Page 94 of Of Love and Treason
“I remember, but I wouldn’t know how to find it.”
“Anyone can give you directions; they’re well-known. Meet me there tomorrow afternoon. I should be able to get away then. Wait near the entrance to the hedgerow maze.” He brought her as far as the arch of ClaudiusI.
“I can find my way from here.” She stopped under the arch. “I’ll be fine. Find Pater. Find a way to get him out of this.”
He cupped her face in his wide hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his blue eyes heavy with the pain she felt. “I will do everything I can, Iris. I promise. Be safe. I will see you tomorrow.”
He let her go then and she hurried up the road, pausing once to look behind her. He stood watching, the setting sun casting half of his body in brilliant color and the other in shadows. He lifted a hand. She did the same, then turned around and rushed away, racing against the sun to reach the clinic front of Marius and Martha’s villa. Was it a mistake to return? Could she trust Titus not to follow her and discover her friends? She stopped. Her pulse rushed in her ears and her knees felt weak. She could not stay in the street, but did she dare endanger her friends? What if Titus found out that Valentine had remained in the city? Would he turn a blind eye a second time? She couldn’t answer with a definite yes.
Yet where else could she go? Paulina would not welcome her, and Beatrix had already left her home. She had nowhere else to turn.
Jesus, what am I to do? Protect Pater and my friends.
Beams of light extended heavenward from the western horizon,striping the sky in purple and orange. A heavy peace draped over her shoulders, warm and secure. And as if someone had spoken both audibly and inside her own head, the wordsthey are Minerumbled around her, at once gentle and raw with power.
The words offered no assurances, but they comforted, nonetheless.
Her feet started to move.
The lights in the street-front clinic were dark as Iris reached the high-walled villa. She twisted down the narrow alley and knocked at the culina door. Once, twice, three times.
Phoebe opened the door, wearing a wary expression that softened into surprise. “Quinta Magia.” She glanced behind her. “Is your pater with you?”
Iris’s lips trembled and she shook her head. Phoebe swung the door open wider and ushered her into the culina. “Are you all right? Come, I’ll bring you to the mistress.”
The others were sitting in the triclinium when Phoebe entered, Iris in tow. They all froze when she entered, the evening meal spread out before them.
Beatrix, the first to overcome her surprise, leaped to her feet. “Iris, are you all right?” Her eyes crinkled in concern.
Shaking, Iris curled her arms around herself, trying and failing to hold herself together as the tears came.
Beatrix wrapped her arms around Iris’s shoulders. “Have you been hurt?” She looked her over.
Iris shook her head, sucking in a shuddering breath. “They... took Pater.”
XLI
TRAPPED IN THE CITY,the wind held a panicked moan as it sought freedom, blasting around the corners of buildings, shooting through the narrow streets and carrying with it unidentifiable trash that battered Valens’s shins as he used Cato’s spare key and let himself into the clinic. He sighed, latching the door behind him and shutting out all but the wind’s howl. The air in the clinic seemed unearthly still compared to the power in the street.
He scrubbed his hands over his face and yawned. He’d had to leave the villa not long after Iris had come, pale and trembling with the news that her father had been arrested for treason.
Usually he looked forward to his nightly forays into the city—his only means to escape the confines of the villa. Tonight, he could think of nothing but returning. Valens cut through the clinic, emerging into the courtyard, which, while breezy, was protected from the worst of the wind. The stars were out in full force. He tilted his head back, an ache crawling up the center of his chest.
Bookended by two weddings, Valens had attended a meeting of Rome’s church leaders. He’d been looking forward to the meeting and camaraderie, the conversations and study of the Scriptures. Instead, Valens had found himself—and his choice to stand against the emperor’s marriage ban—the subject of debate, again. The vote had been unanimous. The decision made for him. In the space of a few minutes, Valens had been relieved of his church in the Calogarusvilla and reassigned to minister in the Lycian region of Asia Minor along the Anatolian coast. They might as well have banished him to the other side of the world.
Body warmed and blood thumping from the walk, Valens made for the bench nestled on the far side of a concrete planter containing the skeletal remains of an almond tree. His body was tired, but his mind raced. The prospect excited him. At least, the prospect of walking streets in the daylight again, of visiting widows and delivering food baskets. But the thought of leaving Rome, the only city he’d known, a city he loved and served, brought his heart to his throat. He swallowed it down, ticking off the constellations as he walked: Taurus, Orion,Lepus, Caelum—Movement on the bench startled him.
“Iris?” He squinted to be certain. “What are you doing out here?”
The slivered moonlight barely illuminated her face. “Couldn’t sleep.” She spoke softly, hugging her knees to her chest.
“I wish I knew what I could do to help.” He sat beside her. “Tell me again what happened.”
She shook her head and rested her chin on her knees. “I told you everything I know.” But she repeated it all again, voice trembling with barely checked emotion. He wanted to pull her close, tuck her tight against him, and assure her everything would be fine. Instead, he reached out and found her hand, wrapping it in his. To his surprise, she leaned toward him, arms and legs unfolding. She drew in a ragged breath, and he pulled her against him, cradling her head against his chest as she sobbed. He stroked her hair, the gesture sending up waves of the almond-scented soap she’d used to wash it.
“I’m afraid for him.” She struggled to take deep breaths. “I’m sorry my faith is so weak.”
He rubbed a thumb over her shoulder blade. “There’s always a bit of fear in the unknown.” He thought of his own reaction to the church leaders’ news. “We will continue to pray for God’s strength and peace.”
