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“Halt,” he growled near her ear, jerking her against him. If she did not stop they would both die, and then he’d, most assuredly, lose against his brother. A shame, given he’d just begun to feel alive again.
Her eyes filled with tears, or perhaps it was only the sea. Whatever it was, her fear and sadness reached into his soul and tugged with a greater force than any wave. He knew right then he’d do anything to protect her, even allow the sea to take him.
“I am scared.” Her eyelids slid shut, pushing tears down her cheeks until the droplets fell into the bobbing water.
Did she wish to meet her maker? Was he so fearsome that she preferred death over his company?
“Home.”
His gut constricted. He understood that one word, had longed for home with great sickness during his own captivity. He glanced toward the shore, the large tower, a mere speck of sand on the horizon. However, with the sea once again rising he did not have time to span their language barrier and explain that he’d take her home after he’d beaten his brother in their quest.
As if guessing his intentions, she slammed her bound fists against his nose, forcing him to loosen his hold. Her arms flailed, and she kicked her legs against his as she struggled to keep her head above water.
Nicolaus grabbed hold of her tunic, her hair enslaving his forearm and chest. Tugging on the rope attached to his waist, he bound her arms to her sides and then to him. Even though it seemed the fight had drained from her limbs, he was not willing to risk losing. He hated losing, even when he gave up. But giving up was not possible. Not now.
With her back cradled against his chest, he twisted onto his back and kicked his legs. “Xandros, pull!”
After what seemed like long moments, Xandros and Brison pulled them onto the deck. Nicolaus untangled from her hair and loosened the rope from her body and then from himself. He lifted her into his arms, cradled her against his chest and carried her toward his chambers. He climbed the four rungs of the ladder, ducked beneath the beam and set her in the corner before returning to the portal.
“Brison, see the men work double time. We must get ahead of the storm. Xandros, report to the command post. Once the storm passes, we sail west across the Great Sea.”
Nicolaus raked a shaking hand through his hair. Droplets of water splattered to the deck and pooled with the sea dripping from his tunic. He eased in a breath and blew it out slowly. Several times before facing her.
She huddled against the corner, cloaked in her glorious mane with her eyelids closed. He could almost believe she was a creature of the sea. A daughter of the fabled gods. However, her beauty was incomparable to the stories of the beautiful creatures luring sailors from their ships.
Drawing her knees into her chest, she shivered with a violence that shook even him and near caused him to lose his legs. As if sensing he watched her, she opened her eyes. Fire raged in the depths of her glittering jewels. The quivering of her jaw belied the fearless front etched on her face. If not for the rope around her neck and binding her hands she could have held court in the finest palaces. How could anyone sell their relative? Of course, he knew. He had seen the petty jealousy of the women watching this maid’s fate. Who was she to them? A sister, a cousin? No doubt, a servant in their father’s house. A cruel master to allow his daughters to send such a creature to the auction block and near into the hands of Ashkelon’s darkness.
Had his sister suffered such a fate? The anger he’d fought to calm resurfaced. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. The maid lifted her chin as if to defy his anger.
Shaking his head in disbelief at the woman’s misplaced courage and never-ending fight, he laughed. If the men accompanying him when they’d encountered the evil seafarers had had half her courage he never would have been captured, not even against the ten ships that had surrounded him, forcing him to surrender. And never would have been taken to Delos and suffered the shame of slavery. Nor would his father have suffered the loss of his daughter.
Chapter Three (#ulink_59263cec-dd81-5920-89ad-5db6dae890e3)
The captain’s jaw hardened, his fists clenched at his sides. She tore her gaze from his angry glare only to lose her breath at the sight of his broad chest and thick arms. The contours glistened beneath the droplets of water sliding down the smooth skin of his arms. Ada swallowed the knot forming in her throat and blinked her eyes against the sting of tears. As much as she wanted to blame the sea, she knew better. The captain’s cruel laughter had pierced the layers of brick and mud she had used to protect herself against her sisters’ taunts. His laughter should not cause her this much pain, especially given he was nothing more than a stranger, but having gone from the daughter of a wealthy and much respected merchant to a slave and near drowning in a matter of hours was wreaking havoc on her emotions.
