Edge of Destiny

by Darlene Mindrup

  Chapter 10

  Centurion.”

  Galla looked up at the man standing next to him as he lowered the rope he was holding to the deck beside him. Caltupa’s face was rigid, his features betraying nothing of his thoughts. He certainly hadn’t taken long to make his presence known. The ship had docked only moments before.

  “You have orders for me, Captain?”

  “Aye, Centurion.”

  Galla rose to his full height, which was several inches taller than the captain. His eyes betrayed nothing of the trepidation that was inching its way along his midsection.

  Caltupa held out a long leather cylinder, and Galla took it. His eyebrows flew upward as he recognized the seal. Caesar’s.

  Several things ran through Galla’s mind, not least of which was whether Captain Caltupa was aware of what was in the document. Since both the container and the scroll were sealed, Galla felt fairly certain that the contents were something which he would not care to deal with.

  His eyes met Caltupa’s. “You know what this document contains?”

  “No, my lord. I was told merely that if anything happened to you on the way here that I was to burn the pouch and its contents. Unopened.”

  “I see.” Galla absently tapped the pouch against his hand. “I’ll read this in the captain’s quarters.”

  As he turned to leave, Caltupa put a restraining hand on his arm. “My orders are to wait for you to read the discharge and then to burn it.”

  Galla was surprised, his curiosity growing. “Very well, come with me then.”Galla opened the scroll after they were safely in the captain’s cabin. His eyes grew wide, the color disappearing from his ruddy face. Slowly his eyes met Caltupa’s. The captain stared at him impassively.

  “You know nothing of what’s in this discharge? You are certain?”

  The captain snapped to attention, slapping a salute. “On my honor, Centurion. I have not read the parchment. As you can see, the seal was intact.”

  Galla nodded slowly. He handed the scroll to the captain. “Carry out your orders then.”

  With Galla watching, the captain strode across the small room and placed the parchment in the burning brazier. As the flames licked at the paper, Galla watched, mesmerized. Thoughts were swirling swiftly through his mind, and he was trying to sort them into order.

  “Centurion, I was told that you would have orders for me.”

  Galla sighed. “Your orders are to head north, as far as Londinium. You, the troops, and the supplies. You are to meet up with several other contingents awaiting your arrival.”

  “And you?”

  “I will not be going with you.”

  Caltupa’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He hadn’t seen the scroll; therefore, he knew nothing of the orders it contained. The only thing he knew for certain was that he didn’t trust the centurion. He couldn’t say why exactly; it was just a feeling he had. For one thing, he treated his slaves more like friends than servants. It didn’t make sense to him, but he knew better than to argue. If the centurion was lying, he would find out once he reached Londinium, and if he was lying, then may the gods help him, Caltupa would not hesitate to track him down and have him crucified.

  Galla turned and left the scowling captain standing alone in the center of the room.

  ❧

  Decimus finished tying the furs into a bundle, securing the knot tightly. Chara sat on the deck surrounded by piles and packs. She lifted worried eyes to her husband.

  “What do you think will happen now?”

  Decimus shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see what Galla’s orders are. Whatever happens, God is with us.” He wasn’t nearly as confident as he led Chara to believe. If Galla had to lead an expedition into Britannia, Decimus knew they would have to part company. He would have to take Chara and flee. Glancing around at the ship’s crew hurrying to and fro, he decided that wouldn’t be too hard to accomplish.

  He frowned as Galla strode across the deck toward them, his face a study in contradictions. His forehead was creased in a frown, yet there was a small smile on his face.

  “You have your orders?” Decimus asked.

  Galla nodded. “Yes, and with them an answer to prayer.”

  Chara stood up and came to their side. They waited for Galla to continue, curious as to how orders from Rome could be an answer to anyone’s prayers.

  Galla lowered his voice. “My orders are to proceed north and locate my grandfather’s tribe. Nero knows that my grandfather was an influential man. I’m supposed to try and convince them to ally themselves with Rome against the other tribes.”

