As Sure as the Dawn(120)

“He’s my son, and you’re never going to see the other side of the mountains again,” Atretes said, his hand going white around the handle of his weapon.

“You want to kill me, too?” she said, angry at his obduracy but not surprised by it. “Go ahead, if it pleases you.”

“Be still, Rizpah,” Theophilus said quietly. “Atretes doesn’t seek to harm you. He intends to keep you with him.” He looked at him. “He thinks he has cause against me.”

Atretes was startled that defense should come from that quarter. “I know I have cause against you.”

“Because I’m Roman.”

“That, and other reasons.”

“He thinks you’re making reports at every fort we pass,” Rizpah said in great distress and earned a blistering glare from Atretes.

“If that were so, Atretes, you’d already be apprehended,” Theophilus said to him, looking straight into Atretes’ eyes for he had no motives to hide.

“Not if your intent was to learn Chatti weaknesses and strengths,” Rizpah said.

“Woman, you talk too much!”

“Perhaps you should talk more,” Theophilus said. “I could’ve gleaned what information we needed elsewhere and not roused unnecessary suspicions on your part. I apologize for my lack of sensitivity. I have one purpose, Atretes, and one purpose only in showing you the way back to your people. I want to give them the gospel. I’m called by God to do so, no matter what. If it will set your mind at rest, we won’t stop at any more Roman forts.”

Oddly, Atretes believed him and was even more perplexed.

“What about supplies?” Rizpah said. “We have little grain left.”

“The forests are full of game,” Theophilus said, relaxing back against the packs. “And we’re coming into spring. We’ll find plenty that’s edible growing all around us.”

Atretes studied him. The Rhine was only days away, and it was still a great distance beyond that before they entered Chatti territory.

Sliding the gladius back into its sheath, he reclined and stared into the flames. He would wait to kill Theophilus.

After all, what better sacrifice could he offer Tiwaz upon his homecoming than the blood of a Roman centurion?





29


When they reached a bluff overlooking the Rhine, Atretes raised his fists in the air and gave a bellowing roar that raised the hair on the back of Rizpah’s neck. Theophilus laughed, sharing in Atretes’ joy.

They traveled north along the high bluffs and then cut inland, to avoid entering the territory of the Vangiones, the Triboci, the Nemetes, and the Ubii tribes who lived near the river. They camped near warm springs, and Rizpah bathed with Caleb in comfort while the men went hunting. When they returned, Atretes was carrying over his shoulders a roebuck dressed and ready for roasting.

Night fell quickly in the forests of Germania. Wolves howled. Shadows moved. Sounds were unfamiliar. Rizpah couldn’t rid herself of a gnawing apprehension, even with the sunrise. The land bristled with forests, and she felt enclosed by an oppressive darkness. It was as though someone watched them and kept pace silently among the trees.

A raven lighted on a branch above her, and Rizpah felt herself being pulled back into darker times and beliefs. The huge bird was a bad omen, wasn’t it? She had to remind herself that the raven watching them was created by God, as were the mountains that separated her from the civilization she knew, and the forests through which she walked—even the very air she breathed was brought into being by God’s hand.

O Lord God, the earth and all that’s on it is your creation. You are sovereign of all I see and even that which I cannot see. What have I to fear?

“What’s wrong?” Atretes said, noticing her tension.

“I don’t know,” she said. She looked at Theophilus. “I feel the shadow of death around us.”

Frowning, Atretes looked around. He had been raised to believe women had prophetic powers and acute intuition. He wouldn’t discount Rizpah’s instincts simply because she was Ephesian.

Nothing moved. The stillness made Rizpah’s stomach tighten and her heart pound.

No birds sang. No animals moved. All were in hiding. It had been eleven years since Atretes had fought Romans in these forests, but memory returned and with it full realization. The silence warned him what was coming. He drew his gladius and shouted in German to identify himself. It was already too late, for the baritus started before he’d opened his mouth. The spine-tingling war cry rose in the trees around and above them.

The hair stood on the back of Rizpah’s neck. “What is it?”

The harsh, intermittent roar rose like an unholy chant, made louder and reverberating as the warriors held their shields to their faces, shouting into them and banging them fiercely. The resulting sound was horrendous. Terrifying. Darkly ominous.