“We didn’t have time to bring anything,” Rizpah said.
“John and Cleopas gave us bedding and supplies for you,” Parmenas said.
“Are there many other passengers besides us?”
“About twenty-five to thirty. A few Illyrians and the rest Macedonians,” Mnason said. “The ship’s loaded with expensive cargo destined for Corinth. You can smell the spices from Sheba. The crates the stevedores are loading now are full of purple fabric from Kilmad and the finest embroidered linens from Aram.”
“There are rugs from Canneh as well,” Timon said.
Mnason laughed. “Do you suppose the captain would allow us to unroll a few?”
“Has everyone in our party arrived?” Rizpah said.
“We’re short one member,” Prochorus said.
“Theophilus,” Porcia said, her brow furrowed as she glanced toward the stairs. “What do you suppose is delaying him?”
“Be at ease, Porcia,” Timon said, soothing his wife.
“The ship won’t wait for him.”
“John said he’d come and he’ll come, though I suppose, if he doesn’t make it, he’ll be safer than any of the rest of us here in Ephesus. The city clerk is a personal friend.”
Atretes’ eyes narrowed. “Who is this Theophilus of whom you speak?”
Rizpah put her hand lightly on his arm. “He’s the man who’s agreed to show us the way to Germania,” Rizpah said.
His gaze swept the others and he jerked his chin at her. “We should find a place for ourselves.”
“You can join us, Atretes,” Tibullus said, his youthful face warm and friendly. “The crew showed us a place where we can set up a tent to protect us from the winds.”
“I remain with Rizpah and my son.”
Rizpah’s face flooded with heat. The others stood around them, silent, shocked. Had he no thought of what the others might misconstrue about their relationship? What was he thinking? Or perhaps he knew exactly what he was about. “I’ll be with the women, Atretes.”
His mouth tipped sardonically. “A wife’s place is beside her husband.”
Her face flamed. “I’m not your wife.”
“No, you’re not, but I assume these women are traveling with their husbands and I highly doubt they’d appreciate your intrusive company.”
An embarrassed silence followed as everyone seemed unable to think of anything to say. Too angry to speak herself, she wondered if he meant to make matters worse for her.
Camella pressed forward between Prochorus and Timon. “I heard what you said, Atretes, and you’re quite right. Rizpah, I’m traveling with my brother and his wife, and I’m sure they would appreciate it very much if my intrusive company was removed from their midst.” She smiled at Rizpah. “I’d be delighted if you joined me and my daughter Lysia. Come. I’ll show you where we’ve put our things.”
“Thank you,” Rizpah breathed in relief, eager to depart.
“Bartimaeus and the others aren’t far away,” Rhoda said, and Camella’s eyes flickered slightly. Rizpah sensed Rhoda’s remark was made less to reassure Atretes than to suggest impropriety on the part of her sister-in-law.
“If you’d prefer we remain with you, we’ll do so,” Camella said, ignoring Rhoda and speaking directly to her brother.
The poor man looked harassed. “Do as suits you best, Camella.”
“By all means, do as suits you best,” Rhoda said under her breath and turned away.
Caleb began to fuss. “Take him,” Atretes said, dumping him in her arms.
Rizpah followed Camella. Crew members paused to grin at them.
“Atretes isn’t a Christian, is he?” Camella said, ignoring a sailor who made a comment to her as she passed.
“No, he’s not,” Rizpah said bleakly.
“Not that we’re behaving as Christians ought,” Camella said. She smiled apologetically. “Do you suppose it was the tension between Rhoda and me that made him so eager to leave?”
“I don’t think so.” She doubted Atretes cared. “It’s been a difficult night.” She shuddered in memory of it. She glanced back and saw Atretes had separated himself from the others. Was he thinking over what he had done tonight? Did he feel guilt or remorse? He had said he didn’t, but there had been anguish in the angry words he had spoken to her on the dark road to Ephesus.
O Jesus, please, let him feel the repentance that leads to salvation. Search me, Lord, and cleanse me. Let me be a tool in your hands and not a slave to my weaknesses.
Caleb squirmed in her arms and let out a wail of discontent. “Let me get my things,” Camella said, pausing to take bedding and supplies from a pile stacked against the inner wall of the deck. “There is room over there, near the mast and those barrels.” She glanced at the babe in Rizpah’s arms. “He sounds hungry. You feed him while I go and find the blankets John left for you. Atretes can take care of himself.”