Nodding, she turned away from him, pulling the blanket closed behind her.
Chapter 5
W hen Galla joined them at the docks two days later, his face looked haggard, his mouth tight. Decimus knew something was terribly wrong, but Chara was the one who asked the question they were all afraid to voice.
“Any news?” Her soft voice trembled slightly.
His gaze went to Decimus, who read the grim message there. Moving closer to Chara, Decimus placed an arm around her shoulders.
“Antipus and Agrippina were sent to the arena yesterday with about thirty others.”
Chara felt her legs give way beneath her. Thankful for Decimus’s support, she leaned against him, and he lifted her in his arms and strode to her cubbyhole, laying her gently on the blanket. Chara turned her face against the bedding, her sobbing echoing eerily in the warehouse.
Decimus joined the others. “What now?”
“I’ve arranged passage for tomorrow. Myself and five slaves. When I get here tomorrow, be ready to attach yourselves to my retinue. Make it seem as though you are entering the docks with me.”
They all nodded in agreement. Decimus considered the Roman a moment, noticing that for all his strength, his muscles were shaking. Was he as afraid as the rest of them? Or was he worried about something else?
“Was your name implicated with the others?”
Galla shook his head. “No, and since it wasn’t, I have a pretty good idea of who the perpetrator was. Antipus mentioned that one of his menservants was visiting family these last few weeks. Undoubtedly the scoundrel wanted to be out of the house before he went to the emperor’s generals with his betrayal, and his story about his family was just that—a story. Because he was not here these last weeks, he did not find out about my connection with Antipus. Or yours. I hope his guilt rests heavily on his shoulders.” Galla’s eyes gleamed, and Decimus wondered if he was considering retribution.
“I’ll leave you now. Be ready when I return on the morrow.” He turned away but then turned back. His eyes went to the corner where quiet sobs could still be heard. “Will she be all right?”
Decimus followed his look. His heart went out to Chara, for she had really loved the old man and his wife. They had treated her as a beloved child. “Only time will heal such wounds.”
Glancing back at Decimus, Galla nodded his head. He walked out the door and gently closed it behind him.
“I hope he wasn’t followed.” Caleb’s voice was tense.
“Why should he be? He said he wasn’t suspected.” Thomas turned away and went and sat near Chara’s cubicle. Trophimus followed him, his eyes flicking toward Chara’s blanket and then away.
“I could go crazy cooped up in here.” Caleb grabbed an orange and began to peel it.
“Better here than in the dungeons below the arena,” Decimus told him roughly.
The hours seemed to drag by. Periodically Caleb would get up and begin to pace. His constant restlessness was beginning to wear on Decimus’s already tattered nerves.
Darkness descended, and still nothing happened. Chara remained quietly in her cubicle until hunger drew her forth. The others watched her discreetly as she found some dates and began to chew them. Decimus rose and went to her.
“Are you all right?” he asked her softly, noticing her swollen, red eyes.
She nodded her head slightly before lifting her eyes to his. The pain he saw there mirrored his own. “Why couldn’t they have come with us? Why?” She looked at him without really seeing him. “Antipus will never see the beautiful robe Agrippina was making for him.”
Turning, she went back to her pallet and lay down. Closing her eyes, she tried to sleep.
Decimus found it impossible to sleep himself. Finding a comfortable position next to the door, he decided to keep watch. They had to be ready when Galla returned.
The moon rose golden and full, a lovers’ moon. Decimus smiled wryly. The moon was just the same as the night he had left Antonius’s villa. And Sara.
Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall. He should never have left Ephesus. Instead of solving his problems, it had escalated them.
At times he longed for the days when he had served in the house of Antonius, for though he had been their slave, he had been happy with Diana and her family. In his heart, Antonius’s sister had become the sister he had left behind in Britannia. He missed Diana as much as he had missed Sara.
He frowned. Had missed? Did he not miss Sara now? Where were the feelings he had thought were so intense? Now when he remembered Sara, he remembered more the things she had said than the way she looked. He could remember one time when they had sat and discussed the scriptures, arguing the finer points of the Law. As a Jew, Sara knew so much more about the scriptures than he did. Always, Sara had put God’s will before her own.
Faint fingers of vermilion were creeping across the predawn sky when Decimus roused the others. Quickly gathering their things together, they waited and watched from the door for Galla’s arrival. The docks were soon brimming with activity. With so many people, they should be able to blend in easily.
Before long, they spotted Galla winding his way through the crowds of people. He was followed by four wagons and several servants carrying loads of goods. When he drew close to the warehouse, Decimus and the others slipped in among the wagons, following Galla as he headed for a large cargo ship at the end of the pier.
Normally cargo ships allowed many passengers to travel on their open decks, but this particular ship showed no signs of such activity. A Roman soldier strode down the dropped plank to meet Galla as he came to a stop. “Centurion.” He nodded.
“You made room for my goods and slaves?” Galla’s voice betrayed none of his trepidation. Now he would know if his name had been implicated with the others.
The soldier looked around at the array of wagons and servants. His eyebrows rose. “I was told there would be five slaves.”
“As there are. These other servants are here merely to help load the trade goods meant for Britannia.”
