Abigail did not smile, but her face relaxed. It was more than she could imagine right now, growing up beside this woman. So many changes . . . only two days ago her mother had been alive, eager to tell Silas the news of their new child; now Abigail was an orphaned slave who had not even seen her mother into the tomb. How could she possibly see far enough into the future to visualize herself as a woman? How could she survive the night, alone in that unfamiliar chamber that moments ago she had thought wonderful? How could she even now keep the tears at bay?
“I understand that your loss is far greater than mine, Abigail.” Ester tilted her head up with a gentle finger. “I may be parting with my son, but he will return. You do not have that hope. And while nothing can replace a mother, I will do all I can to comfort you. We shall help each other through these times.” She smiled. “Take the rest of the day to rest. Our house will be busy with Jason’s departure, but there is no reason for you to get involved. Tomorrow I will have Simon knock to be sure you are awake with the others, and he will instruct you in the daily preparations.”
Abigail nodded and took a step back as Ester rose from her seat. “I will see you in the morning,” the elder said in farewell, leaving the room with grace that Abigail knew she could never muster.
She made her way back to her room but did not immediately close the door, as there were no windows to provide light. A lamp sat on the floor, but she had no desire for illumination. So she took a moment to look again at the space, her eyes finding first the other portal directly across from her. She fully intended to open it soon, just so she would know exactly where it let her out. But not yet. First she would take a nap; sleep had been impossible the night before. She took another second to notice the crudely fashioned chest, small but sturdy, in the corner, the only other object in the room. Then she closed the door and let herself drop down on the pallet, settling down with her eyes closed tightly against reality.
“Father Jehovah,” she prayed almost silently, “I know you are with me still. And since you will never forsake me, I ask only that you have mercy on your servant. I realize I will never be a man nor even free, but what I am is your doing.” Sensing that if she said any more it would be more accusation than worship, she ended quickly and determined to fall asleep.
Chapter Two
Andrew took his master’s sword as Cleopas reached for a water skin. The men emptied from the training field, headed for their midday meal. Andrew relaxed his stance for the first time that day and cast his gaze toward the Visibullis house. From this distance, he could barely make out the figures on the rooftop. Ester would be the one pacing, Abigail the small dot sitting down.
Cleopas looked that way too, and his lips curved up. “Ester says their lessons are going well.”
Andrew barely contained a laugh. “Abigail says it is useless to teach a slave girl as if she were son of the high priest.”
His master’s brows arched, amusement in the quirk. “Our Abigail said that? To you?”
“To Dinah.” He shook his head and looked toward the females again. In the year she had been with them, Abigail had yet to share so big a piece of her mind with anyone but Dinah. Strange as it seemed, he would have sworn it was pride that kept her so humble with the rest of them.
“Well, she shall have to get used to it, my wife will settle for nothing less than a daughter to instruct.” Mischief combined with merriment in Cleopas’s eyes. “Perhaps I shall take a role in her schooling as well. If she is learning Greek and Hebrew so well, she ought to learn Latin, ought she not?”
Andrew shifted uncomfortably. It was no great secret that his command of his master’s language was minimal, in spite of the lessons Cleopas had given him. “Certainly she would benefit from your tutelage, Lord.”
“You will sit in on them too, Andrew. More structured, regular lessons will help you as well.”
Andrew swallowed back the desire to groan and focused on his gratefulness for a master who took such interest in them. “I am honored by your attention, Lord.”
Cleopas chuckled, proving he was not fooled. A commotion behind them stopped any response he may have made, however.
A glance that direction had Andrew stepping back into his place behind his master, reaching for his waterskin as subtly as possible. The unmistakable plume of the general towered over the milling soldiers, headed their way. Andrew focused on invisibility while Cleopas straightened to his full height and snapped to attention. “Good day, General.”
“Cleopas.” The general stopped beside them with a slight smile. “Your men are in good form. At this rate, we shall inspire Caesar to expansion once again.”
Cleopas chuckled and relaxed his shoulders a bit. “Not unless Augustus’s will has changed overnight. Tiberius would never disobey it.”
The general grunted and shifted from one foot to another. “I trust you have heard that my wife has joined me here.”
“Of course. Is she settling in well?”