Free Man of God by Debra Diaz Page A

will.”
     
     
     
    CHAPTER VI
     
    “No,” Alysia said hesitantly, “I don’t think
we should leave Rome. I have not felt God calling us to another
place.”
    “Nor have I,” Paulus answered, much
relieved.
    “And yet, what if it is God’s way of warning
us?”
    “To be careful, perhaps, but not to leave. We
will pray about it.”
    Alysia walked slowly around the center of the
ruin, cast now into deep evening shade. Insects whirred a grating
song, and a balmy breeze stirred the vines and bushes. Paulus
reclined within one of the grooves, his back against the side, legs
stretched out and arms crossed.
    “Do you still have that canvas bag packed
with clothes and money, buried under the stone?”
    “Yes, Paulus, and I pray we’ll never have to
use it.”
    “But it’s there, and if they ever come to the
house, you and Rachel are to head out here and beyond…you do
remember what I told you? If you bear right you’ll be heading for
the Appian Way—that will be the easiest way to get out of the
city.”
    “Yes, I remember. You look tired,” she
observed, pausing to sit next to him, against his legs, and placing
her hands on his arms.
    He didn’t answer, but reached out to touch
her face. Then his hand moved to her hair and the back of her head,
and he pulled her close and kissed her.
    “We must get back,” she whispered. “I don’t
like to leave Rachel alone, and her friends would have left by
now.”
    But she waited, crawling up beside him and
laying her head on his chest.
    “Temptress,” he said, with mock severity.
“You would assail a man in his weakest moment, and ask him in that
same moment to leave.”
    When she didn’t answer he placed his hand
gently on her forehead and made her look up at him. Even in the
fading light he could see her tears.
    “Alysia.” He turned his body and sat up
straight, holding her against him. “Things are not much different
than before. I don’t want you to be afraid.”
    “I’m sorry, Paulus. It’s not that I’m
afraid—I only wish, sometimes, that we could live a normal
life.”
    “And what is a normal life?” he answered
quietly. “There are always things to worry about. We’re supposed to
give our worries up to God.”
    “Yes. I know.”
    He asked, after a moment, “Tell me…what do
you want to do?”
    Alysia took a deep breath. “Why, sir, the
same thing I told you those many years ago…to go with you to tell
the world of Jesus Christ. No matter what the cost.”
    His arm tightened around her and unexpectedly
he felt the sting of tears in his own eyes. “I don’t deserve such a
wife.”
    “I am but your slave, my lord,” she said
teasingly, striving for lightness. They were words she’d once
thrown defiantly in his face.
    Paulus stood up, causing her to stand with
him. He said as lightly, “Then let us go, temptress, before—tired
or not—I decide to have my way with you!”
    * * *
    A service of worship was held in different
homes on the first day of each week, but “teaching meetings” were
held on other days at Paulus and Alysia’s house. Since their house
didn’t have a courtyard, Alysia set out plenty of cushions in the
wide hallway, and Paulus brought every bench that could be found to
line the walls. All the lamps were lit, their flames fluttering in
the slight breeze that swept through, from end to end.
    Alysia enjoyed these meetings; she loved to
hear Paulus speak on those things he had learned from Stephen and
others, those men who had been closest to Jesus. And he was always
studying the Scriptures, sometimes alone, sometimes with her; every
night he read from some portion of it to herself and Rachel. They
immersed themselves in it, and she was always astonished at how
much they learned…how much there was still to learn. The flow of
knowledge and wisdom that came from the ancient writings seemed
never-ending.
    People began to arrive, happy and expectant;
the children were eager to recite what they had memorized.
Horatius,