Yahshua's Bridge Page 4

  “Yes, mistress.” He nodded again, sorry to have to say goodbye to the last horse, sorry to uncover new information about his heritage with no way to inquire further, and now sorry to be having this conversation. He would ask his mother more about their Bedouin bloodline. He wondered why she hadn’t told him.

  “So … would you mind telling me … ”

  This was it. He’d have to tell the truth.

  “Why?”

  “Why what, mistress?” Hands at his sides, he shifted his stance.

  The gold net covering her plaited hair shimmered in the sunlight as she straightened on her couch. She raised a perfectly arched brow. “Why were you in the courtyard in the middle of the night?”

  Alexander’s gaze flickered to his mother. Her eyes widened, but she quickly looked down at her hands.

  She didn’t know about him almost getting caught. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to tell her. Why make her worry? He took a deep breath, unable to make his mouth form words.

  “Well, are you going to answer me?” Her voice was friendly, intoxicating really, like her perfumed scent, but he couldn’t give in to expose his secret.

  Besides, her question sparked an idea. He sent up a quick prayer as he dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

  “No.” The word came out of its own accord.

  “No?” Mistress Calista’s voice rose in shock.

  “No, mistress. I’m not going to answer your question.” Alexander held his breath, readying himself for a knock upside the head. That’s what Master Demetri would give him for such insolence.

  Instead, laughter spilled from Mistress Calista’s beautiful mouth, bubbling on the air around them.

  Alexander dared to meet her gaze then quickly looked down.

  “Then answer me this.”

  “Yes, mistress.” He hoped he could answer at least one question without exposing his secret.

  “Were you in any way planning harm or to cause trouble for Master Demetri?”

  “No, mistress.” He looked up in surprise. “Of course not.”

  Eyes narrowed, she watched him.

  Alexander held her gaze. It didn’t matter that it was insubordinate of him to look her in the eye. She had to believe him.

  “Very well then.” She shrugged off their conversation with a dainty wave of her hand. “It sounds like your favorite word is no today. It’s as if you’re two years old all over again.” She chuckled, laughing at her own wit. She then stopped and studied him. “Come closer.”

  Alexander moved within arm’s reach of his mistress.

  With a wistful gaze, she lifted his chin and brushed her thumb over his cheek.

  The intimate touch sent a sudden need through him to call her Grandmother. He’d never called her that before, nor would he dare. Never had he even thought of her as such. He placed his hand over hers, but then realizing what he did, he removed it, fearing he might be reprimanded for touching her without permission.

  She smiled, mist forming in her eyes. “He should have performed the sublatus.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Then he would have an heir.”

  Ω

  That night, Alexander lay on his mat at the foot of his mother’s bed. As long as Master Demetri didn’t come, he slept there; otherwise, he’d sleep on the floor with the other slaves in their chamber. He should have already been asleep when Mamma swept into the room, but he couldn’t wait to ask her about the Bedouins. He sat up and rested his chin on the edge of her bed.

  Humming, she pulled off her Egyptian coil whose snake-like bands wove from her wrist to her elbow. No other slave had such a bracelet. She let the gold armband clink onto her table. Her smile made her even more beautiful. It was infectious, and Alexander couldn’t keep from grinning.

  “Did you have a good day, Mamma?”

  Startled, she glanced over her shoulder at Alexander. “You should be asleep,” she said, eyes wide and smiling.

  Alexander rested his cheek on the sheet, closed his eyes, and began snoring.

  Mamma giggled and sat on the bed, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder. “Yes, I had a good day. Master was happy.” She glanced at the door. “But he won’t come to me tonight, so you may stay. He’s too tired.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Sleep.” Sighing, she reclined and rested her head on her hand, still needing to put on her night stola.

  “Mamma, did you see those Bedouin men today? The ones with the horses.”

  “Mm, hmm.” She nodded and closed her eyes. “Go to sleep.”

  “One of them spoke to me.”

