Lucius: A Soldier's Journey

By Rev. Michael H. Lavery

Lucius is a soldier of Rome. Lucius is a man of renown, from a family whose military lineage is as old as Rome itself. He is loyal to Caesar, a part of the iron fist that imposes Caesar's will. Lucius is conflicted. On one hand, he serves Caesar. On the other, he loathes the power lust of an empire whose concept of peace always leaves another war to fight.

Then there is the father of Lucius. A father who was taken from him early in his life yet, in such a short time, imputed to his son concepts that were anything but Roman--his hatred of slavery and his view that people were to be heard and respected rather than ruled. These concepts would forever forge the character of young Lucius.

Lucius, now an old soldier, still seeks truth but wonders if it exists. But then comes the fateful reassignment that would put him on a collision course with the one who is the truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685170790

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Lucius

A Soldier's Journey

Rev. Michael H. Lavery

ISBN 978-1-68517-078-3 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68517-079-0 (digital)

Copyright © 2022 by Rev. Michael H. Lavery

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Lucius the Soldier

The Reassignment

Chloe

The Dream

The Reassignment Comes

The Journey

Pilate

Capernaum

The Battle

The Mission

The Miracle

The Mission to Jerusalem

Passover

The Call

About the Author

To the everlasting God, the Creator and sustainer of all that is.

To Christ Jesus the Son, who with his own blood purchased redemption for Adam's fallen race and eternal salvation for all who believe.

To the precious Holy Spirit, who empowers us and inspires us to go above and beyond our wildest expectations.

Chapter 1

Lucius the Soldier

Lucius was a soldier. He had served the emperors Augustus and Tiberius the Great with the honor and distinction that befitted his proud military lineage. A military lineage, it had been said, that could be traced as far back as Rome itself.

The father of Lucius spoke to him not as a man would speak to a child but as a man would speak to another man from his tenderest age. He conveyed to young Lucius with great pride that in the beginning when the immortal Romulus carved out the borders of the eternal city with an ox and a plow, Lucius's ancestors walked beside Romulus with drawn swords as his protectors. The ancestors of Lucius served with honor the likes of Julius Caesar. They marched with Scipio Africanus, who defeated the mighty Hannibal and brought Carthage to its knees. The campaigns, the conquests, the glory, and the honor bestowed upon his family's proud military traditions. They were far too numerous to be chronicled.

As a young boy, Lucius came to know the great sacrifice which was also a very real part of military service. Lucius, from the earliest days of his childhood, was being groomed for military service. He found himself at the tender age of ten years bereft of his father. Years later, Lucius would learn that his father died leading his legion against insurgents during an uprising in one of the conquered territories. In keeping with his family's proud military traditions, Antonicus, his father, died a hero of Rome. He received the imperial legate posthumously.

One might well think that having been separated from his father at such an early stage in his life that any influence his father Antonicus might have had upon the character of the young lad would be lost. However, this was not the case. Antonicus had imparted many concepts and ideals unto the young child. Ideals that, in that time, might well have been considered treasonous. Yet these concepts had taken firm root in the consciousness of the young child.

Antonicus was often very critical of the way in which Rome administered its policies. The conquered and subjugated territories were often subjected to cruel injustice. Young Lucius would sit and listen in silence. His father would vent his frustration at what he deemed the childish way in which Rome administered its vast empire.

