Child of the King by Diaz Debra

Author:Diaz, Debra [Diaz, Debra]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-09-03T23:00:00+00:00

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The closer they drew to the end of the Egnatian Way, the stronger grew a crisp, cold wind blowing off of the Black Sea. They crossed the strait between Byzantium and Chalcedon on a ferry and began the new leg of their pilgrimage. The roads were not as well-kept, and often Metellus struck out on lesser known paths and avoided the large cities. The land consisted of heavily forested mountains and barren plains, and during the fortnight of their journey, they slept mostly in tents alongside the numerous lakes and rivers. A few times they came to settlements where, unexpectedly, they found Christian families who were only too glad to share their homes with them. They all spoke of Paul, the great preacher who had come to spread the news about Jesus throughout the region.

Metellus had purchased plenty of food and other supplies at Byzantium, so there was no need to seek out the cities. Sometimes he hunted with his bow and arrows for fresh game, though Rachel did not accompany him…she had never been able to kill small animals for food

She enjoyed seeing the countryside, though it was rough and difficult at times. On one memorable afternoon they stopped to rest beside a pool lying between two great hills, and because Rachel was tired, Metellus set up the tents so they could spend the night there. Then he went swimming, and Rachel sat on the sun-warmed rocks until she could stand it no longer. She slipped into the pool, catching her breath as the frigid water bit through her clothes and touched her skin.

“It’s deep,” he called out to her, but she swam toward him, and by the evening she was almost as expert a swimmer as he, and he taught her how to dive and to swim underwater. It was a most enjoyable day, though by the time the sun had lowered she was shivering with cold. Metellus built a fire and, after catching some fish with a small net, cooked them over the flames. Rachel huddled close to the fire as her clothes slowly dried.

The moon had risen when they finished eating. Metellus came out of the nearby woods with more branches for the fire, and they sat on opposite sides, watching it.

“Tribune,” she said hesitantly, “this has been a—a journey that I will always remember. I have you to thank for that.”

“You have your father to thank for it. And Caesar. And let’s not forget the Vestal Virgins.”

“Oh, let’s do forget them, by all means!”

He looked at her, with the flames reflecting in his eyes. “I hope you’ve decided you didn’t really take an oath to remain a virgin for thirty years. Not that I would take advantage of your decision, of course.”

She had to smile, because his own was irresistible. “I truly cannot remember, but you persuaded me that if I did, I was a child and it was forced on me. I don’t think God will hold me to it. I mean—” Confused, she glanced away from him.

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