In the garden room of the Palace of the Legate, Valerius and balding, round-faced Carolus sat on an ornate padded bench, whispering, their foreheads nearly touching. Valerius liked Carolus, the Vice-Legate. He was tough, but quick to smile. Carolus was a family friend and former Consul, just as well-born and well-connected as Valerius and Marcus. He could be relied on to keep the peace and build the prosperity of the province. Valerius had to get him ready to take command of the Province of Judea because Valerius was about to leave for an insane mission with a beautiful woman to an unknown land.
“So,” Carolus asked, “are you’re going to make sure that I have plenty of support?”
“Absolutely.”
“Including the support of Senator Gaius Metellus and your other high-up friends in Rome?”
“Yes, and the chief Hebrew merchants of Jerusalem have already been summoned to a meeting with you in three days. They’ll trust you, Carolus.”
It felt good to be saying this with confidence. He remembered how dumbfounded he’d once felt when faced with the Hebrew merchants of the city. He was never sure whether they were allied with the Hebrew terrorists.
However, once Samara explained to him that the merchants were opposed to terrorism because it was bad for business, he felt foolish. It was so obvious. What merchant would want the city where he made money to be shut down and filled with Roman troops?
“Don’t worry about the merchants, Carolus. I’ve met with them, and I’ve calmed their doubts. They understand that I’ve been managing to tone down the Roman exploitation of Jerusalem, and that we’re on their side.”
“What do they say about your affair with this Samara beth Isaac?”
“They don’t know about our relationship yet. They recognize her consummate skill, even if they resent her for being a woman that does their job better than they can. When they find out about our expedition, they’ll respect the fact that I’m on a trading mission to Africa with her, a mission that could be of great financial benefit to the Hebrews.”
“You think they’ll respect your absconding with her? She’s one of their women, after all. Don’t be too sure.”
“I know.” He laughed. “Yet believe it or not, she and I have a Platonic relationship.”
Carolus laughed again. “Platonic? With her such a beauty, and you so manly? Don’t count on anyone believing that.”
About Samara’s insistence that they sleep separately until marriage, Valerius felt proud and angry. Proud of his self-control, and angry that he had to exercise it.
He said, “Nonetheless, Carolus, they’ll respect you as acting Legate, and you won’t need to use force against the Hebrews.”
“What about that Zealot that broke into the Jupiter Temple?”
“A lone fanatic. I’ve neutralized him,” Valerius said; it was only partially a lie. That ‘isolated fanatic’ was no ‘him.’ She was his soulmate.
“One more thing,” he said. “Senator Tullius told me that if there’s a serious Hebrew insurrection, I should speak to his man here, the lawyer Aspergus.”
Carolus made a face. “Counselor Aspergus. Not someone I’d relish taking counsel from.”
“I’ll leave it up to you. I don’t know what Tullius is thinking regarding an uprising here, yet I know he has it in for me. He doesn’t have anything against you, Carolus, as far as I know.”
“Well, I’d feel better, Valerius, if you were going to be easier to reach.”
“I know. I’m sorry, but my fate is calling me.”
“Your fate, in the form of a beautiful woman.”
“You might say that. Carolus, listen. I’m leaving my best friend Flavius here with you. He knows the Hebrews better than anyone else in the Legions, though you may have to take his advice with a grain of salt. He sees Zealots where there’s nothing but the breeze ruffling bushes. But you’ll be surprised at what he can get done for you.”
Valerius left the garden room breathing a sigh of relief. It seemed pretty certain that Carolus would do a good job in his stead. Yet he wondered whether Marcus and Emperor Antoninus would allow him to put aside his responsibilities in Judea to take a trip outside the Empire with a Hebrew lady.
He decided that his wisest course would be to act first and ask permission later.
Valerius charged through the streets towards the Syrian inn, his bodyguards barely keeping up with him. Rufus had told him that rumors were shooting through the city about the Hebrew-loving Legate and his paramour. His relationship with Samara was becoming too hard to deny. He was pained by how difficult it was becoming for him to meet her. She had to creep out of her home in disguise, and he had to make up stories for his palace staff about going to meetings with merchants who should by any reasonable standard has been coming to him rather than him to them.
Reaching the inn, he left his guards at the front gate and rushed to the back room. Samara was waiting for him, pacing back and forth. Perspiration dotted her forehead.
At the sight of him, she burst out, “Here I am – your concubine! All of your Romans and all of my Hebrews are calling me that, Valerius.”
“I know,” he breathed. “I’m sorry for it. I’m making plans now, and we can leave Jerusalem soon. Then no one shall call you such again.”
Her face was flushed, her hair loosened and disheveled; he’d never seen her like this. “Plans?” she scoffed. “What good can your plans be? Your brother is going to send you to war, and you shall be killed, if not in this war, in the next. There’s no end to your wars. Rome is perpetually at war, because you keep expanding as if you own the world!”
He reached deep into his heart for words that might calm her down. “Rome is not expanding any more, Samara, it’s shrinking. Emperor Hadrian ended the Empire’s expansion. He had to do it because he ran out of Romans to run new provinces. Now Emperor Antoninus has his hands full with the Parthians to the east, and the Germans and the other barbarians to the north.”
“Call it what you will, Rome is always battling somebody,” she said scornfully, yet her anger seemed to dissipate.
She turned to him, her eyes burning into his. “Listen, Valerius. I’ve already begun to make my own plans. Zipporah and Baruch are helping me gather supplies. I’ve sent for my mules and horses and wagons and camels. I’m converting the silver shekels I stashed away into gold and jewels. Meet me again here tomorrow afternoon. It’s likely I’ll be ready to leave fairly soon.”
Valerius stared at her. It was as if he were seeing her for the first time.
He thought of one morning when he was eight and Marcus was seven. For a year they’d been learning to ride ponies and mules. That day Marcus amazed him by riding up to him on a huge snorting stallion.
Could it be that Samara was as capable and courageous as his brother?
“Samara, you’re an amazing woman. You do so many things that women don’t do.”
She laughed. “You hardly know what I am capable of.”
“As for myself,” he continued, “I’ve recruited Leander to come along with us on the voyage to translate, and I shall lay claim to some legionaries. Ones I know well. Brave ones who don’t have families.”
“Why with no families?”
“Because if they come with us, they may never see their loved ones again.”
Her face fell. “You make it sound like we’re going to battle.”
“It may be so, Samara,” he said firmly, and put an arm around her. “We have to be prepared for anything.”