What is the point of conquest? would often be his father's lamentation. He would implore young Lucius always to remember history. Consider the wisdom that she bestows. If only we had the sense to follow in her wise instruction. Consider, my son, the great empires of the past. The Babylonians, the Medes, the Persians, the Greeks. Alexander the Great conquered all the world and wept bitterly when he had no more worlds to conquer. My son, to what end was all this bloodletting and all this conquest made? That in the end, all these empires might crumble into the dust, becoming the beneficiaries of the same cruelty that they, in their glory, bestowed upon others. Consider our glorious Roman Empire, the next actor to present itself upon the stage of history. Have we learned from the failures of these past empires? Have we gleamed any wisdom from history? Nay! Nay! That would be his lament. We follow instead in their footsteps and are doomed to the same end. My son, I am a soldier, Antonicus would say with great emotion. My heart grieves within me when I consider friends and comrades of the past generations who have made such sacrifices and carry in their bodies, as I do, the scars of battle. And to what end? The establishment of an empire founded on a faulty foundation. Pride and vanity! he would exclaim in disgust. For men to die for the arrogance of foolish politicians, sitting upon their alabaster thrones, what a waste. Then Antonicus, the embodiment of courage and strength would embrace his son tightly and weep bitterly. He would weep for all the brave soldiers, lost for a cause, that he felt was unjust and cruel.

Young Lucius was always aware of a strange oddity in his household. When he visited in the homes of his friends, he always noted the presence of slaves. Slaves did various jobs within the home. Some were cooks. Others did home maintenance while others cleaned or even tutored the children of the house. Slaves would also serve as personal valets to the master or mistress of the house.

Young Lucius always thought it strange that, in their home, no slaves cared for his family. Instead, they had paid servants, who did all the duties of slaves in other homes.

One day when Lucius was having one of his fatherly interactions, he dared to ask his father. My father, why don't we own slaves?

His father sat dumbfounded for a time; this caused Lucius no small concern. As he felt he might have upset his father with the question, Lucius seeing his father's stoic silence quickly apologized for his perceived transgression.

His father smiled and asked Lucius a question. Why are there slaves, my son?

Now it was Lucius who sat in stoic silence. Then after some thought, he answered simply, I don't know. Then he added, I guess these slaves are the fruits of our conquests.

Antonicus then asked, My son, why do we conquer?

Lucius did not take long to deliberate on that question. He answered with authority, The gods have given us the responsibility of bringing our culture and way of life to all the world.

This answer drew a smile from his father. Did they teach you this in school or at the temple?

This question drew a sheepish grin from young Lucius. Both, he answered.

Well, then it would seem that if indeed we do the work of the gods, should it not be with the extended hand of a friend? Rather than the iron fist of the tyrant? If indeed our culture and way of life are superior to that of other people, is it not our obligation to share what we have with an open hand? Knowledge and culture should be shared for the mutual benefit of all. If men and nations could learn such a simple truth, there would be no need for conflict. My son, remember this truth as long as you live—a slave will never love his master. The slave will live to throw off the yoke of his oppression. When his master dies, the slave will cry no bitter tears of sorrow. But instead shall rejoice at the death of his tormentor. In our home, all the servants were once slaves. I purchased them at the slave auctions and afterward bought their freedom. I gave to them the option of going away or staying on with me and working for wages.

To young Lucius, this was indeed a revelation.

Slavery is wrong, my son. And as long as there is life in my body, I will never own another man or woman and call them slaves.

Thus were the radical ideals of his father imparted unto the son. Though very young, these ideals seemed to be burnt into the young lad's very soul, as with a firebrand.

Lucius the Roman followed in his father's footsteps as a field general, maintaining the family heritage of military distinction. Lucius, a man who upheld the ruthless law of the empire and Caesar, to whom he had sworn his sacred honor to the shedding of his very life's blood. Lucius, the man who was an integral part of the mighty Roman hammer that had forged all the world into its glorious image. Lucius, a man so tormented, so conflicted, an enigma, defending and upholding the very things he found so wrong, so repulsive, and unjust. Lucius, who struggled, as his father before him, with the haunting questions: Can there be a better way? Can the peoples of the world be brought together to work as one? Or could it be that only by fire and sword, by massive force of arms, could the peoples of the world be compelled to serve together? Lucius, a man so vexed, so torn within, searching as his father did before him. Searching for an answer he was not sure could be found.

