Azar returned with the mandragora. Julia drank it eagerly, longing for peace and thinking to find it in drugged oblivion.
34
While Julia slept, Hadassah sat in the peristyle pouring out her heart to God. She hadn’t expected the confusing feelings that would be stirred up in her by returning to this villa. Each time a thought came knocking on the door of her mind, she viewed it cautiously. Was it true? Was it honorable? Was it pure or lovely? Was it of good repute? Too many were not, and she pressed them away. Yet, the dark thoughts kept pounding.
It was so much easier to keep her focus on the Lord when she was alone. It was when she was caring for Julia that her armor seemed too thin against the darts that came.
She warred against the thoughts of the past and those feelings now, turning her mind purposefully to praising the Lord. She recounted all those lives he had touched over the past two years. She thanked him for the life of Antonia and her son, for Severina and Boethus, and dozens of others. She prayed for Phoebe and Iulius. She prayed for Marcus, but thoughts of him turned her mind back again to the past. So she prayed for Alexander instead. She hadn’t expected to miss him so much.
The front door opened, interrupting her quiet time. She was almost relieved when she saw Prometheus enter. She felt her spirit lighten, for she often sat with him here, listening to him and talking about the Lord. She hadn’t revealed her identity to him, but found their previous camaraderie renewed and even heightened. She no longer saw him as a boy in bondage, but as a young man set free.
She watched him stride across the antechamber and enter the peristyle. The look on his face held her silent. He was greatly distressed. He walked to the fountain without noticing her in the alcove. Leaning over, he put his hands on the marbled edge of the well. He swore. Leaning down, he splashed the water over his face, rubbing it around the back of his neck. He swore again. He washed his hands and scrubbed at his face, but it didn’t seem to help his plight. He was shaking badly.
“Prometheus?”
His body jerked in surprise, and she saw color mount into his face. His shoulders sagged, giving him a defeated look as he raised his head. He didn’t look at her.
“You look upset.”
He turned to her. His eyes were bleak. “I didn’t know you were there, Lady Azar.”
“I’m sorry I startled you.”
His gaze flickered away uncomfortably. “How is Lady Julia?”
“She’s sleeping. I gave her a draught of mandragora for the pain.” Something was terribly wrong and she hoped he would feel free to unburden his mind. “Sit awhile. You look tired.”
Prometheus came reluctantly to the alcove and sat opposite her. His gaze fixed on her hands loosely clasped in her lap. “Were you praying?”
“Yes.”
The muscle moved again. “I pray all the time. It hasn’t done me much good.”
“What’s wrong, Prometheus?”
He bent forward and raked his hands through his hair. Without warning, he started to cry, not quietly, but with deep wrenching sobs that shook his body.
Hadassah leaned forward and put both hands on his head. “What’s happened? How can I help you?” she said, near tears at his distress.
“I thought it was finished,” he sobbed. “I thought when I came to the Lord, he’d wash me as white as snow and forget my sins.”
“He has.”
Prometheus raised his head, tears pouring down his cheeks, his eyes blazing with anger. “Then why does the same thing happen over and over again?”
“What do you mean?”
He put his head in his hands again. “You couldn’t understand.”
“I understand you’re discouraged. So am I.”
He raised his head, surprised. “You? But you’re so strong in the Lord.”
“Strong?” Leaning back, she sighed. “I’m the weakest of women, Prometheus. Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing here or why I came or what the Lord wants of me or whether I want to do what he wants. Life was much easier with Alexander.”
“Lady Julia is difficult.”
“Lady Julia is impossible.”
He gave her a pained smile in understanding and then frowned, distracted by his own problems. He let his breath out slowly. Hands clasped between his knees, he stared at the floor. “No less impossible than I am. I guess some of us just can’t be saved.”
“You are saved, Prometheus.”
He gave a bleak laugh. “I thought so.” He looked at her, eyes moist and tormented. “I’m not so sure anymore.”
“Why do you say this?”
“Because I met a friend today, and he made me aware of it. We talked a long time. I was telling him about the Lord. He was listening to me so intently, and I was so happy. I thought he was going to accept Christ.” He gave another bleak laugh and swallowed. “And then he touched me. I knew when he did, it wasn’t the Lord he wanted at all.”