Within two minutes, he was asleep, and Abigail refused to let him be moved. Jason, smiling indulgently, simply shook his head and smiled at Dinah.
“It seems,” he said to the elder woman, who was beholding the scene with sparkling eyes, “that we will soon have two children, Dinah.”
“It seems you will.” She suddenly shifted back into her stern expression and glared at Abigail. “But he will be no cause for excuses. Eat.”
Abigail chuckled softly and picked up some bread.
*
Jason left for his night shift with a shake of his head, a fond smile on his lips. As he walked, he reflected on the differences between his family and his friends. He had left Menelaus and Titus and Apidius by the time he happened across Samuel, but he had a feeling his friends would mock him for the purchase of the boy. They would look at his beautiful face and tease him as a lover of boys, or else would deride him for having too soft a heart and wasting money on one who was useless. His family, on the other hand, lauded his quick judgement and acted as though he had just bestowed a gift on them all.
And Abigail–Abigail had become the sole being in Samuel’s eyes already. He never looked away from her and was perfectly content to rest at her side all evening. He may have called her “Mistress,” but Jason knew well she would be his mother. And hopefully the excitement of the evening had worn her out enough that she would rest well tonight. Too often for his peace of mind, she tossed restlessly until dawn. It did not seem healthy.
He entered the garrison and greeted a few acquaintances, then began his rounds along the wall. As usual, the city was quiet as he gazed out across it, and the activity outside the walls was at a minimum. They had to be careful these days, with the threat of rebellion so strong, but still his night watches were usually peaceful and uneventful.
This night, however, it was not to be. It was not an external disturbance that called him from his position, though, but rather a familiar face.
“I am to relieve you,” the centurion said wearily. “The general wishes to speak with you.”
Curious, Jason nodded and wasted no time in going to his superior. He found the general pacing the confines of the room, hands clasped behind his back. Jason had never seen the man look old before, but at that moment his face was haggard.
“Jason.” He stopped, his eyes bright with–what? It was not just anxiety, but it was not fear. Guilt? “I need to speak to your wife.”
Jason stood agape. “Abigail? When?”
“Now!” the general shouted, then drew in a calming breath. “It is imperative, Jason, or I would not ask you to wake her. It is Elizabeth, her friend, Julia’s slave.”
His lover, Jason thought but did not say. He merely nodded. “I will bring Abigail at once.”
It did not take him long to reach the house, and he entered quietly so as not to wake everyone else. He slipped into their chamber, where Abigail slept soundly. Sitting on the bed beside her, he gently shook her shoulder until he could see in the moon’s rays that her eyes opened.
“Abigail, you must come with me to the general. It is about Elizabeth.”
He needed to say no more. Abigail pushed herself up, using him as leverage, and hurriedly dressed. She surely had a million questions sprinting through her mind, but she asked none of them. Jason was glad, since he had no answers. He grasped her hand and led her silently from the house and across the compound to his superior.
The general was once again pacing, and he once again stopped when his solitude was interrupted. He motioned without words to the chairs sitting before his table, and Jason helped Abigail into one, then stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.
“What is wrong, General?” Abigail asked after a moment of silence.
“Elizabeth.” The general sat across from her. “She went out this afternoon at Julia’s request; we have just discovered that my wife is with child, and she has not been well. She wished some food, or–” He visibly stiffened, became the stern commander. “Once before Elizabeth was carried back from the markets so ill she could not stand. You attended her. This time, Elizabeth was carried back dead. I want to know why.”
Abigail pressed a hand to her mouth. Jason felt the tension coil into her shoulders, would have sworn he heard the scream that sounded only in her mind. What must she be feeling? Her only friend . . . but his Abigail did not crumble. She threw up her chin and seethed instead.
“I shall tell you why. She is dead because you took her to your bed. Because she had to hide it to keep from being stoned at the command of your wife. She was pregnant, General, and poisoned herself to be rid of it. The first time, she was fortunate; she survived. This time, she was obviously not so lucky.”
Once again, his commander looked old. “She never told me.”