“She could have gone anywhere. She could have left Ephesus all together. Why did she choose to attend my sister?”
“Maybe she took pity on her, Valerian. Why question your good fortune? Your sister had no money. Rapha had more than she wanted.”
“What?” Marcus said, stunned.
“Rapha provided for your sister until you returned and moved her into your villa.” Alexander saw this information was new to Marcus and wished he had kept silent. “Money means nothing to Rapha. She gives it away as fast as she receives it.”
“I don’t understand. Why would she help Julia?”
“You’re never going to understand, Valerian.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t know if I ever will.” How many people were there in the world who would give up fame and fortune to care for someone who had tried to kill them?
After a moment, Marcus muttered in a troubled voice, “She reminds me of someone I used to know.”
Alexander went cold, small prickles of apprehension licking up his spine. He studied Valerian’s face.
“I know she comes from the district of Galilee,” Marcus said.
Alexander’s dread grew. “How do you know that?”
“I recognize the accent. And she’s a Christian.” He shook his head and glanced at Alexander, then frowned slightly at the look on the young physician’s face. The man was afraid! “You know something about her, don’t you?”
Someone entered the antechamber. As the sound of footsteps came near the courtyard, Marcus turned slightly and caught a glimpse of a man in long, flowing white robes. The man halted and looked at him with unblinking dark eyes under a red burnoose with a black band.
“You!” Marcus said, recognizing him as the man who had attacked him near the Artemision.
Rashid drew his blade.
“Put the knife away, you fool!” Alexander shouted.
“Who is this man, Amandinus?” Marcus demanded. “And what has he to do with you?”
“I am Amraphel Rashid Ched-or-laomer,” the Arab said coldly.
Marcus assessed him disdainfully. “I suggest you inform me of the reason you tried to slit me open in front of the Artemision. Then you may attempt to do so again.” His eyes glittered. “But I warn you, I am not so easily murdered when attacked face-to-face.”
“Rashid, don’t be a fool!” Alexander said.
A dark, pulsating silence ensued as Rashid measured Marcus. Many young Roman men enjoyed the sport of training for hand-to-hand combat. Valerian was strongly built, and Rashid saw no fear in his eyes.
“You do not respond?” Marcus mocked. He addressed his next words to Alexander who stepped between them. “Who is this man to you, Democedes?”
“A hot-headed fool,” Alexander said, angry to be placed in this position. “Put the knife away, Rashid.”
Rashid ignored the command. Valerian had recognized him. One word from Valerian and Rashid knew he would be dead. If not for his oath to Rapha, he would kill Valerian right now. “What does this Roman pig want?”
“Answers! Now!” Marcus demanded imperiously. “Who is this man?”
“He’s already told you,” Alexander said, angered by Valerian’s innate arrogance. Perhaps it was bred into Romans to think they could command anyone they chose. He fixed Rashid with a furious glare. “Have you forgotten your oath?”
A muscle ticked by Rashid’s right eye. He glared at Marcus a moment longer and then slipped the knife expertly into the scabbard attached to his cloth belt. His hand remained lightly on the hilt.
It was clear to Marcus that he wasn’t going to get any answers from Alexander. The physician stood by, looking between the two of them with an air of annoyance. “What have I to do with you, Ched-or-laomer?” Marcus said, directing the question directly to the stony-faced Arab.
Black eyes burning like coals, Rashid stood contemptuous and silent.
Alexander knew one slight movement on either’s part and one or both of them would die. “As Rashid is too stubborn to speak his mind, I’ll tell you he’s given his oath not to raise his hand against you again.” Alexander didn’t add the conditions upon which Rapha had gained that oath.
Marcus was derisive and unconvinced. His look made it clear he thought Alexander was behind it.
“Think whatever you will, Valerian, but I had nothing to do with his attack on you. Rashid has a mind of his own,” he said, glaring at the hard-faced Arab who had placed him in the untenable situation. Valerian had friends in high places. One word to the right ear and he and Rashid and Hadassah would find themselves in the arena. And this time, no one would come out alive.