Hadassah looked at Alexander and saw his grim stance. She wondered what thoughts were going through his mind.
“What do we do now, my lord?” Iulius asked him. “What do I do to take good care of her?”
Alexander gave him instructions on how to prepare nutritious foods that would be easy for her to eat. He told Iulius that he or one of the servants should move Phoebe regularly. “Don’t let her remain in the same position for too many hours a day. She’ll develop pressure sores and bruises that would only aggravate her condition. Massage her muscles and work her arms and legs gently. Beyond that, I don’t know what to tell you.”
Hadassah sat down on the bed and took Phoebe’s other hand. Phoebe moved her eyes until they focused on her, and Hadassah saw that her eyes shone.
Hadassah rubbed her hand. “Iulius will take you out onto the balcony each day that the weather is good so you can feel the sun on your face and hear the birds sing. He knows you understand, my lady.” She raised her head. “Talk to her, Iulius. There’ll be times when she’ll be discouraged and frightened. Remind her that God loves her and he’s with her and no power on earth can take her from the palm of his hand.”
She looked at Phoebe Valerian again. “You have some movement, my lady. Find ways of telling Iulius what you need and what you’re feeling.”
Phoebe closed her eyes and opened them again.
“Good,” Hadassah said. She lightly brushed Phoebe’s cheek with the back of her knuckles. “I’ll come back to visit when I can, my lady.”
Phoebe closed her eyes and opened them again. They filled again with tears.
As Hadassah rose, she took the vial from the small table. She held it out to Iulius. “Throw this away.”
Iulius took the vial and hurled it through the open doors to the balcony, where it shattered upon the tiles. He bowed low. “Thank you, Rapha.”
She returned the bow gravely. “Thank God, Iulius. Thank God.”
Alexander said little on the ride back to the new apartments. He helped Hadassah out of the litter and braced her as she limped toward the door. Rashid had seen them from above and was waiting for them. He lifted Hadassah and carried her up the steps and into the main chamber. He gently lowered her to her feet. She limped over to a couch and sat down, rubbing her bad leg.
Alexander poured a small draft of wine and handed it to her. She removed her veils and sipped.
“What possible life can that woman have, imprisoned in a body that won’t function?” he said, allowing his anger to vent. He poured himself a goblet of Falernian wine. “It would be better if she died. At least then, her soul would be free rather than trapped in that useless shell of a body.”
“She is free, my lord.”
“How can you say that? She can hardly move, let alone walk. She can’t utter an intelligible word. Everything she says comes out meaningless gibberish. She can move her left hand and foot and blink her eyes. And it’s not likely she will ever again be able to do more than that.”
She smiled. “I was never more free than when I was locked in the dungeon waiting to be sent into the arena to die. God was there in the darkness with me, just as he is with her now.”
“What use is she to herself or anyone else?”
She raised her head, her dark eyes flashing. “Who are you to say whether she is of use? She is alive! That is statement enough.” Her anger quieted, and she tried to reassure him. “God has a purpose for her.”
“What possible purpose has anyone in her condition? And what sort of life will it be, Rapha?”
“The life God has given her.”
“Don’t you think it’d be more merciful to end her suffering than allow her to linger in her present condition?”
“You said once that it’s God who decides whether a man lives or dies. Have you changed your mind? Would you now say it’s up to you or some other physician to decide whether she lives? Murder is not an act of mercy, my lord.”
Heat filled his face. “I’m not speaking of murder, and you know it!”
“Indeed, you are, though you would try to cloak it in other words.” She spoke with quiet conviction and sadness. “What else can you call ending someone’s life before God’s time?”
“I don’t consider that a reasonable question, Rapha.”
“What is a reasonable question?”
“One that doesn’t involve celestial interpretation that is beyond the ability of any man to answer.” His mouth tightened. “Perhaps we should talk of something else.”
“Not a sparrow falls from the sky without God knowing. He already knows the moment and reason for Phoebe Valerian’s death. Nothing is hidden from God.” She rested the small clay cup on her lap, knowing what she had to say would hurt him. “Perhaps you aren’t even aware of the deeper reasons you have for wanting to end her life.”