The soldier looked at everything carefully before tipping his head. “Your quarters have been arranged. Your slaves can find room on the deck.”
Galla motioned to those standing near. “Start loading.” He turned to the soldier. “Show them where to stow these things.”
“Aye, Centurion.” Slapping a fist against his chest in salute, he turned and preceded them up the gangplank.
When they reached the deck, Chara stayed close to Decimus to avoid being trampled by the hurrying sailors as they scurried to their tasks. Everywhere was pandemonium, yet there was purpose in each sailor’s face and order in the way they proceeded. Obviously they knew what they were about.
Galla froze as several soldiers came up the steps from below ship. “What are they doing here?” Decimus whispered.
“I have no idea, but I’m about to find out.”
He crossed the deck quickly, and Chara leaned closer to Decimus. Without thinking, he put his arm around her. They waited in silence until Galla returned.
“They have been sent to help guard the ship from pirates. Apparently the raidings on the seas have increased, and Nero’s army is determined that these supplies get to their troops in Britannia. It seems Roman spies have heard word of another Briton uprising brewing.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’ve wondered why General Agabus was so anxious to help me reach Britannia. Trade goods, he said.”
“You think he has an ulterior motive?” Decimus inquired.
“I do now,” Galla answered him calmly. “I’m afraid we’re faced with another problem right now, though.”
Decimus waited for him to elucidate.
Galla’s eyes were probing the ship and its occupants. His look settled on Chara. “Have you noticed there are no other women?”
Surprised, Decimus and Chara looked around at the hubbub of activity. Decimus and Galla exchanged glances.
“What do we do? Will there be no o
ther female passengers?”
Galla shook his head. “Every nook and cranny is being used to store supplies going to Britannia. And then there’s the soldiers, as well.”
“How many soldiers are there?” Decimus was beginning to feel strangely uneasy.
“Only about twenty. They needed to save the room for the supplies. It looks like they’re planning for a campaign, though, and somehow I have become a part of it. General Agabus probably didn’t think that I would be bringing a woman, and since she’s a slave, I doubt he would have cared anyway.”
Chara glanced up at Decimus, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Decimus sighed. “What do we do now?”
“Chara will have to stay in my quarters.”
Decimus felt heat surge through his body at the suggestion. Noticing the ominous gleam in the young Briton’s eyes, Galla shrugged. “It’s the only way to protect her. Look around you.”
Decimus looked. Many of the sailors and soldiers had stopped to stare at Chara. Some were nudging others, their whispers and ribald laughter reaching across the distance. Decimus felt the heat in his body intensify. Helplessness again caused his temper to flare.
Galla’s lips pressed tightly together. “You had better get a grip on your jealous possessiveness, Decimus. I won’t have you jeopardizing our plans.” Taking Chara’s arm, he propelled her across the deck and below.
Decimus watched their progress, stunned at Galla’s assessment of the situation. Was he jealous? Ridiculous! One had to really care for someone to be jealous of them. He cared about Chara but not that way. Deciding that the Roman was imagining things, Decimus went to find the others.
❧
Three days at sea and still the beautiful weather held. Chara lifted her face to the salty breeze and smiled with contentment. Free from Rome, at least for the most part. She looked around her, watching several of the Roman soldiers lolling about on the decks. Many eyes turned her way, and Chara shivered.
Decimus joined her at the rail, a half smile curving his lips. “You look well.”
Chara returned his smile. “I am.”
“No seasickness?”
She grinned. “None. I wish I could say the same for poor Trophimus.”
Decimus turned his head in the direction of the young Roman. Trophimus had spent the better part of the last three days hanging his head over the side of the ship. Decimus smiled in sympathy when the young boy slowly made his way across deck and dropped down on his pallet.
He turned his eyes back to Chara. He was hesitant to ask her anything about the sleeping arrangements that had been made between her and Galla, but he had to know.
“You and Galla. . .” He could not think how to phrase his question.
Chara glanced at him and then away, refusing to say anything unless he specifically asked.
Decimus cleared his throat. “Things are well?”
Taking pity on his obvious distress, Chara looked him full in the face. Her soft brown eyes hardened perceptibly. “Galla treats me as a sister. He has given me the bunk in his cabin, and he sleeps on the floor by the door.”
Decimus looked away, embarrassed. “He protects you well.” He felt aggravated that he was not the one watching out for Chara. After all, didn’t she belong to him? He caught his thoughts up short. What was he thinking? He didn’t own the girl. Not really. No one could really own another person, especially one who already belonged to God.
Decimus stared at a dolphin in the distance. “How do you come to know so much about Christianity?”
Blinking her eyes, Chara needed a moment to collect her thoughts after such an abrupt change of subject. She followed his look, smiling at the dolphin that was shortly joined by others.
“My mother taught me.”
Decimus raised an eyebrow quizzically. “And how did she know so much? Gaul is a long way from Judea.”
“My mother was a young girl living in Galilee at the time Christ was there.”
Decimus’s eyes widened. “Did she actually get to see Him?”
