Page 52 of Of Love and Treason
WHILEIRIS’S PATER DID SOMETHINGin the holding cell that made a lot of clicking sounds, Markos brought in the evening meal and left it on the desk. The barley bread and cold fish cakes sat untouched while Iris paced, waiting for her father to finish.
The office allowed a mere six paces between the front entrance and the door leading to the cells. To be safe, Iris only counted five before turning. Thoughts of Valentine raced through her mind. Where had he gone? Had he taken a trip with friends and forgotten to tell Beatrix? Had he left a note she hadn’t found? Or had he run off with his lover, as her father had suggested? An uncalled-for twinge of jealousy snaked through her. She had no right to it, but it rankled all the same.
She couldn’t imagine him doing any of those things. Valentine was different. Considerate. He made her feelseen. He cared enough to treat her with dignity and speak to her as an equal and not somehow lesser because of her sightlessness. And then he’d revealed that his god had given her the flashes of sight. The subsequent questions would drive her mad if they went unanswered for much longer.
Lost in thought, Iris paced too far and slammed into the wall. Rubbing the sting from her forehead, she muttered beneath her breath. The iron door dragged open, hinges groaning. She could hear Pater’s exhaustion in the longer scrape of his limp.
“Markos brought dinner.” She moved toward the desk. “Is everything all right?”
Pater snorted as if clearing his nose. “Two days in the Tullianum with Hades is usually enough to make anyone beg to follow the law. Not so with this prisoner.” He limped to the desk and sat with a groan. “I hate to have to beat him into obedience, but maybe I’ll call Titus to do it. It’d be nice to have him here too. The three of us, like old times.” A wistful tone lingered in his words and Iris found herself wondering if the three of them would ever be together again once she and her father left the city. The chair crackled as Pater settled himself into it.
Iris felt for the basket Markos had brought and set out the fish cakes and bread, then measured watered wine into a clay tumbler. She listened to the trickle start with a deep slosh that rose and softened to a bubbly whisper. Setting the amphora down, she took a deep breath. The seeds of a desperate idea had begun their work as she’d paced the office. Iris rushed on before caution could silence her.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you about the reason for the flashes of sight.” She twisted her fingers into the sides of her dress.
“Yes, as the chief augur said, you will see again.”
Iris set the tumbler in front of him. “I believe that.” She took a deep breath and swallowed. “But not because of Jupiter.”
He took a drink. “What do you mean?”
She pressed her fingers into the edge of the desk, drawing a wobbly strength. “I never told you that on the days I had the glimpses, I’d met a man in the bakery and at the market who prayed for me.”
Pater stopped chewing. “Who?”
“The same man who helped me walk you home from the tavern.”
“I don’t remember much from that night.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter because the last time I saw him, he saidhewasn’t responsible for my sight; hisgodwas.”
“Which god?” Pater’s voice sounded strangely breathless.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “The Christian god.”
“Iris, no. You can’t get mixed up with those people. They’re dangerous.”
“But it’s theone thingwe haven’t tried.” She heard the muffled gurgles of fish washed down with wine and the high-pitched bubbling of the tumbler being refilled.
“We’ve been trying to earn the gods’ favor for years! Going to the Christians will only set us back further.” The amphora thunked onto the desk, rattling stacks of tablets.
Her lips tightened, and her voice dropped. “Yes, well, obviously our loyalty has done us great favors.”
He shushed her. “Don’t speak like that!” The chair creaked as he leaned forward. “The augurs have read the birds; Jupiter says you’ll be healed.”
“By which god?”
Pater didn’t answer.
“What if the Christian god is the one with all the power?” Her secret thought, finally spoken, came out weak and whispered.
“Don’t be ridiculous. If he had any sort of power, his worshipers wouldn’t be imprisoned and killed.”
Tears heated her eyes. “Please, Pater, we have nothing to lose, and it would put my wonderings to rest.”
Her pater did not speak, nor did she hear him eating or drinking. Finally he sighed. “If I let you talk to a Christian, will you stop this nonsense?”
She straightened, hope surging. “Do you mean it? You’ll let me go to them? Because I think I know where I can—”
