Bread of Angels by Afshar Tessa

Author:Afshar, Tessa [Afshar, Tessa]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: FICTION / Romance / Historical / Ancient World, FICTION / Christian / Historical
ISBN: 9781496406491
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2017-06-06T04:00:00+00:00

“My mother is dying.” The general slumped against his chair, his sagging cheeks glistening with tears.

“I have faced men wielding spears taller than I am. Faced soldiers coming at me with death in their war cries. Faced defeat in battle when all seemed lost. But never have I felt so bereft of hope as at this moment. I always knew she would die, even though she seemed immortal. Still, I cannot imagine my life without her. She is a vexing woman. A stubborn pain of a woman. And the greatest joy I ever had.”

“Oh, General! This world will be a darker place without the spark that lights Mistress Aemilia’s eyes.” Lydia, who had been summoned to the general’s villa in the middle of the night, sank on the stool facing him.

His jowls shook as he wept, whimpering like a boy instead of a seasoned soldier of middle years. “Half the people in this city think her demented. The other half judge her too old to mourn. They are mistaken. When she is gone, it will be as you said. My light will dim.”

Lydia reached for his hand. “When my father died, I thought I could not go on. He was my home.”

“How did you carry on?”

“At first, for his sake only, I went through the motions of living. I could not bear the thought of his disappointment if I gave up. So I put one foot in front of the other. In time life began to taste good again. Not one day passes that I do not miss him. But I live, and I take pleasure in the life I have.”

The general wiped his face and took a deep breath. “She has asked for you.”

“She probably wishes to remind me that I owe her another piece of purple cloth at half price and that she will not allow death to cheat her of her rights.”

The general laughed as she had hoped he would. He brought her to Aemilia’s bedside, where she knelt to say farewell.

Aemilia, breaths labored, cracked her eyes open. “You took your time.”

Lydia, who still had a stitch in her side from running all the way to the villa, bowed her head. “I beg your pardon.”

“Listen, both of you. Lydia, I want Manius to adopt you.”

“What?” the general and Lydia cried at the same time, their voices cracking on the same note.

“Dear Mother! You must know how impossible this request is.”

She waved a weak hand in the air. “Manius already has an heir. The son of his father’s brother. I wish the boy no harm, though he is a bore. For Lydia, I only ask this, Manius. Adopt her so she can become a citizen of Rome.” The labored breathing grew worse, and she became silent and gray. They waited.

Finding strength from some deep, unconquered cistern, Aemilia went on. “How can she achieve true success while paying exorbitant taxes to Rome? Adopt her, for my sake, my son. Leave her no money or property. She will not need it.

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