“I wondered.” Her eyes met his. “But why didn’t Trophimus go with them?”
Decimus shrugged. “I haven’t talked to him yet. I don’t know.”
A shadow blocked out the sun. “Time to leave.”
Rising slowly to his feet, Decimus gave the man glare for glare, his muscles rippling as he clenched his fists at his sides. Chara moved quickly to place herself between them, taking Decimus by the hand.
“We were just coming, Captain.”
Decimus was aggravated that the man followed so closely behind. Grinning wryly, he realized that it hadn’t taken him long to appreciate his freedom. How long he would have to suffer the company of the soldiers, he didn’t know; but one thing was for sure: He hoped he never knew the bonds of slavery again.
Decimus lifted Chara back onto her horse, helping her adjust herself to the saddle. Laying a hand against the mare’s shoulder, he smiled up at Chara. “You ride a horse well.”
She smiled. “My father taught me when I was a child. I have missed it.”
“What other skills have you that I know nothing about?”
Chara arched a supercilious brow. “Only time will tell.”
For some unknown reason, this only served to make Decimus uncomfortable. The smile fled from his face, and turning, he made his way back to his wagon, climbing aboard. Chara had already started to move forward when he clicked to his horses to begin the journey.
When they reached the station that evening, Galla chose to remain at the inn instead of the garrison.
“If I don’t, I have no doubt that Caltupa will. He seems obsessed with making sure no other slaves escape.” Galla grinned wryly as he loosened his saddle. “He already doubts my expertise in handling the matter.”
The captain was obviously reluctant to leave and return to the garrison. Only direct orders had made him submit.
“He seems to have developed a personal vendetta against me,” Decimus told Galla quietly, hoping that Chara wouldn’t hear.
“I noticed.” Galla studied the man beside him but could see no evidence of fear. “I wouldn’t let it worry you. As long as you’re considered my property, there’s not much he can do about it.”
Chara was waiting for them, a platter of meats, fruits, vegetables, and cheeses on the table in front of her. A serving girl brought them drinks and then left them alone.
“Back to the beginning,” Galla told them, shaking his head. “It seems we are fated to spend our nights together.”
Decimus realized what he was trying to say. If Galla didn’t remain with them, Caltupa most assuredly would. He shrugged. “No problem. As you said, we have done so before.”
Galla picked up a knife and began drawing circles on the wooden platter. “By tomorrow we should reach the Loire River. We’ll take the river west to the Narrow Sea that separates Britannia from Gaul.”
“More travel by sea?” Chara questioned, less than enthusiastically.
Galla nodded. “It should take us only a few weeks altogether.”
A group of soldiers noisily seated themselves at the table next to them. They noticed Galla and quickly rose to their fee, snapping a salute.
“Centurion! We didn’t see you.”
Decimus had no doubt that was because their eyes had been on Chara. She flushed, the color making her lovelier.
Galla nodded his head, and the soldiers resumed their seats. Although the men were talking among themselves, the wine they continued to consume loosened their tongues considerably. Their strident voices could be heard clearly around the room.
“I hear we’re going to mount another counterattack in Britannia,” one soldier slurred. “I’d have thought we taught them a lesson seven years back when we slaughtered Queen Boudicca’s forces.” He gave a coarse laugh. “No matter. I won’t mind another chance at wiping out the likes of the Druids.”
Galla noticed heads turned their way. Many in the room were not soldiers, but civilians from nearby towns and provinces. As far as he knew, the counterattack in Britannia was still a secret. More than likely, the drunken soldier was guessing, but his mouth could very well cost lives.
Galla rose quickly to his feet, striding to the table beside him. “On your feet, Soldier.”
The man stared up at him in confusion, his stupefied expression giving him a comical appearance. Slowly recognition dawned, and he struggled to his feet. Swaying, he snapped a salute that landed somewhere near his right arm.
Another soldier, less drunk, rose from his seat. Galla glared at him angrily. “Take your comrade back to the garrison. Now!” He glanced around at the others. “All of you! Back to the garrison.”
Grumbling, they got to their feet and started for the door. Galla returned to his seat, his eyes still on the door.
Decimus studied the Roman and began to have serious misgivings. How much of Galla’s heart was truly Roman, and exactly how much could he be counted on? Decimus decided he would have to watch more closely in the future.
❧
The town of Lugdunum was much like any other town they had passed thus far, only larger. Here were more of the civilizing influences of the empire. Since it was the largest town near the Loire River, there was much trade and commerce here. The streets were thronged with people going about their daily business.
Galla smiled in appreciation when he noticed that this city boasted a public bath. “I know where I intend to spend the evening,” he told them cheerily.
Decimus smiled. “I could stand to use the facilities myself.” He turned to Chara. “How about you?”
Chara readily agreed. Tomorrow would find them on board ship again, and it would likely be days before they saw land. They all agreed that food could wait, so after renting a room at an inn, they headed for the baths.
Unlike most of the public baths in Rome and Ephesus, these baths had separate facilities for men and women. Chara sighed with relief. The Romans would no doubt think these people too provincial, but Chara appreciated their modesty.