Chapter 2

The Reassignment

The Pax Romana had taken full effect. The world, according to Tiberius Caesar, son of the gods, was at peace.

Lucius had found himself stationed in Rome for the past five years. He believed, due to his advanced age and body that had endured many a battle scar, Rome would probably be his final posting.

During this posting, Lucius had been tasked with training an ever-increasing number of raw green recruits. Lucius found it rather odd that, in a time of peace, the number of recruits had risen so dramatically. However, Lucius was a soldier, and as such, it was not his place to question. His battlefield experience had best suited him for whipping raw recruits into a fighting force.

When speaking of enigmas, the training of green young recruits was just that to Lucius. A man, who so longed for peace, must now train young men to fight and die in a time deemed peaceful.

When training recruits, the first order of business was to transform mama's boys into hard physical specimens. This could only be accomplished with rigorous physical exercise. Each day for many hours, young men were subjected to torturous physical rigor. Running for miles in blazing heat. Climbing walls with a seventy-pound pack lashed to their back. Scaling steep cliffs in full field gear. Lifting weights until the arms and shoulders were numb. To all these rigors, Lucius applied himself. He pushed his battered body to the breaking point but refused to require any recruit to do something he could not.

From the moment a recruit arrived, strict military discipline was enforced. Complaints of any sort were dealt with harshly. The food, the barracks, the torture of training were all to be endured without complaint. Men had to learn how to respond to direct orders without question. The words of your commanding officer were to be treated as the voice of the gods.

Once a young recruit was so hardened, he was trained in the use of all implements of modern warfare. Then came the hardest of all training—the understanding of military tactics. A soldier could be the strongest and the best with a sword pike or dagger. But if he could not function in the framework of the legion, he and all those around him would not last long in a battle.

The Romans did not invent the act of war; they simply perfected it. The Greeks developed the phalanx, a battle-tested-and-proven formation. With the phalanx, three hundred Spartans, under the command of their king, Leonidas, defended the Thermopylae pass against tens of thousands. The phalanx, while an excellent battle formation, had its weaknesses. Six thousand Greeks deployed in a long defensive line, bristling with spears and swords would be very difficult to breach. However, it could be flanked. And while effective on a level battlefield, the phalanx was most ineffective on rolling battlefields. A rolling hilly landscape would render the phalanx useless.

The Roman legion was a refit of the Greek phalanx. A Roman legion would consist of between four thousand to six thousand men. These men were divided into units called maniple. A maniple would consist of a line ten men wide and about six to twelve men deep. The legion would advance in three lines of ten maniple each. This would make the legion far more fluid in its deployment when compared to the very rigid phalanx. The maniple could be pivoted and reconfigured as the battle might dictate. Teaching raw recruits how to function in such a deployment would take an experienced, battle-tested veteran. It was for this cause that Lucius was chosen for this post.

Rome was unlike so many other civilizations before it whose armies were bent on destruction, leaving their enemies in ruin. The Romans' desire was always to use the conquered and subjugated territories for the good of the empire. The Roman soldiers not only had to know how to kill and destroy but how to build. Roads for trade had to be constructed to bind the empire together. Forts and defensive works had to be constructed. City walls had to be repaired and fortified. Aqueducts to bring mountain water to once-barren fields had to be built. These works were all accomplished by the Roman soldiers.

Evenings at the training compound often found Lucius and his fellow officers discussing the day's events over a glass of wine. The officers' mess often proved an enjoyable distraction from the grind of the training fields. The officers' mess was a rather-intimate setting. The men felt at ease to speak freely on a wide range of topics. The topic of greatest concern, in recent days, seemed to be the constantly growing number of recruits. It seemed odd that, in a time of such peace, so many men were being trained for service. If indeed the empire enjoyed such peace and prosperity, why was there a need for so many fighting men? Even more alarming were the rumors that circulated. It was going around that some of them might very soon be reassigned. The reason for such rumors was not readily comprehendible, seeing there had been no reports of anything out of the ordinary. However, in the coming days, what was deemed a rumor by most would become a reality to one.

