“He was actually willing to fight against his own people?” Decimus interrupted incredulously.
“At that time, peace had been made with Britannia. Claudius made treaties with some of the tribes, and my father was a wise man. He understood the way the winds were blowing, and he knew there would be no stopping the Roman war machine. By serving Rome, my father was planning for the future. But he never forgot Britannia, and he never let me forget it either.”
Decimus nodded in understanding. “So when your father retired, he was granted automatic citizenship, and then when you were born, you were considered a Roman citizen by birth.”
Galla nodded. “Correct. And since I have the privilege of being a Roman citizen, I have learned much about Rome.”
“You’re spying for Britannia?”
Sighing, Galla pressed his lips together. “No, I’m not. My father served Rome faithfully, as have I. But since Claudius’s murder by his own wife, Rome has become barbarous, wanton in its destruction. Rome is no longer the democracy it was intended to be. It has become vile and depraved. It’s time for me to go home. Rome is on its last leg, and the people of Britannia have a chance of regaining what was once lost. I want to help. I also wish to tell them about my Lord, Jesus Christ,” he finished quietly. “I have some leave time coming to me, and I wish to visit the home of my father and grandfather.”
Decimus couldn’t fault the man’s logic. He watched him closely, and he liked what he saw. His allegiance was to God, not to Rome. Not even to Britannia. There was strength of purpose in Galla’s face. Here was a man of integrity.
“So, what do you say, my friend?” Antipus inquired. “Are you ready to leave Rome? Are you ready, like Galla, to go west and north—and spread God’s Word?”
Decimus took his time answering. His look passed from one man to the other. Finally he nodded his head. “I’m ready!”
“Praise God!”
Three pairs of startled male eyes turned toward the doorway. Chara stood silhouetted within its frame, her hands clutched together in front of her. Her changed appearance was remarkable. A clean white tunic softened her emaciated frame, and her golden hair shone brightly with the reflected light of the now lit torches.
Galla’s eyebrows winged upward as his eyes traveled over the young girl standing before him. He turned to Antipus for some answers, but Decimus was already moving forward. He stopped in front of Chara, his eyes full of questions.
Chara’s luminous brown eyes returned his look, her face animated with joy. “You know my Lord Jesus!”
Decimus frowned. “What?”
“I heard you just now.” She smiled radiantly at Galla. “You know Him, too.”
Decimus glanced at Antipus, then at Galla, his look returning to Chara. “You’re a Christian?”
Her smile transformed her plain features. “Yes! Oh, praise God that you are one, too. I knew when I saw you in the crowd that there was something different about you.” Realizing what she had just said, color flooded Chara’s cheeks. Quickly she dropped her eyes to the floor.
Galla looked at Decimus, his lips quirking with humor.
“She’s the girl I was telling you about,” Decimus told him, his own face coloring with embarrassment.
“The slave?”
Grinding his teeth together in exasperation, Decimus glared at each man in turn. “She’s not a slave!” Noting their dubious expressions, he amended his statement. “Well, at least not for long.”
Galla was studying Chara, a strange expression on his face. Decimus felt heat run through his body, while at the same time he felt an icy thrill in his midsection. Was this Roman truly a friend? Could he really be trusted? A moment ago he had thought so, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Antipus felt the tension emanating from the young Briton and immediately tried to soothe the troubled waters. “Come in, child. Have a seat.”
Chara looked to Decimus for permission. Nodding his head, he watched as Chara crossed the room with a rather stiff gait. Remembering the sores on her feet, Decimus followed her and knelt before her. Gently he lifted one foot and then the other, placing them carefully back on the floor.
“The sores don’t seem as bad since they’ve been washed.”
Chara murmured her agreement, trying to restore her breathing to normal. The touch of Decimus’s hands, so gentle yet so firm, had sent pleasurable tingles running up her legs.
Galla crossed to the couch, taking a seat beside Chara. His encompassing look wandered from head to toe. “So, little sister. How do you come to be in such a position?”
“It’s a long story, my lord.”
Taking one of her hands, Galla smiled charmingly at her, his soft brown eyes inviting her confidence. “If you are indeed a sister, then surely you know that no man has the right to be called Lord, save one.”
She smiled into his eyes, feeling for the first time in a long while the freedom to do so. “I’m afraid I have been conditioned to speak so.”
“And rather well, I might add,” Decimus grunted, somewhat bothered by the exchange. His look wandered over the soldier, and Decimus realized that Galla was not much older than himself. Until now, the thought hadn’t occurred to him that the Roman was a mighty handsome specimen, even with that scar running down his cheek. His bronze skin spoke of his health, and his dark, curling hair added to his lean good looks.
Chara told them her story, leaving nothing out. Decimus felt rage begin to bubble inside him. How could any man do that to his own sister, even if she was only a stepsister? If Decimus could have reached the man at that point, he would have gladly flogged him within an inch of his life. He was struggling with shame at such unchristian thoughts when Chara spoke again.
