An Echo in the Darkness(81)

And then there was poor Alexander, empathetic to their pain and suffering, striving to be a master physician, yearning for concrete answers to all the ills of mankind.

Remedies, he always thought in terms of remedies! Avoid the midday sun, the morning and evening chill. Be careful not to breathe the air near marshes. Observe the color of your urine. Exercise, sweat, take lots of cleansing baths, get a massage, read aloud, march, run, play. Be cautious of the cut of meat, the type of soil your foods were grown in, the quality of water, and freshness of food.

None of them, not even he, seemed to realize they weren’t just physical beings, that God had left a mark upon them by the simple fact of his creation. They preferred their idols, tangible, possessing capricious characteristics like themselves, easily understood. They wanted something they could manipulate. God was inconceivable, intangible, incomprehensible, unexploitable. They didn’t want a life of self-sacrifice, purity, commitment, a life of Thy will be done, not mine. They wanted to be master of their own life, to have their own way, and be answerable to no one.

And you allow it, Father. You absolutely refuse to violate our free will. O Lord, blessed Jesus, sometimes I wish you would reach down and take hold of us and shake us so hard there would be no one able to deny you—that every man, woman, and child would bow down before you. Forgive us, Lord. Forgive me. I am so discouraged. I saw you at work in those near the baths, but here, Lord, I only see pain and mulish struggle. Father, I see Julia over and over again in their faces. I see her same unquenchable, wanton hunger. Strengthen me, Lord. Please strengthen me.

“I’m going to tell Venescia and her husband that she’ll need to find another physician,” Alexander said, rolling up the scroll.

Hadassah looked up in surprise. “What reason will you give them?”

“The truth,” he said simply. “I’ll tell them you believe her illnesses are of a spiritual nature. I won’t contend against God.” He shoved the scroll into one of the many cubbyholes in the large shelf above the desk. “Perhaps I’ll recommend Vitruvius. He’d contend against anything.”

“Don’t send her to a diviner, my lord. Please.”

“Where do you suggest I send her?”

“Leave that up to her.”

Someone tapped on the door, and Alexander called for them to come in. Rashid entered. “There’s a young man downstairs who was sent to find Rapha. He said his mistress has been struck down by a sudden, strange paralysis. I wouldn’t have bothered you, my lord, but when he told me her name, I thought it best to advise you.”

“What is her name?”

“Phoebe Valerian.”

Hadassah’s head came up sharply. Rashid glanced at her. “You know this name?”

“Everyone knows the name,” Alexander said. “Decimus Andronicus Valerian was one of the wealthiest and most powerful merchants in Rome. According to legend, he started his enterprise here in Ephesus and then moved to the more lucrative hills of Rome, where he flourished. I heard he returned with his family a few years ago to die of a wasting illness. Last I heard, his son, Marcus Lucianus, had taken the reins of the holdings. Was it the son who sent this servant?”

Hadassah’s heart beat wildly.

“He didn’t say who sent him,” Rashid said. “I came to you, my lord, because I know Valerian is a name far more powerful than Magonianus.”

Alexander raised his brows. “Then his message was in the manner of a summons.”

“No, my lord. He pleads as though his life depended on it.”

“Valerian. I’m not sure I want to be involved with someone so powerfully connected,” Alexander said, thinking of his current dilemma over Venescia. He had trouble enough with her. Could he afford to add more risk?

“Tell him we will come, Rashid,” Hadassah said and rose.

Surprised, Alexander protested. “We should think about this!”

“Either you are or you are not a physician, Alexander.”

Hadassah didn’t recognize the servant. He was young and handsome, his skin swarthy. He was the sort of slave Julia would purchase, not Lady Phoebe. “What’s your name?”

“Gaius, my lady.”

She remembered him then as a young boy who’d worked in the kitchen.

“Rashid,” Alexander said, “call for the litter.”

“That won’t be necessary, my lord,” Gaius said, bowing. “There is one waiting for you outside.”

They were carried swiftly to the Valerian villa in the most exclusive section of Ephesus. Alexander lifted Hadassah from the litter and carried her up the marble steps. Another slave had been watching for them and opened the door to greet and usher them in. “This way, my lord,” the young woman said and hurried toward another marble stairway. Alexander glanced into the peristyle and thought it was one of the most beautiful and restful he had ever seen.