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“Yes,” he said.
“But he tried to kill you.”
“Yes,” Marcus said, “I know. He believes himself to have good reason to do so.”
The boy struggled on the ground. “Murderer,” he shouted when his face was no longer buried in the dirt. “Kidnapper. May your skin be blighted and your children die in their mother’s womb. May your days be full of pain, may your death be horrible and your afterlife worse.”
“A mouthful for such a small boy,” Marcus said, whistling admiringly.
“I’m not small,” the boy said.
When Marcus signaled once again for the slaves to let the boy go, he ran straight for Marcus and would have gouged out his eyes had Marcus not been prepared for the assault.
“Go get Annia,” Marcus ordered one of the slaves.
“Who is Annia?” the slave asked.
The boy grew still.
“My mother?” he asked, his voice quavering.
“The new woman we brought in last night with her baby.”
The slave moved through the door behind Marcus.
“So you are the slave trader,” the boy said through clenched teeth.
Marcus held him securely, his arms crossed behind him. The boy was stronger than he looked, just like his mother, and just as quick and lithe.
“You look very much like your mother,” Marcus said.
“No,” the boy said.
The moment Marcus relaxed his grip, the boy slipped from Marcus’s grasp and bolted for the open door.
Marcus watched him run past the slave and into his mother’s arms, knocking her to the ground with the force of his crazed embrace.
Marcus knew they were both crying, and he called the slave off.
“Leave them be,” Marcus said. “They have much to talk about.”
Marcus walked into the villa, trying to remember what it was that had brought him in.
The bags. That was it. He needed bags for the sheep’s wool.
His father met him halfway down the villa walkway.
“I think we need to talk,” his father said, and pulled Marcus into his study.
“Who was the child?” his father asked.
“The son of Annia, the woman we brought in last night.”
His father looked past him into the atrium where water flowed peacefully into the impluvium from the openmouthed cherubs.
“I fear this child spells trouble for us all,” he said.
“Yes,” Marcus said, “but the trouble began before the child came, though he has certainly multiplied it. One of my men reported to me this morning that Galerius Janius—the man who ordered the baby exposed—does not believe she was actually exposed.”
“Do you think he will come looking for you?” his father asked.
“He already has,” Marcus said. “In the barracks. There is no danger of him following me home. The men don’t know where I live,” he added.
“And the boy?” his father queried. “How did he find you?”
“I think he must have followed me from his father’s house. I saw him watching us from the window when I reported to the father that the deed was done.” Marcus squirmed uncomfortably on the small wooden folding bench that sat in front of his father’s massive ivory-inlaid ebony desk.
“Do you think anyone followed him?” his father said.
“I don’t think so,” Marcus said, “though I can’t be sure.”
“Well,” his father said, “we must do what we can to protect the other women and children we have housed here. We can’t risk the lives of so many.”
“What do you propose, Father?” Marcus asked.
“They must go.”
“Go?” Marcus repeated. “But where?”
“Far from here,” his father said.
“Give me two days, Father. I think I might be able to come up with another solution.”
His father studied him. “You are an experienced soldier. Battle-hardened and wise. But something about this woman... Otherwise, why would you risk so many lives?”
Marcus felt his stomach tighten. “I know what it must seem like to you, Father, but I think that a better plan can be found. And you needn’t worry. She is not the right woman for me. But it is a matter of honor to protect her.” He believed his own words. She was not the right woman for him. But she was lovely.
“Make it fast, son,” his father said. “You have no time to lose.”
Chapter Six
“I thought you had died, Mama,” Annia’s son Cato said, lapsing into his baby name for her, “and I thought the baby was eaten by dogs.”
“We are both here, safe and sound,” she said. She hugged him hard, so hard that he pulled away.
“Mother,” he said, reverting to the formal address, “you are suffocating me.”
Annia laughed. “I am sorry. I am just so happy to see you.”
“And you say the soldier, Marcus, saved you? Brought you here to this safe place?”
Annia nodded and smiled. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Marcus slip through the gate again and come out in the green pasture. He sat with them beneath the gnarled olive tree.
Cato turned to Marcus. “I owe you an apology. You’ve saved my mother and my baby sister. For that, I am eternally grateful. Accept my apology?”
Marcus stood and shook Cato’s hand as if he were a grown man.
“I accept,” Marcus said.
Annia tried not to smile overmuch.