Certainly he had been kind enough to risk his life to save her. However, that reason alone was not enough for her to take offense at his mockery. Not when she’d learned as a small child to keep such things from hurting her.
Taking a step closer, he knelt and reached his hand out. She shrunk against the wall as he brushed her hair from her eyes. The warmth of his hand against her cooled skin sent another round of chattering to her teeth. And more despised tears.
“I will not hurt you.” His slow, soothing tone and the rough pad of his thumb against her cheek as he wiped her tears made her want to believe him. The muscles in her shoulders even began to relax, but then he pulled a silver dagger with an intricately jeweled hilt from a sheath attached to his belt. “All right?”
Tensing once again, she darted her gaze around the small room in search of a weapon. A bench with brightly colored silk pillows and a small table, quite clearly attached to the floor, was all that decorated the room. Air refused to enter her chest as the knife neared her throat. The cold silver slid beneath the rope and against her skin. A different sort of fear gnawed at Ada’s insides. Was this how she was to die? Why save her from drowning only to mess his tidy sanctuary by slitting her throat.
Because he thinks to offer you as a sacrifice to one of his false gods.
Uncontrollable tears welled in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. The edge of the knife pressed against her neck. She closed her eyes and swallowed.
“Hear my plea, Adonai, God of Heaven and earth.”
The blade stilled. Ada opened her eyes. Nicolaus’s dark eyes stared into hers. Where they had once been dark and cold, they now held curiosity and warmth. Like she thought they would. Droplets of water dripped from his curls and down into his thick-bearded jaw, before plopping onto a well-defined arm honed, no doubt, in battle if the scars marring it and the rest of his upper body were any indication.
His lips twitched as if he were about to say something, and then he refocused on her neck. His blade tugged against the corded rope. Slicing downward, the knife broke through the rope. He pulled it from her neck and then cut the binding from her wrists before sheathing his knife. Ada swallowed, and salt from the sea continued to invade the inside of her mouth.
Nicolaus grabbed hold of her wrists and turned them in his hands. His eyes darkened to match the night sky as his fingers trailed over the chafed flesh. He glanced at her neck. Lifting her hair off her shoulders, he murmured a few words she did not quite understand. He settled back on his heels and took her hands in his once again, his thumb smoothing over her wrists in a gentle motion. “These need tending.”
Ada blinked several times, pretending she did not understand and pulled away from his touch before cradling her folded hands against her chest. She prayed he would leave her alone. His anger she could accept, but his gentle touch and the concern in his eyes reminded her of her mother’s love. A love she would never again know. She wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her face against her knees.
If her mother had not gone to be with her ancestors, her father never would have left her to the care of her sisters and Ada would not be on a boat surrounded by increasingly violent waves.
The captain stood, raking his hand through his hair, sending bits of water splattering all around her. His jaw clenched. The creases at the corner of his right eye twitched together, and his nostrils flared. “You stay.”
Ada feared to even breathe in his presence given he seemed to be angered easily at the sight of her, not to mention every time she inhaled she caught a whiff of sandalwood and wet leather. A heady combination to her sensitive emotions, especially considering she had wanted to throw her arms around him in gratitude when he released her bindings. However, his command, as if she were a dog, left a metallic tinge on her tongue as she bit back the rebuke.
His chest expanded as if he were about to speak, but he took a step back and then disappeared down the ladder.
Waiting a few breaths, Ada scrambled across the floor and peered down the opening. Nicolaus stood below her with his arms crossed over his bare chest. He was so close that if she reached out her fingers she could touch his hair. Rolling his shoulders, he turned his head, and she jerked back before he caught her.
“Large swell to the west.”
Ada stood. Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her but she pushed forward toward the window and wrapped her hands around the edge for support. Strong winds tugged at her hair. Rain or bits of the sea stung her cheeks. The man Nicolaus had called Xandros stood on a platform at the front of the boat. Beyond him was nothing but gray sky and rising waves.
The gurgling in her stomach bubbled into her throat. She fought the sickness, but it continued upward. She knew there was nothing here to catch the contents of her stomach—if there was anything left—and she did not wish to dirty Nicolaus’s pristine abode.
Gathering the hem of her sodden tunic, Ada climbed down the ladder and raced toward the back of the boat. She leaned over the rail and heaved. And heaved. With her arms against the top rail, she rested her head and fixed her thoughts on trying to breathe past the sickness overtaking her stomach.
