“Come on. I’m hungry.”
They walked back to camp in silence, although it was a congenial one. There would be much they would go through together in the future, Decimus realized, and they would have no one but each other to depend on.
Chara watched Decimus and Galla coming and rose to prepare them a plate. Soldiers traveling long distances depended on dried fruits and nuts, and that was what they ate for the most part. However, one young soldier had availed himself of the opportunity to practice his bow shooting and had brought down a young stag in the forest. The meat had been distributed around, and the soldier was strutting around the fire as he received congratulations from the others. Chara couldn’t help but smile at the young lad’s cockiness.
Decimus took a seat beside Chara, while Galla sat across from them. Lines of fatigue were etched around his mouth, and Chara decided that there was something troubling his mind.
“What is bothering you, Galla?” she asked him softly.
He looked at her a moment before his lips finally turned up in a smile. “Nothing that you can help me with,” he told her finally. “Just soldier things.”
She would have asked him more, but Caleb rose to his feet. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready for bed.”
Thomas rose, also. “I’m all for that. How about you, Trophimus?”
Trophimus lifted his plate for their inspection. “I’m more hungry than tired. I have to finish eating first.”
Chara leaned her hands toward the fire, trying to get as close as possible. The rain had stopped at last, but with darkness, the cold intensified, tiny crystals of ice forming on every wet surface. Even in her fur-lined cloak, she was chilled.
Galla left to join his men, and Decimus and Trophimus continued to talk. Their soft murmuring voices soon lulled Chara into a state of semiwakefulness, and her head began nodding forward. She didn’t realize the voices around her had stopped until she felt herself lifted into strong arms. She heard Trophimus’s voice as though in a dream.
“She must be exhausted.”
Chara felt herself carried into the tent and laid gently on a mat. She felt bereft when Decimus’s warm arms left her. A moment later, she felt a fur blanket draped over her. Shivering, she pulled it close against her, huddling into a ball. Before long, her deep breathing told Decimus she was sound asleep.
He watched her several minutes, a soft smile curving his lips. She reminded him of a child, her lashes feathered against her smooth cheeks. The smile slowly faded. She hadn’t felt like a child in his arms. She had felt warm, and a shiver of yearning ran through him.
Shaking his head, he left the tent to rejoin Trophimus. They talked a long time about many things. Until then, Decimus hadn’t really seen the young Roman as anything more than part of their entourage. Watching the boy, Decimus realized how homesick he must be. No matter how decadent Rome had been, it was still his home, the only one he had ever known.
Trophimus finally rose to his feet, stretching his arms above his head. “Well, I hate to leave you out here all alone, but I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Decimus watched as the tent swallowed him. He turned his eyes back to the fire, continuing to gaze at it for a long time. Galla’s words kept echoing through his mind. Rising slowly to his feet, he made his way toward the tent.
He crossed to where Chara lay curled asleep. Lifting the cover gently, he crawled in beside her. He lay tense, his hands behind his head, listening to the sound of her breathing. Suddenly she rolled over, throwing one arm across his chest and her knee across his legs. His breathing almost stopped.
For several minutes he lay tensely waiting for her to move. Realizing she wasn’t going to, he exhaled slowly. Carefully he moved one arm around her, pulling her tighter against him. She smiled in her sleep, cuddling closer. Decimus gritted his teeth. He began to count in his head. Finally his body began to relax and exhaustion took over, his eyes closing in sleep.
❧
When Chara awoke in the morning, she found the tent empty. Noises from outside indicated that the others were preparing to leave. Rising quickly to her feet, she stumbled outside.
Decimus was strapping a pack on one of the horses. He glanced quickly at her, then away. “You better hurry and get something to eat. Galla wants to leave within the hour.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked, hurrying to his side. She tried to help him lace the bundles to the horse, but he pushed her gently away.
“I told you to get something to eat. Then you can pick up the bed furs.”
Hurt, she hurried to obey. Decimus had refused to even look at her. What was the matter with him this morning?
She entered the tent and began to gather up the furs they had used to sleep on. Suddenly she stopped. Scanning the interior, she realized that there were only four beds. Frowning, she counted again. No, there was no mistake.
Sudden color flooded her cheeks as she realized that what she had thought was a dream must have been reality. She thought she had dreamed that Decimus had held her close, but it must have been true. Pressing her hands against her hot cheeks, she began to gather up the furs.
She couldn’t look him in the face when she handed him the furs, one at a time, for him to pack on the wagons. Instead, she concentrated on the circles of frosty air forming in front of her mouth. She shivered, pulling her cape closer against her.
Decimus went with her into the woods while she answered nature’s call. He kept his back to her, always on the lookout. When they returned to camp, Galla was waiting for them.
“Good morning,” he called. “Are you almost ready to leave?”
Decimus helped Chara into the saddle. He nodded at Galla. “We’re ready.”
“Good. I hope to make better progress today. The rain slowed us down some yesterday, but it looks like today will be fair weather.”
“How far do you think we can travel?” Decimus wanted to know, scanning the blue sky overhead. It boded well for their journey.