“I hold him no ill will. I can see God’s hand in all of this. I was too afraid to leave, even though I knew I wasn’t wanted. With Franco, my fear made me more a slave than when I was with Tarus. This way I was forced to leave.” She smiled at Decimus. “Now I understand why God has led me here.”
Decimus turned away, unwilling that any should see his embarrassment. He was bothered that the girl seemed to have fixated upon him as her personal deliverer.
“Still,” Galla spoke gruffly, his hands clenched into fists on his lap, “I would be hard pressed not to hold a grudge.”
Antipus thought it time to intervene. Already darkness had descended, and they still had resolved nothing. He addressed Chara. “My dear, we have a plan for getting Decimus out of the city, and Galla, as well. I can see now that I must include you, too.”
Suddenly fearful, Chara stared wide-eyed from one to the other. She had the strangest desire to take Decimus’s hand and cling to it. Flustered at her unusual reaction, she dropped her lashes over her telling eyes.
“Do you know what is happening to Christians here in Rome?” Antipus asked her gently.
She shook her head solemnly. “I’m afraid that until a few months ago I was rather isolated and protected.”
The old man sighed. “Well, I won’t regale you with all the gruesome details. Let’s just say that Rome has become a very unhealthy place for Christians. Especially since almost a third of the city burned, and many people place the blame on the Christians.”
For the next several hours, they discussed the details of getting the three out of Rome. Galla would have had no problem on his own, but the others would surely be suspect. As slaves, however, perhaps they would not be bothered.
When they finally agreed on a plan, Antipus rose from his seat. “It’s almost midnight. I have had my servants prepare rooms for all of you for the night. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish. Please make yourselves at home. If you need anything, just call one of the servants.”
Galla rose with him. “I thank you for the hospitality, but I’m afraid I must decline. I am expected at the garrison.” He turned to Decimus. “I’ll leave you to make arrangements about clothing for the girl and yourself. Remember, by the time we reach Britannia, cold weather will be setting in.”
Decimus nodded. “I’ll see to it.”
Antipus followed Galla out the door, leaving Decimus and Chara alone. Decimus picked up a marble statue of a horse and began to twirl it nervously in his fingers. Finally he cleared his throat.
“We have assumed that you wish to go with us to Britannia, but if this is not so, you have only to say.”
“You forget that despite what you say, I am still a slave,” she answered quietly.
Placing the statue back on the table, Decimus frowned. “Just for the moment.” He stopped, remembering the plans they had just discussed. He was bothered more than a little bit by the fact that Chara would be considered the property of the Roman. That troubled him more than the fact that he would be considered so, also.
Chara looked down at the floor, allowing her hair to fall forward over her cheeks. She said nothing for a long time, and Decimus took the time to study her. Although her face was hidden from view, the rest of her was clearly visible. She didn’t look more than sixteen, though her incarceration could have added years to her appearance. How old was the child?
Her hair shone golden after her bath, even lighter than he had at first believed. She had the coloring of someone from Germania, and he wondered about her ancestry. The white tunic which hung on her slender figure only added to her air of untouched purity. Bones protruded from her shoulders. Again Decimus felt rage boil inside. Such a gentle girl, yet she had endured so much. Compassion stirred within him, and something else as yet indefinable.
Antipus returned, followed by two servants. “Dagon will show you to your room, Decimus, and Candace will show you yours.” He smiled at Chara. “You have had a rough day. I hope you sleep well.”
She returned his smile. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”
“I also wish to thank you,” Decimus told Antipus before following Dagon out the door.
When they reached the top of the marble staircase, Decimus stopped, turning Chara toward him. “You will be all right?”
For a moment, she stared deeply into his eyes. Placing her hands gently on his shoulders, she raised on her tiptoes and softly kissed him on the lips. “Thank God He sent you into my life.”
Decimus was moved despite himself. He didn’t want to be responsible for this girl, and yet here he was, making plans for her to go with him to Britannia. He didn’t want to feel anything for her, and yet he had been stirred by her guileless kiss. Letting go of her shoulders, he turned and quickly exited, following Dagon down the corridor.
Chara watched him walk away, a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She had made him angry by being so forward. Her face colored crimson as she realized what she had done. How could she have acted that way? She was normally painfully shy, yet with Decimus she felt like a flower beginning to newly bud, slowly opening to the world around it. Shaking her head, she turned and followed Candace to her own room.
Candace lit a lamp and pulled the draperies. Chara studied the room, awed by such wealth. Even her stepfather had not had such luxuries, and he had been a wealthy man.
When Candace left the room, Chara made ready for bed and slid between the silken sheets. She nestled snugly into the bedding, almost purring with contentment. She did not know what the future held for her, but she had learned to take one day at a time, and for now she would enjoy every moment of such luxurious living.
Closing her eyes, she began to pray. She didn’t get far before tiredness overcame her and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 3
Decimus spent the next several days scouring the marketplace for suitable clothing. Since the warm Mediterranean climate was predominant most of the year and it was the middle of summer, only linen tunics were to be found.
He finally found what he was looking for at a little stall in a back alley near the docks. Placing his denarii on the counter, he rolled the wool tunics into a ball. Ever on the watch, he kept his eyes and ears open.