One night during the officers' mess, the valet for Commander Liceanius appeared at the door.

One of the officers poked Lucius in the side with his elbow. Would you look at that, old spit and shine himself. The old man's Valet. I wonder what he wants?

The young soldier scanned the room until his gaze fastened itself upon the table where Lucius and his comrades sat. A sense of apprehension filled each man as, with steady stride, the valet made his way toward them. He stopped at the head of their table. He saluted smartly. The men rose and returned his salute. With a voice that sounded less like a voice and more like a trumpet blast, the young man announced, Commander Liceanius requests the presence of General Lucius in his quarters immediately.

Lucius responded, Tell the good commander I come.

Very well, sir, came the response. With his mission accomplished, the young soldier wielded smartly and marched out.

The valet had no sooner than left the mess hall when the table erupted in speculation. Why you, Lucius? was the query on every man's lips.

I told the commander I come, so let me go. And when I know myself, I then can tell you.

In less than five minutes, Lucius stood at the commander's door.

Upon knocking, he heard the voice of his old friend bid him to enter. Lucius! the commander exclaimed with hand outstretched and a broad smile upon his face. Lucius, you old warhorse, prompt as usual. Sit down and rest yourself. I hear you match those much younger men stride for stride in the field. Hold forth the standard for the rest of us, good Lucius.

Lucius smiled and thanked the commander for his praise.

Would you like some wine? I mean real wine, not that pig swill they serve in the officers' mess.

Before Lucius could answer, Liceanius clapped his hands. Out of nowhere, a slave appeared and bowed himself.

Wine! the commander ordered.

The slave bowed and left the room. In a moment, he returned with a bottle and two goblets in hand. He set a goblet before each man, then lifted up the bottle to pour.

Liceanius whisked his hand as if swatting at a fly. Leave us! he commanded. We can pour our own wine.

The slave bowed himself and left the room.

After each man had drunk two glasses of wine, which Lucius actually found no better than the watered-down swill to which his pallet had become accustomed, Commander Liceanius settled down to the matter at hand. No doubt that you are wondering the purpose of this meeting.

The thought had crossed my mind, Lucius responded.

Apart from the sharing of some fond old memories, I do have a matter of urgent business to discuss.

Suddenly, Lucius noticed an uneasiness come over the commander. His entire demeanor had changed. It was as if he struggled to find the right words.

After a brief uneasy pause, the commander finally admitted. There is no easy way to say this. Lucius, my friend, you're being reassigned.

Lucius sat expressionless across the table. Where and when? was his answer.

I can answer one of those questions. The other is still being decided.

Lucius inquired, Which can you answer?

I can answer the where was the response. Lucius, we need a man of your experience to command troops in a very troubled region of the empire.

Wait! Lucius answered abruptly. Did you say troubled region of the empire? Liceanius, my dear friend, according to our glorious emperor, the world is at peace. If indeed the world is at peace, there should be no troubled regions.

For the first time in their discourse, Lucius noticed an irritability in the voice of Liceanius.

Don't be flippant about this, Lucius. The empire is in real trouble. This is why we must send you to a region known as Israel.

Lucius pondered for a moment, saying nothing.

Liceanius sat and waited for some response. When none came forth, he inquired, Well, Lucius, what do you think?

If my memory serves me correctly, Israel is a subjugated territory, is it not?

You are correct in this, Liceanius responded. Then he began to brief Lucius concerning the conditions. This area of the empire has become a graveyard for the budding aspirations of many a young Roman politician. Then he sat back in his chair and had a hardy laugh with himself.

I fail to see the humor, quipped Lucius.

Liceanius apologized and said, These Jews that inhabit the land have a long and storied history as a fighting people. The Jew is also known for his stiff-necked opposition to all who have tried to rule him. I dare say when the whole thing finally comes to a head, we will be forced to crush their resistance.

