“I can’t! I can’t bear it.”
“Perhaps what you need to do is seek her God to receive the peace of which Hadassah spoke.”
Marcus raised his head sharply and gave a harsh laugh. “Seek her god?”
“Her faith in him was the essence of who Hadassah was, Marcus. Surely you know that.”
He stood and moved away from her. “Where was this almighty god of hers when she faced the lions? If he exists, he’s a coward, for he abandoned her!”
“If you truly believe that, you must find out why.”
“How do I do that, Mother? Do I inquire of the priests in a temple that no longer exists? Titus destroyed Jerusalem. Judea is in ruin.”
“You must go to her God and ask.”
He frowned, his gaze penetrating. “You’re not beginning to believe in this accursed Jesus, are you? I told you what happened to him. He was nothing more than a carpenter who got on the wrong side of the Jews. They handed him over to be crucified.”
“You loved Hadassah.”
“I still love her.”
“Then isn’t she worth your questions? What would she have wanted you to do, Marcus? What one thing mattered to her more than life itself? You must seek her God and ask him why she died. Only he can give you the answers you need.”
Marcus’s mouth twisted sardonically. “How does one seek the face of an unseen god?”
“As Hadassah did. Pray.”
Grief filled him, followed closely by bitterness and anger. “By the gods, Mother, what good did prayer ever do her?”
At her surprised look and fallen expression, he knew he had hurt her deeply. He forced himself to relax, to be rational. “Mother, I know you’re trying to comfort me, but there is no comfort. Don’t you understand? Maybe time will change things. I don’t know. But no god will do me good.” He shook his head at her, his voice growing angry again. “From the time I was a child, I remember you placing your offerings before your household gods in the lararium. Did it save your other children from fever? Did it keep Father alive? Did you ever once hear a voice in the wind?” His anger died, leaving only a sense of terrible emptiness. “There are no gods.”
“Then everything Hadassah said was a lie.”
He winced. “No. She believed every word of what she said.”
“She believed a lie, Marcus? She died for nothing?” She saw his hand clench at his side and knew her questions caused him pain. But better pain now than death forever.
She rose and went to him again, laying her hand gently against his cheek. “Marcus, if you truly believe Hadassah’s God abandoned her, ask him why he would do such a thing to one such as she was.”
“What does it matter now?”
“It matters. It matters more than you know. How else will you ever be at peace with what happened?”
His face grew pale and cold. “Peace is an illusion. There is no true peace. If I ever go looking for Hadassah’s god, Mother, it wouldn’t be to praise him as she did, but to curse him to his face.”
Phoebe said no more, but her heart cried out in anguish. O Lord God, forgive him. He knows not what he says.
Marcus turned away from comfort, believing all he had left was the sweet echo of Hadassah’s voice in the darkness that had closed around him.
3
“That one over there,” Julia Valerian said, pointing to a small brown goat in the stall just outside the temple. “The dark brown one. Is he perfect?”
“All of my goats are perfect,” the merchant said, pushing his way through the herd crowded into the pen and grasping the one she demanded. He looped a rope around its neck. “These animals are without defect,” he said, lifting the struggling animal and making his way back to her as he named his price.
Julia’s eyes narrowed angrily. She looked from the scrawny beast to the avaricious merchant. “I will not pay you so much for such a small goat!”
His gaze swept pointedly over her fine woolen palus and lingered on the pearls in her hair and the carbuncle necklace about her neck. “You appear able to afford it, but if it’s a bargain you’re looking for, may it be on your head.” He set the goat down and straightened. “I will not waste my time in haggling, woman. Do you see this mark on the ear? This animal is anointed for sacrifice by one of the haruspices. This concession is provided by the seers for your benefit. The money you pay for this animal goes to the haruspex and the temple. Do you understand? If you want to buy a cheaper goat somewhere else and try to bring it before the gods and their ordained representatives, do so at your own peril.” His dark eyes taunted.
Julia trembled at his words. She was fully aware she was being cheated, but she had no choice. The dreadful man was right. Only a fool would try to fool the gods—or the haruspicex, whom the gods had chosen to read the sacred signs hidden in the sacrificed animals’ vital organs. She looked at the small goat with distaste. She had come to find out what ailed her and if that meant she had to purchase a sacrificial animal at an outrageous price, then she would do so. “My apologies,” she said. “I will take him.”