abigail loved and sighed. “I trust you realize what a gift her love is. She does not give it lightly, though she inspires it with every smile.”


I know.” Titus released her hand and picked up Samuel, who rested his golden head upon the large shoulder. He smiled at Abigail, and she grinned back. “We shall forge ourselves into a family, one bound by cords stronger than blood. But through the blood that brought us together. We shall serve together, love together, teach and learn together . . . we shall change the world together.”

Abigail stepped closer to his side. “The psalmist said that ‘weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.’” She looked to the bright sun outside, and the others’ gazes followed. “It is morning in Rome. Let us dedicate ourselves to sharing our joy.”

There were no words that needed to be said. The Spirit said it all for them as it covered the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

He had been traveling for a long while, and his horse was weary. He was weary, too. Wishing for the youth that these memories reminded him of, Menelaus rolled his shoulders back to loosen the tight muscles, trying to tell himself that he had no reason to feel so old. He was not, really. It was only the hours of travel and the news that met him at every stop that made him feel that way. But it just seemed wrong to be so aware of the age creeping in; this should have been a day of rejoicing, of gladness. It was the first time he had stepped foot in Italy in over a decade.

His memory of the road was blurred at best, but he was certain he was on the right one. It was well worn from hooves and feet, and the man he had asked two miles back had assured him he was headed in the right direction if the Visibullis estate was his goal.

It still tasted like mockery on his tongue. The Visibullis estate it may be in name, but everyone who spoke of it knew that it was the Asiniuses who made its name known at all. Menelaus spat the dust from his mouth. The anger was not as strong now as it had been ten years ago when he heard of the marriage, but it was still present. What right did they have to forget Jason, who was a better man than Titus could ever hope to be? What right did he have to take his wife, what right did she have to give herself to another? And the boy–the boy deserved to hear of his true father every day, not to forget him in the face of that pretender.

He rounded a bend, and the villa came into view. He reined his horse to a halt for a moment and simply looked at it. Even from this distance, he saw that it was bustling with activity. He knew from word along the way that it was more a town than a simple estate these days. It had become a haven for all the Jews when Caesar declared it illegal for them to live in Rome itself, and for the followers of that Nazarene, too. Menelaus was still amazed that the new religion had spread so quickly, in spite of all that the authorities tried to do to halt it. What was so impressive about a crucified carpenter? Or did they all believe those ridiculous stories about his supposed resurrection?

He spurred the horse on again and even urged it into a canter to get him there a bit faster, promising the beast a rest and food and water once he delivered him to the villa. Apparently the dust he kicked up was spotted a good ways off, for as soon as he came to a halt in front of the house, there were servants there to take the reins from him and offer him water. He drank.


May I assist you, friend?” A man strode up. He was tall, muscled, older than Menelaus but looking far more energetic.

Menelaus drew in a long, cautious breath. “I am looking for Titus and Abigail Asinius. I am. . . an old friend. Menelaus Casicus.”

The man smiled as if he recognized the name. It was possible, Menelaus granted, but not likely. They had no reason to speak of him to their servants.


Of course. I will take you to my master. Mistress is tending the children, but I will inform her you are here. I am their steward, Jacob, and I am at your disposal.”

Menelaus nodded as his eyes took in everything around him on the walk into the house. It looked to be prosperous, that was beyond doubt, but it did little to ease his mind.

Titus should not be enjoying Jason’s prosperity.

The master came through the atrium as they entered it, and his face lit with immediate recognition. He smiled, and Menelaus frowned. He could not ever recall seeing Titus smile like that, but the lines it formed around his mouth proved he did it often.


Menelaus!” Titus laughed, hurrying the last few steps to clasp his wrist and clap a hand to his other shoulder. “My friend, it is so good to see you! We have prayed for you regularly.” He turned with bright eyes to the steward. “Did I not tell you I felt that the Lord would bring him here soon, Jacob?”

The steward smiled. “You did, Titus, and I never doubted. Shall I go tell Abigail?”


Please. But on your way, you had better stop to see your daughter and her little one. He is standing.”

With a proud grin, Jacob departed. Titus turned back to Menelaus with a more sober expression. “I have kept myself informed of your whereabouts. Lentulus and Apidius have come to visit whenever they could, but you I have not seen since Jerusalem. You have been on my mind much recently, my friend, and I felt deep within me that you have some contentions to settle with me.”

