Cleopas entered. “You’re awake.”
“He’s gone,” she said, turning from the window.
“Someone replaced him several hours ago. The new man is in the fanum across the street. Sit. You’ll need to eat before you leave. You haven’t much time before you must return to Atretes, and I’ve much to tell you before you go. I’ll awaken Lysia. She’s agreed to exchange clothing with you. She’s going to leave with a bundle Caleb’s size. Hopefully, the man outside will follow her.” He left and returned a few minutes later with a tray of food and a pitcher of watered wine. While she ate, he explained the details of what had transpired the night before while she slept.
“The final arrangements are being made as we speak. All you need to do is take the information to Atretes and be at the ship by midnight tomorrow.”
“Do any of those accompanying us know how to reach Atretes’ homeland?”
“No, but John has gone to speak with a man who was in Germania ten years ago. His name is Theophilus and he mentioned wanting to carry the gospel to the frontier. If he chooses to go with you and Atretes now, he can guide you. If not, he’ll be able to draw out a map and give instructions of how best to reach his destination.”
“I don’t think I’ve met him.”
Cleopas smiled. “You would remember him if you had.”
10
Atretes walked through the open, unguarded gate late the following afternoon. He entered the back of the villa and strode through the baths and gymnasium to the inner corridor. Lagos was sitting in the kitchen, eating a modest meal while talking to the cook when their master entered. Both were startled to see him. “My lord!” Lagos said, bumping the table as he rose.
Picking up a loaf of unleavened bread, Atretes tore off half and sat down to eat. Within a few minutes, the cook had placed a plate of fruit, sliced meat, and boiled eggs in front of him. Atretes glanced at Lagos as he peeled an egg. “Did Rizpah return?”
Lagos frowned slightly. “No, my lord. I thought you sent her away.”
“I did.”
“Do you wish me to send for her, my lord?”
“Would you know where to send?” he said dryly.
“Wherever you instruct, my lord.”
Atretes barked a dark laugh and ate the egg. The woman be cursed. He knew where the apostle lived. He would start with him. When he found her, she would wish she had never been born.
In silence, he finished the rest of the food that had been placed before him. Scorning the elegant silver goblet, he drank the wine from the pitcher. Emptying it, he slammed it down, making both slaves jump. Glowering at them contemptuously, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose. “Send Silus to my room,” he said and left.
By the time the guard arrived, Atretes had changed into a fresh tunic and was tying the leather strips of his heavy belt. “We’re going into the city,” he said, picking up a dagger and shoving it into its sheath.
“I’ll send for more guards, my lord.”
“No. Just you. More guards will draw attention.” He pushed the knife into the belt and donned a long flowing Arabic robe. “The woman Rizpah took something I want back.”
“Rizpah, my lord? She was here a short while ago.”
Atretes head came up sharply. “Here?”
“At the gate, not more than an hour ago.” The color was seeping from his face. “She said she wanted to speak with you, but I sent her away.”
“Without telling me?”
Silus stood rigid, whitefaced. “You cast her out, my lord. Your orders were very clear.”
Atretes said one short, exceedingly foul word. “Where is she now? Speak, you fool!”
Silus swallowed. “She left, my lord.”
“Which direction did she go?”
“I don’t know, my lord,” he stammered. “She turned away and I closed the gate.”
Atretes grabbed him by the throat, his heart pounding a battle beat. “Then I suggest you go and find her, fast,” he said through his teeth and shoved him back.
Silus left quickly, the sound of his cingulum jangling loudly as he ran down the corridor to the stairs. Atretes strode out on the balcony and scanned the road. Rizpah was nowhere to be seen. Swearing, he turned and came back inside. Impatience burned through him, he threw off the robe and shouted out a string of German curses.
The house was still and utterly silent. Undoubtedly, the servants had already run for their usual hiding places.
Atretes strode out onto the balcony again. The gate stood open. Silus was running down the road toward the city. Atretes clenched his teeth in frustration.
“Atretes,” came a hushed voice behind him. He swung around and saw Rizpah standing just inside his doorway, a finger to her lips. She closed the door quietly as he came inside.