Lucius sat up straight in his chair. Is that the purpose of my going? Have I been chosen to be the hammer to smash a people into submission?

Liceanius laughed yet again. No, dear friend. Your job will be to bolster the sagging morale of the troops. You will also assist that poor fool, Pontius Pilate, our appointed governor.

Why do you refer to the governor as a fool?

Liceanius became very sullen as he explained, Pilate was a great soldier, a good leader, much like you, Lucius. He was a determined fighter. Somewhere along the line, good Pontius entertained the foolish notion that he had figured out the complex problems that confronted the empire. Perhaps he felt as a governor, then a senator, and possibly even a Caesar, he could effect changes that would bring tranquility to the empire. I have seen so many soldiers have great promise, leave the corps to become politicians, and then disappear.

Why would they leave an aspiring military career for politics? Lucius mused.

I guess they tire of the constant bloodletting. It seems the more blood let, the more blood we are called upon to let, Liceanius lamented. Let us now consider the hellhole to which you have been assigned. Our forces in that region are suffering loses on a daily basis to attacks from Zealots. These rebel forces are especially strong in the north of the country. This is the main reason troop morale is so low. Israel is a subjugated territory. Therefore, it does have a small standing army and a king. Dealing with Herod, the king of the Jews, is much like playing with a cobra. Herod is a power-crazed madman who cannot be trusted. It is said he had several wives and a son executed that he suspected of disloyalty.

Lucius laughed. We should bring him here. He would fit right in.

With that, Liceanius broke into a loud laughter. Then he put his finger to his lips. Good Lucius, keep your voice down. The walls have ears in Rome. The temple in Jerusalem has its own standing army, and Herod has an army that protects him. The soldiers are well trained and skilled. But we consider them little more than a mercenary army.

Lucius shook his head in disgust. Mercenaries, if confronted with an enemy army before me and a mercenary army at my rear, I would attack both fronts.

At this, Liceanius burst into a hearty laughter. Me too. He cried in response. When at last the two men had composed themselves, Liceanius continued. I know that you and your fellow officers have wondered why, in a time of peace, have so many recruits been run through this training facility.

It has been the topic of some spirited conversation around the table at mess, Lucius responded.

The empire is in desperate peril, Liceanius confided.

Lucius sat in dumbfounded silence for a moment. Then he responded, How so?

In the far reaches of the empire, our troop's strength is virtually nonexistent. We do not have the manpower nor the logistical ability to keep a large army adequately supplied. Liceanius once again became very stoic. Lucius, what I am about to share with you now must never go beyond these walls.

Lucius was alarmed at his commander's almost-fatal tone.

Perhaps now you can see and understand why it is essential that we maintain a show of force in these areas. It is necessary that we rule with unrelenting ferocity. We must judge all potential threats to our rule with harsh and merciless judgment. We must put forth the illusion of power. We must project an image of strength and control in order to keep the Zealots at bay.

I see, said Lucius. Correct me at any time if what I say is wrong. If I understand correctly, it will be my task to raise the sagging morale of our troops by transforming this beaten army into an aggressive fighting force with the capabilities of taking the fight to these Zealots. Tell me, good Liceanius, is my assessment of the situation correct?

Liceanius nodded his head. You grasp the situation perfectly, Lucius. I'm so very sorry, Lucius. You deserve to finish your career here. But we are soldiers, and that's not our choice, I'm afraid. Your rank will be upgraded to commander, which of course means more pay.

Lucius rose to his feet and extended his hand. Do not trouble yourself, old friend. I never really expected to die of old age here in Rome.

Liceanius laughed. Then he quipped, It is good to see you have not lost your sense of humor, old friend. Here, have more wine. As soon as I learn the details of your transfer, I will inform you immediately.

Lucius simply nodded in response. Then both men sat back to watery cups of wine.

Chapter 3

Chloe

Lucius had no slaves in his house. However, he did have three hired servants.