When he returned to the villa, he found Chara waiting for him in the garden. “You found what you wanted?”
Decimus nodded. “Pretty much so. I still need to find fur-lined cloaks if possible. If not, we may have to wait until we reach Gaul to purchase them.”
He laid the bundles on the bench beside her. “How are your feet this morning?”
Smiling, she held out one small foot, now encased in a leather sandal, for inspection. “Much better, as you can see. They are almost completely healed.”
A half smile touched Decimus’s lips. “It’s fortunate that the first part of our journey will be by sea. You shouldn’t have to do much walking.” Moving the bundle of clothing aside, he sat down next to her. He twisted his fingers together, eyes focused on the ground. When he cleared his throat, Chara gazed at him expectantly.
“Is there. . . I mean, do you. . .” He paused, turning slightly away from her. Picking up a dry flower petal from the ground, he started crumbling it to pieces.
Chara waited, her soft brown eyes wandering over his features. He took his time before finally asking what was uppermost in his mind. “When we get to Gaul, is there anyone you wish to see?” His eyes found hers. “I mean, is there family you wish to. . . ?”
Chara was already shaking her head. “There is no one. I have nowhere to go, if not with you.”
Decimus considered her for a long time, then got up and started pacing in front of her. Running a hand in agitation through his hair, he came to an abrupt halt. Kneeling beside her, he tried to decide how he could explain certain things to her. She was such an innocent that she would probably have no idea what he was talking about.
“Chara. . .” Again he stopped. Before he could begin again, Antipus came into the garden.
“Well, hello. How did things go at the market today?”
Decimus sighed in relief. Perhaps Antipus would know a way to tell Chara the things that needed to be said. He would ask him later.
Decimus rose to his feet. “Things went well. I found most of what I needed.”
“Probably cost you a few denarii, hmm?”
Grinning, Decimus confirmed it with a nod. “The old reprobate who sold me the woolen robes knew he had me in a tight spot. He was a smart old donkey.”
Antipus laughed. “Probably Bacchus. He’s the wiliest merchant in all of Rome. If you can’t find what you are looking for anywhere else, Bacchus is sure to have it.”
“Have you heard from Galla?” Decimus wanted to know.
Antipus turned an inquiring look on Chara and motioned to the bench where she was seated. “May I, my dear?” Smiling her consent, Chara moved to the side to allow Antipus to be seated. “No,” he said, “he hasn’t sent word to me.”
Decimus sighed. “How long will it be, Antipus? The longer we stay, the better the chances of being caught and sent to the arena.”
“Patience, my friend. Everything in good time. In the meantime, make yourself at home here. Agrippina and I welcome the diversion from our monotonous life.”
“Your lady is a wonderful person,” Chara told Antipus softly.
He smiled, touching Chara’s cheek with his palm. “She certainly has fallen in love with you. She seems to think of you as the daughter we never had.”
Chara didn’t feel it her place to inquire, but her eyes held a question.
“No, child,” Antipus told her. “Agrippina and I have no children of our own.” Pain was in his eyes when he looked away. “It was just not to be. Now, well, now I thank God. Children would be just one more worry, more people for whose safety I would fear.”
Thinking to deter the old man from his melancholy thoughts, Decimus pulled a small statue from his sack. He handed it to Antipus. “I found this at the market and thought that I would like you to have it. A small way of saying thank you.”
Antipus held the statue cupped in his palms, and his eyes filled with tears. A shepherd was carrying a lamb over his shoulder, his staff in his hands. Even such a small statue was intricately carved and detailed so tha
t the man’s features were clear. His chin was thrust forward in determination, yet his eyes were filled with joy. Decimus had marveled at it when he saw it at the idol merchant’s stall. It was indeed a work of art.
“Just like our Lord,” Antipus told them softly.
Decimus silently agreed. Those had been his same thoughts when he had spotted the shepherd among the other idols. When he looked at Chara, her eyes were fixed intently on the statue. She glanced up at him and smiled, and Decimus caught his breath. When she smiled with her eyes like that, she was almost pretty.
Feeling foolish for such a flight of fancy, Decimus scowled and turned toward the villa. “There are some things I need to attend to before this evening.” Bowing, he left them.
Chara followed him with her eyes. When he was out of sight, she turned back to Antipus. He was regarding her solemnly.
“You love him?”
Eyes wide, she would have denied it, but she wasn’t sure that she could. “How can one tell after such a short time?” she remonstrated.
He smiled that gentle smile of his. “Agrippina and I knew the minute we laid eyes on each other. We were fortunate that our parents allowed us to marry, since we came from different backgrounds.”
“You love her very much.” It was a statement and not a question.
“Is that so surprising? We’re old, but not yet dead. Agrippina is the other half of the clay that the Lord used to create me. I have never desired another.”
Chara looked away. “I hope God has such a thing in store for me.”
Antipus patted her hand. “He does, my dear, He does. So never settle for second best. You’ll know if he’s the right one. Sometimes people know right away; other times love grows slowly like the unfolding of a flower.”
Edge of Destiny Page 3
