Valeria’s Cross (17 page)

Tossing her arm from his grasp, Galerius ran his fingers through his curls as he spoke. “Octavius was a pigheaded fool. He refused to follow my orders.”

“His death had to do with his faith, did it not? Yet you knew he was a Christian when you asked him to join your legion,” Valeria ventured, her voice trembling.

“But I did not know he was an uncompromising fanatic.”

Valeria was terrified to speak, but she had to know. “Why … would you have my friend’s husband killed? You know how much Eugenia means to me.” Despite her best efforts, a sob escaped before she could continue. “And Father loved Octavius.” As she stared at the man she called her husband, the man who now faced her with such arrogance, she felt her fear giving way to fury. How could he have done such a thing?

Galerius reacted with rage. His hands shook, and his face turned crimson.

“I was right about you all along,” she hissed, her voice gaining strength. “Before we were married, I believed you were a monster.” Sitting up and leaning toward him, she clenched her fists, as all the anger and resentment she had felt over Mauritius’ martyrdom returned with a fury. “How could you?” she demanded, striking his chest. “How could you? And how could I have ever thought I was in love with you? I do not love you at all. I despise you!”

Galerius grabbed her wrists, gripping her tightly, and glared down at her. “I am going to forget this little incident.”

“You are hurting me,” she screamed, not caring who heard her.

Galerius pushed her away, and she fell back upon the bed. “I am going to see my children—alone.” He shot her a look of disgust as he threw on his clothes and then stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.

Valeria stared after him, shock and anger warring for dominance. Then she buried her face in the pillow and screamed and cried until exhaustion got the best of her. Spent, she sat up on the side of the bed, knowing what she had to do.

I must tell Eugenia. As hard as it will be, she must hear this from me … and no one else.

V
aleria swung what felt like legs full of lead over the side of her bed and asked her servant to fetch some warm water. She quickly washed her face and reapplied her makeup before dragging herself down the long hallway to her mother’s room. When a servant answered Valeria’s knock, she stepped inside.

“Octavius is dead,” Valeria announced, restraining tears as she rushed into the topic at hand.

Her mother, resting on a divan, looked up, her eyes widening as realization spread across her face. Putting her book aside, she beckoned Valeria to her. “Are you sure?”

“I heard it from his killer.”

Prisca gasped. “Not Galerius! But why?”

“The blood of another martyr, I am afraid,” Valeria whispered, nearly choking on a sob. “Mother, when will it end? Can Father not do something about these horrible persecutions?”

Prisca grabbed her daughter’s hand and held it between her own. “I am afraid Galerius has been a strong influence on your father. Despite our prayers, persecution is growing, and your father is not doing anything to stop it.”

Valeria shuddered. “How could I have ever thought I was in love with that man? Is there anything we can do?”

“When we return to Thessalonica, I will arrange a conference with the priest. We must dedicate ourselves to prayer and study of the Bible.”

Valeria recognized the look of concern on her mother’s face. “I have heard from a reliable source that Constantius is a believer. Might we speak to him?”

Prisca’s face paled. “Never! A woman never betrays her husband. We would be executed if we spoke to Constantius.”

Valeria’s heart froze within her. Surely this could not be so! “Father would never allow that to happen.”

With the assistance of her ever-present servants, Prisca stood to her feet and pulled her woolen shawl around her shoulders. “Because of our faith in Jesus Christ, I feel that we are at risk. Galerius has convinced your father that if we want to save the empire, all Christians must die.”

Valeria reeled as if she had been slapped. “Why does Father listen to him? Are believers not the best soldiers and servants in the empire? That was certainly the case with Mauritius and his valiant legion.”

Prisca nodded in agreement. “True. But Galerius feels that every time a battle does not go exactly as planned, the Christians are to blame.”

“How can this be? Their integrity is above reproach, and everything they do is done in excellence.”

“Galerius has convinced your father that the gods are angry because the Christians refuse to make sacrifices to them.”

“But that is a lie! It is the exact lie that convinced Father to have Mauritius and his men martyred for their faith. Besides, Galerius married me, knowing that I—”

“Knowing that you would submit to him and keep your faith private,” Prisca interrupted.

Valeria felt as if her heart had imploded. “How different my life would have been if Mauritius had lived.”

Prisca laid her hand against Valeria’s cheek. “We do not know that for certain. Your father may never have consented for you to marry Mauritius.”

“Love always finds a way. Did you not tell me that when I was a young girl?”

Prisca’s smile was bittersweet. “So I did. But God has given you a higher calling. We simply must dedicate ourselves in prayer so that God will change the heart of your husband— and mine. Our faithfulness can literally change the world.”

Valeria sighed. “Before Galerius changes Father’s heart completely, you mean.”