Later, feeling refreshed, they sat down to a hot meal at the inn. Chara felt her stomach rumble, her nose twitching at the smell of the roasted chicken placed before them. She dipped her bread in a bowl of gravy, licking her fingers as she consumed the delicious food.
The noise in the inn was growing as the evening progressed. Remembering past nights, Decimus knew there would be little sleep for him. He was always amazed that Chara could sleep so peacefully with all the noise around. The ruckus would finally abate sometime after midnight when the inn was closed for the night.
They made their way to their room, Galla holding the small oil lamp used to light the passage. Decimus followed him into the room, carrying their fur rugs. Experience had taught them that tiny uninvited guests usually resided in the bedding provided by the inns.
Chara seated herself on the only chair available, smiling slightly as her fingers traced the graffiti etched on the walls. Arestes loves Portia, read one. Did Portia love poor Arestes, Chara wondered, or had Arestes merely dreamed of his loved one? Were they married? Some of the scratched messages left Chara blushing. She decided to refrain from reading any others.
Decimus had positioned their bed as far from the door as possible, but Chara noticed that Galla placed his pallet directly in front of the portal. She wondered if they were expecting any trouble.
Even though the din from below penetrated through the floor, Chara was asleep almost as soon as her head found its position on Decimus’s shoulder. He pulled her closer, smiling down at her innocent features.
As quiet descended for the night, Decimus found himself able to think. The woman he held so securely in his arms was a part of his life now, no matter what happened. His heart was hopelessly entwined with hers. As he did every night, he prayed for their safety. Was he jumping from the coals into the fire? Only God knew, and He wasn’t telling.
❧
Chara watched the sailors and the captain preparing their sacrifice before the ship was about to sail. She shuddered at the cries o
f the lamb as it struggled ineffectively against its captors. She turned and fled to the other end of the ship.
Stevedores carried amphorae of wine and olive oil in a never-ending procession below deck. Grain would be poured directly into the hold, and the amphorae’s pointed ends shoved deeply into the grain. The amphorae would be stacked in tiers as high as the hold itself.
Chara marveled at the size of the ship they would be sailing on. One hundred eighty feet from end to end. Enough space for all the supplies they had brought from Rome plus the trade goods from Gaul to Britannia. For this trip, she and Decimus would be sleeping on deck, as would Galla. All available space was being used to store the goods for Britannia.
Trophimus joined her at the rails, his eyes sparkling merrily. One thing could be said for Trophimus: He enjoyed life. Smiling, she leaned back against the rails. “Why didn’t you go with the others?”
He wrinkled his nose, watching the sky above. Finally he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. Something told me to stay with you and Decimus.” His look was penetrating. “Does that make sense to you?”
A dark cloud of foreboding momentarily darkened her happiness. She laid a hand on his arm. “Trophimus, you could be free to do anything you please, yet you remained with us. I don’t know what voice made you do what you did, but I know I’m glad. I would miss you.”
He smiled into her soft brown eyes, a mirror image of his own.
Chara returned his smile, realizing that he was a very handsome boy. She wondered what the future held in store for him. She had noticed women look his way at every town they passed. He would have no hard time finding himself a wife. She felt a decidedly motherly instinct where he was concerned.
Decimus and Galla joined them.
“Are we going to sail soon?” Chara asked them.
Galla smiled wryly. “It took a few more denarii than I expected, but it looks like we’ll be heading out soon. We need to be on our way quickly so that we are not still at sea when the first storms of winter set in.” He turned toward the deck. “We had better find ourselves a spot, before all the good spots are taken.”
Sailors scurried to carry out their business. Chara watched them with interest. Each time she had sailed, she had been impressed with the sailors and their expertise. They scrambled about the ship like busy little ants.
At last, the huge ship’s sails filled with wind. The boat creaked and swayed, tossed gently by the river. Chara stood with Decimus at the rail, watching the lights of the port city fade into the distance. The sun was setting in an awesome display of radiant reds and oranges.
“Red sky at night, sailors’ delight,” Decimus told her, putting an arm around her shoulders. Chara snuggled into his embrace, as much for the need to be close to him as the need for warmth.
Darkness descended, and the stars appeared in all their brilliance. The inky black sky seemed alive with the glow of a million simmering lights. The moon rose round and orange above the horizon.
They stood a long time marveling at God’s universe. How could a person witness such sights and be immune to the Almighty’s presence? Surely sailors should be closer to God than anyone, if they would only listen for His voice.
Watching Decimus’s face in the moonlight, Chara wondered what he was thinking. Was he thinking about their unusual marriage? Was he regretting it? She considered asking, but she was afraid she wouldn’t like the answer.
She knew he desired her. She could tell from his reactions when he held her in his arms, but he never made any move to make their relationship into a real marriage.
“What are you thinking?” she ventured.
His eyes flickered briefly before he looked down. “I was just wondering what I will find at the end of this journey.” He leaned his forearms against the rails and stared pensively out at the dark waters. Chara felt chilled when he moved away. “Will I find any of my family? I fear my parents are both dead, though I do not know for certain. But is my sister still alive? Would I know her if I saw her? I don’t even know where to begin.”