Chara nodded. “He spoke to the multitudes, of which she was one. She was only seventeen at the time and a slave in the house of a Roman official. She went to hear Him speak one day. She realized there was something different about Him. She said He spoke with such power and authority one couldn’t help but believe Him.”
“What did He speak about?” Decimus asked curiously.
“Love, mainly. Loving each other and especially loving God.”
“But at that time, Jesus preached only to the Jews. How did your mother come to hear Him?”
Chara shook her head. “No, He spoke to the crowd. Many among the crowd were Gentiles. Perhaps He was only speaking to the Jews, but many others heard Him, also.”
Decimus glanced back to sea, his blond hair tossed in the breeze. “I wish I could have heard Him.”
Chara agreed. How wonderful to have actually heard the voice of the Master, to have actually seen His face. She turned to Decimus and smiled. “True, that would have been wonderful, but thank God we now have the message of salvation, as well as the Jews.”
Decimus returned her smile. Reaching up, he pushed her hair behind her shoulder, letting his hand slide down her arm.
“What goes on here?”
Decimus and Chara jumped. The Roman soldier who had saluted Galla stood behind them, glaring at them. His coldly gleaming eyes went over Chara’s flushed countenance. “You there, you dare to dally with your master’s slave? He’ll have you horsewhipped.” His eyes went boldly down Chara’s slender form. “I can’t blame you, mind. But the centurion is not one to take an infraction lightly.”
As the soldier’s eyes continued their inspection, Decimus’s hands curled at his sides. He took a step forward, but Chara quickly placed a hand on his arm.
“We were doing nothing wrong.”
“I’ll bet,” he sneered contemptuously, and Decimus had the urge to strike him. Unconsciously he stepped forward. Suddenly he was jerked around. Surprised, he came face-to-face with Galla.
“Is there a problem?” Galla asked softly. No one was fooled by the quietness of his voice, least of all the Roman soldier.
Snapping a salute, the soldier motioned to Decimus and Chara. “I found them together. The man seemed to be making free with his hands.”
Galla turned to Decimus, his eyebrows going upward. Decimus felt himself flush with hot color, embarrassed and angry.
“We were doing nothing, my lord, except talking,” Chara told him quietly.
“Go to our quarters,” Galla told her. She looked from one to the other, then hastily did as he commanded. Decimus felt himself growing angrier by the minute.
Lifting his hand, Galla struck Decimus a blow across the face that sent the young man reeling. He turned an accusing face toward Galla, who motioned his head slightly to his left. Decimus looked that way, surprised to see several Roman soldiers standing there. Understanding dawned, and Decimus dropped his eyes.
“I will speak with you about this later. Go below and make yourself useful.”
Galla watched Decimus walk away and hoped that he understood why he had done what he did. Galla couldn’t afford to lose the respect of these Roman soldiers. He and the others had a lot at stake here. He turned to the men. “Be about your business.”
They quickly dispersed, and Galla went to his quarters.
After that, Decimus was careful to keep his distance from Chara, although whenever she was on deck, Galla made a point to be with her. For the most part, she remained in the cabin, safely out of sight.
The weather changed as they grew closer to Gaul. The winds increased, and the sea grew choppy. Trophimus, who had recovered from his seasickness, once again took to the rails.
Galla found Decimus unlacing the ropes from the sails. Bending down, Galla gave him a hand.
“I haven’t had time to apologize for the other day—nor to explain.” He kept his voice soft for fear of being overheard.
Decimus continued his
work without looking up. “Not necessary.” He rolled the sails, lashing them tightly in place. Finally he looked at Galla and smiled slightly. “I’ve always had a rather violent temper.”
Galla smiled back, relieved that Decimus showed him no ill will. Decimus rose to his feet. “My temper is something the Lord and I are working to change.” His voice was barely louder than a whisper.
Galla rose also and said in an equally soft voice, “Sometimes a temper is not such a bad thing. Many a battle has been won by sheer anger. I—”
A shout interrupted his words. “Ship on the horizon!”
Turning in the direction the lookout indicated, men scurried to the rails, straining their eyes to see.
“Can you make anything out?” the captain wanted to know.
“I can’t tell yet,” the lookout hollered back down. “It’s still too far.”
Tension mounted as the ship drew closer. Finally the lookout yelled to the captain. “Pirates!”
There was instant pandemonium. The captain gave the orders to raise the sails again, and the sailors jumped to obey.
“What are you going to do?” Galla asked the captain, his attention focused on the rapidly approaching ship.
“We’re too loaded down to outrun them without the wind at our backs. We’ll have to try to go with the wind.”
“That will take us off course.”
“It’s the only chance we have,” the captain told him grimly.
“Turn starboard!” the captain yelled, and Decimus could feel the instant change in the movement of the ship. “Set sails!”
The sails billowed out instantly, filled with the strong wind. They were now headed off course at a rapid rate, and yet still the pirate ship gained on them, little by little.
“Arm yourselves!” Galla commanded, and the soldiers hastened to obey. They quickly gathered swords and javelins and took positions on the port side of the ship.
The pirate ship was close enough for Decimus to make out individual figures on the decks. He counted at least fifty men. The Roman ship was outnumbered, he realized, but not badly.
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