  Decimus glowered. “How is this an answer to prayer? Tribe betraying tribe?”

  Grinning, Galla reached down and started lifting packs from the deck. “I’m supposed to go alone. Caltupa is to proceed to Londinium to meet up with other Roman troops that are waiting there.”

  “And what of us?” Chara asked the question Decimus was thinking.

  Galla straightened. “You’ll come with me, of course.”

  Chara frowned. “But you just said that you were to go alone.”

  Suddenly comprehending the turn of their thoughts, Galla laughed. “I’m sorry. I meant no other troops will attend me. Only my slaves.”

  Decimus sighed with relief. He began to help Galla lift their packs and followed him down the plank to the dock.

  “Wait here,” Galla told them. “I’ll see about our horses.”

  Before long, the ship was unloaded, and Galla had their things removed from the others. “Fortunately we bought these horses with our own money, or we would be walking. As it is, I had to pry them from Caltupa.”

  “What do we do now?” Decimus asked, lifting Chara to her horse.

  “I had intended to stay in town, but I think it best if we put some distance between us and this fair city.”

  Chara looked around curiously. “Why?”

  “It seems that hostility toward Romans is growing. Since Queen Boudicca of the Iceni tribe was killed several years ago and her daughters raped, a few of her followers have mounted another effort against the Romans. They are trying to rout any and every Roman in Britannia. They are even killing anyone considered to be a Roman sympathizer.”

  Chara paled. “But what has that to do with staying in the city?”

  “Local tribes have been burning cities they think are necessary to the Romans.” Galla smiled wryly. “Obviously this city would be a great target.”

  “But couldn’t we stay the night? Chara is tired. It’s been a long voyage.”

  Galla shook his head. “No, I think not. One of the dock managers sympathetic to Rome tells me that there are rumors of a raiding party in the vicinity.”

  “All the more reason to stay here,” Decimus told him.

  Again Galla shook his head. “If they come, it will be for one purpose. We can’t take that chance. I think it would be safer farther inland.”

  “And if we meet them on the road?”

  Galla smiled. “I have thought of that. Come, we have much to do.”

  ❧

  Later, Chara studied Galla on his lead horse. He was an impressive man in the uniform of the Roman soldier, but he was equally impressive in the warrior uniform of the southern tribesmen. His yellow brown tunic, or pais, as the Britons called it, hung midway between his thighs and his knees. A broadsword was affixed to his waist on a belt, tucking the pais in and giving it a fitted appearance.

  The one piece of attire that seemed to give both Galla and Decimus some problems was the llawdyr, wrapped closely around their thighs and legs. Chara grinned as she noticed Decimus shift again in his saddle. Obviously the pants took some getting used to.

  Galla’s sagum was draped around his shoulders, providing warmth from the autumn chill. Although Galla’s was checkered, the predominant color being red, Decimus had chosen one of sky blue, dyed from the woad plant.

  The thought crossed Chara’s mind that she would have been more comfortable in the same garb
, but since this was men’s clothing, and warriors’ at that, she had settled for a long woolen pais. She was still enthralled with the checkered pattern of the material. Blues, yellows, reds, and oranges vied for prominence in the garment. The colors were somewhat loud, so she had chosen a brown sagum to go with it. The mantle was made from thick sheep’s wool, and she snuggled deeply into its folds.

  As they traveled, the sun began to move toward its zenith, though the rays were tepid at best. Chara felt herself beginning to nod in the saddle. Jerking herself upright, she concentrated on the steam coming from her horse’s nostrils. The steady clop, clop of the horses’ hooves, however, began to lull her to sleep again.

  Decimus heard a soft thud behind him. Turning, his heart lurched into his throat at the sight of Chara lying beneath the hooves of her mount. Fortunately the beast was so well trained that it remained absolutely immobile.

  “Galla!”

