An Echo in the Darkness(105)

Instead, fear filled him.

He couldn’t remember the details of her face anymore.

He tried desperately to grasp his memories of her, but they were fading, blurring her image in his mind. He covered his face and tried to remember, to put her features together. All he could see now was a faceless girl on her knees in his father’s villa garden, her hands raised toward the heavens and God.

“No.” He groaned, digging his fingers into his hair and holding his head. “Don’t take what little I have left of her.” But no matter how he pleaded or how hard he tried, he knew she was slipping away from him.

Exhausted and depressed, Marcus looked around. He had come so far. And for what? For this? He closed his eyes and laid his head on his arms.





23

Didymas entered the bedchamber and came out onto the small balcony where Julia was sitting with a cool cloth pressed over her forehead.

“What is it?” Julia said, annoyed by the slave girl’s presence.

“A man is here to see you, my lady.”

Julia’s heart took a small leap. Had Marcus returned? Perhaps he had finally come to his senses and decided they had only one another. Though she knew it was improbable, knew she shouldn’t hope, she felt hope rise anyway. Her fingers trembled as she continued to press the cool wet cloth against her throbbing forehead. She was afraid to reveal her face to Didymas’ scrutiny. Didymas would no doubt secretly relish her struggle, and even more so, her pain.

“Who is it?” Julia said with feigned indifference. She had had no visitors in weeks. Who among her supposed friends would come to see her as she was now?

“His name is Prometheus, my lady.”

“Prometheus?” she said blankly, her heart dropping as a wave of disappointment poured over her like cold water. “Who is Prometheus?” she demanded in irritation. The name was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“He said he’s a slave of this household, my lady. He asked first for Primus. When I said the master was no longer in Ephesus, he asked to speak with you.”

With a shock, Julia remembered who he was. “Prometheus!” Primus’ catamite! What was he doing here? He had run away almost four years ago. Why would he come back now? If Primus were here, he would either kill the boy on the spot or, far more likely, suffer anew from his foul passions for him. What was she supposed to do with him?

She thought quickly. With Primus gone, Prometheus must know he was placing his life in her hands. He might not be aware of the two maids she had sent to the arena in Rome, but he had been here when she sent Hadassah to the lions. He was also more than aware she had always been repulsed by his position in the household. She had mocked Primus’ passion for him and looked upon Prometheus himself as something less than a trained dog.

Her head throbbed. “Why does he come back now?” The cool cloth she held over her eyes did little to ease the pain.

“I don’t know, my lady. He did not say.”

“I wasn’t asking you, you fool!”

“Do you wish me to send him up to you, my lady? Or shall I send him away?”

“Let me think!”

Julia stared, unseeing, past the balcony railing, reflecting briefly on the past. Prometheus had been very fond of Hadassah. In fact, it was Prometheus’ admiration for the slave girl that had roused the terrible beast of jealousy and hatred in Primus. Julia further remembered it was much of this that brought on so many of her own troubles. Sometimes, late at night, Prometheus would sit with Hadassah in the peristyle, and they would talk. Primus said her little Jewess was seducing the boy, but Julia knew there had never been that kind of relationship between them. Her lip curled. Hadassah had been too pure for that. Yet, no matter how innocent the discourse between Hadassah and Prometheus, trouble had come from it.

What a fool he was to come back! She could do whatever she pleased with him. Slaves who ran away and were captured were often thrown to the dogs in the arena. She could think of far worse things to do to him.

The echo of roaring lions filled her mind, and she gripped her head, moaning softly. “What does he want?”

“He didn’t say, my lady.”

“Did you ask?”

“I didn’t think it my place.”

She didn’t want to think about the past. Prometheus would only be a reminder. “Send him away.”

“Very well, my lady.”

“No, wait!” she said. “I’m curious.” What would possess a runaway slave to return to a master or mistress who would more than likely order him tortured and killed? Surely he must know what she would like to do to him. Upon hearing Primus was gone, he had probably taken a wiser course and fled the villa as soon as Didymas left the antechamber.