“I hope to make the first Roman station by nightfall. We can exchange horses there, and the soldiers can sleep in the garrison. There should be an inn, as well.”
Decimus lowered his voice. “What of Caleb, Trophimus, and Thomas? Surely there will be no way to escape from there.”
“No. It would be better if they wait until we are farther along the road. Too many soldiers patrol these roads, but the farther north we get, the fewer soldiers there will be.”
Caleb walked up in time to hear the last part of their conversation. “The farther north we get, the harder it will be for me to return to Judea,” he told them angrily.
Galla shook his head. “Longer, maybe, but not harder. It will actually be easier the closer we get to the Loire River. From there you could easily purchase your fare on a ship that would take you around Iberia and back to the Great Sea.”
“Perhaps you’re right.”
Both Galla and Decimus could tell that the Jew still didn’t trust the Roman fully. He had much reason to distrust, so Galla didn’t hold it against him.
They finished loading their gear while Chara watched from astride her mount. The sun was beginning to warm her enough that she took off her fur wrap, rolled it into a ball, and put it in front of her.
Decimus climbed on behind her, taking up the reins. Clicking his tongue, he urged the horse forward, moving into position behind Caleb’s wagon.
Chara marveled at the well-tended roads that were the hallmark of the Roman Empire. With such roads, they were able to move troops easily from one section of the empire to another, thus preventing uprisings from occurring in the various sections of their land.
The Roman war machine was well equipped, well trained, and lethal. Even this small band of troops rode with style, their imperial helmets glistening in the morning sun. Chara shivered. God was the only thing that could stop Rome now.
Galla watched his troops and felt saddened. Loyal, robust, faithful, they would die for Rome, only
Rome would not care. Caught up in its own debauchery, its own pleasures, the empire was greedily devouring everything that came into its path. How long before it devoured itself?
Turning his head, he could see Chara and Decimus far behind. He smiled slightly, seeing the contented smile on Chara’s face as she leaned back against her husband. Decimus, on the other had, was not smiling at all. Galla frowned, wondering what was going through his mind.
Galla would have been surprised if he could have read Decimus’s thoughts. He was beginning to like this being married bit. The one thing that bothered him was the fact that the farther they moved north, the closer he was taking Chara into danger. He had no idea what to expect when they reached Britannia. It had been years since he had been there, and his memories were foggy. He had no definite livelihood there, no security to offer her.
He could dimly remember a midsummer’s night, a huge fire, and priests dressed in robes. Why was it that thought stood out so clearly in his mind? When he tried to remember more, his thoughts shied away and his mind went blank.
The sun rose higher in the sky, its rays warming the air around them until they began to perspire. The extremes in temperature were uncomfortable, and he wondered if they were typical of Gaul.
Unlike yesterday, no forest offered them shade today from the intense rays of the sun. Just when Decimus thought he could stand the heat no longer, a gentle breeze sprang up, blowing against his face. Chara leaned into it, closing her eyes with a smile.
A sudden disturbance behind them caused Decimus to swing around. He could hear angry voices and cursing, and the caravan came to a sudden halt.
Galla quickly made his way to the rear. “What’s going on here?”
One of the soldiers who had been traveling rear guard came forward. “It’s the wagons, Centurion. Two of them have broken an axle.”
Galla quickly dismounted, making his way past the guards who were standing around complaining of the heat. As he passed, they snapped to attention.
Caleb stood beside his wagon, scratching his head. Thomas leaned against the other wagon, shrugging his shoulders when Galla approached. Each wagon was loaded to the maximum. It would take hours to unload and fix them.
Decimus came up behind Galla. “What are you going to do?”
Galla caught a glimmer in Caleb’s eyes before Caleb turned away to study the broken axle. Without taking his eyes from the Jew, Galla answered Decimus. “The last mile marker showed us to be about four miles from the station.” He paused, taking note that the sun was sinking rapidly.
The captain made his way to Galla’s side, snapping a salute. “What do you wish us to do, Centurion?”
Galla sighed. “Take the troops to the garrison.” He turned to Decimus. “You take Chara and go with them. There will be an inn to stay at. I’ll stay with the wagons, along with my slaves and a couple of the soldiers. We should be fine until morning.” Turning back to the captain, he told him, “First thing in the morning, bring replacement wagons. Have the smith come with you, and he can repair these wagons and return them to the garrison.”
Caltupa looked uncomfortable. “Centurion, would it not be better for me to remain with the wagons?”
“These supplies are my responsibility, Captain. You have your orders.”
Galla and Decimus exchanged glances before Galla quickly turned away, giving orders for the unloading of the wagons.
Decimus went back to where Chara was waiting patiently on their horse. “What’s worng?” she asked.
“Two of the wagons have broken down. They’ll have to remain here until tomorrow. We’re going on with the other wagons and the rest of the troops.”
He climbed up behind her, taking the reins from her hand.
“What of Galla and the others?” she wanted to know.
Decimus looked over her head, clicking his tongue at the horse. Slowly they moved forward. “They’re staying with the wagons until tomorrow.”
