The Watchmen by Richard Denham & MJ Trow

Author:Richard Denham & MJ Trow [Denham, Richard & Trow, MJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thistle Publishing
Published: 2014-12-16T05:00:00+00:00

Augusta Treverorum

The slave girl had been in the lady Conchessa’s household now for five months. Adelina had taken the child under her wing because Adelina was like that; everybody’s mother. The girl was a good cook and she could press and fold clothes like no other. No task was too big or too small for her and she was eager to please. And never more eager than when the tribune Vitalis came calling. He had his own quarters at the Emperor’s back-gate with the Schola Palatina, but he visited Conchessa when he could and the girl noticed they talked in riddles, about a man called Calpurnius. A man who had vanished into thin air. It was a name she had heard before.

The early summer sun was streaming in through the open door and Vitalis sat in his chair, letting the girl unlace his boots and sink his tired feet into the hot water. All morning he had been drilling the Schola. March and counter-march. Left wheel. Right wheel. Battle order. He hadn't done this for so long, he was surprised how quickly it all came back to him. He was also surprised at how out of condition he was and this girl’s hands caressing his soles were pure Heaven.

He hadn't really noticed her before, although she’d usually been there when he called. Conchessa liked her and was impressed by her work, though whether she would ever merit the solidi she had paid for her was open to question.

‘You’re called Rebekah, aren’t you?’ he asked her, watching the sun glinting off her black hair.

‘Yes, sir,’ she said, not looking him in the face.

‘Do you like it here, Rebekah?’

‘Oh, yes, sir,’ the girl smiled, her dark eyes bright, her smile broad. Now she did look him in the face, this handsome soldier, with his armour and his tribune’s scarf. She felt her heart thump and she looked away. ‘Everybody’s very kind,’ she murmured.

‘Tell me about yourself,’ Vitalis said, leaning back as she dried his feet with clean linen.

‘There’s nothing to tell, sir,’ she assured him. ‘I am a slave. And a Jew.’

‘And I am a soldier and a Christian,’ he said. ‘But my Lord Jesus Christ was a Jew. You and he are of the same people.’

‘I know nothing about that, sir,’ she said.

‘Where are you from?’ he asked.

‘My people are from the holy land, sir. From Judea. But …’

‘Yes?’

Rebekah looked suddenly afraid. She gnawed her lip and picked up the bowl, as though to go. Vitalis stopped her. ‘But?’ He held her arm fast.

‘There are Jews here, in the city. I see them sometimes. We pray together.’

‘You do?’ Vitalis smiled. ‘When you speak to God, what do you call him?’

‘Yahweh, sir. The all-seeing. But if I understand it right, your God and mine are the same. It is just in the matter of the messiah we are at odds. And when you speak to Yahweh, what do you call him?’

Vitalis smiled to see the little slave so animated when it came to her religion.

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