The boat rolled to the left and she dug her nails into the wood railing. No sooner had it gone one way, it rolled the other. Seawater rushed over her bare feet as the boat tilted. Ada’s feet slipped from beneath her and she found herself sliding, once again, between the rail and the decking.
A strong arm snaked around her midsection and jerked her away from the edge. Sandalwood, leather and sea salt engulfed her. She leaned her head against his chest and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank You, God.”
The sinewy arm banded around her waist flinched. “Your god has naught to do with your rescue, foolish woman.”
Her relief quickly dispersed at his words. This Greek barbarian and his language grated her frayed nerves. Was her illness foolishness?
“I told you to stay.” He tossed her over his shoulder. Her sensitive stomach rebelled and heaved. Fortunately for Nicolaus, her stomach was now empty. Although it would have served justice to soil his tunic. Her condition seemed to go unnoticed as he trudged across the deck.
“I should let the sea have you.”
She stiffened, frightened he would carry through with his threat. However, she would not respond, would not give him a hint that she knew his language, a language her father often spoken when conversing with traders.
“Save me the trouble. Good coin spent on saving you from disgrace. Should have let the procurer have you. I would have been richer.” He halted beside the ladder leading to the room and deposited her onto her feet. She noticed he had donned his outer tunic and was much drier than she was. “Foolish, foolish woman, I’ll bind you to the mast if need be.”
Before she knew what she was about, she drew back her hand and slapped him.
* * *
Nicolaus furrowed his brow. “You do understand me.”
Her eyes widened, and he smiled. “It is as I thought, but how?”
A wave sloshed over the boat. Spray rained down upon them. Her pallor did not look well as his ship rocked back and forth. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her gaze darted around. “Ah, you do not like the sea.”
She bent over, an arm clutched at her stomach.
“Come along, then.” He lifted her into his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. Her slight frame nestled perfectly against him, when she wasn’t pushing her palms against his chest. That part of him that had been cold for so many months began to beat, to breathe and to hope for a better future than the one he’d resigned himself to.
“Hold still, lest I drop you.”
Fire burned in her eyes as she glared at him. “I do not wish to be coddled. I am meant to be a slave and I should act as such, not as a maid in need of rescue as you so kindly put it.”
Laughter tickled the back of his throat. It took much effort to keep it from spilling forth. Strange how he’d felt happier since he’d brought her aboard his ship than he had in a long while. “If you are a slave, as you say, then I will coddle you if I so choose. As it stands, you are ill. I would not be a good merchant if I allowed my merchandise to waste away from sickness of the sea, now, would I?”
She lifted her chin a little higher, crossed her arms over her chest and released a huff. He gave in to the tugging at the corners of his lip. Fortunately, her eyes were closed else there would have been more from her viperous tongue. Admitting defeat was obviously not easy on this Philistine woman who called upon the Hebrew god, and he was certain their little sparring was not over, which pleased him more than it should. Especially given he looked forward to future matches with this mite of a woman.
“Brison, send a man for a cake of bread and fresh water. I need a bowl and a cloth and the lady needs dry clothing.”
Tilting her head she glanced up at him. “I pray, do not waste your precious merchandise on a slave like me.”
The constant reminder of how he’d acquired her burned in his belly. It wasn’t as if he went about buying humans at will. He grabbed hold of the highest ladder rung and climbed into his captain’s quarters. The woman shivered and then clamped a hand over her mouth. Nicolaus tossed the pillows onto the floor and then laid her down on the cushioned bedding of the bench. No sooner had he done so than she sat upright, clutching her stomach as it rebelled against the ship’s motion.
He swept her hair from her face and tucked it behind her. Drawing her knees into her chest, she rested her cheek against them. Her amber eyes reached into him. He took comfort in the knowledge that she had not willingly jumped into the angry froth.
“I should not be here.” The words were little more than a whisper, but they were like the snap of a sail as it unfurled into the wind. The vibration of her voice thundered against his palm, slammed against his conscience. He unfolded his length and crossed his arms over his chest before staring out at the choppy sea.
