Cedar and Vine

A glorious summer evening in Rome, in the year 64, shone golden over the villa of Linus Galeo.  Two people, a man and a woman, were quietly walking up the wide flagstone path towards the pillared piazza.

The man was in full military dress, evidently a high-ranking officer in the Roman Army.  He was dark-haired and keen-eyed; his skin was deeply tanned from many military campaigns and the muscles of his tall frame were subtly sculpted.  He was shaved, typical of a Roman, thus permitting the woman beside him to clearly see the strength and manliness of his face.

She wore a beauty different from his.  Golden hair, like rich honey, fell around her delicate head and culminated in a knot at her neck, over all of which draped a sheer veil.  Her skin was light, almost pale, except for the rose of health that glowed in her cheek and in the sun-kissed tones of her arms.  Next to the soldier, she stood quite tall, a few inches below his height.

Their manner bespoke reserve for each other, maybe even some uneasiness.  The officer opened the great door and allowed the young woman to pass in before him.  She gazed around for a few moments at the bright and airy interior.  Then the silence was finally broken when she spoke.

“Your home is lovely, a true haven of light and quietness, master.”  Her voice had a soft smoothness very refreshing to his ears.

“I hope you will be happy.  But Elizabeta,” the soldier paused, coming towards her with slow stride, “please do not call me master.  I am your husband.  You are my wife.  Give me my name.  Linus.”

She studied his face a bit shyly, her eyes innocent.  “Linus.”

Along with other women taken captive during Roman forays, Elizabeta had been presented to a group of statesmen and officers at a banquet for Nero.  There, Commander Linus Galeo had chosen her as his bride.  This was not unusual.  What was unusual was the chivalry that accompanied every look, word, and action of the Roman officer.  He did not view her as a slave or an object of his lust.  This ran contrary to everything she knew about the Romans.  Nearly a year ago her village in Germania had been torched and many of her people, including herself, taken prisoner for the service of Rome.

Now she was wedded to one of Rome’s military commanders, and he did not fit the picture of the conqueror and tyrant.  As she covertly took in his features and the noble bearing of his head and body, she wondered if there were good Romans as there were good Germanics.  He was so very handsome, bronzed and virile, and she wanted very much to be with him.

“You are not like your comrades,” she dared to observe.  “You are gallant, even…thoughtful.”

A quiet smile softened the firmness of Linus’ mouth.  “I would do well to give honor to a woman.  It is the command of God.”

“God? Which god?” Elizabeta asked in interest.

Linus hesitated, throwing a quick look towards the door, then around the room.  The house was silent; no one else was there, since he had dismissed his servants for the night.  Then he turned to her.  “I must tell you something, Elizabeta.  Something that is dangerous.  But we are man and wife and all things close to my heart must be close to yours.  I must trust you.”

She waited in great anticipation, her inexperience causing her heart to open to him.

“I am a Christ-follower.  That is, I do not serve the gods of the Pantheon.  I worship Jesus, who is the one true God.”

“Christ,” Elizabeta repeated the name.  “I have heard this title.  But…are not those who follow this Christ greatly hated?”

“Yes.”

“I heard things in the palace and in the streets.”  She lifted her eyes to him again.  “Are you…in danger?”

“If it was discovered that I am a Christian, yes, I would be arrested, perhaps tortured, and executed.  Nero forbids worship of anyone or anything but him and the deities of Rome.”

A slight gasp broke from Elizabeta’s lips.  “Why does he hate this…Christ and His followers?”

“Because it is a faith borne of love,” Linus answered simply.  “True love.  The Romans do not understand true love.  When God gave His only Son, Jesus, to die for the sins of mankind, He showed love as it had never been shown before.  Now we who have given ourselves to Him strive to love others in the same way, and we are hated and misunderstood because of it.”

Elizabeta meandered towards a little marble fountain in the center of the room and absently dipped her fingers in the water.  “Then that is what caused you to marry me,” she said inquiringly.

He took a breath, his brow furrowing.  “That was a great part of it,” he assented.

Turning back to him, she said softly, “I will never betray you.  If it is dangerous as you say, you have nothing to fear from me.”

“Thank you.  I do not ask for your silence from fear, though I do sometimes shudder at the thought of torture.  It is simply unwise to proclaim my faith from the housetops when no good can come from it.”

“I understand,” Elizabeta agreed.  “Linus…will you tell me more of Christ? The crumbs of information I have gathered intrigue me.  There is something to it and I want to understand it.”

“Gladly,” he promised with a warmer light in his eyes.

Thus settled, the matter could be put aside for the moment.  Elizabeta continued to stroll about, her eyes resting on each lovely ornament and furnishing of the lavish villa.

Linus watched her, feeling his heart open more to her.  In her natural beauty and almost girlish innocence, she allured him strongly.  And he felt the stirrings of passion simmering within him.  Yet she was a Germanic in Rome, intended to be a slave and only through his choice a lady and a wife.  His newly-burgeoning love would be poorly proved by trying to take her physically at this juncture.