  “Who?” Mamma’s gaze shot to him, concern reflecting in her eyes. “What’d he say?”

  Alexander shrugged. “I don’t know his name, but he said he knew my grandfather … your father.”

  Mamma straightened. “Mpampas.” She gasped. “Is he well?”

  Alexander nodded, reassuring her and hoping to get his questions answered. “I didn’t know I had a grandfather. I know I’m half Egyptian. I didn’t know I’m also Bedouin.”

  Mamma pursed her lips and sat. She pushed up from the bed and grabbed the brush from her table, keeping her back to Alexander as she brushed her long, black hair.

  “Will you tell me about them?”

  His mother slumped on the bed, her shoulders slouched. She continued to keep her back to him, clasping the brush in front of her as if it might try to escape.

  “Mamma, please.” He had no one else. Did this family love her? Would they love him? How did they get separated? He ached for her to say something.

  Mamma wiped her eyes and sniffed. He went cold. He’d made her cry.

  “It’s too painful.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t.”

  How could he be so heartless? He’d never caused his mamma to cry before. If she wanted him to know, she would have told him a long time ago.

  He wouldn’t ask again.

  Alexander lay back on his mat and tried to go to sleep, but the questions and worry kept buzzing around in his mind. He closed his eyes against the dim light in the chamber, knowing sleep would elude him. The tiles on the floor suddenly felt harder and he rolled onto his side. A shadow fell over him. He peeked out of one eye.

  Mamma.

  She knelt beside him and plucked strands of his hair off his forehead. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That was selfish of me.” She settled onto the floor next to him, holding her snake-like bracelet. “I’ll tell you about my family. Your family.”

  “Elianna, you’re strangling me.” Alexander barely got the words past his throat.

  “Oops. Sorry.” She loosened her grip and held on to his shoulders as he carried her on his back between the revelers.

  Elianna’s family shouted and danced ahead of them in the streets to celebrate Sarah’s marriage to Philetus. Fluted songs from the tibiae carried on the air as people danced all around, some playing lyres, and others shaking sistrums. Cymbals clanged as Alexander ran by.

  Galen, Elianna’s grandfather, limped ahead of them, singing.

  “Go faster!” Elianna shouted, treating him like her own personal chariot.

  “I’m going as fast as I can.” He hurried his steps to catch up with her parents. Alexander and Elianna passed her uncle Paulus. He was only three years older than Alexander, but Paulus never wanted anything to do with him. With his blue eyes and hair combed forward, the resemblance was strong to Galen, although Paulus’s hair was straight. Frowning, Paulus trudged behind the rest of the family, tossing peanuts at his father’s feet.

  “Pappous!” Elianna shouted at Galen. “Look at me!”

  Galen turned, spotting her. “It’s my little light!”

  Elianna giggled as they ran by Galen. She tossed some peanuts over Alexander’s head toward the happy couple. They landed just a few feet in front of Alexander and he laughed as he crunched over them.

  “Throw them higher,” he called, moving between the singers and the musicians playing on the street.

  “But I did!
” Elianna shouted. “They won’t go any higher.”

  Alexander wished he could throw some peanuts too, but with Elianna on his back, he probably wouldn’t get them any farther or higher than his little flame.

  Galen called Elianna his little light, because of her hair. But Alexander thought “flame” a more suitable nickname. One night while the church was gathered and whispering hymns together, he stared at the flame of a candle, watching the orange light dance, melting the wax beneath it. The flame continued to flicker, oblivious to its melting platform that would eventually cause it to extinguish. It cast shadows over the high walls and over the faces of those singing. Elianna had spun over to David that night and crawled up onto his lap. Smiling, she curled against his chest and brushed a lock of her orange hair along his arm, unaware of the dangers surrounding them.

  With Emperor Domitian’s recent edict to be called a god, the church had to be even more cautious. Many said Domitian would be another Nero, which sent fear skittering down a number of spines. It was during Nero’s reign that Paul and Peter, two apostles of Yahshua, were executed. But Elianna, like that candle, continued to dance, oblivious to the wax melting beneath her feet.

