He caught firm hold of her and raised her to her feet. Tilting her chin, he smiled. “You’re forgiven, Rizpah.” He brushed her cheek lightly and then said more briskly. “Think no more of it. Had your distress not been genuine, everything might have gone differently at the inn. Your doubt served good purpose.”
Caleb roused. Theophilus stepped past her and took him from his basket. Caleb cried louder. “It would appear only his mother will do,” he said with a laugh and handed the baby to her. “I’ll carry the basket.” Caleb snuggled against her, peering at Theophilus from the safety of her arms. He let out a squeal and leaned toward Theophilus, who chucked him playfully under the chin.
“It was fortunate you found us when you did,” she said as they walked together.
“I knew within hours where to find you. I told you Atretes would make it easy.” He shook his head. “He has more courage than sense.”
“What sort of trouble will this bring upon your head, Theophilus? You’re still in service to the emperor.”
“Not as of two days ago. My required twenty years of service were completed five years ago. Now I have asked permission to retire, and Titus granted it. I have in my possession a proclamation with his seal giving me the right to claim a portion of land in any frontier province of my choosing. He suggested several where there are civitates started and run by retired soldiers; Gaul for one, and Britannia.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “He made no mention of Germania, nor did I.” They reached the narrow stone doorway to the catacombs.
Theophilus went ahead of her down the steep stairway cut into the soft Latium tufa, his hand beneath her arm to give her support. “Don’t be alarmed by the appearance of the place,” he said. “Your customs are somewhat different in Ionia. These tunnels have been here for several generations. Gunderius Severas Novatian was the first of many to be entombed here. His great- grandson, Tiberias, heard the apostle Paul speak before Caesar and was redeemed by Christ that day. Before he died of a fever, he told his sister to use this place as a sanctuary for those who had need of it.”
The stairway ended and followed a short, narrow earthen passageway to an underground chamber, called a cubicula, that constituted the nucleus of the family vault. It was illuminated by a pitlike opening in the ceiling that had served for removal of earth during the excavation.
The room was cool, a large natural spring filling a tiled refrigeria used for funeral libations. The walls of the cubicula were plastered and frescoed with flowers, birds, and animals.
Two arcosolia were before her. These cells for the dead had been hollowed out of the tufa, plastered, and sealed with horizontal slabs for lids over the graves surmounted by two arches. In the lunette of one was a fresco of Hercules bringing the heroic Alcestis back from Hades to her husband, Admetus, for whom she had sacrificed her life. The legendary scene symbolized conjugal love. In the other lunette was a fresco of Hercules killing the Hydra.
Another cubicula opened off to Rizpah’s right. In it was a single arcosolium. The lunette bore the fresco of an orant, a draped man or woman with arms outstretched in prayer. The closure bore the name Tiberias.
“This way,” Theophilus said, his deep voice echoing softly in the stillness.
Rizpah followed him through a doorway to her left. She drew in her breath softly as she saw the tunnel stretch ahead. The catacomb smelled of damp earth, sweet spices, and incense. Rectangular niches called loculi had been dug into the tufa walls and sealed with a brick or marble slab door. She knew each loculus contained a body. Small terra-cotta lamps filled with scented oil were placed above many of the tombs, filling the somber gallery with flickering light and the cloying aroma of perfume that mingled with the smell of decay.
Drawing Caleb closer, she walked along the passageway, looking at the doors of the tombs beside and above her on either side. Each bore a name: Pamphilus, Constantia, Pretextatus, Honorius, Commodilla, Marcellinus, Maius. She saw an anchor cut into one slab, a peacock symbolizing eternal life on another, two fish and a loaf of bread on a third.
Theophilus turned a corner, and she followed him by another arcosolium with the vivid colors of a fresco depicting the Good Shepherd with the lost lamb over his shoulders.
“Are all these departed ones Christians?” she said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears.
“Eighty-seven of them are, most in the newer tombs near the bottom where we are. The ones higher up are the older tombs and hold members of the Novatian family. Friends of the family were also allowed to bury their dead here. There are also several generations of slaves accounted for among the loculi.”