  Decimus didn’t wait for an answer. Flinging himself from his horse, he rushed to Chara’s side. She was sitting up, rubbing her hip.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Shaking her head, Chara started to rise. “I don’t think so. Only my pride.” When she tried to stand, she fell back to her knees with a cry of pain.

  Decimus was on his knees in an instant, lifting her foot. Gently he tried to turn it. At Chara’s soft gasp, he stopped.

  “What happened?” Galla bent over them, watching Decimus lower Chara’s foot gently to the ground.

  “Chara has hurt her ankle. I don’t think anything is broken. It looks like a bad sprain, though.”

  Already Chara’s foot was beginning to turn slightly blue. Decimus reached down and lifted her into his arms. As gently as possible, he settled her back on her horse, but no matter how gentle he was, he could tell she was in excruciating pain.

  “More than your foot is hurt.”

  “I think perhaps you are right,” she answered him softly, her lips beginning to tremble.

  Galla turned around slowly, surveying the countryside around them. “Wait here,” he told them.

  They watched as Galla was swallowed up by the forest. Decimus took a fur and spread it on the ground.

  “Come,” he told Chara, reaching his arms for her. “You’ll be more comfortable lying down.”

  Chara slid carefully into his arms, wincing at the pain that ran through her body. More than likely, she was just very bruised. How heavenly it would be to soak in a hot bath and then go to sleep.

  Decimus carefully put her on the fur, then sat down beside her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I think so.”

  As Decimus had predicted, it did feel better to lie down, and before long, Chara drifted off to sleep. Decimus kept a sharp lookout. He was beginning to worry at Galla’s absence. What was taking him so long?

  Decimus finally spotted Galla returning. Decimus grinned. If not for the hair, Galla could easily be mistaken for a Briton. Although most Britons had conformed to the style of the Romans, many were returning to the longer hairstyle of earlier tribesmen. Decimus suspected it was more as a way of throwing off any Roman influence than because it was more preferred.

  Galla knelt beside Chara, his eyes softening as he watched her sleep. “How is she?”

  “She doesn’t complain, but I think she’s pretty bruised.”

  Galla rose to his feet. “Let her sleep awhile. I’ve found a cave through the trees and slightly up that hill there.” Decimus followed his pointing finger. “There’s a place where we can keep the horses, too. As you can see, it’s pretty well hidden from the road.”

  “What then?”

  “I think Chara will need to rest a few days, give her body time to heal.” Galla paused, staring off into the distance. “You’ll be safe there for a while. I’ll leave provisions with you, and there’s a stream nearby where you can get water.”

  Decimus rose quickly to his feet. “What do you intend to do?”

  “I’m going to investigate the countryside.”

  “What? Are you out of your mind? What if something happens to you? What do we do then? How will we even know?”

  Galla smiled wryly. “Calm down. If I’m not back in three days. . .”

  Decimus’s eyes flashed fire. “What? What should I do then?”

  Galla took a moment to answer. When he did, his eyes were serious. “You must go on.”

  Decimus shoved his hands back through his hair, expelling his breath angrily. “This is crazy. We should stick together.”

  “Decimus.” Galla’s quiet voice stopped Decimus from pacing like an angry lion. “Look to the north. Feel the air.”

  A thin, dark line was spread across the horizon, and although it was still afternoon, the temperature was beginning to drop.

  “A storm?”

  Galla shook his head. “More than a storm. The beginning of winter. When this storm passes, winter will set in with a vengeance. We can’t stay in a cave. We have to find a village or town.”

  “But if you get caught out in that. . .”

  “That’s why I said three days. I’m predicting the storm won’t start for at least three days. I hope to be back by then.”

  Realizing they could do nothing else, Decimus sighed. “Very well, but I don’t like it.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  Decimus bent to gather Chara in his arms. Her eyes opened briefly, then flickered closed again.

  “I hope she stays asleep,” Decimus told Galla. “She won’t feel the pain that way.”

  Galla nodded. “The cave is not far. Do you think you can carry her?”

