Page 71 of Of Love and Treason
Gaius Favius groaned and ran his hands over his face in frustration. “I rue the day my son set eyes on your mother. I knew she’d bring nothing but trouble, and I am never wrong.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d said such things. According to Aunt Beatrix, Gaius Favius had toasted the gods the night Valentine’s mother died giving him life. He’d celebrated and then ordered his servants to go seize the infant and expose him on the banks of the Tiber. All because his mother had been a Christian. Beatrix said she’d found Valens crying on her doorstep the following morning. She hadn’t known who’d brought him back, until his father showed up fifteen years later to claim him as heir after a second marriage to a more “suitable” bride failed to produce a child. By then Valens had already claimed the faith of his mother and aunt as his own, and neither his father nor grandfather could sway him otherwise—though Grandfather’s methods had grown increasingly violent after his father’s death.
Grandfather heaved a sigh. “If you insist upon this civil disobedience, I must demand you keep it quiet.” He leveled a stern gaze at Valens. “Do not think you are safe because the eye of the emperor is on the barbarians. The Senate and Praetorian prefect, with pressure from the priests, are adamant about upholding the matters of state and the city. They will not see it fall into anarchy because the emperor is away.”
Valens’s brow furrowed. Did he refer to his faith or—? No. He couldn’t possibly know about the contracts. The note he’d sent to the notarii office must have been simply a warning away from preaching. Sweat prickled his hairline and he resisted the urge to shift. He took a slow, deep breath.
Grandfather continued, dropping his gaze to his hands. “You have heard, I’m sure, that Emperor Claudius will enforce the anti-Christian policies of Emperor Septimius Severus?”
Valens nodded.
“Rome has long been successful in battle when we faithfully worshiped the gods. There has been a great falling away of late, and it shows in the weakness of the empire.” He hesitated a moment, then went on with a pointed look. “While the emperor battles the enemies outside, it is the duty of every good Roman to protect the mother-city from the enemy within.”
The news took a moment to sink in.
“Grandfather, the Christians are no threat to anyone. We are commanded to love the Lord our God and to love our neighbors.”
“Yet who do you proclaim as god?” Grandfather tore a piece of bread from the loaf on the table between them.
His grandfather already knew what he would say. The argument was an old one, deeply rutted on both sides.
“Jesus the Christ is God and there is no other.”
“And therein lies the problem. The emperor will not share his glory with a god who does not acknowledge his deity.”
“And God does not shareHisglory with a mere man.”
“Confound you, Valentine.” Grandfather threw the bread on the table. It bounced off and flopped to the floor. The crow lurched for it in a rush of obsidian wings, and the peacock woke with a screech. “I cannot save you again. I cannot.” He swung his feet to the floor and straightened, his voice rising in agitation.
“Again?” Valens’s anger rose. “Wasn’t it your idea to have me arrested in the first place? How was thatsavingme?”
“It was a warning. Showing you what could happen—whatwillhappen if you continue on this course.” Grandfather’s face darkened, spit forming in the corners of his mouth. He beat a shaking fist against his chest. “I am the chief augur. I interpret the will of Jupiter, Best and Greatest. Your disbelief threatens everything—my position, my wealth, my very life.” He shook a crooked finger in Valens’s direction. “And do you care? No. You’re reckless and defiant. Don’t you understand I’m trying to help, to—to save you from yourself?”
Valens leaned forward. “I have been saved already, Grandfather.”
“Valentine,please. You must stop this nonsense.” His voicedropped, suddenly weary, and he twisted gnarled hands in his lap. “Things have been set in motion that I cannot undo. I do not know how soon the Severan policies will be in full effect. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps next month.”
Normally Valens would be among the first to know. “Which of his policies?” Valens tore off a bit of bread, smothered it in a spread of goat cheese and mashed fig, and shoved it in his mouth.
“An edict to outlaw the spread of Christianity.”
Valens swallowed too soon, and the softness of the bread went down with the ease of a mountain. “That is already in effect.” He winced, touching his throat and taking a sip of wine.
“Not like this.” Grandfather shook his head. “Thistime it will be subtle, underhand.”
“What can they do that they haven’t already done? I’ve already been imprisoned. That didn’t seemsubtleto me.”
His grandfather’s eyes swept away with a flicker of guilt, but he did not hesitate when he spoke. “Merchants will no longer serve known Christians. Good Romans will be forbidden to patronize the shops of known Christians. Doctors and apothecaries will be forbidden to admit and care for them. When a Christian’s shop is identified, so also will all those who enter the shop be. Quietly marked. Every last one of you. And once the prefect can get the emperor to agree, it will not be forced labor in the stone quarries and galley ships; it will be execution for you all.”
Valens closed his eyes.God, give us strength. The ability to trust You completely, no matter what.
“The signs from Jupiter favor these policies. Please, Valentine.” His voice cracked. “I have lost your father—my only son. A man should not have to lose both son and grandson. Icansave you, but only if you recant.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Please. You’re all I have left.”
“I am sorry to cause you pain, Grandfather.” Valens’s chest went tight until he thought it might crush him. “But I cannot, and will not, renounce my God.”
Grandfather swallowed. Straightened his shoulders. Refused tomeet his eye. “Then I disown you this day. You are no longer heir to all I own, but a stranger to me.”
Valens sat stunned for a moment. His grandfather kept his gaze averted. They had never been close—Valens’s faith a constant warp in their relationship—but never had it separated them with such permanence. Valens returned his cup to the table and stood, trying to catch his grandfather’s eye, stubbornly set on the dozing peacock.
