Free I, Saul by Jerry B. Jenkins Page A

the phone. When I got to ‘I regret to inform you …’ he told me to just throw it away.
    â€œI was disappointed for him, August, but I was also relieved he asked me to stop reading, because the letter went on to say that since he hadapplied so many times, the dean at Dallas felt it only fair to tell him the whole truth. They had planted a student in one of his classes for three weeks, and he had evaluated your father’s teaching.”
    â€œOh, no. I’d love to see that.”
    â€œI kept it hidden among my things. Your father must never see it.”
    â€œYour things? What else is there?”
    â€œSoon you’ll know,” she said. “I need to be back in there with him.”
    Augie slipped into an empty waiting room and called Sofia.

8
Timothy

FIRST-CENTURY ROME

    For three weeks after the citywide fire had finally been extinguished, Luke invested himself heavily in helping the injured and dying. Primus Paternius Panthera’s mother had rallied to where he believed she would enjoy several more healthy years. A grateful Panthera assured Luke he could use the guest room for as long as he needed.
    â€œWill you remain in Rome after, ah, your friend’s demise?”
    Luke didn’t want to tell the guard that he had grown disillusioned by the Roman church and those who had abandoned Paul in fear of the emperor. Nero’s evils acts against Christians were known throughout the city. Yet hadn’t God called the followers of Christ to contend for the gospel, even to the point of death if necessary?
    Luke told Panthera only that he did not know yet what he would do. “More than likely I will return to serve in Ephesus or some other citywhere the church remains strong. For now I feel God has called me to Rome. I want to pour myself out as an offering, the way Paul refers to his own death. Oh, for a faith like Paul’s!”
    The guard looked embarrassed, and Luke wondered if he had said too much. But Primus said, “I am impressed with Paul. Such courage in the face of his sentence.”
    â€œWhat of his message?” Luke said. “Surely by now you know it by heart.”
    Primus looked away, which told Luke that he—like all the guards in Paul’s proximity—had heard Paul urgently preach from the end of a chain in the black pit. “I was raised to revere the gods,” he said.
    â€œYou know Paul worships the one true God.”
    Primus nodded. “He makes that clear, and there is no question he believes it. That alone makes him admirable.”
    â€œBut not believable?”
    Primus studied the ceiling.
    â€œPanthera,” Luke whispered urgently, “these gods, do they love you? Forgive you? Would they die for you?”
    Primus shifted his weight. “They’re supposed to have created the world and now superintend the affairs of men.”
    â€œTell me, friend, do these gods actually exist? Are they real beings?”
    â€œHow can we know? I believe they are real if one believes in them.”
    Luke cocked his head, brows raised. “By that reasoning, if one does not believe in them, do they then not exist?”
    Primus sighed and shrugged. “You are too clever for me, Doctor. Leave me to my beliefs.”
    â€œAh, I care too much for you for that,” Luke said, but Primus’ look told him the conversation was over.
    After his visit to the prison that night, Luke stopped at an inn for acup of wine on his way back to Panthera’s. The proprietor, who knew him from his work with the fire victims, said, “A man came asking after you today. I told him I didn’t know where you were lodging.”
    â€œDark-eyed, trim, about fifty?”
    â€œThat was the man. Carrying a large satchel. Looked weary from travel. I suggested Flavia’s.”
    â€œOh, sir!”
    The innkeeper shrugged. “There are not many other places.”
    Flavia Sabina was the widow of a senator who had left her