Two brothers, Mark and Arius by name, Greeks by birth. Mark was the eldest. He was bright, learned quickly, tall, and strong as an ox. Lucius would make him his personal valet. He would be expertly trained in the ways of war and would stand beside his master at all times. Arius, his younger brother, was a brilliant inventor. Lucius marveled at the many engines he built to move water to irrigate the fields. Arius could fix or build anything to which he set his mind.

Margarette, who kept the house and was the family cook, greatly appreciated Arius and his time-saving inventions. Margarette was of Spanish blood and had served Lucius many years. She was the mistress of the house and the greatest cook in the world. By the account of young Arius, Margarette was tall and olive skinned with large brown eyes and jet-black hair. In truth, she was a beautiful woman. The men of the house greatly appreciated her cooking skills, coupled with her cheerful disposition and lovely singing voice. Returning to his quarters, after long days on the brutal training fields, Lucius would find his heart raised by the lovely strains of Margarette's beautiful songs.

Lucius had purchased all of them as slaves. But as his father before him, Lucius would not have slaves in his house. Therefore, at great personal expense, Lucius purchased each one their freedom. Then he gave each the option of staying and working for wages in his house. Going forth and seeking their own fortunes as free persons was also an option afforded them.

Lucius made his way home alone, having sent Mark ahead of him. He walked slowly. His meeting with Liceanius still weighed heavy on his mind. So many thoughts raced through his head. Not the least of which was how he would break this news to his servants.

Lucius approached the front door. His hand had barely touched the handle when the door opened before him. Mark stood before him, a sullen look upon his face. He said nothing but simply stepped to one side to let his master pass. Upon entering the house, Lucius beheld young Arius doubled up in a chair. He sat with his head in his hands while Margarette gently rubbed his back and whispered softly in his ear. As Lucius approached, Margarette stood up straight, and Arius sprang to his feet. Lucius could see Arius had tears on his cheeks, and his eyes were red. Margarette also had tears on her cheeks. To Lucius, this was most unusual, seeing that his servants were not given to much emotion.

What is wrong here? Lucius inquired in an inquisitive manner.

Suddenly, a smile crossed Arius's lips. Master Lucius, Margarette has received splendid news. Splendid news indeed. Arius turned to Margarette. Show Master Lucius the letter and share your good fortune with him.

Lucius gave Margarette a puzzled look. What good news is this? he inquired.

Master Lucius, do you remember the friends I told you about back in España?

Yes, I remember, Lucius answered. If memory serves me correctly, they were conducting a search for your family members.

You remember then, good master. With that, Margarette retrieved a piece of paper from a nearby table. I received this letter today. It seems after years of searching, they have managed to find my mother and one of my brothers.

She handed the letter to Lucius who read it intently. Handing the letter back, Lucius expressed his heartfelt joy and embraced Margarette.

May I go, Master Lucius?

This inquiring puzzled Lucius. Of course, you can go. You are a free woman.

I know this, but I want your blessing, kind master.

You have it, dear Margarette. You have it a thousand times, Lucius replied. When shall you be leaving us? This seemed a universal question on everyone's mind.

The day after tomorrow, a group of travelers leaves for the port city of Puteoli. From there, I hope to find passage on a ship.

The day after tomorrow, Arius groaned plentifully.

Good Arius, the journey from Rome to Puteoli is long. Margarette must book passage while the weather is conducive to good sailing.

Upon hearing this explanation, Arius nodded his head, then bowed it in sorrow.

Margarette looked upon Arius with a motherly type of tenderness. She walked over to Arius and stroked his cheek and gently kissed him. Then she lifted his head and spoke very softly, Arius, you come help me make a wonderful dinner. You come, putting her arm around his waist and guiding him into the kitchen.

Lucius and Mark watched them go. Then Lucius put his hand on Mark's shoulder and directed him outside.

