Captain of Her Heart

Sold into slavery by her jealous sisters, Ada finds herself captive on the ship of a Greek merchant. Expecting a harsh new master, she’s surprised to find the captain compassionate—and attractive. Yet she can’t fall for the man who owns her—not when she watched her enslaved mother pine after her unyielding father.

Nicolaus only wants to rescue the beautiful, mistreated woman from the auction block. He plans to free Ada, just as soon as he secures his inheritance. Which means racing the ship back to his homeland to best his brother. If he loses, all his cargo will be forfeited—including Ada. But as perilous storms reveal her courage and grace, the question becomes, can his heart stand to let her go?

“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 the knowledge that she knew his language, a language her father often spoke 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. “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. Her pallor did not look well as his ship rocked back and forth.

“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.

CHRISTINA RICH is a full-time housewife and mother. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and four children. She loves Jesus, history, researching her ancestry, fishing, reading and of course, writing romances woven with God’s grace, mercy and truth. You can find more about her at authorchristinarich.com.

Captive on the High Seas

Christina Rich

www.millsandboon.co.uk

I will extol Thee, my God, O king; and I will bless Thy name for ever and ever. Every day will I bless Thee; and I will praise Thy name for ever and ever.

—Psalms 145:1–2

To Ami Jo, Jordan, Logan and Katie,

I love you much. Thank you for blessing my life.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Quote

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Ashkelon 668 BC

The shadow from the high mud tower loomed over Ada. Its shade broke the heat of the sun, causing her overheated skin to cool, stealing her anger. However, she knew the shivers racking her body had nothing to do with the coolness and everything to do with the fear coursing through her veins.

A young boy tugged on the lead bound around Ada’s neck and hands, causing her to stumble. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out when her knees hit the wooden stairs. Before her bound hands hit the wood, a hand gripped ahold of her tunic and yanked her to her feet.

“You, there.” The large brute released her and jabbed a finger into the boy’s chest. “Take care with the merchandise.”

The deep Philistine accent grated along Ada’s nape. Waves from the great sea thrust against the port, filling her ears, roaring in her head. Breathing in through her mouth and out through her nose, she fought to calm the fear vibrating her limbs and risked a glare at the man through the mass of hair veiling her face.

“Come now, we don’t have all day. These men would like to go home before the wind shifts again.”

If she delayed the process, perhaps her brother would arrive and rescue her from her sisters’ folly. Their jealousy had always been contained to biting words and foolish antics. Their last, a viper in her bed, had proven vicious, but selling her to an auctioneer in exchange for a gold band was beyond Ada’s comprehension. How could her oldest sister, Dina, be so cruel? Because her sister, only half her blood, believed Ada nothing more than a daughter of a slave. All her sisters seemed to despise the way their father treated her as their equal, a daughter of a wealthy merchant. However, none treated her as poorly as Dina.

She shook the hair from her eyes and jerked her hands back. The rough rope cut into her wrists as the boy clung to the other end. The child stumbled and fell to his backside. His flushed cheeks, and beady black eyes quickly turned fearful when his master snatched him up by his tunic. The Philistine narrowed his eyes and Ada thought he’d clout the child, but he righted the boy and then patted him on the head like an obedient pet.

“See to the others.” The Philistine’s gaze settled on Ada. The corners of his mouth slid upward, revealing rotten teeth. He grabbed a handful of her hair and moved closer to sniff. The foul odor of his breath slammed against her cheek as he bent close to her ear. “If I did not need to feed the boy, I’d make you my bride just to teach you humility.” He stepped back and swung his arm wide toward the gathering before them. Ada tried to jerk away, but the man kept a fisted grip on her hair. “Well now,” he bellowed over the crowd. “Haven’t we a lioness.”

His thick arm snaked around her shoulders as he pulled her close. He made another show of smelling her with distaste. “And clean.”

Ada was thankful for the platform she stood on as men of all likes surged forward. Their hands reached toward her feet, touching her toes. She scooted closer to her captor as she searched the crowd for her brother. Almighty God, if You have mercy grant me rescue.

