Edge of Destiny

by Darlene Mindrup

Frowning down at his wife, Decimus took her hand safely and securely within his own. Maybe coming to the celebration hadn’t been a good idea after all.

  Darkness descended, but the revelry continued. Cheers went up from the gathered crowd as Der-wydd lit the now huge stack of wood. Louder and louder rose the voices of the people. Soon Decimus realized that they were chanting, their bodies swaying back and forth. Their movements and their singsong voices soon had him in a semihypnotized state. Shaking his head to free himself of the effects, he glanced down at Chara to see how she was affected. Her eyes were closed and her lips were moving.

  Grinning, he felt a curious pride that nothing seemed to affect her relationship with her God. Come what may, she would hold her own.

  The fire was beginning to die down yet was still bright enough to allow a bright halo of light far down the streets of the village. Some of the older people were making their way to their houses, torches from the bonfire lighting their way. Only the youngest remained, and most of them were so drunk on the strong brew they craved that Decimus doubted they could see to find their way home. As people left, they threw their rocks into the fire, hoping that they would still be there come morning.

  Cadwaladyr was making his way toward them, only slightly staggering. As he reached them, he held out his hands. In the curve of each palm rested a rock, one with Chara’s name and the other with Decimus’s.

  Chara frowned, not realizing that the rock was meant for her. Strange, Decimus thought, that I can still recognize my name written in the Celtic language.

  Cadwaladyr bowed low before Chara, stumbling slightly. Decimus sucked in his breath, moving to place himself between them. If the big giant were to fall on Chara, he would surely crush the life from her.

  “For you, my lady.”

  Chara slowly reached out a hand. Looking up into Cadwaladyr’s face, she realized that this was a test. Since the rock held no symbolic significance for her, she turned and threw it into the fire. When she turned back to Cadwaladyr, his eyebrows were raised slightly.

  “May the gods not choose your rock,” he told her.

  Decimus hid a grin behind his fingers. Cadwaladyr looked as though he were disappointed. Had he hoped that they would defy the gods?

  A disturbance at the other end of the fire brought their attention elsewhere. A young man was close to the fire, swaying back and forth. In one hand, he held a small squirrel, swinging it over his head. In his other, he held a gleaming knife. In one quick movement, he slit the squirrel’s throat.

  Chara gasped, burying her head in Decimus’s arm. Decimus watched in fascination as the boy drained the blood from the animal and then threw it into the fire. Cheers rose from the onlookers as they spurred him on. Again they took up their chant, their bodies swaying to the rhythm.

  Decimus put his arm around his wife and turned to Cadwaladyr. “My wife has had enough. I’ll take her home now.”

  Cadwaladyr grinned, aware of their real reason for leaving. “Aren’t you going to stay for the reading of the bones? I will be throwing in my own sacrifice so that Der-wydd can tell me my destiny.”

  Before Decimus could answer, a woman’s voice spoke eerily from the darkness beyond the fire. “You needn’t wait for the readings, Cadwaladyr. I can tell you your destiny.”

  An uncanny silence descended on the whole group. Squinting his eyes to see better, Cadwaladyr strained to see the owner of the voice. A shadow moved from the darkness and into the light. Cadwaladyr gasped as the woman became visible.

  “Eudemia!”

  Chapter 14

  Galla stared over Eudemia’s head at the giant standing before the roaring fire. Although Galla knew he himself was big, standing at least six feet, this man would tower over him by at least six more inches.

  Never had he seen a man sober up as fast as this one did. His eyes never left Eudemia, as though he believed himself to be hallucinating. For a moment Eudemia returned his stare, her own eyes challenging, before she looked to his side.

  Decimus stood beside the giant, his look of wonder telling Galla better than words could have that Decimus recognized his sister. They stood contemplating each other several moments before Eudemia let out a cry, running into her brother’s arms.

  Galla’s searching gaze found Chara, puzzled and uncertain beside her husband. In all the time they had known Decimus, he had rarely shown any emotion. Now his face was wet with his tears.

