Free A Voice in the Wind by Francine Rivers Page B

hear.
    Decimus and Phoebe watched their son leave. Julia jumped up and followed him. It had always pleased Phoebe to see how devoted Julia was to her older brother, and how deep was his affection for his young sister. There was an eight-year age difference between the two, her other two children between having been lost in infancy.
    However, lately, their closeness had worried Phoebe. Julia was high-spirited and passionate, a nature easily corrupted. And Marcus had developed into an outspoken epicurean. He saw little purpose in life other than to make money and take every pleasure he could from it. She supposed she couldn’t blame the young men and women who embraced this philosophy, for over the past few years, turmoil and bloodshed had taken so many. Life was uncertain. Yet, she was bothered by such attitudes.
    What had happened to decency? What had happened to purity and faithfulness? Life was more than pleasure. It was duty and honor. It was building a family. It was caring for others who hadn’t the means to care for themselves.
    She looked at Decimus. He was deep in thought. She touched his hand again, drawing his attention. “I would like to see Marcus married and settled. What did he say about an alliance with the Garibaldis?”
    “He said no.”
    “You couldn’t sway him? Olympia is a very lovely girl.”
    “As you just noticed, Marcus can have his choice of lovely young girls, slave or free,” Decimus said. “I didn’t think marriage would have any great allure to him.” He wondered if his son was still foolish enough to think himself in love with Arria. He doubted it.
    “His life is becoming so aimless,” Phoebe said.
    “Not aimless, my love. Self-centered. Indulgent.” Decimus rose, drawing his wife up with him. “He’s like so many of his young aristocratic friends. He considers life a great hunt; every experience prey to be devoured. There is little thought these days of what is good for Rome.”
    They walked out into the peristyle , a large corridor that encircled the courtyard. They strolled along beneath the white marble columns and went out into the garden. It was a warm evening and the stars shone in the clear sky. The pathway meandered among trimmed shrubs and flowering trees. The marble statue of a nude woman stood in the flower bed, her male counterpart on the other side of the walkway. Perfect forms glistening white in the moonlight.
    Decimus’ mind wandered to the day Marcus had shaved for the first time. Together they had taken the whiskers to the temple of Jupiter. Marcus made his offering and became a man. It seemed like yesterday—and a lifetime ago. During the intervening years, Decimus had seen the boy through rhetorics and military training. Yet, somewhere along the way, he had lost control. He had lost his son.
    “I was hoping to convince Marcus that a new order could bring much-needed changes to the Empire,” he said, putting his hand over Phoebe’s as it rested on his arm.
    “Isn’t it a worthy pursuit to want to rebuild Rome?” Phoebe asked gently, putting her other hand over his. He seemed so troubled, and he had not been well lately, though he did not speak of what ailed him. Perhaps it was only concern over Marcus’ future. And Julia’s.
    “Rome needs rebuilding,” Decimus said, but he knew Marcus cared little about the Empire, except as it affected him personally. Marcus had no altruistic reasons for wanting to rebuild Roman houses. His only motivation was to increase Valerian wealth. One cannot rape life without the means to do so, and money was what gave one those means.
    Decimus supposed he was to blame for Marcus’ preoccupation with money. Most of his own life had been spent in building the Valerian fortune through various enterprises. He had begun in Ephesus, part owner of one small ship. Now he made his home in Rome itself, overseer of an entire merchant fleet. His ships traveled all the known seas and returned with cargoes from most every country in