“She also has the jewelry that was Jason’s inheritance,” Titus added. “But you said that others had already come forward claiming to be heirs? I suppose they have backers whose word is worth as much as mine.”
“Not quite.” Arminius smiled. “There have been several, yes. But most could not possibly be true simply because of incorrect timing, not to mention that neither Jason nor Cleopas mentioned them once, whereas Abigail here was an oft-spoken of figure in their correspondences.”
Abigail looked surprised by this. “Cleopas never even mentioned this estate to me, though. I did not know of it until Jason brought it up.”
Arminius shrugged. “It is of no consequence. They mentioned you, which is all the authorities will care about. It should not take long for the rabble to be cleared out.”
Titus nodded, obviously satisfied. “We will both be at your disposal throughout the process, of course. We will do whatever is necessary to ensure that Jason’s son receives the benefit he is due.”
“Thank you.” Arminius inclined his head and darted a gaze from Abigail to Titus. “If I may say, my lord Asinius, I am grateful to you on my masters’ behalf for seeing my new mistress to Rome. A beauty as great as hers would find danger without a guardian.”
Abigail felt herself blush. Titus only grinned at her. “My friend, a beauty as great as hers manages to find danger even with a guardian. But I swore to Jason she would be taken care of, and I will keep my vow.”
Arminius nodded, halting them before the exit to a stately portico. “I could tell from his correspondence that he cared for you very much, Mistress.”
Hearing the man several times her age continually referring to her by that title made the uncertainty creep up Abigail’s spine, but she just straightened it in response. “I miss him greatly. And his father. Our lives altered too quickly that night; I fear I will not know how much it sent me reeling until I finally come to a halt.”
Arminius nodded again, then lifted a hand to indicate the scene before him. “The vineyards will have a good year. There will be more than enough to store for the household and to sell. A fine vintage, surely, that will fetch a dear price. Our wines are known throughout Rome for their sweetness and strength.”
Abigail looked out, noticing that there were many men bent over the vines, pruning, she supposed, though she knew nothing about the process. “How many do you have working in the fields?”
“There are twenty in the vineyards themselves. Three that specialize in running the winery. Fifteen more working with the vegetables, plus the shepherds and cowherds, the stablehands, and those serving as lesser stewards under me. Our total number is seventy; only a few are designated for the villa, though, so if ever you wish to stay here, Mistress, we will need to swell that number. You would not be safe here, I fear, without a larger staff. There are no women other than the workers’ families to see to you, and hence too many men to trust.” Arminius looked abashed at having to admit that.
Abigail smiled at his honesty. “I thank you for that wisdom, Arminius. If ever I intend to stay here, I will be certain to heed your advice. It is not a present worry, though. I must return to Israel soon to attend my mother, Ester. When I left, she was not well. The deaths of Cleopas and Jason were too much for her.”
“I am sorry to hear that. Please, give her my wishes of health.”
From there they continued the tour, but it was not until they had traveled all through the villa and were back where they started that Arminius cleared his throat. Abigail could tell by his posture that he was about to put forward something important–whether it be a test of her or a simple desire for information she knew not. “Mistress, my masters had both begun writing to me of a teacher whose lessons they rallied to, a man who was called Jesus, and whom they claimed was a Christ come to save the world, Jew and Gentile alike. Do you know of him?”
Abigail smiled, her eyes wandering to Titus, whose gaze encouraged her to share honestly all she knew. “Yes. I heard the stories my husband and father told, though I never heard the rabbi teach myself. But I have since learned many of his teachings. You see, the day they were to crucify Jason and Cleopas’s murderer, they executed in his place this teacher. I had gone to see vengeance done, and instead I was witness to the death of a blameless man.” Her eyes slid shut, and she tilted her face upward. “I will never be the same. I saw the agony on his face as he died, and it was the agony of the world, that he took on his shoulders to lighten our burden. A stray drop of his blood landed on my flesh, and I felt my soul washed clean of its sins.”