Had his sister said the very same words when she’d been taken from him? He dropped his arms, clenching his hands at his sides. The fear in his sister’s eyes as she was taken would forever torment him. The fact that he had taken another young maid from her homeland did not ease the suffering. It did not matter that he thought to save her from an even more repugnant future than being bound to him.
“What is it you are called?” Nicolaus glanced down at her. Her tresses, darkened from the water, fell down her back and pooled onto the bench. He could not change what was. He was not the one who had placed her on the auction block. He only intervened in what fate had in store for her and for that he would not apologize. Somehow he’d make her see the truth. Preferably before they arrived at his father’s house.
“Ada.” Her body rocked with the waves. She leaned near the edge of the bench and would have fallen if he had not reached out a hand. Her eyes grew wide, and she jerked from his touch.
“Ada.” He liked the sound of her name. “You should lie down and rest. It is fortunate this is a small storm and will blow over soon. No doubt your stomach will improve once the sea settles.”
“How can one rest when being tossed about?”
Before he could respond, Brison entered. “I will see to her, Captain. Xandros has need of your assistance.”
“Xandros is capable of guiding us through the worst of storms. What could be the problem?”
Brison shuffled his feet, his gaze never meeting Nicolaus’s. “Do not keep your thoughts to yourself, Brison. Say what needs to be said.”
His brother glanced at Ada before darting toward Nicolaus. “Er...there be ships approaching, Captain.”
“What did you say?” His chest constricted in fear. The last time he sailed, ten ships had ambushed him, capturing him and his sister. He had not considered until this moment how his ship had been left to his crew and all of the gifts his father had sent along to his sister’s future groom untouched. An action unheard of for a band of sea thieves. But then it was not just any band of thieves, but rather David of Delos, a man he once considered a friend. A man who had fought by his side. Why had his friend turned against him, stolen his sister and forced Nicolaus into bondage? Those were questions he could not ponder at the moment. Now, he would do all in his might to keep his ship, crew and especially Ada safe.
“A ship. Perhaps two. Xandros could not be certain. What, with the storm and all it’s a mite hard to discern when they hide behind the waves.”
Nicolaus breathed a sigh of relief, but still raked shaky fingers through his hair. He knew they’d encounter other ships, and he was thankful only one or two approached. However, he preferred not to encounter them with Ada and his youngest brother on board. He could not lose another sibling to thieves, and he wouldn’t risk Ada.
Chapter Four (#ulink_adc3eace-2b6e-5553-9f51-e2074c814d9f)
Brison’s words were mumbled beneath his breath, but she understood the tensing of Nicolaus’s jaw. Whatever news Brison had brought with him wasn’t good. The front of the ship lifted, and Ada gripped the edges of the bench to keep from tumbling to the floor. However, her gaze remained on Nicolaus as he braced his palms against either side of the entryway and swung his legs outward before jumping to the deck.
Once the boat dipped and then settled, Ada pushed from the bench and stumbled to the window. Rain stung her cheeks, like when her sisters had pelted her with pebbles whenever they had wanted her to leave them alone. She swiped the water from her face and shielded her eyes. Dark clouds mingled with the angry sea, making it difficult to distinguish one from the other. The dark wood of the boat was all that broke the dullness of the scenery. That, and the broad shoulders of Nicolaus, who stood on a platform at the front of the ship. His mass of dark curls, soaked from seawater and rain, clung to the contours of his corded neck. His tunic molded to his broad shoulders and arms as wide as a large earthen jar.
The man standing next to Nicolaus lifted his arm and pointed. Ada caught site of a dark spot looming on the horizon. What it was she could not tell, but by Nicolaus’s stance, she could only imagine. She’d heard the tales from merchants at her father’s table. Some from her father who had personally encountered the ruthless warriors of the sea. Could it be a ship on the horizon? A ship filled with thieves?
She turned and slid down the wall. The violent rocking of the boat churned her stomach. Hugging her knees to her chest, she buried her face against her forearms. An unbidden tear dropped from the corner of her eye and merged with the salty water soaking her tunic. What did it matter if the ship held thieves? She’d been traded by her sisters for a gold armband to one master only to be sold to Nicolaus.
What did one more mean to her?
Nothing. Her future had never truly been hers to determine, and now it seemed even less so. She’d be thankful to have known a mother’s love, which she’d hold in her heart as long as she breathed. She’d also known the spite of siblings who despised her for who her mother was, for who she was. A Hebrew.