Chara frowned, glancing behind her. Something didn’t seem quite right, but she couldn’t decide what it was. Looking up at Decimus, she found his expression closed and unreadable.
The captain picked up the pace in order to reach the garrison before nightfall. The last rays of the sun were setting behind the hills when they pulled to a stop in the courtyard of an inn.
“I’ll leave you here,” the captain informed him. “But don’t try to run away. I’ll leave word with the proprietor to keep an eye on you. Do you understand?”
Decimus understood all too well. And although he was not particularly fond of inns, he would welcome a respite from the soldiers’ company.
He lifted Chara down from the horse, and she leaned against him until her legs strengthened beneath her. Dark circles around her eyes bespoke her fatigue.
Taking her by the hand, he led her to a table in the corner of the inn. Glancing around, he noticed very few customers, and those were mainly soldiers who had wanted a change from the garrison. Their interest quickened when they noticed Chara. Decimus was reluctant to leave her, but he had to stable the horse.
“I’ll be right back,” he told her. “When the proprietor comes, order us something to eat.”
Although many eyes followed her movements, the soldiers kept a respectful distance. Decimus returned, hurrying them through their meal. This time when they retired to their room, they did not quibble over who would sleep where. When Chara closed her eyes that night, she was snuggled safely in her husband’s arms.
Chapter 8
Decimus watched Chara ambling along in front of the wagon he was driving. She rode a horse well. He caught the eye of Caltupa and almost smiled at the man’s menacing glower. After all, he had reason to scowl. During the night, Thomas and Caleb had disappeared, slipped away when no one was looking. Decimus grinned. Even Galla had been unaware of their disappearance until morning.
Captain Caltupa had wanted to organize a search immediately, but Galla had forestalled him, telling him that getting the supplies and men to Britannia was more important than the disappearance of two slaves.
Decimus had been surprised when Trophimus had driven his wagon into the compound behind the others. He hadn’t had time to talk to the young Roman, but he was curious as to his reasons for staying. Had he not been able to slip away with the others? Surely Caleb would have waited for him, though everyone knew that the Jew had no love for Romans.
Chara turned and caught his eye, and her smile lit up her face. How was it that he had considered her rather plain in the beginning? She had beauty much like that of young Sara, the kind of beauty that seemed to come from within. Hadn’t the apostle Peter said something to that effect?
Decimus felt butterflies tumbling about inside him. How long could he continue to sleep with his wife and do nothing besides hold her gently? Every time he held her close, he felt himself drawn perilously near to holding her tighter, pressing his lips to hers, and. . . He frowned, considering the consequences.
If Chara were to become pregnant. . . The thought terrified him. He had no idea what would happen over the next several months, and he wasn’t about to take such a risk. Very possibly not one of them would come out of this alive. He could remember little of his life as a boy, but the stories circulating around the empire did nothing to calm his fears. Did the Druids truly offer human sacrifices to their gods? What kind of reception would they give to someone trying to teach them of another God, one who didn’t desire sacrifices at all?
But was that really true? Didn’t the Lord want His people to give their whole lives to Him? Even to the point of facing lions in an arena of Rome? There was no greater sacrifice than the one Antipus and Agrippina had made.
They traveled without incident the remainder of the day. The sun spilled its rays warmly across the verdant hillsides. Rolling, undulating hills met the eye wherever one turned. The scent of pine from the forests in the distance drifted to them on the cooling breeze.
Decimus noted that they were passing another mile marker. Every
ten miles or so, one could find another station where soldiers could refresh their horses or stay for the night. According to his calculations, this made the ninth marker. He sighed, wondering if Galla would choose to press on. Since they had only come nine miles, he decided that Galla would most likely choose to continue.
They passed one small village and then another. Everywhere they went, they were greeted with hostility. Fear and hatred emanated from the eyes of the people they passed.
Galla called a halt when the sun was high in the sky, for they had reached a small stream and needed the time to water the horses. Decimus helped Chara to the ground, keeping one arm protectively around her as his eyes skimmed the nearby forest. Deciding that nothing was in the vicinity, he walked with her into the woods. Keeping his back to her, he watched the others mingling about.
When Chara rejoined Decimus, he was sitting on a boulder next to the stream, allowing the cool water to run over his bare feet. He smiled up at her, taking her hand and pulling her down beside him.
“Try it,” he told her. “It’s refreshing.”
Feeling like a child again, she slid her sandals from her feet and plunged them into the cold water. Squealing, she quickly pulled them back.
“It’s like ice!”
Decimus grinned. “That’s because it comes from the mountains.”
Glancing up, Decimus noticed that Caltupa wasn’t far away. The man’s constant vigil was beginning to wear on Decimus’s not-so-good humor.
Noticing the direction of her husband’s fierce gaze, Chara turned her head. She turned back to the spring, cupping her hands and letting the water run through her fingers.
“Did you know that Caleb and Thomas were going to leave last night?” she whispered.
Decimus focused his attention on his wife, trying to forget the other man’s presence. “I thought they might. It was no accident that both their axles broke.”
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