Page 91 of Of Love and Treason
Relief crashed through him. “You don’t have her?”
“Your inability to pay your debts means all your possessions are forfeit. That includes your daughter.” The tribune’s lips went thin. “You have no right to hide her.”
“Am I here because of mydebtsor because of a scroll?” Quintus scrambled to keep up with the tribune’s line of questioning.
Braccus waved the scroll. “This could mean a charge of treason. You took an oath, Quintus Magius. Fealty to the emperor. Fealty to the gods. Fealty to none but Rome. Can you tell me you have not broken your oath and joined rank with the Christians?”
Quintus’s mouth felt full of sand. His mind ran. While debts meant slavery, a charge of treason carried a death sentence. He knew he should speak the truth, but what would that mean for his daughter? Would they punish her too?God, protect her. I cannot.
“Well?” Braccus tapped the scroll on his palm.
Quintus lifted his chin, feeling a strange but welcome surge of strength. “I will honor the emperor. I will uphold my oath to protect him and to protect Rome.”
“Very good.” Braccus’s smile had the distinct tilt of a cat who’d tired of playing with the mouse and was going in for the kill. “And do you swear loyalty to the gods of Rome?”
“No.” Quintus cleared his throat and spoke louder. “I cannot.”
A single, thoughtful nod. “I see.” The ringed index finger tapped the scroll. “And does Speculatore Titus Didius Liberare share similar beliefs?”
Quintus felt his eyebrows crinkle. No. Unfortunately, Titus did not. He shook his head. What was going on here?
Tribune Braccus tossed the scroll on the table and leaned back in his chair, studying Quintus through half-closed eyes. “It’s a pity I can’t trust you anymore.Fortunately—” he jerked forward and picked up a wax tablet and stylus—“I have a friend Icantrust, serving on the front in Germania. The fighting is brutal there. Casualties everyday. Ambushes on speculatore scouts.” He shook his head, grimacing. “Those barbarians are ruthless.”
Please, no.“I’ve been meaning to send him a letter for a while, but now seems like a good time.” He straightened the tablet before him. “Reposting Titus Didius Liberare will be no great matter. My friend will be glad for the speculatore fodder, I’m sure.” He looked hard into Quintus’s eyes. “He’ll be dead in a matter of weeks, if he lasts that long.”
“Don’t do it, sir. I beg you. Titus has nothing to do with this.” As he spoke, the way Titus had rescued Iris from the tribune’s attack rushed his mind. This had little to do with Quintus and everything to do with revenge.
Braccus wrote quickly, his lips twitching as they formed the words along with the stylus. He slapped the two halves shut, wrapped it in a leather cord, and melted sealing wax across the fold. His signet stamped the red wax with a finality that made Quintus flinch.
“Tribune, please—”
Braccus clapped once and a slave entered. Eyes never leaving Quintus, he swung the letter toward the slave, who took it, though Braccus did not let go. “Perhaps I could spare you too, Quintus. You know what I want.”
Quintus clenched his jaw and balled his fists in his lap. “Over my dead body.”
Braccus released the missive and stood with a dismissive smile. “Very well.” His voice nearly cheerful, Braccus turned to the slave. “This goes out with the next correspondence.”
Quintus watched Titus’s fate scramble from the room. He stilled as the tribune studied him, slowly circling the chair where he sat. His world had spun out of his grasp. If Iris had not been home when the tribune’s men had searched their apartment, she was surely on her way by now. If only he could get her away. Keep her safe. He was powerless, sitting here.God, please, protect my daughter.
As if someone had whispered instructions in his ear, he suddenly knew what to do. He took a deep breath.
“Iris can see.”
Braccus stopped circling and cocked his head. “I heard rumors. But I’d hoped they weren’t true.”
“A man prayed for Iris to see again. AChristian. The scroll is mine. I hid it.”
Braccus stared at him.
“But I will hide it no longer. This God has power unlike any other god. And I would know; I’ve faithfully worshiped the others without result.” Quintus knew he had to tread carefully to keep Valens and the others out of trouble. “I hid the scroll because I wanted—Ineededto know more. This God is different. He is all backward and upside-down. He doesn’t war with other gods, has no weakness for drink or women, like our gods. He doesn’t have to scheme for power or work for His deity. He doesn’t need temples made by human hands because He made everything.”
Braccus remained silent. Quintus continued, emboldened, retelling everything he knew with a clarity he didn’t know he had.
The tribune eyed him as he returned to his seat, flicking a hand. “I’ve heard enough.”
He’d listened patiently, his face warring between near interest and scorn. He reached out and picked up the scroll, weighing it in his hands, debating.
“So this ‘True God,’ this Jesus, as you call him—he is the only god?”