Drawing in a shuddering breath, she lifted her face and looked at the rafters sheltering her from the storm. It seemed as if God had forgotten that she was supposed to be one of his. “Lord, have You no mercy? Who will protect me now?”
“I will protect you with my life.” Ada glanced up at the man who spoke her language in broken pieces. Nicolaus firmed his jaw, and determination shone bright in his eyes. “As will every man under my command.”
As much as she did not trust these men who’d taken her from her home, she believed this one. Believed that this man would do as he said and protect her with his life. However, the fact that he felt the need to reassure caused her pulse to rise.
“Are we in danger?”
A shout from below deck was stolen by the roaring of the wind and the crashing waves. Nicolaus crossed his arms over his chest, and his gaze shifted out the window. It seemed he preferred to be on deck with his men, and for some reason she wished for his presence right where it was, with her. As much as he angered her, he brought her comfort, made her feel secure.
“There is always danger at sea.”
She pushed from the floor and gripped the window. The sea churned, swishing and swirling like the desert sand in the midst of a storm. The brush of fabric whispered over her nerves as Nicolaus moved closer. Although he had to be as soaked as she was, warmth radiated from him, inviting her to shift closer. She tried to focus on the activity on the deck, on the waves washing over the railing, but his scent drew her gaze. He leaned his forearms against the window and lifted his face to the rain as if accepting punishment from the sky. His eyes were hooded in such a way she could not tell if they were open or closed. Did it matter? She could blame her stare on curiosity. Sure she’d seen Greeks like him. Many had sought out her father’s house for trade, but she’d never seen a man such as him. One that exuded a quiet strength and kindness. A rivulet of rain slid down his brow, down onto his cheek. An instinct to wipe it dry left a knot deep in her chest. What was she thinking wanting to touch this stranger, one who’d thus far proven kind, but a stranger who could command her death at any moment if he were so inclined.
She pulled her gaze from his profile and looked toward the object that now began to resemble a ship much like Nicolaus’s. “And what of them?”
“It depends.”
She tilted her chin and looked him in the eye. “On?”
“Whether they are friend or foe.” His chest rose high and fell deep, much like that of the waves surrounding them. The warning in his voice and the concern in his gaze caused her knees to wobble. “I imagine they intend to port at Ashkelon and wait out the storm, but they are hours from land.”
Ada drew her brows together. “We have not been at sea long. How can we be hours from land?”
Laughter rumbled from his chest, hitching her breath at the joyous sound. “We are farther than you think, Ada. The wind is now at our back pushing us while they fight against it. If they are friend they will most likely continue to fight toward your home. Although—” he squinted an eye as his lips pressed into a thin line “—it’d be easier for them to find refuge in another port such as Joppa.”
“They are foe, then?”
“Possibly, and if so, they will head toward us as they seem to be doing. However, there is no certainty. We must wait to see what happens. Whatever be the case, Ada, you must hide and remain hidden. Do not make yourself known lest you wish to borrow more trouble. Even friends can lose their heads at the sight of a pretty maid.”
Gasping, she pressed her lips together to keep from arguing. The idea that she had borrowed trouble was absurd, especially if he thought that sort of trouble had landed her on his vessel. She moved away from his commanding presence and flung her arms out to her sides. “Where is it you would have me hide, Captain? There is very little here to shield me.”
The corner of his mouth twitched until he gave in and smiled. Strange how the turn of his lips broke the severity of the harsh contours of his jawline. Strange how such a thing caused a tickle of lamb’s wool to fill her chest. It made her want to laugh, to dance like the village women when word of their bridegroom’s approach met their ears. “I would see you belowdecks with the merchandise, but that is the first place anyone with nefarious intentions will look. You will remain here. Brison has brought you a dry tunic.”
He moved toward the bench and slid a panel from the end of it. He pulled out two leather scabbards and attached them to the wide leather belt around his waist, and then he pulled out a torn piece of leather with pictures and strange letters scribe onto it. He tucked it beneath his tunic. “Once you are changed, hide in here. When they have left I will come for you.”
He grabbed her shoulders and lifted her chin until she looked at him. “Ada, do you understand the importance of why you must remain hidden?”