  Decimus smiled down into Chara’s sleeping face. “She weighs little more than a feather.”

  By the time they reached the cave, Decimus had altered his opinion. Although Chara was light, after two miles she became a weight in his arms. Finally they reached the cave, and Decimus breathed a sigh of relief. He followed Galla inside and saw why he had taken so long to return. A stack of wood lay at the back of the cave near a dark tunnel that led farther into the cavern.

  Galla spread the furs on the floor, making a pallet for Decimus to lay Chara on. When he put her down, she opened her eyes. Blinking up at him sleepily, she smiled. “Is it morning?”

  Galla and Decimus burst into laughter. At Chara’s puzzled look, Galla turned to go outside. “I’ll bring in the rest of the things. You explain to our sleeping beauty here what we’ve decided.”

  Chara didn’t like their plan, but neither was she in any position to argue. Every time she tried to move, pain sliced through her body. Finally she lay back and stared up at the ceiling of the cave.

  Decimus had already started a fire, and the flames caused fingers of light to swirl eerily on the rock walls. Chara watched their dancing patterns as she listened to Decimus and Galla finalizing their plans. She prayed for Galla and his safety.

  When Galla knelt beside her, she smiled slightly at his worried expression. She took one of his hands in her own. “I’ll be fine,” she told him reassuringly. “It’s you I’m concerned about.”

  He grinned. “I’m not the one inclined to fall off horses.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “No, you’re the one who would drive others until they did.”

  Galla stopped smiling. “Chara, I am so sorry. You are right. If not for my pigheadedness, none of this would have happened.”

  “No!” Chara tried to rise. Crying out in pain, she slid back to the furs. “I was only teasing. Please don’t feel that it was your fault!”

  “She’s right,” Decimus told him. “We could have refused to agree with you, but we thought you were right. Don’t start second-guessing yourself now.”

  Galla didn’t look convinced.

  “Remember, Galla,” Chara told him. “Everything that has happened so far and continues to happen in the future is according to God’s will. You reminded me of that when Trophimus died.”

  He touched her cheek briefly, a wry smile twisting his lips. Rising to his feet,
he turned to Decimus. “Take care of our girl. You should have time to tell her something.”

  Decimus frowned, his eyes sending messages to the Roman that made Galla grin. He lifted a small pack and threw it over his shoulders, then fixed Decimus with a steely eye. “Remember, three days.”

  Decimus watched Galla wind his way down the hill. He looked back once and waved; then he was gone from sight. Decimus felt a powerful sense of loss and realized that he had come to depend on the soldier. Looking to the north, he saw that the ominous dark line was still there. He hoped Galla was right about it not reaching their location for three days. He offered up a prayer for Galla’s safety, then returned to the cave.

  Chara lay as he had left her, staring up at the ceiling of the cave. She turned her head when he entered.

  “What did Galla mean when he said you could tell me something?”

  Decimus shrugged. “Who knows what that crazy Roman has on his mind?” He put more wood on the fire, refusing to look in Chara’s direction. Although she knew he was keeping something back, she didn’t press him. He would tell her whatever was on his mind when he thought it necessary.

  Although the temperature had dropped to freezing, their shelter was relatively warm. Chara would have preferred less smoke, but she was thankful not to be spending the night in a tent.

  Darkness descended quickly, another sure sign of winter. Decimus rummaged through their supplies to get them a meal. He brought Chara hers and helped her sit up, propping her against the wall.

  She flinched, but she didn’t cry out. Every bone in her body felt as if it were bruised, but she knew she would probably be a lot sorer tomorrow.

  When they settled down for the night, Decimus was careful to stay close enough to share his warmth but far enough away not to hurt her. Chara missed the security of his arms around her. Her last waking thought was of Galla.

  ❧

  Galla paused beside a stream, dipping his hands in and drinking thirstily. He scanned the forest around him, listening for sounds of life. None were present. He frowned. There should be forest sounds: birds, frogs, something.