“One piece of silver,” a voice called from the crowd. The taunt was followed by a roar of laughter.

Ada glanced at the man who’d made the offer and sucked in a sharp breath. He was a short, burly man with a matted beard and a bevy of brightly dressed women clinging to his person. Their thick kohl and painted lips were tale enough of why the man would purchase her, but it was not their profession that left Ada shocked and even more angered. It was the five onlookers who stood behind the man. Her five sisters. Dina perched on the edge of a well; her hand propped on one hip, one corner of her mouth curved upward.

“Come now, certainly the girl is worth more,” her captor roared.

“She is too thin.” A man in the crowd spat as if disgusted with her appearance.

The Philistine gripped a handful of her tunic at her back and pulled it tight. “There now, not so skinny.”

“Two, then.”

Tears of anger fought their way to the back of Ada’s eyes. As if losing her mother had not been enough... Dina’s jealousy had gone too far. The gold bangle around her sister’s upper arm sparkling beneath the sun was worth more than two pieces of silver. Her captor no doubt knew this, which filled Ada with hope. Perhaps, the Philistine would fight for a higher bidder, especially since she’d cost him that gold band. Perhaps, the wicked man would pass.

“Throw in your best cow,” her captor yelled.

Dina tilted her head, her gaze considering the lone bidder before glancing at Ada. Her sister ran a finger down the intricately woven shawl that had once covered Ada’s shoulders and crown of glory, as her father had called her hair. A smile teased the corner of Dina’s lips. Her nose curled as she squinted. Ada’s other sisters paid her no heed. Their little elbow nudges and giggles told Ada they thought it all a game.

If only it were true. However, it seemed Dina was bent on revenge.

Why had she not listened to her mother’s warnings? Because she wanted Dina to love her, wanted all her sisters to love her as she loved them. Loneliness filled the cavity within her chest. One tear welled. It filled her eye, but Ada refused to let it fall.

“What say you, man? My dinner grows cold.” The Philistine pushed Ada forward. His fingers tangled in her hair. She pressed her lips together to keep her scream from pleasing Dina any further. The bidding man drew his hand over his beard. “Why spend so much on a weak and spoiled vessel? It is obvious she knows not of hard work. I keep my cow and give you one—” the man held up a small jar “—drink of wine.”

Scanning the crowd, Ada looked for her brother Asher, or anybody willing to save her. “Please, God,” she whispered.

The Philistine leaned closer. His disgusting breath wafted over her. “No god will save you, sweet. Not even the goddess our city honors with such a magnificent shrine.” Her captor motioned toward the mud-brick tower reaching into the darkening sky. “As you have no other bidders...”

The Philistine’s words disappeared as Ada caught sight of a man pushing through the crowd. He was tall, even taller than many of the warriors patrolling the city gates, and imposing. A large gold pendant rested on one sinewy shoulder, holding together the pieces of his tunic. Besides the gold bands circling his upper arms, his other shoulder and both arms remained bare. A wide leather belt cinched at his waist revealed just how massive his chest was. His skin was gold, bronzed from the sun. Dark curls sheared at his nape framed a chiseled jaw. His body bore the marks of war, such as she’d seen on her father and Asher, but his clothing told her he was not a man of humble means.

Her gaze flitted to his, and she wished she could see their color. He tilted his head and spoke to his companion.

“Three pieces of silver, three omers of barley and four drinks of your finest wine,” her captor called out.

Ada jerked her attention from the beautiful man and back to the burly bidder and the women giggling around him. She closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest as that wayward tear forced its way to her lashes. It was not a fair price, not nearly equal to that of the gold band now gracing her sister’s arm, but she felt the Philistine’s acceptance when he relaxed his hold on her.

How could she accept such a fate? It did not matter. If God chose not to save her she would pray and trust Him to mete out justice upon her sisters. And to comfort her father when she did not return home with them.