“We cannot change our husbands, but with prayer, God can do so.”

“But we have been praying for a long time,” Valeria protested, turning to walk toward the window. Gazing at the garden, she dared to speak her thoughts aloud. “At times I wonder if God is really there. It often feels that He has abandoned me altogether.”

Prisca stepped up behind her. “Have you forgotten God’s promises so quickly?
I will never leave or forsake you
.”

Valeria turned and smiled, feeling encouragement rise with her mother’s words. “I shall never forget a single promise or scripture from our winter on Elephantine. I wish we were there now. I felt closer to God when we were in Egypt.”

“God is still with us,” Prisca said, her eyes soft with promise. “It is not that He was closer when you were on the Isle of Elephantine, but that you spent more time in the Scriptures and in prayer then. If you want to feel closer to God, you must spend time with Him once again.”

Valeria smiled. “I am glad you will be here with me when Father and Galerius are away. Your discipline in your studies and prayer will be good for me.”

“I can arrange for us to meet with the priest in Thessalonica,” Prisca suggested.

Valeria brightened. “I have a better idea. Since Father has allowed you to live with me while he and Galerius are gone, we can return to Elephantine to study with the Bible scholars. I would especially love to visit Nanu.” Valeria’s distress turned to elation. “She and I could play with our babies together. In her last letter she told me that her baby boy looks more and more like his Uncle Mauritius. With the two of us, having loved and lost men of the Theban Legion at the martyrdom in Gaul, we could bring great comfort to one another.”

Prisca raised her eyebrows. “Have you forgotten that your father is fighting a war in Egypt? It is no longer safe for us there.”

Crestfallen, Valeria sank down on the divan, rocking back and forth. “What shall we do, Mother?”

Joining her daughter on the divan, Prisca embraced Valeria. “There is nothing we can do but pray.”

Valeria pulled away and sighed. “You are right, of course.” But for now, I can no longer put off my duty. I must go and tell Eugenia about Octavius before she hears it from someone else.”

“I shall come with you.”

Valeria smiled. “I appreciate the offer, Mother, but I am no longer a child. I want to do this alone. It is my duty.” She stood to her feet, holding her shoulders back and her head high.

“This is true,” Prisca agreed, looking up at her with obvious pride. “You go ahead and tell Eugenia, and I will join you soon.”

As Valeria made her way down the long hallway, she almost wished she had accepted her mother’s offer to accompany her. Reminding herself of her duty, however, she silently asked God for the appropriate words to say, and she prayed for comfort for Eugenia. Outside her friend’s door, she stopped, her hand trembling as she knocked.

When a young servant girl answered, Valeria stepped inside and found Eugenia standing in front of the window, her eyes fixed on the road outside.

“I see you are feeling better,” Valeria said, watching carefully to see how her friend would respond.

When Eugenia turned at Valeria’s greeting, Valeria’s heart sank at the sight of her friend’s red and swollen eyes.

“Not really. I am watching for Octavius. Is there any news?”

Valeria paused and said, “We need to talk. Please, sit.”

Unmoving, Eugenia hesitated, her gaze still fixed on Valeria. “Octavius is dead. I can see it in your eyes.”

Valeria nodded and reached for Eugenia’s hand. Eugenia’s face clouded over with pain, and she dissolved in sobs.

Valeria pulled her friend into an embrace, but the devastated woman slipped through Valeria’s arms and collapsed onto the floor. Several servants rushed to Eugenia’s aid, as Valeria knelt down beside her, fanning her with her handkerchief. Eugenia moaned but did not open her eyes. Valeria leaned over and whispered, “God will give you the strength to get through this. I do not understand how, but I know we can trust Him.” Then she looked up to the servants and ordered, “Please carry Eugenia to her bed.”

Valeria observed as the servants ministered to Eugenia. One of them brought some smelling salts in a handkerchief, while another brought a basin of water and a stack of muslin cloths.
They washed her face and fanned her, while yet another held the smelling salts under her nose. Before long, Eugenia’s dark eyelashes fluttered open.

Valeria sat on the bed beside her friend and straightened the pillows behind her head. “Welcome back,” she said softly.

Eugenia’s face was emotionless as she asked, “How did Octavius die?”

Valeria swallowed and reached for Eugenia’s hand. “He was … beheaded,” Valeria admitted, surprised that the words were so difficult to say. It was not the horror of the act alone, but also the realization that she still harbored some sense of loyalty to her husband.

Eugenia fixed her eyes on Valeria. “Was it Galerius who ordered his execution?”

Distraught, Valeria could only nod.

“Do you know whose hand performed the hideous act?”

“I do not know whose hand held the sword, but I do know that Octavius died an honorable death … as a martyr.”