“If you will come with me, I will show you to your apartment,” he proposed.

She gazed at him in puzzlement.  Her understanding of marriage and the wedding night were traditional.  “My…apartment? Is it not…the custom of Roman husbands and wives to occupy one room and one bed on the night of their marriage?” She caught the blink of his eyes, as well as the quick flex of his neck muscles as he swallowed.  Another thought came to her.  “Or…is it that…you are not pleased with me? I am not beautiful to you?”

Linus came up to her.  “You are very beautiful, Elizabeta,” he said, his voice lower, deeper.  “Indeed, you are so lovely that I…I fear I may not control myself.”  He bit his lip, his eye racing over her slender, white-swathed form.  “That is why I give you your own room.  We are strangers, and I would not force myself on you when you are just becoming accustomed to this new life.”

Now Elizabeta smiled gently.  Reaching out, she touched his face.  “From our childhood we are taught of the sacred glory that comes when man and woman are joined together.  It is something we long for, what maidens dream of until they are wed.  Linus Galeo, I sense that you are a kind man and I am not afraid.  Must I wait?”

The awakening on Linus’ face lifted her heart.  His hand wandered until it met and covered hers; then he drew it to his mouth and kissed the palm tenderly.

“Is it truly your wish, beloved?” he asked, nearly in a whisper.

“Yes,” she answered.

“There is one thing more: I must confess something.”  Linus paused, his head bent in some shame.  “Before I gave my life to the Lord Jesus, I was a part of this carnal city.  Nothing was sacred to me as God has designated.  I…knew many women, used them, and allowed them to use me.  God has forgiven me that impurity, but I regret it still, because now I cannot offer you my whole heart and body.  Will you…forgive me this, Elizabeta?” and the earnest plea in Linus’ eyes, gazing into hers, moved her from the depths of her spirit.  His words also troubled her and she dropped her head.

“Forgiveness I give freely, only…I fear I have been in the transgression too,” she faltered.  “So many young men and maidens find it hard to wait until the wedding night.  And I…I was one of them.  It seemed the course of nature, expected, and so common that no one deems it wrong.”

“I did not either, nor do most of the population of Rome,” Linus put in.  “But when I understood that it is meant to be a glorious oneness of man and wife, a gift from God for the pleasure of humankind in the bond of marriage, my view changed.  It is so very precious that I never again indulged.  Instead I have waited for the woman who would be my wife.”

“Then you are not angry that I am not a virgin?” she asked timidly, hopefully, raising her eyes and finding her lips very close to his.

“No, for I am the same.  Yet God will forgive the repentant heart, as He forgave me,” he whispered.

“I will ask Him.  And I ask you,” she whispered back.

“I forgive.  Now I will…I will show you,” and his voice grew a little tremulous.  Lightly, with the ease of a child lifting a doll, he raised her in his muscular arms and aimed for a corridor lit by torches.  Then up a flight of shallow stairs and into a chamber of sensual delights he carried her.  Two walls were windows overlooking the Tiber and inviting in the sunset glow and twitter of evening birds.  Candlelight and torches burned everywhere.  A sweet flowery fragrance filled the room, perhaps offered by the blossoming vines trailing the balcony and poking into the casements.  There was a bed, wide, low, decked in silk and half-hidden by a sheer curtain.  Onto this Linus gently lowered his bride, never taking his eyes from hers.

“Love me, my husband, or else I shall go mad,” she implored, her hands locked behind his neck.

Her words spurred him to meet her lips with his.  For the first time, they kissed.  It was wonderful and fiery.  With forceful tenderness he prodded his tongue into her mouth, seeking to taste her as deeply and intimately as he could.  And she welcomed it.

It had been over three years since he had made love to a woman and he was almost crazed with the need.  This time, though, there was no guilt or uneasiness.  He was free.

Elizabeta, too, had not been with a man for some time.  The events of the past months had not exactly made such activities possible, nor had she come in contact with anyone that aroused her interest.  Until tonight.  Certainly the circumstances were strange and could have been very distressing, but it had turned into something beautiful.  Maybe the God whom Linus served really did love those who followed Him and gave them good gifts.  Elizabeta determined to give her all to this man whose strength and goodness and fascinating morality drew her to him with a power she’d never known.

With deliberation, he began to remove the heavier elements of his uniform, then strip off his tunic and loin covering.  Elizabeta waited, watching him with admiration in her eyes.  He was the picture of hardened, rugged manhood, browned and lightly covered in hair, every muscle pronounced, every point of his body something worth appreciating.  She couldn’t help but let her eyes fall to his uncovered rod, half-nestled in thick dark hair and beginning to erect itself.

Then he approached her, touching her lips with his fingertips before his hands fell to her shoulders.  Deftly he pushed her gown so it slipped down her arms.  She rose, wanting to be close to him.  As he drew her clothes off, she rested her palms on his chest.  His breath mingled with hers as their faces drew close sensually and her eyes kept catching his.  Once she was nude, she stepped forward to imprint herself against him.  The warmth of her body made him weak and he strove to connect himself to her more fully.  His thighs pressed into hers and he clasped her tightly so their bellies and loins could join.  Looking down, he noted how her lovely breasts flattened against his chest.

