Page 4 of Unveiled Tamar’s Story (Mysteries & Wonders of the Bible #1)

He spun, gaze finding Gaius easily as the old man ran through the dwindling crowd.

Trusting that his men would carry out his orders, Valerius strode toward the servant who had been with his family all his life, who was more father than servant.

Who would be dead now, if not for Jesus’s gracious word of healing. “Gaius.”

Gaius had seemed younger since his healing too. He ran forward with the vitality of youth, not limping slowly as he’d done two years ago. His face still revealed his age, but it was uncreased with pain or panic, which allowed Valerius to relax the knot of his shoulders.

Gaius smiled. “We knew you would be worried. Mistress bade me run to assure you that we are well. The only loss in the earthquake was that old vase you always hated anyway.”

Valerius breathed a relieved laugh. “No loss at all, then—and thank you. I was indeed anxious.”

“Of course.” Then Gaius’s face darkened as he looked beyond Valerius, toward the central cross even now being lowered.

The weeping from the women at Jesus’s feet grew louder as one of them begged to be allowed to hold her son.

“It is true, then. I hoped, when the gossip reached us midday, that they were mistaken.”

“If only they had been.” Valerius’s voice sounded heavy to his ears, as heavy as it felt in his throat. Never before had he followed a teacher who met such a fate, but he was now one of thousands of people who would have to face the most horrible of questions.

What was one to do when one’s leader was executed? Try to keep His teachings alive after Him? Or admit that His enemies had won and slink back into whatever else life had to offer? Forget all Jesus had taught?

But Valerius couldn’t forget. How could he, when Gaius stood beside him, healed and whole?

Regret twisted his stomach. He hadn’t even met Jesus face-to-face to request the healing—he’d been too ashamed, too afraid that the great Rabbi would refuse to see him because he was Roman.

In that moment, when he’d considered striking out to intercept Him, it hadn’t mattered that he’d made friends with as many of the Jews as he could, that he’d funded the building of a synagogue, that he’d learned as much as possible about the Lord God.

He’d been certain of his own unworthiness. Absolutely certain that Jesus would refuse him if he dared to ask for something as unheard of as His presence in a Roman household.

Gaius’s face twisted in pain. “It should have been me.”

“Pardon?” Frowning, Valerius followed his friend’s gaze to the limp figure now being held by one of the women.

“ I should have died. I have lived my life, I am an old man. A sinner. So many things I have done that I regret! Yet the Lord spared me, through one word from Jesus. How, then… how ? How is He the one who has died, while I still walk the earth? It is not fair. It is not right. He has never done anything wrong.”

Valerius sighed and reached out to clap a hand on Gaius’s shoulder. He hoped it conveyed encouragement, though if it did, it was only by the grace of God. Heaven knew he had nothing to offer. “I know exactly how you feel. And yet here we are, left to sort out what it all means.”

“Sir?” one of his men called to him, arm lifted in a bid for his attention.

Valerius nodded his acknowledgment, squeezed Gaius’s shoulder, and then let go. “You had better get home. Please assure Mariana that I am well and that I will be home as soon as I can get away.”

Gaius’s mouth curved in a small, sad smile. “You know very well what the mistress will say to that, Master.”

Despite it all, a chuckle warmed his throat.

He’d been wary, he could admit it, when his family arranged the marriage to a woman so much younger than he, a woman who, upon first glance at her lovely face, seemed ill-suited to be the wife of a centurion.

But he had relented, because it was what one did.

It had taken mere weeks for him to realize how wrong his first impression of Mariana had been.

She was in fact the perfect centurion’s wife.

Far from resenting the time his duties demanded, she was the first to encourage him to be the best, most attentive officer he could be.

To care for his men, for his tasks, for his superiors.

Yet he couldn’t suspect her of simply wanting him out of the house and her company, because she always welcomed him home with the warmest of affection and excitement.

In those few weeks, his wariness had melted into a love he’d never expected to feel. Now, eight years into their marriage, he indeed did know what his beloved wife would say—to any duty, but especially this one, that involved the care of the Teacher in whom they’d both put their trust.

“She will say that I should stay as long as I am needed to ensure the Teacher is given every respect, even now. Especially now.”

Gaius nodded. “Livia will not be as quite as understanding, of course.”

This time his chuckle was brighter, as the image of his small, demanding daughter filled his mind’s eye. Demanding, but only of their presence. That was all she ever wanted—the people she loved best to surround her. “True.”

Gaius stepped away. “I will assure them you are well too. And confirm the sad truth about the Teacher. If you need anything else, Master—”

“I will not hesitate to send someone with a message. Thank you, Gaius.” As his old friend hurried away, back to the Roman quarter, Valerius strode toward the men patiently awaiting his instruction.

The strange darkness had faded into a dull gray light, yes, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was still there.

Surrounding them. Consuming them. A thick, suffocating darkness that snuffed out all the light.

It closed in again when Gaius left, seeming to settle on Valerius’s shoulders and wrap its fingers around his throat.

His gaze tracked to the man in whom he’d put so much hope.

The Son of God. Dead .

Where did that leave the rest of them?