Menelaus decided to ignore the ice in her voice. “We heard she was ill. Is there anything we can do? We could send over the Roman physician–”
Abigail raised a hand to halt his offer. “The general already offered, and the physician has come and gone. There is nothing he can do; he says the illness comes from her desire for it and will not leave until she wills it. We have sent for Cleopas’s cousin, who is also a physician, in the hopes that a familiar face will stir her. He should be here in a week.”
Menelaus could only nod. Titus unfolded his arms, his face still expressionless, impassable. “I hope she recovers. Have you heard the news of Barabbas?”
Abigail shook her head, eyes going sharp. “The general will not speak of such things to Julia, and she is the only one who has come recently.”
Titus looked proud when he said, “He will be crucified. The last day of next week, during your Passover. The general thought it–appropriate.”
“And Titus gets to stand and watch him die from beneath the cross.” All kinds of envy sprang up in Menelaus at the reminder. “As his last official duty before heading back to Rome. He receives all the blessings.”
He expected her to pale at the mention of such a thirst for blood, but she did not. She simply nodded and said, “May your return to Rome be safe, Titus. Menelaus, you will of course always be welcome here. Jason always named you as his closest friend.”
Menelaus darted a glance at Titus to see if the words, obviously meant to prick him, had any effect. There was none to be seen, of course, but he still wondered if she simply held a grudge against his friend for being the bearer of the evil news. If not, she should have disliked him just as much; he had been as much her enemy as Titus.
Abigail was apparently thinking the same thing, for she continued, “Which is why it grieved him so much, at the end, that you withdrew from him to the extent that you did.” She drew herself up. “If there is nothing else, I should return to my mother. Thank you for coming.”
He stood, not really wanting to stay, but offended nonetheless at the dismissal.
Titus must have agreed. With his most Stoic mask in place, he rose to his feet. “Abigail. Why did Jason buy the boy?”
Abigail stopped in her retreat from the room, spun, and speared him with her gaze. “Because Samuel needed a home, and Jason was a good man. Why would you buy a boy?”
Titus did not so much as look down at the child who still stood protected in the folds of Abigail’s garment. “I would not.”
“No.” Abigail searched his face as though for a hidden wellspring that she found not there, or dry. She sounded vaguely disappointed when she said, “You would not. Good day, Titus. Menelaus.”
This time, they let her go. Menelaus moved closer to his friend. “He is a beautiful child. He looks like a catamite.”
Titus snorted. “I suspect that was Abigail’s point in mentioning that Jason was a good man. I would wager that our friend bought the child to keep him from such a fate.” He shook his head. “His heart had become soft.”
“I know.” Menelaus sighed. “He became a better man than I can ever hope to be.”
Titus glared at him for a moment, then just rolled his eyes and strode toward the door.
Chapter Twenty-Four
They had never gotten to finish their conversation. It was her fault, and it ate at her. He had looked so sincere as he spoke of the man he called Christ, so genuine in his desire that she listen. And Ester had ignored him. The topic made her uneasy, and she had stated that she was tired. He was always such a gentle man. He had looked at her, knowing she lied, but he had not forced the issue. He knew it would do no good, that the more he pushed, the farther she would flee from his words.
She had thought, as she lay in bed beside him that night, falling into the realm of slumber, that someday she would have to listen. To keep putting him off when he brought up the teacher would eventually anger him. So the next time, she would at least hear him out.
Now there was no next time at all. How cruel was God to snatch her husband away when there remained something unfinished between them? And to take as well her son, the only other one who had heard Cleopas’s words and would be able to explain them to her? She did not want to live without Cleopas. She could not live, knowing in his last moments he was disappointed in her. Jehovah was supposed to be merciful as well as just–where was his mercy when he stripped a woman of both husband and son in one fell blow, leaving her alone, forsaken, and unforgiven?