Cato dropped Marcus’s hand and offered him a stiff salute.
Marcus nodded. “Very good, son, very good. You will make a Roman soldier yet.”
Cato’s smile covered his entire face.
Annia wondered when the last time Galerius Janius had paid attention to his son, as Marcus had just done, or offered the boy hope for the future.
“How do you like my home?” Marcus motioned for the boy to sit down and then sat down beside him.
“Very much. It is quite lovely.” Cato turned to his mother. “There are so many babies here, Mother. More than I’ve ever seen in one place in my life. I had to dodge them running through the villa to find you.”
Annia nodded. “Scribonia is the mother at this house. She has been saving babies whose mothers want to keep them, but whose fathers have ordered to be exposed.”
“And my job,” Marcus added, “is to help make certain the babies make it here safely. And the mothers, too, if that is their heart’s desire.”
Annia caught him stealing a glance. She looked away but blushed. She was half embarrassed and half proud of the fight she had put up against him.
Cato nodded solemnly. “When I’m a father,” he said, “I’m going to keep all of my babies.”
Annia laughed.
Marcus patted his back, and Cato pointed to the baby. “She is lovely, Mother, sweet and pink. I’m so glad I could see her. She looks so comfortable there.” His voice was wistful as if he longed to be the baby in the front pack.
Growing up was hard. Harder when your family fell apart when you were ten. How awful this had to be for him. Divorce was common in Rome. But that it was common certainly made it no easier on the children.
Annia unwrapped baby Maelia. “Would you like to hold your new sister?” she asked.
He smiled in answer and held his arms out for the babe. Annia eased Maelia onto his lap.
Annia looked at her two beautiful children. She had not expected to be allowed this joy, this pleasure, ever again. Annia smiled over his head at Marcus. She hoped he understood how very much she appreciated all he had done for her.
He smiled back.
But she needed her third child, Flavius, now more than ever.
Cato held his baby sister and kissed her head. “I will never leave her,” Cato said solemnly. “I’ll protect her. Father doesn’t want her, but I do. Why doesn’t Father want her, Mother? Why doesn’t he want you?”
Marcus’s instant scowl told her all she needed to know about his feelings for Galerius Janius.
“I don’t know why your father doesn’t want us, Cato. I think he believes that money and power give him happiness. You must remember that true joy comes from God alone. If you read your scripture and pray, if you find good friends who believe in the one God as you do, and live a life of love, you can find happiness.”
“I know all of that, Mother,” he said, exasperated. “You’ve taught us that since I was a baby.”
Annia smiled and took his hand and squeezed it. “You are a good student, Cato.”
He smiled, but she could tell there was something on his mind that he needed to say.
“Father’s new wife doesn’t know the Christ. And Father has changed the altar. It’s to Hera now,” he said, “and some other gods and goddesses that I don’t know.”
Annia’s heart beat hard in her chest. This was not good news. This was very frightening. The lives of her boys were in grave danger.
She exchanged a glance with Marcus.
“Has she said anything to you about your worship?” Marcus said.
“No,” Cato said, “but Father doesn’t answer our questions, so I’m not sure what to do.”
Emperor Claudius cast a blind eye on Jewish believers, but for the Romans who were not Jewish, and who had accepted the one God, he was not so forgiving.
“You must be very careful,” Annia said.
“Oh, we are,” Cato said. “One morning, she saw us worshipping. We do our scripture reading and singing and prayer every morning, just like you taught us.”
“And what did she say to you?” Annia asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice.
“She asked what we were doing, and we shared the good news of the Christ with her,” he said, smiling broadly.
Annia’s mouth was a grim line.
Marcus stood.
“You aren’t pleased, Mother?” he asked, his face falling.
“Oh, my child, I am so pleased,” she said. “It’s what the Christ called us to do. It’s just that you must be very, very careful.”
“Should we stop our morning prayers?” he asked, his face scrunched as if he were trying to absorb words he didn’t understand.
She took his hand and said, “Never stop your morning prayers. The peace you receive will help you throughout the day.”
He nodded solemnly.
Annia smiled. “There are many things in this world I don’t understand. But what I do know is that I love you and want you, and am so happy you are here I can hardly stand it.”
“I must take my leave of you,” Marcus said. He took Annia’s hand in parting. “I will do what I can,” he whispered to Annia. “Your other son. He needs to be here, safe with you. I will make it so.”
Tears rose in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said.
