As Sure as the Dawn(84)

“Nothing’s wrong. He’s teething. He hurts, and I can’t do anything to soothe—”

“Give him to me.”

“I thought you were going to a banquet this evening.”

He looked at her, brows raised slightly.

Heat flooded her cheeks, and she was immediately ashamed. She sounded like a nagging wife and she was nothing to him. He took Caleb from her, and she lowered her eyes, mortified. As Atretes straightened, she could feel him staring at her, willing her to look up at him. She closed her eyes and fought her roiling emotions. If he didn’t leave soon, she would completely humiliate herself by dissolving into tears.

He left her small servants quarters, and she took a ragged breath, relieved that he had said nothing to mock her.

She knew what was wrong. O Lord, she knew, but prayed Atretes didn’t. She was in love with the wretched man and jealous over the lovely, wealthy women who fawned over and petted him. She had loved Shimei, but it had been a sweet love, full of tenderness as he led her closer to the Lord. She had never felt the fierce, frightening, heart-pounding passions Atretes roused in her. Surely such feelings were not of God. They made her feel vulnerable. The man touched her, and she trembled. He looked at her, and her insides melted. She put her clenched fists against her burning eyes.

Atretes stretched out on the bed, waiting for Rizpah to come back into the room, willing her to do so. He put his fretting son on his chest and let him chew on the ivory chip. When Caleb began to quiet, he took the chip away, knowing his crying would bring Rizpah quicker than any command he might give her. The woman didn’t have a submissive bone in her body. Just as he thought, a moment later she appeared around the corner. As she did so, he gave the chip back to Caleb to calm him again. She started to turn away.

“Count the money and tell me how much there is,” he said, annoyed. He watched her walk to the foot of the bed, pick up the pouch and pour the gold coins into her hand. She told him how much there was.

“This is more than you had with you when we left Ephesus.”

“Not enough to get us to Germania.”

She poured the coins back into the pouch.

Her expression was telling. “You have something to say?” he asked, his voice challenging.

She raised her head, her beautiful dark eyes meeting his. “Would you listen?” she said quietly.

“If your words have any merit.”

“You have enough now, Atretes,” she said, not rising to his provocation. “The Lord has provided you with the means to return home.”

“There are other things to consider,” he said coolly.

“What things?” A muscle tightened in his jaw but he didn’t answer. She moved to the table near the head of the bed and put the pouch on it. “Sometimes I find myself wondering if you’re so conditioned to fighting for your life that you only feel comfortable when your life is at risk.”

“Don’t talk like a fool.”

“Is it foolish? The longer we remain, the greater the risk becomes. And you know it.” She leaned down to take Caleb. “I think money is the least of the reasons we are here,” she said, straightening.

His eyes flashed. “Then why do you think we’re here?”

She hesitated and then told him the truth. “There’s a part of you that wants to fight again.”





19


Bato came the following night. He spread out a map on the table. Atretes held the clay lamp over it. “Here’s Rome,” Bato told him, tapping his finger on the scroll. “All of this is Germania,” he said, sweeping it up and across a broad portion of the map. “I hope you know exactly where you’re going.”

Atretes set the lamp down and held the scroll open, staring at it bleakly.

What Rizpah had said had plagued him for the past two days. She was right, and it disturbed him no small bit. The battle aboard the Alexandrian had brought back the heated rush he had always felt in the arena. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it or how good it had sometimes felt. He felt it here, in this inn, facing the crowds and waiting.

But waiting for what? To be locked in a cell again and brought out only for training, viewing, and fighting in the arena?

He shook the thoughts from his head. He was faced with even worse questions at the moment. He looked at the map on the table and was overwhelmed with a terrible realization: It had been ten years since he had been brought in chains by wagon across the mountains and down the boot of Italy past Rome to Capua. It had taken months to make the journey, long, arduous months of travel, attempted escapes, and savage beatings. He had given no thought to memorizing landmarks or townships. Instead, hatred had fed upon him and given him reason to live, all the while blinding him to what he needed to remember in order to return to his homeland.