In the courtyard of his palace, Valerius was supervising servants who were hefting bags and parcels onto wagons, preparing for their caravan across the desert, when he saw Samara rushing through the gates. She had three children in tow.
Before she could speak, he said, “Samara, I must tell you: we’ve just been given a new reason to get out of Judea. But who are these children?”
“What’s the new reason?” she asked, looking alarmed.
“My brother’s going to be Emperor sooner than he thought. He tells me to prepare to come to him.”
“So that means your uncle Emperor Antoninus is dying.”
“It would seem so,” he said gruffly.
She felt the heartbreak in his voice. “Valerius, I’m so sorry that you’re losing Antoninus. I know you love him. But what are you going to do?”
“I know I’m not going to Rome.”
“We’re still leaving for Africa, then? You’ll miss your brother’s coronation?”
“When my brother takes the throne, he won’t need me there to have gold laurels placed on his head by a pompous priest.”
“You’re so scornful.”
“Not of Marcus. Of the empty glory surrounding the imperial office.”
“Empty glory.” She wanted to say That’s a perfect description of Rome. Yet she couldn’t risk sounding too anti-Roman to him now. If he asked around very much, he might find out about her having paid for the various harassments of Rome’s operations in Jerusalem. She had to get him out of town with her before he learned of what she’d been doing.
She swept her arm in a gesture indicating the three children behind her. “Valerius, behold what your Empire has left behind in Jerusalem.”
Critically, he looked the small trio over. “These children are so thin. What do they have to do with us?”
“Meet Roxane. Her little brother and sister have given themselves Roman names. This is Cornelia, and this –” she pointed to the smallest one – “is Marcus Aurelius.”
Valerius peered at the tiny boy, who squirmed under his scrutiny. “A miniature Marcus?”
“Your brother should be honored that this boy bears his name. He is the son of an anonymous Roman legionary.”
“Son of a legionary, you say. Now I understand you. These are Mithra children from the streets, aren’t they? What are they doing with you?”
“I found them in my storeroom some weeks ago, trying to make off with some goods.”
“Are they the ones who stole your metalwork?”
“No. These are petty thieves. That robbery involved breaking and entering, a larger operation than these children are capable of. They require rescuing, like us. Like us, they can no longer survive in Jerusalem, or for that matter, anywhere in the Empire. Three of their siblings are already dead.”
“So they’re misfits. Like us,” Valerius mused.
“Flotsam,” said Samara. “Our very cousins. I took them off the streets and gave them a place to live and a job of work to do. They’ve surprised me by not running away nor stealing anything more.”
“Samara: no.”
“No, what?”
“No, we’re not taking children along. It’s a rugged trip we’re embarking on.”
“Listen, Valerius,” she said, drawing near, and he became nervous. She was fixing him with that intense gaze that could always shake him loose from whatever rigidity he may be clinging to.
“To my clan, they’re foreigners: Romans. I have no one to leave them with here. We have to take them with us. You have no idea how sturdy these children are. They’ve endured the greatest hardships practically every day of their lives.”
“Still, Samara, they could slow us down. And you’re hardly responsible for what happens to them.”
“These three are my very own now,” she retorted, eyes blazing. “I’ve made them part of my family. Therefore they belong to you, too. Besides, were it not for your imperial occupation of my sacred land, they’d never even have been born. You are duty bound to help me continue to protect them!”
Seeing Samara’s determined jaw, he was unsettled. She meant business. Looking at these ragged, skittish children, these little thieves who couldn’t tell right from wrong, he was flooded with memories of his own childhood. He saw his brother’s small face, and his grandfather’s forested estate. There, they had children’s chariots drawn by ponies. They had tiny scale models of the Coliseum and the Temple of Venus. They had their own little garden house surrounded by fruit trees. They had servants and tutors of all sorts, all supervised by the dominating Rusticus, a loving caretaker and severe taskmaster.
How different from the hardscrabble lives of these waifs, who’d never had anyone to teach them anything. They certainly never had a Rusticus, a man who used words like iron hammers to beat the Stoic doctrine into the young brothers: that duty was everything.
“I understand your feelings,” Valerius said to the truculent Samara, “and I know my duty when I see it. I’ll think about what to do with these children.”
Our provisions are limited, and our voyage may be a very risky one, he pondered. If I allow Samara to give aid and comfort to every troubled soul we come across, we’ll never achieve our goals.
“Rufus!” he commanded. “Take them to the kitchen and get them some food. Set them loose in the garden and let them play, but keep an eye on them. They’ve been known to steal.”
“Sir,” said Roxane, “may I speak?” At a nod from Valerius, the girl stepped forward. In the slight frown on her brow he noticed a determination, a strength. Had that quality been there before? Had he overlooked it?
“You may see me as a child, sir, yet the lady knows my toughness, so I hope you see it too. I’ve taken care of Cornelia and Marcus since they were babies, and we’ve never even had a place to live. Our mother left us all to follow her Roman soldier when I was seven. We can all take care of ourselves, and sir, we can even help you, sir. Just try us.”
“Valerius,” Samara said, “these children deserve a new start.”
He said sternly, “I shall consider it. Rufus, take them away now. Later you can give them some work to do in the kitchen.” He didn’t want to show her the sympathy and caring he felt for these children. He needed to show strong leadership if their mission were to succeed. If he didn’t, Samara and her soft-heartedness could be the end of their hopes.