An Echo in the Darkness by Francine Rivers
“That’s a possibility too painful to think about,” Alexander said grimly. He glanced across the room and saw Rapha leaning down over the woman, something clutched in her hand as she spoke softly to the woman in the bed.
Iulius saw as well and returned to the bedside. He looked at Hadassah uneasily. “That’s very important to her.”
“I hope so,” she said quietly. She raised her head, looking through the blue veils at Alexander and Iulius. “What gods does she have in her lararium?” Iulius tensed at her question, and he said nothing. “You can tell me the truth without fear, Iulius.”
He blinked, startled that she knew his name. “None,” he said, believing her completely. “She burned her wooden idols over two years ago. The other physician said a god had put his hand on her. Is that what you think is wrong? That one of the gods she disposed of has put a curse on her?”
“No. The God your mistress serves is the only true God, and he does all things to good purpose for those who love him.”
“Then why has he done this to her? She loves him, Rapha. She’d exhausted herself in service to him, and now the physician says there’s nothing that can be done, that I should let her die. The other physicians said the same thing. One even left poison to end her life quickly,” he said, nodding toward the colored vial on the table near the bed. “What can I do for her, Rapha?” His face was lined with despair.
“Don’t lose hope. She breathes, Iulius. Her heart beats. She lives.”
“But what of her mind?” Alexander said from where he stood, annoyed that she was giving hope where there was none. “Is a person truly alive whose mind no longer functions?”
She looked down at Phoebe. “Leave me alone with her for a while.”
Iulius, eager for a miraculous cure, withdrew immediately. Alexander, who had seen what God could do, still clung to reason and doubted in supernatural intervention. “What are you going to do?”
“Speak with her.”
“She can’t understand you, Rapha, nor can you understand her. I’ve seen cases like this before when I was studying under Phlegon. Her mind is confused. She is beyond reach. She will decline physically and then die.”
“I think she understands a great deal, Alexander.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Look into her eyes.”
“I did.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Let me speak with her alone.”
Alexander looked toward the bed and then back at Hadassah. He wanted to ask her what she intended to do, what words she intended to utter.
“Go, please, Alexander.”
“I’ll be right outside the door.” He grasped her arm. “Whatever happens, I want the details later.”
As he left the room, a servant closed the doors behind him, shutting Hadassah alone in the room. She came closer to the bed.
“My lady . . .”
Phoebe heard the gentle voice above her and felt the slight dip in the wool-stuffed mattress as someone sat down on the bed beside her. The voice was husky and low, unfamiliar. “Do you know who I am?” it said, and she rolled her eyes toward the sound and tried to focus. All she could make out was a blue cloud of veils. “Don’t be afraid of me,” the woman said as she began to lift the concealing layers that hid her.
When Phoebe saw the scarred face, she felt a wave of pity and sadness. Then she looked into the young woman’s eyes. Oh, the dark, luminous eyes, so gentle, so calm. She knew them so well. Hadassah! But how could this be? She tried to speak, but the words came out garbled and unintelligible. She tried harder. Tears filled her eyes. She moved her left hand sluggishly.
Hadassah grasped it, pressing it against her heart. “You do know me,” she said and smiled down at her. “Oh, my lady, you are well.”
“Haa . . . daaa . . .”
Hadassah stroked Phoebe’s forehead, soothing her. “The Lord is good, my lady. I’ve been discouraged these past weeks, and now I see by you that his Word doesn’t go out and come back empty. You’ve opened your heart to him, haven’t you?” She felt Phoebe’s hand squeeze hers weakly. Hadassah kissed it, tears of joy pouring down her cheeks.
“Don’t lose hope, my lady. Remember that you rest in him, and he loves you. When you came to him, he poured out blessings upon you. He promises his continued blessing. I don’t know why this paralysis has come upon you, but I do know Jesus has not abandoned you. He will never abandon you, my lady. This may even be his way of drawing you closer to him. Seek his face. Listen to him. Remember who he is, our comforter, our strength, our counselor, our healer. Ask what his will is for your life. He hasn’t taken you home for a purpose. He will reveal that purpose to you. It may be that God has done this thing in order to give you a greater commission than one you might have assumed for yourself.”
Hadassah felt Phoebe’s fingers bear down weakly on hers. Hadassah put both of her hands around Phoebe’s as though in prayer. “I will pray that God reveals his love for you in ways that will give you new purpose.”
“Mar . . .” Tears rolled down Phoebe’s temples into her graying hair.
Hadassah’s eyes filled with tears. “I have never stopped praying for Marcus.” She leaned down and kissed Phoebe’s cheek. “I love you, my lady. Surrender to the Lord completely, and he will lead you.”
She rose from the bed and covered her face with the veils. She went to the doors and opened them. Iulius and Alexander were right outside the door, as well as several servants. Filled with excitement and joy, she laughed. “Come in, please.”
Iulius strode to the bed. He stood staring down at his mistress, and his shoulders drooped. “She’s no better,” he said flatly. “I thought. . . .”
“Look into her eyes, Iulius. Her mind isn’t confused. She understands you perfectly. She’s not lost to us, my friend. Take her hand.”