  And now, nearly the entire church danced in the streets in celebration of the latest wedding. Alexander wouldn’t even be here right now had he not snuck out. His mother was forced to stay home, but with Master Demetri’s parents back in Alexandria, no one paid attention to him.

  Elianna kept throwing peanuts as Alexander wove between the dancers and singers.

  Alethea skipped around David, tossing nuts in the air, her thick dark curls billowing around her face. The peanuts landed on Sarah and Philetus’s heads.

  Sarah laughed, shaking them off her mantle and veil.

  David smiled and followed along, every once in a while tossing a handful of peanuts, but aiming them more pointedly at Philetus.

  By the time the couple reached the door, Elianna’s chin dug into Alexander’s shoulder and her arms clenched around his neck in a stranglehold.

  Philetus lifted a laughing Sarah into his arms and whisked her over the threshold of his home—which wouldn’t be their home for long, since the next day they would be leaving for Trier, Germania. He stopped to kiss Sarah and everyone cheered—everyone but David. He smiled and chuckled, but Alexander knew David would miss his sister. Philetus, still holding Sarah, kicked the door closed. Everyone tossed peanuts at their door and windows and danced and sang in the street.

  By now, Elianna felt like a boulder on Alexander’s back and he was suffocating, so he peeled her off. Elianna tossed her small basket toward the top of her aunt and uncle’s door, sending the nuts spiraling through the air. The basket came down on a man’s head. He shook off the onslaught and kept on dancing, taking the hands of the next available girl in the street.

  Well, his little flame got them high enough that time, Alexander thought as he rubbed the aches out of his neck and shoulders.

  “Let’s dance!” Elianna grabbed Alexander’s hands and turned him around, laughing and singing.

  Ω

  Her spiraled locks glowed red-orange like the sunset, and her eyes snapped open to chestnut jewels, eyes so much like her mother’s. David could gaze at her all day long. He’d never forget the moment he first held her. Those tiny orbs peered up at him and caught him in their net. His little one had no idea of the power she held.

  It had been a difficult birth, and David refused to name their new baby until Alethea recovered. When Alethea was finally out of danger, they decided on the name Elianna. Because God had answered their prayers. Both Alethea and their baby had survived.

  Since having Elianna, they’d lost two boys. Both died as infants. They were simply too weak to survive. After the last death, it had been so hard on Alethea that she became seriously ill, and David refused to have any more children. It wasn’t easy, but they looked forward to meeting their sons someday in heaven.

  Now his little girl danced in Manius’s courtyard where the church gathered to meet a fellow brother in Christ. This brother recently returned to Rome after years of traveling to and working with the churches all over the empire.

  His name was Aulus.

  David shuddered. The name of the man who dragged his family away to be executed for their faith. He couldn’t shun a brother just because he bore the name of a man he despised.

  Elianna sang and danced, waving her sash in time to the soft music. One of the brothers stood in the corner of the courtyard, playing his lyre. How the scene of his five-year-old little girl brought back memories. So much like her mother.

  Alethea’s laugh carried from the atrium where she stood with some of the women. Normally, she would have been talking with his sister, but Sarah was on her way to Germania now. Sarah’s marriage had made quite an impression on his little Elianna.

  Eleven-year-old Alexander sat cross-legged on a small wall next to where David stood. He tossed nuts at Elianna as she twirled between the church members who stood around chattering, awaiting the big event.

  “Elianna.” Alexander leaned toward David’s little girl.

  She twirled to the wall. When she saw the peanut between Alexander’s fingers, she cupped her hands.

  “Don’t move.” Alexander motioned that he planned to throw it. “Hold still.”

  Elianna nodded, her hands ready.

  Alexander tossed the nut.

  She caught it and squealed with delight. She broke it between her teeth then pried it open with her little fingers. Such small hands. They no longer had dimples near the knuckles. She popped the peanut into her mouth and then swirled away, continuing her dance and song.

