I stared at the seal upon my signet ring. “Patrick is a free man. And I have prepared the document to free your daughter.” Opening a leather folder, I displayed two documents. The first declared Adriana’s freedom. The second was the contract of marriage pledging Adrianna to Patrick. “Here. A ketubah.”
Delilah started to weep softly. “Oh, my baby girl. In a land of human sacrifice and demon practices!”
Samson patted her gently. “There, there, my dove. My angel. The Lord must surely go with her. Surely there are Jews in Britannia! Surely a synagogue among the pagan temples.”
The woman wept, drawing Martha to the door to gaze at our little gathering in sorrow.
Delilah cried, “But, sir, what shall I do? Oh, what shall I do without my baby girl near me?”
I could say no more. I had given my vow to Patrick in exchange for his efforts to save Faithful Vineyard. “I am at a loss how I can help. I gave my promise. If Patrick wishes to return to the far north … he will do what he will do. And there is nothing I can do to change what is.”
From the shadows, Martha cleared her throat. “Brother!” she declared. “There must be a way.” She stepped into the pool of light and set her hands on her broad hips in her determined way.
Delilah’s eyes shone with tears. Samson stared at her in surprise.
“Martha,” I greeted her.
She motioned for Samson and Delilah to leave us. “Shalom. There is work to do, Delilah. Supper to cook. Company coming. I will speak with my brother.”
The couple shuffled out of my chamber. Martha closed the door and whirled to face me. “Brother! What have you done?” I defended, “He asked me, and I—”
“He asked you!”
“To save the vines.”
“To save the vines, you sacrifice the wine? You are purest fool. Oh, you heartless creature! What have you done to sweet Delilah? And have you asked Adrianna if she wishes to be the wife of a pagan, one-legged barrelmaker from Britannia?”
She had me there. I had not thought to ask anyone. The girl was property, and I had the right to do as I wished. Freedom seemed a great gift. “My intentions were good. For the best, sister.”
“Ha!” She snorted, pivoted on her heel, and made for the door. “Come up with something fast, or you’ll have mutiny in the ranks.”
I had celebrated the end of a plague of locusts, yet now my house was a house of mourning.
At supper that night, Joseph of Arimathea the elder and Gamaliel, a great Torah scholar descended from a family of honorable Levites, sat at my table and feasted on lamb with mushrooms and wine sauce as we sipped the finest vintage yet created on my estate. Lamb, courtesy of Delilah and Adrianna. Wine, created by Samson, cured in barrels made by Patrick.
We had saved the vines, but now everything good and familiar seemed about to dissolve around me. I sucked the wine sauce from my lamb chop with a heavy heart.
Gamaliel commented, “Herod Antipas believes that Jesus of Nazareth is John the Baptizer raised from the dead.”
Joseph concurred. “The locusts fully destroyed the tet-rarch’s vines. He is casting around for who he can blame. Jesus is a sorcerer, some say. Did he cast a spell on the vines? Antipas, like his father, is driven by fear: fear of his Roman masters, of Pilate, of Caesar. Fear of what the people will do. Rebellion? Fear of his wife, Herodias. And now, after severing the head of a prophet at the demand of this woman, he fears that John the Baptizer is again alive and may do to him what Antipas himself has done to others.”
Delilah, eyes red with weeping, entered and cleaned away the main course. My guests pretended they did not notice her. As was proper, they complimented her as if she were not in the room. I tried very hard not to glance at her.
“Most excellent meal,” Gamaliel said to me. “I heard the Roman tribune mention the quality of your wines and the reputation of your cooks. A mother and daughter, is it?”
Delilah sniffed and wiped a tear with the back of her hand.
Joseph agreed within Delilah’s hearing. “Any household in all the empire would envy such a cook as this. You must never let the Gentiles suspect the skill of such a cook. They will steal her away to some far corner of the world.”
I replied. “Yes. A gift from God, she is. She