As Sure as the Dawn (14 page)

“I am,” she said, sinking down gratefully on a couch near a brazier. The warmth was welcome after the long walk in the cold wind. “I’ve come from Atretes.”

“There’s trouble?”

“Great trouble,” she said, loosening the shawl and lowering Caleb and the pouch of gold coins to the couch beside her. She shivered.

Cleopas moved the brazier closer to her. “Caleb looks well,” he said, smiling down at him. “And much heavier than the last time I saw him.”

“He’s twice what he was when John placed him in my arms,” she said thankfully, though she had felt every ounce of him and the additional weight of the gold coins during the long walk into the city. Smiling, she let Caleb grasp her fingers and try to pull himself up.

Cleopas put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll bring you some wine and something to eat.”

She thanked him and returned her attention to the baby. “Now beloved, you’re no longer bound. Wiggle all you want,” she said, tickling his stomach. Gurgling happily, he kicked his legs. He grasped his foot and stuck it in his mouth, gumming his toes while grinning up at her. She patted his bottom and rose.

Going to the window, she peered out cautiously. The man who had followed her was standing in the night shadows beside a building just down the street, watching the house. She drew back, a hand against her heart.

Trembling, she went back and sat down beside Caleb again.

Cleopas returned. “Can I do anything to help?”

“I may be bringing trouble to John,” she said as he set the tray down on the table before her. “A man followed me. I tried to lose him on the way, but he’s like a barnacle on the hull of a ship. You can see him. He’s wearing black robes and he’s standing just down the street. Perhaps I should leave now before—”

“And go where?”

“I don’t know, but the man behind the trouble is powerful and connected to the arenas.” Fear rose inside her at the thought of repercussions to John and other friends if they stood in Sertes’ way. “I didn’t think . . .”

Cleopas poured wine into a small copper-lined clay cup and handed it to her. “It’s very late. Drink. Eat.”

His calm assurance set her mind at ease. He was unafraid. God was in command, not Sertes. Not even the emperor of the whole Roman Empire had the power of the Lord. She smiled up at Cleopas. “I’ve missed you and John and all the others.”

“As we’ve missed you.”

The sound of the front door opening startled her. Wine spilled over her hand, and she set the cup down. So much for her calmness! Cleopas put his hand out in a comforting gesture and rose. “It’s John or one of the brethren,” he said and went out to the antechamber. She heard voices and recognized that of the apostle.

“Thank God,” she said, rising and going to him as he entered the room. She threw her arms around him, tears burning her eyes. He held her tenderly, as a father might. When she finally withdrew, John took her hands and gave her a holy kiss. He was dismayed by her tears.

She gave him a watery smile. “It’s so good to see you, John.”

“And you,” he said.

Caleb gave a squeal from the couch and Rizpah jumped. John gave her a comforting touch and stepped past her. Laughing, he picked up the baby. “Look who comes to see us, Cleopas!” he said, grinning into Caleb’s face. Caleb kicked his legs like a little frog, delighted to be the center of attention again. John held him close and ran a finger under Caleb’s chin, gaining another chuckle.

Rizpah relaxed slightly watching the apostle with her son. Contrary to Atretes’ manner, John was perfectly at ease with a baby. She came back and sat on the couch, smiling as she watched. The apostle sat and laid the boy in his lap, Caleb’s feet against his stomach. John took his ankles and pumped his legs playfully. Gurgling, Caleb waved his hands happily.

“What is more beautiful than the innocence of a child?” John said, smiling down at Caleb. “I remember how children flocked around Jesus as we traveled through townships.” He shook his head. “At first, we’d try to shoo them away, thinking of them as no more than a swarm of pesky flies,” he said with a soft laugh, “and Jesus would gather them to him and bless them one by one. He told us unless we become like children, we will not enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Rizpah smiled tenderly. “Humble and helpless.”

“And completely open to the love and truth of God,” John added, smiling. He glanced up at Cleopas and the servant came and took Caleb, then went to sit on another couch near Rizpah and laid the baby on his lap. He dangled a knotted cord and Caleb tried to capture it.

