Titus slipped the ring off his friend’s hand as Jason’s eyes closed again. He watched as he coughed, gurgled, a stream of blood leaking out of the corner of his mouth. He watched as the one true friend he had ever hand, the one man never to be put off by his moods, struggled for another breath. He watched as the chest stopped heaving, as the soul fled the body on its way to wherever it went, leaving nothing but a corpse behind it.
Titus stood. His men were returning, the murderer in hand. The man was unconscious, but alive. “Marcus, Dominus, bring the bodies of the Visibullises. The city is ours again, and we are returning to the Praetorium.”
No one argued. No one ever argued with him. They merely fell in behind him obediently as he stormed off in search of the general.
He found him, but the news he delivered seemed to go unbelieved.
The general blinked, as if expecting him to change his story. “Both of them? How can it be that two of the three men that are dead are the Visibullises? Losing one of them would be bad enough–to lose both in one night?”
Titus nodded toward the two lifeless figures his men lowered to the ground. “It was Barabbas. We caught him moments after he took Jason’s life. He had rushed to the defense of his father.”
The general sighed and raked a hand over his hair. “This will not be an enjoyable task, but I must go inform the women.”
“I am coming with you.” Titus stepped forward, his fist still closed around the ring. “I spoke with Jason before he died, and he made me swear to give them his messages, and that they would be taken care of.”
“Of course they will.” The general’s voice sounded absent. “The house will remain theirs; they have enough wealth amassed to pay their taxes. And if Abigail has a son, it will be made all the easier.”
Titus only nodded silently and started walking. The general fell in beside him. After a moment of silence, the elder said, “You did well in apprehending Barabbas, Titus. You and your men will receive commendation.”
“I will see him crucified for this. Allow me to be there when he is executed, Lord.”
“Of course. But you are leaving in a few weeks–”
“I would stay another six months in this infested pit if it was to see that barbarian meet justice.” Emotions crowded his mind, but he pushed them away. He was granite. He was ice. “He will pay for what he has done this night.”
“Indeed.”
They arrived at the Visibullis house and approached the front entrance, pounded on the door. A voice called out from within asking who it was.
“The general and Titus Asinius,” Titus answered.
He heard the bar being removed, and a moment later the heavy door opened. Cleopas’s man stood before them then, his face unyielding, as though already knowing what news they brought and refusing it. He stepped aside to let them in.
The commotion had brought the others out into the vestibule, and Titus looked around uncomfortably at the collection of Hebrews that remained of the Visibullises. The general cleared his throat and turned to Ester.
“Which one?” Her lips already trembled, her eyes already filled.
He reached out and took her hand. “Both of them, Ester.” Before he could say more, she fell against him sobbing.
When Titus glanced at Abigail, however, he found her frozen. Her eyes turned toward him. “No. It cannot be.”
He stepped toward her, wondering if she would crumble as her mother had and what he would do if she did. “I am sorry, Abigail. Cleopas was struck down, and Jason rushed to his rescue. He would have killed the man, but a stone crumbled in his path, and he fell. I was not near enough to save him, but I spoke to him. He said to tell you both that he loved you, that Cleopas did not suffer, and that–” he found he had to swallow before he could go on. The intense gaze from her unblinking eyes was unnerving. “He said to tell you he was sorry he would not meet your babe. That you were the sun, moon, and stars to him. And to give this,” he said, holding out the ring, “to a boy. That he is his son, and he would have adopted him. I know not what that means.”
“I do.” Calmly, she crouched down. It was only then that Titus spotted the child behind her. Too beautiful to be innocent, surely . . . what was he doing in Jason’s home? “Samuel,” he heard her say to the child as she handed him the gold, “this is for you, from Jason. He wishes you to have it, because he loves you and wishes you to be his son.”