“You could begin by praying. Asking for God’s guidance.”
“I have.”
“Then trust Him to show you the way. He’ll never forsake you.”
Decimus smiled, lifting one blond brow. The breeze blew a lock of hair across his forehead, and Chara was tempted to reach up and push it back for him. What would he think of such a loving gesture?
“I’m beginning to realize that more and more. Every time I think some catastrophe has just about ruined my life, it turns into a blessing.”
Chara smiled softly in return. “I have found the same to be true.”
Decimus pushed away from the rails, taking Chara by the hand. “Come. It’s time to retire for the night, before our spot is taken away.”
They settled themselves on the furs beside Galla and Trophimus. Caltupa had relaxed his guard, obviously no longer concerned with the slaves’ escape.
Galla was describing Britannia to Trophimus. Although he had never seen his homeland, he knew it well from his father’s descriptions. One of the younger soldiers was listening closely to everything he said. Leaning up on one elbow, he fixed Galla with a fearful gaze.
“I hear they offer human sacrifices to their gods,” he told them, a slight quaver in his voice. Chara felt sorry for the lad, knowing that he couldn’t be much older than she was. His youth and inexperience could cost him his young life.
“We don’t know whether that is true or not, Phlebius,” Galla remonstrated. “Those are only rumors that have been circulated. No one knows much of Britannia. Even I know only what I have been told.”
Phlebius shivered. “Imagine sacrificing humans to a god. That’s despicable!”
“Is it any different from sacrificing humans for the enjoyment of a mob and calling it entertainment?” Chara asked him softly. “What difference if people are sacrificed to Nero, or some unknown god?”
Decimus tensed beside her, expecting a violent reaction. Instead, the young man looked at her uncomprehendingly a moment before he realized the import of her words. His eyes flickered away, and Decimus could have sworn that he saw guilt written across his features. The boy turned away, rolling over on his mat.
Galla and Trophimus smiled at Chara before they, too, settled down for the night.
Relaxing back against his own furs, Decimus pulled Chara down into his arms. She curled against him, mumbling into his chest.
“What did you say?”
“I said, I’m sorry.”
Decimus was surprised. “You have nothing to be sorry for. What you said was true. And who knows what seeds you may have just planted.”
“ ‘I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow,’ ” she quoted softly. “That’s what the apostle Paul wrote in one of his letters to the church at Corinth. I will have to pray that God sends someone to water my seed.”
Decimus gazed at the stars above. The pagans believed their lives and destinies were governed by those pinpricks of light. He was glad he knew that the Maker of the stars controlled his life. And he thanked God with all his heart for bringing this woman into his life.
Chapter 9
T he weather held for the first three days, though the nights were growing colder the farther they climbed in latitude. The first morning after they left the river behind and entered into the sea, ominous dark clouds began to appear in the northwest. The captain watched them for a long time.
Chara, huddled in her furs, lifted worried eyes to her husband. “Are we in for a storm?”
Decimus glanced down at his shivering wife. If a storm did come, everyone and everything aboard this ship would be soaked within a short period of time. Already Chara’s teeth chattered with the cold and damp, and Decimus was beginning to fear that she would become ill.
“It looks that way. Hopefully we can outrun it.”
But the storm approached them with incredible speed. As the clouds rolled low over the horizon, the wind began to gain
in intensity, causing the sea to heave with its fury.
Chara stared in surprise as the sailors, one by one, began to cut their fingernails and throw them over the ship’s rails. When that failed to calm the sea, they started snipping off locks of their hair and doing the same. Regardless of their superstitious entreaties, the storm grew in strength.
Water sprayed over the deck as the ship’s bow rose, then crashed into the hollow of the waves. With each plunge of the ship, Chara was thrown mercilessly about on the deck. She noticed that the men were not having the same problem, save Trophimus. Each man seemed to be made from stone as they rolled with the pitch of the ship.
The ship’s captain made his way to their side. “We’re in for it,” he yelled above the increasing wail of the wind. “Take the woman below deck to my quarters, then come back. I’ll need every hand on board to help us ride out this gale.”
Although it was the middle of the day, it seemed more like dusk, the sun hidden behind the thick mass of clouds. Decimus helped Chara to her feet, holding her tightly against his side. They slipped and slid toward the galley entrance. Before going below, Chara saw the men scampering about ship, trying to tie everything down. Galla and his soldiers were spreading out to make themselves of use wherever they were needed.
Decimus pushed Chara into the captain’s cabin. “Stay here. Whatever you do, don’t come on deck unless I tell you to.” He could see the fear in her eyes. Reaching out, he pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll be fine. Remember what you keep telling the rest of us: God is with us.”
Releasing her, he strode back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Clinging to the doorjamb, Chara watched him go. When he was out of sight, she closed the door and stumbled across to the captain’s bunk. It was nailed down at least, and she clung to it like an anchor as the ship rocked from side to side.
Her fingers grew numb from gripping the wooden bed frame, and she began to shake as the temperature plunged. Her teeth chattered furiously, both from the cold and from fear.
Time passed slowly. Would the storm never end? Chara prayed zealously, hoping the storm would soon spend its energy.
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