“Galerius is a monster,” Eugenia spat. “I loathe him. If I were not a Christian woman, I would cut out his heart and also the heart of the man who killed my husband, and I would feed them both to the buzzards.”

Valeria’s eyes opened wide, as she gazed at her friend in horror.

“I will not, of course,” Eugenia added. “But I cannot help but wish that Galerius and whoever did this terrible thing would one day die horrible deaths themselves.”

“Eugenia, you cannot mean what you say,” Valeria protested. “You must beg God’s forgiveness. If you curse Galerius and the man who killed your husband, something terrible could come to you. Galerius may be a monster, but we … you must allow God to avenge, just as you told me when I made these same threats when Mauritius died.”

“Perhaps I was wrong when I said that to you. I know you understand—better than anyone. My tears are no greater than the tears you cried for Mauritius. Galerius killed the man you loved too.”

Valeria swallowed, willing Eugenia to somehow understand that on some level, she still cared for Galerius, despite the awful sin he had committed. “As much as I loved Mauritius, it is different for you. Octavius was your husband. Now that I am married and understand the bond between a husband and wife, I know your grief cuts far deeper than mine. But I choose to forgive Galerius, and you must too.”

Eugenia still studied her. “You have truly come to care for Galerius, even more than I realized.”

“I admit that I have, to some extent. But I am also furious with him for killing the husband of my dearest friend, and I told him so.” Valeria hung her head. “I am so sorry.”

“I wish him dead,” Eugenia declared. “The most horrible death.”

Valeria cringed, wrestling with the understanding of Eugenia’s pain, yet still feeling protective of Galerius. “Please do not despise him. You must forgive him, Eugenia, just as you told me that I had to forgive Father and Galerius. If Jesus could forgive His enemies after what they did to Him, surely you can forgive Galerius … with God’s help.”

Eugenia broke into tears. “I cannot even think of forgiveness at this moment. I do not know how I am going to survive without Octavius. What am I going to do?” She buried her head in her pillow and cried, “I want to die!”

Valeria put her arm around her friend and held her close while she sobbed. “I understand only too well how you feel,” she soothed. “When Father told me the news of Mauritius’ death, you will recall that I wanted to die too. But thanks to your encouragement, God became my strength and my
refuge in my grief. Although I have never stopped thinking of Mauritius, I have learned to live again, and eventually, so will you. You will get through this, Eugenia. God will help you, and so will I.”

After a moment, Eugenia rolled onto her back and lifted her bleary eyes to Valeria. “There is something you do not know,” she said, her voice cracking from despair. “Something I have not told you.”

Surprised that Eugenia had kept something from her, Valeria asked, “What is it? I thought we had no secrets from one another.”

“Please do not be angry with me,” Eugenia sniffled. “I did not tell you because I knew how much you wanted a child.”

Valeria felt her eyes widen. “You are with child? You should have told me!”

“I did not wish to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Are we not like sisters? Oh, I am so happy for you! You must not die of grief now, for you have Octavius’ child inside you.” Valeria gently placed her hand upon Eugenia’s belly. “What a blessing that you still have a part of your husband living and growing inside of you. Why, I can feel the sweet babe moving.”

Eugenia’s smile was weak and tore at Valeria’s heart, even as her friend put her own hand over Valeria’s. “Now this baby is all I have left of Octavius,” she whispered, her smile fading. “The poor thing will never have a chance to know his father. What a fine man he was.”

“Oh, but he will, for we shall tell him,” Valeria promised, fighting back her own tears.

“Or her. It could be a girl, you know.”

“A girl or a boy, what does it matter? Children are a blessing from the Lord!” Then Valeria grew quiet, as a new thought occurred to her. “Did Octavius know you were with child?”

Eugenia shook her head. “I had not told him. I only suspected I was pregnant a couple of months ago. I had planned to send him the news by messenger, but when the wedding was announced, I thought I would soon see him, so I waited. I wanted to tell him in person.” Eugenia shuddered. “But now he shall never know.”

“Perhaps if you had told him, he would have fought to live,” Valeria mused, immediately regretting her words.

Through her tears, Eugenia’s eyes narrowed. “It would not have mattered. My husband would never have denied his Savior.”

“I know that. But I have heard that many of the Christian soldiers comply with the orders to make sacrifices to the gods by secretly making the sign of the cross during the rituals.”

“Octavius was not a man of compromise.”

“Perhaps if Octavius had known you were with child, he might have cooperated more.”

“Cooperated? How dare you say such a thing? Do you consider making sacrifices to the gods being cooperative? What has happened to your faith, Valeria? You have weakened. Has your evil husband become as much an influence over you as he is over your father? Have you forgotten so soon what precipitated the martyrdom of Mauritius?”