An Echo in the Darkness(163)

“Then you tell her.”

“I have. I have told her over and over. And I will keep telling her for as long as God allows.”

He heard tears in her voice. “If she hungers for God, she’ll find God the same way I did.”

“Not without your forgiveness, Marcus.”

“Let God forgive her!”

“He will if she but asks, but sometimes people need to be taken by the hand and guided to that moment because they’re too afraid to take the step themselves. Take her by the hand.”

He made a fist. “Curse you,” he breathed. “Curse you for doing this to me.”

Stunned and hurt, she fell silent.

He felt her withdrawal. “I’m sorry,” he said, shutting his eyes. “It’s not you I’m angry with. God asks too much.”

“Does he? Jesus forgave the men who drove the nails into his hands and feet. He forgave the people who mocked him as he hung on the cross. He even forgave the disciples for deserting him. Aren’t we all like that, Marcus? Fallible. Afraid. Weak in our faith. And still Jesus loves us and points the way to real freedom and what it means.” She leaned forward slightly, and he felt her earnestness. “God forgave you in order that you forgive her.”

Marcus rose, angry to be so tormented. He had hoped for a few minutes of interesting conversation, not words to blister his conscience and renew his grief.

“You know in part, Lady Azar. I know the whole. If you knew everything Julia had ever done, you’d understand why I feel as I do.”

“Then tell me.”

“Leave well enough alone!”

“Is it well?”

“Julia can make her own confessions. And if it’s forgiveness she needs, she can go to God for it!”

Hadassah watched him walk away. With a heavy heart, she bowed her head once more in prayer. She remained in the small alcove long after the servants were asleep. She finally rose to go to her own bed.

Marcus, alone and hurting, stood in the shadows of the corridor above, watching her.





47

Marcus sat with his mother on her balcony, talking to her of mundane things as the turtledoves fed upon the bread Iulius had put on the wall for them. He held his mother’s hand, stroking it and wishing she could speak clearly enough for him to understand. When he had first come home, she had repeated “Ha . . . da . . .” over and over again. She would stare into his eyes with such intensity, he was sure she was trying to tell him something. But the constant reminder of Hadassah only served to bring him pain. She must have seen that, for, thankfully, she stopped mentioning Hadassah entirely.

“Ju . . . leee . . . ,” she said today.

“I’ve seen Julia and spoken with her, Mother,” he said, adding no more. “Azar is seeing to all her needs.”

She made a soft sound. Marcus was aware how hard she tried to convey her thoughts to him and that she only relaxed when she had succeeded. He saw her relax now, resting her shoulders back against the cushioned chair. Her mouth sagged slightly, and he kissed her hand and sat in silence, head down, not knowing what to say.

He found less to talk about each time he came to sit with her. What could he say that would offer any consolation? That all was well in the household? That he was happy? No, none of this. Yet he felt his struggles were his own and best kept to himself. What could his mother, bound as she was by her illness, do to help him? He would only burden her further.

Phoebe watched her son and knew all was not well. She felt his unrest. She knew his silence was not a sign of contentment but a troubled heart. He didn’t realize how much Iulius told her about what was going on in her family. She knew Marcus had seen Julia. She also knew he hadn’t forgiven her. Iulius told her Marcus had informed Julia he had decided to set the past aside. Phoebe knew why. He didn’t want to face it.

She often prayed when he was sitting beside her on the balcony. What more can I do, Lord? Let the Spirit give me the words. I plead with you with all my heart for my children. I would pour out my life for them, but who better to know that kind of love than you. You poured out your life for them already. O God, if they could but see, if they could but know and fully realize. Oh, if I could only live to see that day. . . .

“Azar intrigues me,” Marcus said, breaking into her prayer. “I’d like to know more about her, but she always seems to turn the conversation to other matters.”

“Ju . . . lee . . .”

“Yes. Julia. Azar doesn’t leave the bedside until Julia’s sleeping. I understand Azar visits with you daily, as well.”

Phoebe closed her eyes and opened them in answer.

“I suppose she prays with you.”