  Chara spotted Galla and was instantly running across the darkness, throwing herself at him. “You’re alive! Thank God, you’re alive!”

  Squeezing her tightly, Galla felt his own eyes brimming with tears. “I thought I would never see you two again.”

  Looking over her shoulder, Galla’s eyes met Decimus’s. They smiled at each other, and Galla pulled Chara with him to their side.

  Forgetting everything, they laughed and hugged, content to be together again. A shadow looming over them brought them to sudden silence.

  Cadwaladyr stood towering over them, his dark eyes unblinking. Slowly his gaze roved over Eudemia. Instead of cringing away, she pulled herself to her full height, which, compared to Chara’s, was considerable.

  “So tell me my destiny,” he growled.

  Shaking her head, she glared up at him. “There will be only one destiny for you if you continue to hunt me and my son. Several times we could have struck you dead, yet we did not. But I have had enough now.”

  She pulled a leather girdle from inside her sagum and handed it to the big man. His eyes went wide.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “I took it from your horse last spring when you camped near my home.”

  His admiring look didn’t please Galla at all. There were things here he didn’t understand, but he was determined to find out about them.

  Most of the crowd of people had dispersed at Eudemia’s sudden appearance, their eyes filled with terror. He didn’t know that according to their superstitions, the dead were supposed to walk the earth this night. Nor could he know that they believed Eudemia to have been one of those freed by Samhain, their god of the dead.

  Decimus spoke up. “Let’s go to Der-wydd. He must know that Eudemia has returned.”

  Cadwaladyr nodded once, his eyes never leaving Eudemia’s face. Galla felt himself beginning to bristle at the man’s constant attention.

  Der-wydd explained the story to Eudemia the same way he had explained it to Decimus. There was a kindness in the old man that caused Decimus to doubt his involvement with the happenings of that time so many years ago.

  But if he was not a part of it, where were the other Druids who were? There had been no sign of other Druids in the vicinity, not even a young bard in training.

  Decimus learned that he had a nephew. They decided that Cadwaladyr, Galla, and Eudemia would leave at first light to fetch Cadvan. An undercurrent of tension flowed between the big man and Eudemia, as though they still had unfinished business between them.

  For now, Decimus felt at peace. He had found his people and was reunited with his sister. Soon his nephew would join them and they would be a family. Life was good. God was good.

  ❧

  When Cadvan joined them, he soon fit in with the community. The other boys were impressed with his hunting and tracking skills. He shared with them the new way Galla had showed him to affix feathers to the arrows, and they made sport seeing whose arrows could go the farthest.

  One day Chara was returning from the village when she spotted Eudemia and Cadwaladyr arguing on the path. Neither noticed her, and she stopped, afraid to go on. So heated was their argument that Chara had no trouble hearing what was being said.

  “You were promised to me long ago, Eudemia. You belong to me.”

  Shoving a forefinger into the big man’s chest, Eudemia punctuated her words with sharp, angry thrusts. “Never will I belong to you! You would have killed my son! Given half a chance, you would have killed me for defying you.”

  “That’s not true,” he argued. “T
hat’s why I left my people, my home to come and wed you.”

  “Bah! Your thirst for blood brought you here. You wanted to kill Romans!”

  Chara shoved her hands hard against her ears, yet still their voices reached her clearly.

  “It’s that Roman you came back with, isn’t it? You prefer a Roman dog to me, one of your own people.”

  Eudemia’s eyes glowed like blue ice as she stared angrily into Cadwaladyr’s. Turning, she strode away from the big man, heading for the house. He caught up with her in two strides. Gripping her by the arms, he pulled her forcefully against his chest.

  “You will be my wife, or no one’s. I have the right, and if necessary, I will challenge the Roman to a fight.”

  Eudemia’s face paled. “He would not fight you. He does not want me.”

  Cadwaladyr threw back his head, his brown eyes gleaming like polished bronze. “He wants you, all right. I see how he looks at you.” Shoving her away, he turned on his heels. “Remember what I said.”

  He stopped when he reached Chara’s side, his eyes narrowing. “You have something to say, woman?”