He did so and drew in his breath as Phoebe’s fingers weakly pressed his. He leaned down and looked into her eyes. She closed them and then opened them. “Oh, my lady . . . !”
Hadassah looked at Alexander and saw his grim stance. She wondered what thoughts were going through his mind.
“What do we do now, my lord?” Iulius asked him. “What do I do to take good care of her?”
Alexander gave him instructions on how to prepare nutritious foods that would be easy for her to eat. He told Iulius that he or one of the servants should move Phoebe regularly. “Don’t let her remain in the same position for too many hours a day. She’ll develop pressure sores and bruises that would only aggravate her condition. Massage her muscles and work her arms and legs gently. Beyond that, I don’t know what to tell you.”
Hadassah sat down on the bed and took Phoebe’s other hand. Phoebe moved her eyes until they focused on her, and Hadassah saw that her eyes shone.
Hadassah rubbed her hand. “Iulius will take you out onto the balcony each day that the weather is good so you can feel the sun on your face and hear the birds sing. He knows you understand, my lady.” She raised her head. “Talk to her, Iulius. There’ll be times when she’ll be discouraged and frightened. Remind her that God loves her and he’s with her and no power on earth can take her from the palm of his hand.”
She looked at Phoebe Valerian again. “You have some movement, my lady. Find ways of telling Iulius what you need and what you’re feeling.”
Phoebe closed her eyes and opened them again.
“Good,” Hadassah said. She lightly brushed Phoebe’s cheek with the back of her knuckles. “I’ll come back to visit when I can, my lady.”
Phoebe closed her eyes and opened them again. They filled again with tears.
As Hadassah rose, she took the vial from the small table. She held it out to Iulius. “Throw this away.”
Iulius took the vial and hurled it through the open doors to the balcony, where it shattered upon the tiles. He bowed low. “Thank you, Rapha.”
She returned the bow gravely. “Thank God, Iulius. Thank God.”
Alexander said little on the ride
Alexander poured a small draft of wine and handed it to her. She removed her veils and sipped.
“What possible life can that woman have, imprisoned in a body that won’t function?” he said, allowing his anger to vent. He poured himself a goblet of Falernian wine. “It would be better if she died. At least then, her soul would be free rather than trapped in that useless shell of a body.”
“She is free, my lord.”
“How can you say that? She can hardly move, let alone walk. She can’t utter an intelligible word. Everything she says comes out meaningless gibberish. She can move her left hand and foot and blink her eyes. And it’s not likely she will ever again be able to do more than that.”
She smiled. “I was never more free than when I was locked in the dungeon waiting to be sent into the arena to die. God was there in the darkness with me, just as he is with her now.”
“What use is she to herself or anyone else?”
She raised her head, her dark eyes flashing. “Who are you to say whether she is of use? She is alive! That is statement enough.” Her anger quieted, and she tried to reassure him. “God has a purpose for her.”
“What possible purpose has anyone in her condition? And what sort of life will it be, Rapha?”
“The life God has given her.”
“Don’t you think it’d be more merciful to end her suffering than allow her to linger in her present condition?”
“You said once that it’s God who decides whether a man lives or dies. Have you changed your mind? Would you now say it’s up to you or some other physician to decide whether she lives? Murder is not an act of mercy, my lord.”
Heat filled his face. “I’m not speaking of murder, and you know it!”
“Indeed, you are, though you would try to cloak it in other words.” She spoke with quiet conviction and sadness. “What else can you call ending someone’s life before God’s time?”
“I don’t consider that a reasonable question, Rapha.”
“What is a reasonable question?”
“One that doesn’t involve celestial interpretation that is beyond the ability of any man to answer.” His mouth tightened. “Perhaps we should talk of something else.”
“Not a sparrow falls from the sky without God knowing. He already knows the moment and reason for Phoebe Valerian’s death. Nothing is hidden from God.” She rested the small clay cup on her lap, knowing what she had to say would hurt him. “Perhaps you aren’t even aware of the deeper reasons you have for wanting to end her life.”
“And what reason might that be?”
“Convenience?”
His face reddened. “You would say that to me?”
“She will be completely dependent upon others to care for her physical body. That requires great compassion and love, Alexander. Iulius has that. You have no time for it.”
He was seldom angry, but her words stirred a fury within him. “Have I ever lacked for compassion? Hasn’t my sole desire been to learn all I can in order to help people?”
“What of those you turn away?”
“I only turn patients away I know I can’t cure.”
“Have they less need of your love?”
He sensed no condemnation in her words, yet felt the sharp slice of them in his heart. “What am I supposed to do, Rapha? Take on everyone who asks me for help? What would you have me do?”
Setting her cup aside, she rose and limped across the room. She stood before him and said simply, “This” and put her arms around him. She said nothing more, and her sweet embrace made his heart ache. He felt her hand move on his back, rubbing softly, comforting, and all the anger and confusion left him. His eyes smarted. He closed them and put his arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He let out his breath slowly.
“Sometimes I’d like to ring your neck, you frustrate me so much,” he said gruffly.
