Shades of Surrender by Lynne Gentry

Author:Lynne Gentry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Howard Books

7

RUTH POURED THE BASIN of dirty water from the apartment window. Her back ached from three days of hard work bringing order to the small home of Metras, and her eyes were heavy from the sleepless nights of keeping vigil by the old man’s bed.

She wiped the basin with a fresh towel. “This place was filthy.”

“Hasn’t had a good cleaning since my wife left me.” Metras surveyed her work from his propped-up position on the bed. “Don’t think a clean floor makes us even, though.”

“You saved my mother. I owe a debt I can never repay.”

A rap at the door gave Ruth such a start she almost dropped the pottery. Had the soldiers found her? She put a finger to her lips to warn her mother to stay still—which was wasted effort, since the fire had not thawed her mother’s frozen voice.

Metras nodded his head toward the door. “Aren’t you going to answer it, girl?”

Ruth set the basin on the small table and reluctantly went to the door. She slid the latch and slowly peeked outside. No shiny armor. No drawn swords. No one. She opened the door all the way. At her feet she found a basket of bread and cheese, a crock of wine, and a fresh tunic that looked to be her size exactly.

“Well?” Metras asked.

She quickly snatched the supplies and closed the door. “Someone brought us dinner.”

“Who would do that?”

Her first inclination was to think Caecilianus; then she remembered the look on his face when she’d refused him and knew better. “Maybe someone from the church.”

“You mean one of those Christians?” Metras’s leathered face creased up worse than a rocky crag of limestone. “Why would they bring us food?”

Back in the day when her family had extra, she’d proudly packed baskets and left them on doorsteps to surprise people in need. Never could she have imagined she would eventually be the one on the receiving end. “To help.”

Over the next few days, there were several knocks at the door. Ruth’s heart skittered between hoping it was Caecilianus and praying it was not soldiers. As more gifts appeared, her curiosity got the better of her, and she forgot all about her fear and rushed to catch the delivery person at the slightest sound. But there was never any sign of who had gifted them with salted mullets, a jar of garum sauce, a round of goat cheese, and a basket bulging with fresh bread and soft blond dates. Who could have known of her need for clean bandages and an extra pot of the ointment the healer had prescribed on the exact day she was to switch Metras’s treatment from the honey mixture to the pig fat concoction?

“Metras.” Ruth unwound the bandage on his left arm, careful not to yank it from the fresh pink skin. “What can you tell me about the day of the fire?”

“Not much.” He cringed like she’d tugged too hard. “Smoke was already pouring from the window when I came to collect my rent money.

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