“Are we agreed?” The Philistine’s voice bellowed with the power of a crashing wave, causing Ada to jump.

“Ay—” The bidder nodded.

“Two hundred pieces of silver.”

Her head snapped up. She looked into the crowd for her brother, but her gaze somehow settled on the strange man towering above those around him. She drew in a slow breath. Dare she thank God for His mercy, yet?

“Two hundred pieces of silver,” he repeated as he moved. The crowd quieted and parted like the wind blowing grains of sand. He halted in front of her. “Thirty omers of barley and four casks of Greece’s finest olive oil.”

Black. His eyes were the color of charred wood. Certainly they could offer warmth much like dying embers, but they were cold. Angry. His jaw clenched, hard as stone, and fear pricked her nape. Had God heard her prayer and granted her mercy, or had the Creator of the heavens and earth ignored her plea and delivered her into a worse fate?

* * *

Nicolaus willed calm into his tense muscles and forced the Sea Dragon to slumber. That man had died along with the skirmishes between Greece and neighboring islands. That man had died after he unknowingly sunk a ship filled with innocent people.

The ill treatment of the young woman reminded him of his own time as a slave, worse it reminded him of what he was certain his sister might be enduring. If she was still alive. He would not think on the fact that if he hadn’t killed off the Sea Dragon his sister wouldn’t have been taken from his vessel when his ship was boarded. Then again, it seemed he could lay the blame on the Sea Dragon, but why he was uncertain. Had it been revenge or something else altogether? It was a question David had never answered. All Nicolaus knew was a man he’d once called friend had betrayed him and had been a cruel master, not only to him but to all of his slaves, including the women. No matter how much he tried to ignore the fear, he could not, would not allow another woman to suffer. Not in his presence. Not again.

“What are you doing? You cannot think to use your father’s merchandise to buy a woman, Nicolaus.” His friend and best sailing mate, Xandros, laid a hand on his shoulder. “My friend, we do not have the time nor the resources to rescue maidens.”

Ignoring Xandros and the dark clouds pushing against the sky, Nicolaus spoke to the Philistine who had yet to close his mouth. “Agreed?”

The Philistine’s gaze dropped to the purse resting against Nicolaus’s hip as if he could judge the amount hidden within the leather bag, and then buried his nose against the young woman’s face. “She is clean.” At least that is what Nicolaus thought he’d said. The man’s dialect was thick and heavy as if he’d had too much wine. Of course, Nicolaus was not as familiar with the language of these people as he should be. “Three hundred pieces of silver, a hundred omers of barley and ten casks of your oil.”

The game of bargaining was well known to Nicolaus. His father was among the finest merchants. Resisting the urge to weigh his purse in the palm of his hand, Nicolaus raised his eyebrows as he perused the young woman. He leaned toward Xandros, who spoke the language well. “Tell him there are many women in Greece who are clean and without such—” he made a motion with his hands as he glanced toward the woman “—curves.”

Her lips parted with a soft gasp, and her dark eyes flamed with anger as Xandros repeated his words.

“A hundred pieces of silver. Twenty omers of barley and two casks of olive oil.” Nicolaus crossed his arms over his chest and waited, a tactic he had often used when negotiating with adversaries. After a few moments of silence he turned on his heel to leave.

“A moment.” The Philistine’s words halted him. Nicolaus glanced over his shoulder. The young woman narrowed her gaze toward a spot in the crowd. Following the direction of her angered glare, he saw several young women pointing toward the platform. They seemed to be arguing with the oldest among them. Who were they? Rivals? Had this young woman stolen the affection of a man from them? Possible, but given how similar the one wearing the gold band looked to the woman being auctioned, he wondered if they were of some relation. Cousins, sisters perhaps?

“We have not all day,” Nicolaus said as he turned his attention back to the Philistine. “You have no other bidders vying for this woman.” He flicked a glance toward the first bidder. “None willing to pay what I am. Two hundred pieces of silver and one cask of oil. It is a fair price and more than the piece of jewelry you traded her for.”