I hear you had a meeting with Commander Liceanius this evening. Is all well? Mark inquired.

No, Lucius answered abruptly. We are being transferred out.

Where will the new posting be? Mark asked.

A place called Galilee, in the north of Israel. Under the jurisdiction of Governor Pontius Pilate. It seems they need a man of my experience to bolster the sagging morale in that region.

Did they give you a departure date? Mark inquired.

No. It may not be for months yet. I will be promoted to commander.

Oh, so now you shall become one of the brass. Mark laughed.

Yes, Lucius replied. However, I can't bring myself to laugh with you. I don't want Margarette or Arius to know. I know Margarette. She is loyal to a fault. I fear she would forgo her plans to return to España. She would feel a sense of duty to me. She must return. Her family needs her more than we do. As for Arius, in his tender emotional state, I would not wish to further tax him.

Mark agreed and vowed his silence until Lucius deemed the time was right.

The day of Margarette's departure came too quickly for the three men. The morning sun found them in a large throng of travelers. The pack on Margarette's back carried all her worldly goods. Hidden under her clothes were several bags of gold coins. The money she had diligently saved over the years for just such a time as this. The crowd of travelers at the main gate was large and varied. There were merchants, with wagonloads of goods. Then soldiers on foot and mounted. Then the throngs of travelers, just like Margarette, launching out into the unknown with looks of hopeful expectation on their faces.

As the hour of her departure grew near, Margarette stood before the three men who had become to her a father and beloved brothers. The hour drew nearer for their parting and, with that parting, a realization. That they might never see one another again in this life.

Margarette stood before Lucius. She so wanted to be a pillar of strength in his presence. But as she looked upon her master, the tears flowed in great abundance.

Lucius reached out his hand and gently brushed away the tears. This is not a time for tears and sorrow, Margarette, but a time to rejoice.

As Margarette spoke, her lips quivered. You're right, Master Lucius. I am going to be reunited with a family I love. Then the emotion she so wanted to hold in burst forth like a flood. She sobbed for a short time, but she regained enough composure to speak. I also am leaving a family I love so very much. Thank you, Master Lucius. If it had not been for you, I shudder to think what would have become of me. With that, Margarette threw her arms around Lucius and squeezed him tightly.

Then she made her way to Mark. Looking at his face, she questioned, Mark, could it be that those are tears I see upon your cheek?

Mark did not hesitate to answer. Yes, they are, Margarette. I am not ashamed to admit it. Mark raised his hand to wipe them away.

Margarette took his hand and softly said, Let me. Margarette then proceeded to kiss the tears away. Then she embraced Mark tightly.

Lastly, Margarette came to Arius. To say that Arius was a pathetic-looking figure would be an understatement. He stood with a downcast gaze. Margarette gently lifted his head until her eyes met his.

His eyes were red, and rivers of water cascaded down his cheeks. You are not even gone yet, and I miss you already, Arius blurted out.

Margarette said nothing but stood, gently stroking his cheek. Then she spoke to him in a very gentle tone, My Arius, how I love you so. Then Margarette took Arius into her arms and kissed him. Not a gentle little kiss but she kissed him as a woman would kiss a man.

The suddenness of this action caught Arius off guard. For a moment, he stood flailing his arms, much like a drowning man. After a while however, he relaxed, looking as if he had passed out.

Shouldering her pack, she prepared to go, when Lucius called her over. He removed a bag of gold coins from his belt.

Margarette protested, Good master Lucius, after all you have done, I cannot take any more from you. I have saved part of my wages for years in expectation of this day. I think I have more than enough.

Lucius took her hand and placed the bag of coins in it. Then he took her other hand and placed it over the bag. I know you have saved a goodly sum, but the journey is long. The unexpected is always a real danger. Please take this with my blessing and do write us to keep us informed as to your welfare.

