Cleopas entered the room again, a fussing Caleb in his arms. “He wants his mother,” he said, looking harried.
Laughing, she took the baby and kissed him. “He’s hungry, and there’s not much you can do about that.” Cleopas showed her into a small alcove where she could be alone to nurse her son. As she did so, she thought of all the things John had said to her and felt peaceful. God knew what he was doing.
Forgive my doubting heart, Lord. Put a right spirit within me. Let me see Atretes through your eyes and not through the eyes of my old self. And if it be your will for us to go to Germania, well, I don’t like it, Lord, but I’ll go.
Nourished and bundled in soft, warm linen, Caleb slept contentedly as she rejoined John and Cleopas in the triclinium.
“Cleopas tells me I had visitors earlier this evening, before you arrived,” John told her. “It would seem Atretes isn’t the only one wanting to leave Ephesus.”
8
Atretes stood on his balcony looking down the road toward the terebinth tree. He hadn’t slept much the night before for thinking about Rizpah and his son. As soon as she had left, he had come here and watched her walk along the dusty road toward the city. One of the men sitting in the shadows of the terebinth tree had watched, risen, and followed.
“I’ve been followed before, Atretes. I know how to hide.”
Those words filled him with unease and raised questions within him. Who had followed her and why? From what or whom had she been hiding?
He had almost gone after her then, but thought better of it. Now he wondered if he had made a mistake after all. What if she didn’t come back? Could he find her? Or would her Christian friends secret her out of Ephesus?
One day had passed. He worked out ways in his mind to enter the city and look for her. He would start by finding and questioning the apostle.
“I know how to hide.”
He ground his teeth in frustration, wishing he hadn’t trusted her. She had his son and he didn’t know where to find her. She had said she was going to the apostle, but that didn’t mean that was where she had gone.
“I’ll send word. I promise, on my life.”
And like a fool, he had let her go. He had let her walk out of the villa with his son. His son.
Hadn’t he trusted Julia all the while his gut instinct had told him what she was the day he had met her in the Artemision. He had gone to her anyway, allowing lust to burn away reason. He had handed her his heart on a platter, and she’d carved it up and devoured it.
And now this cursed woman comes into his life with her beautiful brown eyes and luscious curves, and what does he do? He hands over his son to her. He places his freedom in her hands. He hands over to her the means to destroy him.
Cursing, he turned away from the balcony railing. Struggling to gain control of his riotous emotions, he reentered his bedchamber. He went to the marble table against the wall and sloshed wine into a silver goblet. Draining it, he poured more.
When the pitcher was empty, he held the goblet. Mouth twisting, he stared morosely at the figures of wood nymphs being pursued by satyrs. Julia would have liked it. It would’ve appealed to her sense of carnal adventure.
“I’ll do anything for you, Atretes. Anything.”
Clenching his teeth, he squeezed until the goblet was misshapen. “Then you can die, witch. Die for me,” he said through his teeth and dropped the twisted goblet on the tray.
Stretching out on his bed, he stared at the ceiling. It pressed down on him. He felt the walls closing in. The voices came again, voices of the men he had killed. Groaning, he rose. Dragging several furs off the bed, he went out of the room. Lagos appeared at the foot of the stairs, ever ready to be at his command. Atretes went past him without a word, striding along the inner corridor. There was no sound but the echo of his own footsteps. He went through the baths to the back of the villa. It was cold outside, a wind blowing in from the north. He strode across the yard to the heavy door in the back wall.
“All’s well, my lord,” Silus said. Ignoring him, Atretes flipped up the bar, yanked open the heavy door and went out.
Lagos followed, disturbed. “Did the master say how long he was going to be gone?”
“No, and I didn’t ask.”
“Perhaps someone should follow.”
“If you’re suggesting that someone be me, forget it. Did you see the look on his face? The gate will stay open. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”
Gallus approached from the darkness. “Atretes left again?”
“He’s probably heading for that cave again,” Silus said.
Gallus went outside the gate. Lagos saw him signal someone and then come back inside.