It did not take much to discern the trade, not when the one woman guarded the ornament with a raised brow and a smirk, and so he opted for his original bid of silver in an effort to halt all haggling. After dealing with the Philistine merchants in Ashkelon most of the day, he was done and ready to set his oars to the water. He was ready to return to his island home in Greece.

A low growl emitted from the Philistine. The hand grasping the woman’s hair shook, pulling her hair if the signs of discomfort forming around her mouth and the lone tear were any indication. It took all of Nicolaus’s will not to jump onto the platform and release the woman. The Sea Dragon would have and he was certain he would have, too, if the auctioneer had not conceded with a nod.

Nicolaus untied his purse, counted out the coins and handed them to Xandros. “See to it she is on the ship posthaste. We must leave before the storm comes in. Brison will fetch the oil.”

He pushed his way through the crowd and toward the group of women he’d seen the slave glaring at. Standing before them, he took in their various features from exotic to plain. The oldest, bearing the intricate gold band with colorful stones around her arm, wore a veil over one shoulder. If it had not been sitting haphazard, Nicolaus would not have thought it out of place. However, the color and the weave seemed more suitable to the woman he hoped Xandros was securing. It also seemed to match the color of the slave’s tunic.

“Your name?”

The woman lowered her eyes, her dark lashes brushing against her tanned cheeks. He wondered again if this woman was sister to the slave, the shape of their eyes, the slant of their mouths when they scowled were similar. However, the slave was much more beautiful. This woman’s hair, cropped at her shoulders, was near the color of the sky the moment right before the night cloaked them in total darkness. The slave’s hair, the color of wheat just as the sun begins to slip beyond the horizon, hung down her back in gilded waves. Her skin was much fairer, not as dark as the woman before him. This woman bore the lines of displeasure, sadness and spite, not those of a woman who’d known the love of family.

“Dina.”

He pulled out a decent gold coin and flipped it between his fingers. Her greedy eyes followed the movement as she licked her lips as if starving for a meal. “I would purchase this from you.” He touched the gold band. Although the stones glittered, the craftsmanship was not to be praised. It certainly was not worth the two pieces of silver the procurer used in his quest to acquire the slave, nor was it worth the gold coin Nicolaus offered her. He did not appreciate the way the band seemed to cause this woman to gloat, as if she’d been given a king’s ransom. It did not seem fitting to leave her adorned with it.

Dina reached for the coin but Nicolaus pulled his hand back. “The band.” The woman glanced at her companions before tugging the gold piece from her arm and dropping it into his palm. “What of the veil?” he added.

Dina touched her fingers to the piece of fabric and began to pull it from her shoulder. One of the other women laid a hand on her arm. “Dina, you cannot. What of Father?”

“Shhh, I will deal with him.” Her eyes narrowed to slits as she thrust the fabric at him. Had these women sold their father’s slave without his knowledge? His kin? For what cause?

Taking the veil, he handed it to the one who spoke. “Give this to your father if you must. Inform him she will be well cared for.” He glanced at Dina and held the coin toward her. “As for you, my dear woman, riches are not everything.”

She pinched it with her fingers, but he held on. Dina tilted her head as if to consider his words. Her gaze flitted to the bands on his arms and then to the clasp on his shoulder. The corner of her mouth curved upward. “It is obvious from your dress, good sir, that you have never been in want. Never wandered the desert smelling of sheep.”

The woman could not be further from the truth. However, the wind pushing at his back reminded him time was short. “I hope your conscience can bear the guilt of your greed.”

Did she understand the words he’d spoken in Greek? He could not tell, nor did he wait to determine her reaction. He turned toward the quay where his ship was tethered. The storm continued to cling to the horizon, but it would not do so much longer. It was time to leave Ashkelon and her heathenistic ways. He had a race to finish if he was to beat his Jasen, his twin brother, at their father’s game. The prize—the ship and all merchandise aboard when they arrived home. His latest purchase only increased the stakes and sent a wave of urgency rushing through his blood.