  Chara watched him silently, her eyes never leaving his. He was the one who first looked away. Without saying anything, Chara followed Eudemia to the house.

  After that, Chara noticed Cadwaladyr watching Eudemia whenever he was near. Wherever she happened to be, he was there, also. Eudemia ignored him although Chara knew she was aware of him.

  Chara shared her concerns with Decimus, telling him about the conversation she overheard. After much consideration, she decided not to tell him about Cadwaladyr’s threat to Galla.

  Decimus started watching his sister more carefully. Whatever Cadwaladyr’s plans, Decimus had no doubt that Eudemia could handle the man; however, he wanted to head off any trouble before it occurred.

  Although Decimus and Eudemia has assured Galla that there was plenty of room in their home, he had chosen to build himself a small one of his own, closer to the village. Chara thought it might have something to do with the fact that due to Cadvan’s hero worship of the Roman, the other boys followed him, also. She noticed that he took every opportunity to share stories of Jesus with them, and though they didn’t show much interest, neither did they turn away.

  For the first time in weeks, Galla had joined them for the evening meal. He smiled as Eudemia laid his plate on the table in front of him. She in turn blushed a rosy red.

  Decimus was not unaware of his sister’s attraction to Galla. He watched them to see if there was any sign of a returned affection. Although he loved the Roman, he loved his sister more, and he didn’t wish to see her hurt.

  Galla pulled the meat from the bones of the quail he was eating, dipping it in the broth. Decimus sensed he had something on his mind.

  “I’ll be leaving in a few days to go north to Trinovante country.”

  Slowly he looked up, finding four pairs of eyes riveted to his face.

  “It’s time for me to find my own people and fulfill my duties.”

  “You aren’t really going to try to turn the Trinovante against the other tribes,” Decimus argued.

  “That is not my intention,” Galla returned quietly. “You have found your family; now I have a yearning to see my own.” Although that was partly true, Galla hid his real reason for leaving.

  “But, Galla,” Cadvan wailed. “You said you would teach me to fight like the Romans.”

  Eudemia said nothing. Suddenly her appetite was gone. Had Cadwaladyr threatened Galla? Was he fleeing because he was a coward? Or did he realize how she felt about him and he wanted to get as far away as possible?

  “We’ll miss you,” Chara told him softly, and Galla returned her smile.

  “As I will you. All of you,” he told them, his eyes fixing on Eudemia.

  Cadvan flung himself away from the table, running to the ladder that led to the house’s loft. They could hear his sobs through the ceiling. Galla swallowed hard, rising to his feet. He started to go to the boy but stopped himself. It was better this way. Gritting his teeth, he turned to the others.

  “I have to leave now.” Without looking at them, he gathered his sagum and his bow that he carried with him. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  After he left, Eudemia hurriedly rose to her feet. “I’ll get some wood for the fire.”

  Both Chara and Decimus refrained from comment on the full stack of wood in the corner.

  Eudemia hurried after Galla, calling him urgently. He turned when he heard her voice, waiting for her to reach him. She stopped in front of him, her eyes liquid in the moonlight.

  “You have to leave?” she asked him, biting her lip to keep it from trembling.

  Galla heaved a sigh, reaching out a hand to stroke down her cheek. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Frowning, he turned to study the trees that grew beside the path. “I told you why. I have an assignment to fulfill.”

  “And will you return?”

  He was so quiet that Eudemia thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Galla?”

  “I don’t know. I have no reason to. Decimus can do here what needs to be done, and I can go elsewhere. Together we can cover more territory with the Word.”

  She shook her head angrily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only know I want you to stay.”

  Galla’s insides twisted at the tears in her voice. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t stay. He didn’t trust himself. She was a nonbeliever, and as such, he couldn’t contemplate a future with her.

  He closed his eyes. On the other hand, he couldn’t contemplate a future without her, either. He had finally admitted to himself that he loved her. And Cadvan. The boy was so eager, so bright. So easy to love.