“It’s fear for Caleb that brought me to you,” Rizpah said. “A man named Sertes is going to great lengths to force Atretes to fight again. If he should find out Caleb is Atretes’ son, Sertes wouldn’t hesitate to use even a baby to gain what he wants. I’d hide him if I could, but Atretes would never allow me to take him away on a permanent basis.”

“How can we help you?”

“Atretes needs help in leaving Ephesus. But now that I’ve come, I’m not sure you should become involved. Sertes is very powerful.”

“More powerful than God?”

Rizpah let out her breath softly and closed her eyes. “No,” she said softly. She looked at him again, somewhat embarrassed at her lack of faith. “I’m weak, John. Over the past weeks, away from your teaching and my brothers and sisters, I’ve slipped repeatedly. Living with Atretes is . . . difficult.” How could she explain to a man like John how Atretes affected her? “He trusts no one. Me, least of all.”

“Yet he allowed you to come to me.”

“Because he saw no other way to gain the information and help he needs to leave Ionia. I don’t mean to criticize him, John. It’s just that he’s led such a hard, violent life. He’s so full of hatred I can feel the heat of it. Because he was betrayed by one woman, he assumes every other is untrustworthy.”

“He allowed you to bring Caleb with you.”

She rose, agitated. “Had Atretes breasts to feed Caleb, he would’ve yanked him from my arms and thrown me out the gate the first day!”

Cleopas rose. “I believe this little one needs to be bathed.”

Rizpah glanced at him, embarrassed by her outburst. “I don’t have any fresh linen with me,” she said in apology.

He smiled. “We have some cloth that will do.”

Rizpah knew he was giving her the opportunity to speak with John alone. “Thank you, Cleopas,” she said softly. Nodding, he left the room with Caleb.

She looked at John. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I always speak before I think better of it.” So many thoughts rushed through her head.

“You’re not alone in having a tongue of fire, Rizpah.” His mouth tipped. “Jesus called me and James
Boanerges.
Sons of Thunder.”

She laughed. “You? Well, perhaps there’s hope for me after all.”

“You’ve given your life to Christ, and rest assured, he will mold and make you into the vessel best designed to his purposes.”

“Yes, but I wish I knew what that purpose was.”

“You do know. God’s will isn’t hidden away like the myths and philosophies and knowledge of the world. Jesus told us openly and daily what his will for us is. Love one another.
Love one another.”

“But how? You can’t even imagine the kind of man Atretes is.”

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. In God we live and move and have our being. In God, we
can
love one another.”

She nodded. It would take God to overcome her trepidation where Atretes was concerned. It would take God to protect her from the forces she felt moving around him.

“Jesus also told us to go and make disciples of all the nations,” John said, “baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that he commanded us.”

“Oh, John,” she said and closed her eyes.
And so I must go to Germania, Lord? I must make Atretes a
disciple?
How?

“Cast your burdens on the Lord. He will sustain you.”

“It’s ludicrous to think
I
could ever bring Atretes to a saving faith in Christ.”

“Christ will bring Atretes to saving faith, if it’s his will to do so. Not you. Your call is to show Atretes God’s love, just as Shimei showed you.”

Her eyes filled. Shimei. Blessed Shimei. “I understand,” she said softly.

He knew she did. “Pray with me,” he said and held out his hands to her. She came to him, and they knelt together.

The fear and tension began to ebb from her as she listened to John’s strong yet gentle voice. Surely the apostle’s prayers would be heeded more than hers. He was faithful and full of confidence in the Lord, while her own mind and heart were divided by turmoil. He had walked with Jesus.

I am weak, Lord. Forgive me. Please protect Caleb and raise him up to be zealous for you. I beseech you, Father, redeem Atretes. Bring him out of the darkness and into the light. Use me as you will.

John gave thanks for the food that had been set before them and helped her rise. A sense of serenity filled her; a peace she hadn’t felt since the day John had come to her and told her that Atretes wanted his son back.

“Now,” John said, smiling, “tell me what has transpired between you and Atretes.” He took a small loaf and broke it, giving her half.