Menelaus scowled. “You have felt that, have you?”

Unperturbed, Titus nodded, his dark eyes studying him. “We can talk now, or you can rest first. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish.”

Menelaus’s brows drew together. “You are very generous with what is not yours.”

Titus actually smiled. “You would like to talk now, then. Very well. Allow me to assure you that I have touched nothing of Jason’s estate except to improve it, and it is all Benjamin’s. I live off my own revenue, as do Abigail and the children. When Benjamin comes of age, he will come into his wealth and find it more than what it was when he was born.”

Menelaus breathed a humorless laugh. “You always had to be superior, did you not, Titus? But when Jason had something better, you simply took it.”

A light of sadness entered Titus’s eyes at the accusation. “I took nothing, Menelaus.”


You married his wife and raised his son and moved to his villa. You support his mother and harbor his people.”

Titus spread his hands, palms flat. “And I am wrong for this? For taking care of his family as he asked me to do? For increasing what he left for his son, for protecting those he had come to identify with before his death?” He shook his head. “You are angry for many reasons, my friend, but that one is not valid.”

Menelaus was too irritated to think of a proper retort. And he was distracted by the boisterous shouts of young boys that drew ever closer. In curiosity he watched as a pack of them burst into the room, the tallest screeching to a halt in a way that was vaguely familiar.

Titus, too, had turned to see the boys come in, and he smiled. “Perfect timing, my sons. We have a guest. This is Menelaus.”


I remember you,” the tallest and obviously oldest spoke up. Menelaus saw the burnished hair falling in curls, the almost too-perfect features, and felt a whisper of recognition that he could not place. The young man grinned and elbowed the younger boy beside him. “He served with our fathers in Jerusalem. He was your father’s best friend, and he came to see Mother and Grandmother after the uprising.”

The younger boy’s eyes widened as Menelaus’s narrowed. “You knew my father?”

Menelaus knew a moment of begrudging respect. Apparently he had been wrong to assume that Titus had erased all knowledge of Jason from his son’s mind. “Benjamin?”

The boy nodded vigorously. He must be, what, ten now? Menelaus suddenly saw Jason in his smile, carefree and confident. He stepped forward and reached out to clasp hands as a man would have, and Menelaus found himself smiling in return. “You look like your father.”

Benjamin smiled again. “I know. Mother and Grandmother tell me that all the time. I look like Grandfather, too.”


Yes, you do. You would make them proud.”

Benjamin did not seem surprised to hear that opinion. “They say that, too.” He motioned to the group behind him, indicating the oldest first. “That is Samuel, and my little brother, Jason. He is named after my father.”

Menelaus looked to the youngest boy with a serious gaze. He was probably around six and kept shifting from foot to foot as if impatient with the holdup in his race. Little Jason, Titus in miniature, nodded without much interest, and Menelaus found his smile returning. He looked to the fourth boy, around the same age as Jason.


That is Mark. He is Andrew and Miriam’s son.” Benjamin looked to Titus. “Did someone tell Mother he is here?”

Titus nodded. “And since I am certain he will stay at least one night, since the hour grows late, you can all run along now and visit with him more later.”

The group of boys all smiled and took off again, leaving Menelaus to watch after them. “Samuel–the boy Jason bought just before his death?”


Yes,” Titus said with obvious affection. “I have adopted him. He is growing into a fine man, and he helps with the younger ones without complaint.”

Menelaus decided to release his resentment in favor of curiosity. “How many children do you have?”

Titus’s chest puffed, but with a far different pride than Menelaus was used to seeing in him. “Three of my blood. Jason, of course, and his older sister Ester, who is almost nine, and the babe, Cleopas, who is two.”

Menelaus studied Titus without expression. “You have named your children after the Visibullises instead of your own family?”

A hint of the old Titus entered the man’s face. “I stopped calling my father family when I married Abigail, and nothing changed before he died five years ago, so I see no reason to favor his memory in such a way. We named a daughter after my mother, but she did not survive a month.”

Menelaus marveled at the sadness in Titus’s eyes. Uncomfortable with such talk, he searched his mind for something else. “I was surprised to hear of your enterprises here. It was my impression that Jews and this new sect called Christians are not favored in Rome.”

BOOK: A Stray Drop of Blood
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