Devil's Island by John Hagee Read Free Book Online

futile. And no one except the emperor had the authority to overrule Damian’s orders. Abraham’s carefully cultivated contacts with the influential powers of Ephesus were now useless, and he smiled ruefully at the irony: the richest man in Asia had no one to offer the fruits of his fortune in return for a political favor.
    Darkness fell as Abraham maintained his solitary watch. When he could no longer see into the distant sea, he knew it was time to end his vigil. The family would have already had their dinner without him, and Elizabeth would be worried.
    He had turned toward the warehouse to remove one of the torches for his walk home when he heard heavy footsteps on the pier. Abraham froze. Only one type of shoe made such a ponderous sound: the hobnailed boot of a soldier.
    There were five of them marching swiftly toward him, all wearing segmented leather armor that hung in cumbersome pleats over their knee-length red tunics. One of them wore the plumed helmet of a centurion.
    â€œAbraham of Ephesus,” the centurion announced officiously, “you are commanded to appear before Captain Lucius Mallus Damianus to answer charges for the crime of treason.”
    Elizabeth was frantic. She alternated between pacing and kneeling on the cold marble floor. Over the last three weeks she had spent so much time in prayer, she had worn her knees raw. Tonight she couldn’t manage to concentrate long enough to pray for more than a minute or two, so she quickly resumed pacing. When that seemed futile, she knelt to pray again.
    She had been worried when Abraham did not come home for dinner. It was so unlike him—he never stayed at the harbor after dark without sending a message. When several hours had passed, she knew something was terribly wrong, and now she was plain frightened.
    â€œNo word from Father yet?” Rebecca asked, yawning as she entered the triclinium .
    Elizabeth shook her head.
    The remains of dinner were still on the table, waiting for Abraham. Rebecca poured wine from a beautiful silver pitcher— Galen’s handiwork—into a cup and handed it to her mother. “Drink some of this. Perhaps you can relax enough to sleep. According to Father’s water clock, it’s almost midnight.”
    Elizabeth took one sip of the wine and immediately started pacing again. Nothing would ease her mind enough to sleep, she thought. Only Abraham’s return.
    Rebecca walked over to the brazier and stoked the few embers still burning. “It’s too chilly in here. I’ll ask Servius to—”
    â€œHe’s not here,” Elizabeth said. “I sent him to the harbor to look for your father.”
    â€œThen I’ll get one of the other servants to tend the fire. You’re shivering.”
    â€œNo, don’t wake them. Just fetch my cloak.”
    Elizabeth circled the room restlessly as Rebecca ran upstairs and quickly returned with the cloak. She draped it around her mother’s shoulders and then hugged her tightly.
    â€œI’m scared,” Rebecca confessed. “Do you suppose something horrible has happened to Father?”
    Elizabeth held her daughter and stroked her hair. She longed to comfort Rebecca, to tell her that everything would be all right, but that would be a lie. Everything was not all right, and it might never be right again.
    They both jumped when they heard the massive front door open, and they ran toward the atrium. Servius must be back, Elizabeth thought. And perhaps Abraham is with him.
    Servius was alone. “I couldn’t find him, ma’am.” He picked up a clay lamp and shepherded the women out of the frigid open-air center of the atrium into the main part of the house.
    â€œServius, please—” Elizabeth implored as they entered the fading warmth of the dining room.
    The old man held up a hand and motioned her silent. “Give me a moment to catch my breath and I’ll tell you all about it.” Had it been