He caught sight of Xandros’s wide shoulders and the woman he tugged through the crowd. They were nearing the gates leading toward walkway that led to the ship when they stopped. The clenching of Xandros’s jaw told Nicolaus all he needed to know. The woman refused to go any farther. Nicolaus pushed through the throngs of seafarers preparing to leave port until he reached his friend and the woman slave. Without a second thought he tossed her over his shoulder. Her bound fists thumped against his back causing him to smile.

He’d misjudged her size. She was much smaller than he had first believed, even if she did have curves, but curves would not help his mother with household chores, and her small stature would not be valuable to tending the vineyards. He would think on what position she would take in his mother’s household as they traveled home. It was a shame he was not looking for a wife. He could imagine waking up to her beautiful, expressive eyes each morning. The warmth of her snuggled against him as he smoothed her hair behind the cup of her ear.

“Come, Xandros. Let us go home. I have a sudden urgency to win the race.” For the first time in months, the burden of guilt began to lift from his shoulders and a smile formed. The air flowing to and from his lungs seemed freer. Perhaps, he could be redeemed. After all, if he could rescue one small maiden, perhaps there was hope to rescue more, including his own sister.

“It’s good to see your competitiveness come back, Nicolaus. I had lost hope,” Xandros called from behind him.

“As had I, Xandros, as had I.” He stepped over the rail and jumped down onto the deck before turning toward his friend. “That bit of haggling with the Philistine.” He puffed out his chest and smiled. A genuine smile, one that encompassed his entire being as freedom washed over him. Even the small fists—a swift reminder of purchasing a human, something he’d promised he’d never do—pounding against his back couldn’t penetrate the first bit of happiness he’d felt in months. “And a prime purchase will do that to a man.”

The fists beating his back halted. The woman stilled. Nicolaus slackened his hold until her toes touched the planks. The top of her head did not even reach his shoulders. She titled her head back. Her mouth scrunched into a scowl. Her eyes narrowed. Had she understood him? Did this Philistine woman understand his language?

“Do you speak Ionian?” he asked in his own language.

A shadow flickered through her eyes as her brows pulled together.

“Perhaps you paid too much for her,” Xandros spoke in her language.

“Perhaps I did.”

Before he realized what she was about, she swung her bound hands, clouting him against the jaw as she stomped her heel down on his foot. Nicolaus grabbed her hands before she could hit him again. Xandros doubled over in laughter. “I would have paid thrice the amount if I would have known she would clout you, my friend.”

Ay, Nicolaus would have paid ten times. Mayhap even more. She had too much fire to be wasted on the likes of Ashkelon’s wickedness. A fire that seemed to banish all his horrid memories and dare him to breathe again.

“The merchandise is all aboard and secured.” Brison, his youngest brother and the man—if one could call seventeen summers a man—he’d placed in charge of their merchandise stood eager to please.

“All save one.” Nicolaus nodded toward the slave as he loosened his fingers around her upper arm. Her anger vibrated through his fingertips, softening his own anger at her poor treatment. What was it about this woman that threatened to banish months of guilt and anguish from his thoughts?

Brison’s mouth fell open, gaping as if confused. Xandros stepped closer as if to protect the young woman from Nicolaus’s wrath, a wrath that was not geared toward her. But what shocked and filled Nicolaus with a sense of pride was the way his young brother straightened his shoulders as if to protect her, too. He glanced down at the little damsel. Her eyes glittered like the amber jewels he’d seen in Ashkelon’s temple honoring one of Greece’s goddesses, and he had the urge to see them spark even more. “Brison, do not place the woman below deck, place her in the captain’s chamber. I would like to keep an eye on my most prized purchase.”