  Determined to make him see, Eudemia put her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to hers. She kissed him fully on the lips. Galla could taste the salt from her tears.

  Throwing pride to the wind, she begged him softly, “Please stay. Please don’t go. I love you.”

  Her words immediately filled him with joy, but just as quickly the pain followed. He wasn’t pretending when he said he had a job to finish. He had sworn to serve Rome’s army, and he would keep his vow. He had sworn to serve his God, and he would keep that promise, also.

  Taking her hands from his neck, he folded them in front of her. His eyes watched her intently. “I have to go.”

  “It’s Cadwaladyr, isn’t it? He’s frightened you away!”

  Galla frowned. “What are you talking about? Cadwaladyr has nothing to do with this.”

  She continued to cry. “No matter what you say, no matter what you do, I won’t marry him.”

  Galla felt himself go cold inside. Gripping her arms, he shook her slightly. “What are you saying? Who said anything about marrying Cadwaladyr?”

  Eudemia told him of the promise between her parents and Cadwaladyr’s. A hope of uniting the two tribes with a marriage between two noble houses.

  Releasing her, Galla shoved one hand back through his dark hair, glaring at the sky. The bright moon cast light over the terrain around them, causing everything to be highlighted by dark shadows.

  Regardless of his feelings, he had to go. Nothing had changed. He still had a job to do, and Eudemia was still a nonbeliever.

  Taking her face between his palms, Galla softly kissed her lips. “I love you, Eudemia. But I have to go. I can’t marry you. There are reasons, but most of them you probably wouldn’t understand.”

  Seeing the hope die in her eyes was almost more than he could bear. Turning, he quickly retreated down the hill. Eudemia watched him go, tears coursing a path down her cheeks.

  He had said he loved her, and her heart flowed with joy. She would go to him tomorrow. No matter what his reasons, she would try again.

  ❧

  The next day, Galla was gone. Eudemia had found the hut where he lived empty.

  His absence affected nearly everyone. Decimus missed the Roman more than he thought possibl
e. He had grown to love him like a brother, and he missed his wise counsel. Chara cried for her friend, but more than that, she prayed for him. Hopefully he would be able to send them word wherever he went.

  There was one person who missed Galla for a different reason. Brianna had hoped the Roman would marry Eudemia, and then in turn she hoped that Cadwaladyr would notice her.

  Life went on in the village. The inhabitants came to realize that Chara and Decimus served a different God, but although they were curious, they didn’t feel intimidated. They couldn’t believe that anyone as loving and kind as Chara could be a threat to their lives.

  Brianna brought bread to the house one day while Decimus and Eudemia were out hunting with Cadvan. Brianna exchanged bread for some of the salt Chara had brought with them. Today Brianna didn’t immediately rush off as she usually did. Instead, she began fiddling with Chara’s sewing that was sitting on the table.

  “Did you wish to speak with me, Brianna?” Chara asked her.

  The other woman sat down at the table, twisting her hands in her lap. “I. . .I wanted to hear about this God you serve.”

  Joyfully Chara told her all that she knew about God, and she shared what she had been taught from the apostles’ writings.

  Brianna sighed. “It would be nice to be loved like that. I have noticed that you and Decimus aren’t fearful like the rest of us. You don’t fear the dark, or the storms, or even death.”

  Chara smiled wryly. “We’re all afraid of something.” She then told Brianna about her life, her trip through captivity, her marriage to Decimus.

  Brianna’s face was filled with awe. “Your God has truly taken care of you. Could He. . .could He love me that much, do you think?”

  Taking her hand, Chara told her, “He already does.”

  Later, Chara watched Brianna walking down the path that led to the village. Whatever was on the girl’s heart seemed to weigh down her steps.

  That night Chara shared the happy news of Brianna’s search for the one true God. Decimus smiled, his eyes roving her joyful countenance.

  “I have seen fruit from some of the seeds we have planted, also. Illtud and some of the others are beginning to realize that their fears are what make them weak. I have told them that perfect love drives out fear.” He grinned. “It’s been several months, but already many of the people are beginning to question the old ways.”