She had lost her demureness, as was revealed when she kissed his lips hungrily.  He laid her on the bed, continuing to claim her mouth over and over while his hands explored her body tenderly.  She caressed his hard upper arms, then his back, delighting in the rippling strength of his sinews.  A groan rumbled low in his throat when she stroked his firm buttocks with her tantalizing fingers.

“My bride, shall we make love now?” he asked huskily, lifting his head enough to peer into her eyes.

“Yes, oh yes.  I am ready for you, Linus.  Touch me,” and she guided his hand towards her hidden treasure.

It was already flowing with the nectar of desire, to Linus’ drunken delight.  Gently, he aligned his stiff manhood with her opening, all while gazing into her face with smoldering eyes.  Her own eyes were dark and sensual, urging him on.  In a moment, he had pressed into her and settled into her wet heat.  The breath was torn from her body at that first great invasion, then, as she relaxed, she thrilled at the feeling of his powerful virility inside her and pulled him in more, trying to make his body one with hers.  He, too, could only lie there at first, stupefied at the realization that he was consummating his marriage to a woman as lovely as Elizabeta.  She touched his face, smoothing her palm down his weathered cheek and firm lips.

“Take me, Linus,” she whispered.

He gasped, terribly aroused by her words, and obeyed.  The movements began slowly, hesitantly, as he relearned how to move his hips and bring her pleasure.  She welcomed his thrusts by folding her legs around his buttocks and clinging to his arms, little sounds of enjoyment breaking from her lips.

If any of the carnal Romans of the day could have observed this lovemaking, they might have thought it commonplace.  After all, such scenes were enacted throughout the empire, whether in palace or peasant’s hut.  Those married and those not both participated in the act, reducing it to something self-centered and shallow.  Not so in the house of Linus Galeo.  As husband and wife entered into the most sacred of human relationships, they felt the presence of God cover their union.  This was more than copulation.  It was the fusing of two souls as well as bodies, beautified for eternity because of its holy encasement of marriage.

Elizabeta couldn’t hold back the near screams of satiation that Linus’ hard body was wringing out of her.  He filled her sensitive channel as no man had before and teased it with silken friction.  Only by staring hungrily into his eyes and urging him on with her own rocking hips could she convey her delight in him. The Roman officer wished he need never rise from this bed nor leave the depths of this glorious woman.  The world around him faded; he forgot that he had ever fought in battles or saluted Nero.  Only Elizabeta and her intoxicating sweetness existed for him.

Intwined with this bodily pleasure was the joy in his spirit, that she might soon join him on his heaven-bound path.  Then they would truly be one.  For now, he had the great hope that she was close to the kingdom of God.  She would need that salvation and power should Nero’s persecution find them.  Many believers already suffered, and it was rumored more would come.  The strength of her heritage glowed in her face and voice; Linus sensed that she could endure so much.  Had she not borne kidnapping, slavery, and a forced march into an unknown land? The thought of brutish soldiers leering at her or putting their hands on her filled him with a protective rage.  It quickened his thrusts.  Elizabeta gasped as he took her more intensely.  Within her body, he moved like a great cedar, long and lithe and thickly endowed.

“My God…oh my love…Linus…Linus!” she whimpered, her nails cutting into his sun-browned back.

He relished the pain.  It made the experience more real.  The heat of her wet garden swallowing his manhood and her clenching hands were all he could feel.  Her convulsing face and swaying breasts were all he could see.  She was so tender and soft and sweet to his senses, like a vine with pure flowers.  Nothing compared to this.  Nothing.  Those sinful trysts of former years vanished like unimportant side notes.  Oneness with his wife, this token of the Lord’s favor, surpassed everything his body had ever enjoyed.

They were too crazed for each other to keep a great climax at bay.  When it came, it engulfed them in a shaking, shuddering, explosive tangle of flesh and cries and wetness.  For a few dreamlike seconds, man and woman were caught up in realm of bliss only known to those who have founded their love on the love of Christ.  Their hearts burned together and their voices panted.  Then, they slowly fell back to earth, to clarity of mind and vision, and to an unbelievably restful, satisfied peace.

Linus tenderly cared for Elizabeta, realizing that such vehement lovemaking may have tried her inner muscles.  He cleaned her and himself, his hands gentle.  She watched him move with adoring gratitude.  His kindness had touched her so much.  She was eager to live with him, to see where his life would lead.

He wrapped her in his arms to sleep.  They drowsily watched the sun dip down behind the horizon, throwing gold over the river.  The glories of Rome paled in comparison to the beauty of God’s creation.  Both the oncoming twilight and their evening passion had brought more joy than rank or riches.  For tonight, thanks to God, they had experienced a taste of true heaven.  To herself, Elizabeta smiled as she nestled against her husband’s haired chest.  Only a God of goodness and grace could have led her through such hardship into the arms of a man like Linus.  She would gladly pursue this God with all of her heart.