She poured out every encounter with the ex-gladiator, from the first moment she had met him until the last conversation in the upper room of his villa. “He must leave Ephesus,” Rizpah said. “If he remains here, Sertes will find some way to make him fight again. The man has spies watching the villa every minute. He’s even sent men to ask questions about
me
in the city. If Sertes finds out that Caleb is Atretes’ son, I can’t even begin to imagine how he might use that information against Atretes . . . and what danger it would present to Caleb.” She took the pouch of gold Atretes had given her and handed it to John. “Atretes sent this. He wants to return to Germania. How far will it take us?”

John opened the pouch and spilled the gold coins into his hand. “About halfway to Rome,” he said and poured them back in. He set the pouch on the table between them.

“I must get word back to Atretes that we’ll need more money. I gave my word I would be in contact with him within two days. One is already gone.”

John watched her move restlessly and prayed for her silently. She peered out the window again and then drew back, her face pale. “Sertes’ spy is still outside,” she said. “He followed me from the villa. I tried to lose him, but . . .” A dozen consequences rose to torment her. “I never intended to bring trouble to your doorstep, John.”

“Sit and eat, Rizpah. You will need your strength for what’s ahead.”

“All of his money is invested in his estate,” Rizpah said, sitting down again.

“The Lord will provide what’s needed.”

“I hope the Lord will also provide maps. Atretes doesn’t know how to find his way to Germania, and all I know is it’s somewhere far north of Rome.” She blinked back tears. “I’ve heard it’s an uncivilized, barbaric place. If Atretes is an example of the people there . . .” Shaking her head, she held the bread clenched on her lap. “I can’t believe I suggested he return. What was I thinking? Even the thought of Germania fills me with an unspeakable dread.”

“The earth and all that’s on it is by God’s creation,” John said and smiled. “Even Germania.”

“I know, but it’s so far from
you
and Cleopas and all the others whom I love. And I’d be alone with Atretes, dependent upon his good will.” She gave a bleak laugh. “We can’t be in the same room together without some kind of argument arising between us.”

“Has he done you physical harm?”

“No, though he can be intimidating at times.” She looked away, remembering Atretes exercising in the gymnasium.

“Are you attracted to him?”

She blushed. Lowering her head, she said nothing for a long moment. “Yes, I am,” she finally admitted, embarrassed. “What’s worse, he knows it.”

“The Lord has put you together with Atretes for a purpose, Rizpah.”

She raised one brow. “To tempt me?”

“God cannot be tempted, nor does he tempt anyone. Our own lusts entice us and carry us away.”

“I haven’t been carried away yet. Nor do I intend to be.” She tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into the wine. She ate the morsel, gaining time to think. Her emotions were too confused to put into the right words. She looked at John, so calm in countenence and spirit. “It isn’t just Atretes’ physical beauty that draws me, John. It’s something deeper, something held tight inside him. He’s hard and fierce and violent, but he’s in terrible pain. He told me one night he remembers every man he ever killed.” Tears burned her eyes. “I look at him and . . .” She shook her head. “The desire to comfort him could open the way to . . . other desires.”

“Then you must guard yourself. God is faithful, Rizpah. Set your mind upon pleasing him. He won’t allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able to withstand and he will provide the way of escape also, that you may be able to endure it.”

“I will try to be strong.”

“Don’t trust in your own strength. None of us is strong in him or herself. It’s the Lord who upholds us.”

She rose again, restless. “I wish I could come back to Ephesus and live in the insula. Life was easier and far less complicated.” Better had she never met Atretes at all, for even now, away from him, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“There are days when I struggle, too,” John said.

She turned, surprised. “You? But you’re an apostle.”

“I’m human, just like you are.”

“There’s no one else left like you, John. You’re the last apostle. All the others have gone to be with the Lord.”

“Yes,” he said, “and sometimes I ask the Lord why I’m still here on this earth. As much as I love you and the others, oh, how I long for the day when I’ll be face-to-face with Jesus again.”

Rizpah heard the longing in his voice and ached for him. She saw the gray in his hair and beard, the lines of age around his eyes. She came and knelt before him. Taking his hands, she kissed them. “I’m selfish,” she said in a choked whisper, “for I hope you’ll be with us a while longer.” She raised her head, her eyes swimming in tears. “When you’ve passed on, John, there’ll be no one left who walked with Jesus, who touched him and heard his voice. You’re the last living witness of the Christ.”