She laughed softly. “I know exactly how you feel.”
Grinning, he drew back and cupped her face, lifting it. “What would I do without you, Rapha.”
Her amusement died. She took his hands in hers and squeezed them. “You would have to learn to trust the Lord.”
Alexander felt dismay as she released his hands and limped slowly toward the door. Suddenly, unaccountably, he knew he was alone. He knew he would eventually lose her. He didn’t know how or why, he just knew.
Something had happened tonight that he couldn’t define. Had God shown her another path? For the first time in his life, he wished he owned her, that he could claim legal, personal possession of her and keep her by his side permanently.
He frowned, wondering at this unease he felt, and then remembered his suspicions when Rashid had brought word that a servant from the Valerian household was waiting below. Hadassah’s head had come up as though struck by a bolt of lightning.
Sudden understanding flowed into him, and he looked at her in horror. “You knew her, didn’t you, Hadassah? You didn’t just know of Phoebe Valerian, you had personal knowledge of her.” His heart beat heavily. “It was the Valerian family who owned you, wasn’t it?” Fear filled him, fear for her sake—fear for his sake and the thought of losing her. “What did you do during that time you were alone with her? Hadassah!”
She left the room without answering him.
But Alexander already knew what she had done. Hadassah had removed her veils. She had revealed herself to a member of the very household who had tried to have her killed.
“By the gods . . . !” he said under his breath, raking his hands through his hair.
Why hadn’t he asked her if she knew the Valerians before he had taken her there? He had known from the beginning there were risks. Now he had put her in danger. And for what? To witness another miracle of healing? No! He had taken her along with him because he was proud of her abilities, proud she was his assistant. And what had his insufferable pride accomplished?
A helpless desperation flowed over him. God, protect her! I’ve been a fool! I’ve put her in mortal danger. I’ve exposed her to the family who tried to kill her once already.
What if the woman regained her voice? What then? God, he prayed fervently, hands clenched, keep that woman’s tongue confused. Keep her silent!
Sitting down, he cursed himself.
Hadassah entrusted herself to God, but he couldn’t be so trusting. To lose Hadassah would be to lose everything. He was only just beginning to understand that, only beginning to face what she meant to him. Maybe he had to put all scruples aside and take the matter into his own hands. Besides, the woman was better off dead. He winced, thinking of what Hadassah had said. But he had to be rational.
One visit to Phoebe Valerian and he could make sure Hadassah would be out of danger for good. Once Phoebe Valerian was dead, he would make sure Hadassah never went near another Valerian.
Suddenly Hadassah’s words echoed in his mind. Convenience. Was convenience reason enough to kill someone? No. But what about protecting the life of another? What of retribution? The Valerians had tried to murder her by sending her into the arena to face the lions. What of vengeance?
He shuddered, realizing the course of his thinking. He remembered Hadassah bending over Phoebe Valerian. Everything about the way she stood and spoke revealed the love she had for that woman. How was it possible?
He clenched his teeth. There were any number of ways he could protect Rapha from the Valerians.
But that wasn’t the real problem.
How was he going to protect Hadassah from herself?
17
Ezra Barjachin threw his hands into the air in frustration. Why must his wife go to pieces now when he needed her to stand firmly beside him? “I kno
“If you knew, why did you bring him into our house? Why have you done this terrible thing to us?” Jehosheba wailed. “Everyone knows! They saw you enter the gates of the city. They watched you bring that man up the street and into our house. I can feel their hot eyes boring through the walls. They will not let you enter the synagogue after this!”
“What would you have had me do, Jehosheba? Leave him in the wadi to die?”
“Yes! It’s no less than a Roman deserves! Have you forgotten Joseph? Have you forgotten the others who died in Jerusalem? Have you forgotten the thousands carried off into slavery to Gentile dogs like him?”
“I’ve forgotten nothing!” He turned away in futility. “Your daughter wouldn’t let me leave him.”
“My daughter? So you lay the blame at my door even when I wasn’t there. She’s your daughter, her head always in the clouds. You should both come down to earth! You take our daughter to arrange a marriage for her and what happens? You come back and tell me your brother threw you out and said he never wants to see you again! And to make matters worse, you find a Roman along the road and drag him home with you!”
“I tried to leave him at the inn, but Meggido wouldn’t accept him. I even offered to pay.”
She burst into tears. “What will the neighbors say?”
Taphatha stood listening on the steps to the roof, where she and her father had carried the Roman. She had remained until he slept. The long, painful ordeal of the journey to Jericho had been very difficult on him. She was thankful it was over. She was thankful he was alive.
She was also thankful he could not hear what her mother was saying.
The only sound now was her mother weeping. She came down the last steps. Her father looked at her, distraught and helpless, and shook his head in frustration.
Taphatha went and knelt before her mother. “Mama, the neighbors will say Father remembered the Scriptures. God desires mercy, not sacrifice.”
Jehosheba raised her head slowly, her cheeks streaked with tears. She looked into her daughter’s face and wondered at her. How had Taphatha come to possess such a beautiful, sweet spirit?