Margarette sealed the bag and embraced Lucius one last time. Then the procession began to move out of the city. The three men escorted her to the gate. Margarette was off to Puteoli. They stood and watched until the procession disappeared over the hill. For some time thereafter, they stood at the gate. For each man, it seemed a part of them had departed forever.

That evening, all three men sat around the table, partaking of a rather-miserable meal. The dinner of herbs and dried meat was a far cry from what they were accustomed to. The atmosphere was sullen, to say the least. All three men grieved the departure of their dear Margarette.

At last, the silence was broken by Lucius's announcement. In a voice that could only be characterized as depressed, Lucius announced that, on the morrow, he would go to the slave auction. He would seek a new cook and housekeeper. Lucius had hoped he would never set foot in that horrid place again. Mark and Arius watched as beads of sweat formed and ran down their master's face.

Lucius sat at the table, his eyes fixed and lifeless as he spoke of that horrid place. The sight of people all chained together. To see in the faces and eyes of men, women, and even children a complete loss of hope, it was like viewing shadows. Then to see perspective masters, examining the slaves, once-proud men being examined, as one would examine an ox. To witness the fear in the face of a young child being torn from its mother's arms. To see the women being examined, the look of humiliation and stark terror upon their faces as they come to realize the fate that awaits them.

Suddenly, Lucius began to shake. He wiped the sweat off his face. Arius had never seen his master in such a state.

With quivering voice, he began to speak again. I remember one woman. She was purchased by a big fat senator. I could tell he was a senator by his mode of dress. Lucius covered his face with his hands. I still remember her face, the look on her face. She started to struggle, so they tied her hands and her feet. The big fat man motioned to one of his slaves, and he dragged her out by the hair, like a sack of meal. As they dragged her away, she started screaming, ‘Help me, please! Somebody help me! I want my baby! I want my baby!'

Suddenly, Lucius sprang to his feet and bolted out the door. Lucius had not eaten much, but both Mark and Arius heard his violent retching. Arius stood to his feet and made for the door.

Mark stopped him. He has been haunted by the woman for many years. He feels shame that he did not help her.

There was nothing he could have done, Arius answered.

I know, but we are talking about Master Lucius.

At last, Lucius returned, his face ashen, his eyes fixed, as if in a trance.

Mark's voice suddenly snapped him back to reality. Master Lucius, I know how much you hate the slave auction. When I think back to being there with my brother Arius, knowing at some point we would undoubtedly have been sold separately. Hearing his cries and mine as we were rent from each other's grasp. Knowing we would no doubt never see each other again. The memory of this still gives me night terrors. But then you came into our lives, Master Lucius. You needed only one slave, but you bought two. That my brother and I might remain together. Mark hesitated for a moment. His eyes filled with tears. Then he continued his discourse once he had regained his composure. Master Lucius, you gave us hope where there was only darkness. You gave us freedom from our chains. You gave us life when we had all but died inside. Good master, if we could live ten lives as your faithful servants, we could not begin to repay the debt we owe to you. Tomorrow, when you enter the slave auction, remember us, good master. Remember Mark and Arius. Remember Margarette, who is now going to rejoin her family in España. Good master, when you enter that horrid place, remember us and know that you are there to save a life. In the same way as you saved ours.

But, dear Mark, I can only save one. And there are so many, Lucius lamented.

This is true, good master, so you will save one at a time.

Lucius smiled and nodded as he embraced his two servants. Men who he loved as the sons he never had.

Early the next morning, Lucius had Arius hitch up the cart. After they had finished their business at the slave auction, Lucius wanted to take the new girl for some new clothes. Then to the market to buy the necessary provisions for the house. Lucius wanted Arius along so that he might acquaint himself with the new servant.

Upon entering the slave auction, Lucius panned the scene before him. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever changed in this horrid place. Hundreds of helpless people, eyes downcast, chained together, waiting to meet their uncertain futures. Then suddenly, his eyes lit upon a young woman. The look on her face was one of total defiance. Yet Lucius could see a childlike fear