  A handful of the nuts from Alexander landed on her head and she giggled with delight.

  David chuckled and held his face to the sun. Life was good.

  The door swung open and Manius came into the courtyard. “Aulus is here.”

  Again, David cringed at the name, but he crossed his arms and forced himself to smile. Aulus was special to Manius. He had led Aulus to the Lord about thirteen years ago, so he was excited to introduce him to the rest of the Christian community.

  David straightened as Manius’s friend walked into the courtyard.

  Elianna, oblivious to the special occasion, skipped toward them, singing as she went. She stopped right before Aulus. The skirt of her stola and her sash fluttered around her legs as she looked up at the large man in front of her.

  Smiling, Aulus bent down.

  David was surprised the man’s appearance didn’t frighten her. After all, a wicked scar ran down his face, and another ravaged his bulging arm.

  Familiar. But it couldn’t be the same man. The man David remembered hated Christians.

  Alexander hopped off the wall. He must have expected her to be frightened as well.

  Elianna slowly reached up and brushed her finger along the scar that ran a path from the man’s right eye down to his mouth. “What happened to your face?”

  That scar. It triggered a dark memory David had hoped would remain buried. He’d seen that scar before. And upon closer study, minus a few wrinkles, he’d seen that face.

  Chuckling, Aulus picked up David’s Elianna and set her on his arm, revealing a missing finger.

  The missing finger. The same hand he’d tried to pry off his body when Aulus swung him through the air.

  “Cute little whelp, isn’t she?” Aulus said.

  The same voice. Whelp. The same word.

  David couldn’t hold on. The force of the spinning courtyard pulled on his limbs, pulled on his body, until suddenly, he found himself hurtling through the air.

  “Let her go!” David shouted.

  The laughter in the courtyard mocked David’s dismay. Mocked his foolishness for believing Aulus wasn’t the same man. It surrounded David as he neared the giant who had dragged away his parents. He could still feel himself flying through the air. Hitting the wall with such force it broke his ribs. He could see Aulus brandishing the chains in
front of his mother. And the laughter. David could still hear it from that night long ago. The laughter that rang through the courtyard today. The laughter from his nightmares. The laughter that was now reality.

  Elianna screamed.

  Alexander reached for her and whisked her away.

  David pinned Aulus to the wall—wishing it were with his sword. Instead, he held him there with his fist on his collar and his forearm to his throat. David trembled with rage. Aulus deserved to die. The man’s feet were off the ground. He was a lot smaller than David remembered. In fact, to his amazement, he towered over the shameless brute.

  He shoved his forearm harder against Aulus’s throat, cutting off the man’s air, cutting off his laughter. How often had he imagined this moment? The moment he would avenge his mother. Again, he could see Aulus’s hands on her, touching her, frightening her. David could hear her screams, see the chains, smell the stench of alcohol on Aulus’s breath. The memory burned like a hot branding iron in David’s mind.

  Vengeance belonged to David and he would end it all right here and now. End the nightmares, end the longing, end the rage. Aulus’s face turned red and David pressed harder. The man was nearly finished. David would finally kill his worst enemy. It was easier than he imagined. Easier than all the visions he played over and over again in his mind. In his visions there was always a fight, and David would endure a few blows. But in the end, David was the victor. Just as he would be now.

  Aulus went limp, his eyes closed.

  “Die, you swine,” David said between clenched teeth.

  He became aware of voices surrounding him, screaming and crying. Men pulled on his arms, and Alethea pounded on him with her fists.

  Manius was grabbing David’s arm. “You’re killing him!”

  “Good. Let him die,” David whispered, keeping his fierce grip on Aulus.

  Galen was there too, pulling on David’s shoulder.

  Others shouted and women screamed. More hands pulled on him, trying to get him off the man.

  “Stop!” Alethea’s voice rang above the crowd. “Please!” She shoved herself between him and Aulus.