Rule of God (Book Three of the Dominium Dei Trilogy) Read Free

dozens of strangers, many of whom smelled worse than he did, waiting for the first stirrings of the caves before dawn. He then followed a few officious cave men who seemed to know where they were going toward the surface. Like the angels who rolled away the stone at the tomb of Jesus, they opened what appeared to be the underground city’s major gate, and he hurried outside into the vineyards, taking in the fresh and dewy air in great gulps like a man who barely survived suffocation.
    At last the master Vibius arrived on a fine stallion and dismounted while a slave took the horse to the small winery stable. Then other slaves, including big Brutus from the villa, began to open up shop. Another servant put a spread of fish, cheese and eggs on the table under the olive tree, and Athanasius understood this was meant for the workers to come and help themselves as they reported for work and went out into the fields.
    “You, Ben-Deker,” Vibius said, pointing at him.
    Athanasius froze.
    “You may give the blessing.”
    Athanasius began to breathe quickly. His mind raced to remember the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples. Something about blessing God’s name and daily bread. But it was too long. So he simply bowed his head like the others were doing, trying to come up with something. He slyly glanced up to see Vibius staring angrily at him.
    “Heavenly Father, bless this bread we are about to receive, and your servants the Dovilins for sharing their blessings with us who deserve no good thing. Amen.”
    Vibius grunted, and a legionnaire coughed. All heads save Vibius’s were still bowed.
    Had he said something wrong?
    Big Brutus leaned over and whispered, “In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
    Athanasius spoke up and concluded, “In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
    The heads came up with smiles, the hands unclasped, and the food was quickly consumed.
    Athanasius watched everybody get to work, but there was no sign yet this morning of Gabrielle. He saw Vibius walk up the narrow flight of steps to the second-story offices of the winery. He could go up there and ask what to do, but the wine cave was open before him, and now was a perfect opportunity to look inside and act lost if found.
    The wine cave was cool and dry inside, with rows of amphorae lining either side. He loitered by the rows, trying to figure out which labels were bound for Rome. He found a row of six black amphorae with red gladiators, exactly like the ones in the Angel’s Vault, and wondered if these could be the imperial vessels. He crouched down and tried to make heads or tails of the markings. There was the Dovilin insignia, both at the bottom of the amphora and on the cork seal on top. Where were the other markings?
    He finally found them, cleverly hidden in the pattern of the Greek key that circled the neck of the amphora. These amphorae were marked for Ostia and then Rome’s city port on the Tiber and finally the Palace of the Flavians, marked with the Seal of Caesar.
    All he had to do now was find a counterpart amphora in the Angel’s Vault, an unsealed amphora where he could poison the resin around the cork stoppage and then cap and substitute it for one of these.
    “What are you doing?”
    Athanasius stood up to see Gabrielle standing before him. He glanced beyond her at the back of the cave and the tunnel from which she had emerged. “I hear Caesar in Rome has a private tunnel like you between the Coliseum and the palace. We should all be so lucky.”
    “We all work hard here,” she said. “Biblical principles, you know. There is no slave or free here. No male or female. No Jew or Gentile. We are all equal before Christ.”
    “I think the Dovilins believe some Christians are more equal than others.”
    “And you, Samuel. You seem to be avoiding work in the field this morning.”
    “I told you, Gabrielle, I work with amphorae like these to improve the taste and preservation of wine. This is where I belong. I’m no ordinary field laborer.”
    She took