Atretes was too filled with emotion to speak more and held tight to her. All this time, he had thought she was dead or a slave.
She kissed both his cheeks and then his mouth. “I knew you would return.” She stroked his hair back from his face tenderly. “Even when all those around me gave up hope, I knew Tiwaz would protect you and bring you back to us.”
As Atretes rose, she put her hand on his arm. Her gaze swept the crowd as though searching for someone and came to rest upon Rizpah.
Rizpah saw recognition flicker in the beautiful blue eyes so much like Atretes’. The woman smiled at her and said, “She is with you.”
“My wife, Rizpah,” Atretes said.
“And the child?”
“My son.”
A murmur went through the crowd, whispers of surprise and curiosity. “So dark,” someone said. Atretes took the boy from Rizpah and held him high so all could see. “His name is Caleb.”
“Caleb!” all shouted, and Rizpah expected Caleb to start crying from the boisterous, frightening sound that rose. Instead, he gave an excited laugh, reveling in the attention. Grinning, Atretes handed the child back to her. She held him close. She could feel everyone staring at her and heard those words again, “So dark . . .”
Freyja looked at the man standing beside her son’s wife and knew only that he was Roman. He looked back at her, eyes warm and without subterfuge. Fear gripped her, unreasoning and inexplicable. “Who is this man?”
Theophilus stepped forward and bowed his head in respect. When he spoke, it was in flawless German, even his accent matching that of the Chatti. “My name is Theophilus, my lady, and I come in peace as an ambassador for Jesus Christ, son of the living God.”
Freyja felt a tremor. She glanced up at her son. “Who is this Jesus Christ?”
Astounded, Atretes stared at Theophilus.
Theophilus answered, “Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” He held his hands toward the stars beginning to appear in the sky. “‘For by him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, and in him all things hold together.’”
Rizpah’s heart raced as she realized she, too, understood every word spoken in German. What was more, she knew she could speak as well. “My lady,” she said, joy filling her as she came forward to stand beside Theophilus, “mother of my husband, I beg of you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to the God who created you, the God who loves you and calls you to repentance.”
The people drew back in fear, their whispers louder.
Atretes stared at her, awestruck. “You’re both speaking German.”
“Yes,” she said, eyes alight. “Yes! The Lord has given us the gift of tongues that we might bring the good news. Oh, Atretes, God is with us!”
Freyja recoiled inwardly at the words. Fear filled her as she looked from Rizpah’s shining face to Theophilus, who stood so calm beside her. She sensed power, terrifying, awesome power, and her hand tightened upon Atretes’ arm.
“You speak of repentance?” came a woman’s mocking voice, and silence fell again, heads turning. A current of deep emotion spread through the gathered crowd, and the people parted like a sea, opening a way before a beautiful young woman who stood just outside the door of one of the longhouses.
“Ania,” Atretes breathed in shock, his heart jumping.
Rizpah glanced at him, recognizing the name of his first wife, and her joy evaporated. Overcome by shock, she looked at the young woman, who was more beautiful and sensual than any she had ever seen. And young, so young, not more than twenty. How could this girl be his first wife? Long, flowing blonde hair curled about her face and shoulders and spilled down over her back to her waist. She was dressed in white like Atretes’ mother and wore a similar pendant. Her mouth curved as she walked toward Atretes with a singular grace that drew his attention to the lush, perfect curves of her body. Many bowed their heads as she passed by, but no one touched her as they had Freyja. The silence pulsed, and she didn’t stop walking until she stood before him. Her gaze drifted over him provocatively.
“Ania is dead,” she told him, her voice cool and melodious. “I’m Anomia. Do you remember me?”
“Her little sister,” Atretes said. He gave a surprised laugh. “You were just a child.”
Anomia arched one brow. “You’ve been gone eleven years, Atretes. You’ve changed, too.” She lifted a slender hand with long, elegant nails and placed it lightly over his heart.
Rizpah saw his eyes flicker in reaction.
Theophilus watched Anomia, feeling the darkness within her like a palpable force repelling him. As though sensing his perusal, she turned her head slowly and looked straight at him with cold, opaque blue eyes. Without blinking, her gaze drifted smoothly from him to Rizpah. She smiled contemptuously, dismissing her, and gave Atretes her full attention again.