Did she flinch? He was certain she had. Brison most certainly did, and if he didn’t know better Xandros did, too. “Very well, Captain.” Nicolaus caught the twist of his younger brother’s mouth before he turned toward Xandros, who nodded his agreement. Brison took hold of the woman’s arm and led her away. She tried to jerk from his brother, but Brison held firm. Even in her anger her stature was full of grace, and the sway of her hips was gentle, like the smooth motion of his vessel on a calm sea. The sight eased his irritation over his crew’s obstinacy. What was wrong with his brother and friend? Was he such an incompetent commander that his brother must seek his second-in-command’s permission before seeing his orders carried out?

“He thinks you’ve gone mad.” Xandros tugged on a rope leading up to the mast. “I’m inclined to agree. Prized merchandise?”

A rumble of laughter bubbled from Nicolaus’s stomach and burst forth. He clapped Xandros on the back, his mind sobered as he grasped hold of his own words, words that the Sea Dragon would have spoken. “Perhaps I have, my friend. Perhaps, I have.”

“Mayhap the men should seek the mercies of the sea god before we leave port.” The corner of Xandros’s mouth lifted. It was only a jest, but it bothered Nicolaus nonetheless. He’d long ago given up the idea of gods. Much to Uncle’s delight and his father’s grief. Where had the gods been when he was beaten day after day? Where were the gods when his sister was taken from his protection? Those so-called gods his friends and family called upon were nothing more than falsehoods conjured in the minds of idle men.

“Tell them to be done with it.” Nicolaus focused on the western horizon. The clouds grew darker and heavy. He did not have time for a storm. Not when he actually cared to beat his brother this time around.

All laughter left his friend’s face as his jaw fell open. “You can’t think to leave port with a storm coming toward us.”

“I’ve not known you to shy away from a small storm, my friend. Besides, we’ve not the time to waste if we’re to beat my brother.”

“You’ve drunk seawater to be mad as you are.”

Nicolaus smacked his friend on the back. “Nay, I admit there’s a risk, but I have the best sailors on board my ship who do not wish to be swallowed by the sea. If you look—” Nicolaus pointed “—the clouds are moving from the southwest. If we hold course and follow the coast north and then west, we’ll get ahead of it and mayhap miss the squall altogether.”

“It is a relief you don’t intend to sail straight across the sea.”

One corner of Nicolaus’s mouth twitched. How would his friend feel when the skies cleared?

Chapter Two

All reasoning had disappeared when the man had tossed her over his shoulder as if he were a barbarian and she nothing more than a sheep to slaughter. She had been fooled by his attire, richly dressed as he was, into believing he was kind, compassionate. She had hoped to convince him to return her to her father. Instead, he treated her no different than that Philistine when he had dragged her around by her hair.

And now she was being led around a boat. She’d heard of such vessels moving on the Great Sea, but she’d never seen one. Tales told by her father when she was naught but a girl had filled her with excitement. She had longed to experience such adventures until she recalled with clarity how his boat had splintered against rocks leaving him near death.

The crewman stopped beside a ladder and motioned for her to climb. She tilted her head back. It seemed as if the ladder led to a small room or a pyre. She’d heard the stories of these heathens, who even now lifted prayers to an unfamiliar god. She would not be their sacrifice, not to their god of the sea. As if one existed. Had they not heard of the one true God? The One who created the seas and all the beasts within.

The boat rocked. Although she understood the motion of the water, she was not prepared for the way it unsteadied her, causing her to stumble toward the wooden rail. White waves crashed against the boat. She sucked in a breath as the sailor lashed his arm around her waist and pulled her back from the edge. Fear clawed at her stomach, making it angry with each movement of the vessel. Her mouth began to water. Before she knew what was happening the man had her bent over the railing as she lost her morning’s meal. She pressed her bound hands to her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed.

“Better?”

“My thanks.” She nodded; grateful he’d spoken in her language and not that of her captor. She’d prefer the captain did not know she understood most of his language, especially if it helped her to escape.

The crewman pointed back toward the ladder. Ada wished to be as far from the sea as possible, yet... She glanced toward the port. If she could gain her freedom could she reach the shore before a sea monster attacked or the water swallowed her? There were people milling about. Would someone help her?

“Go on. It’s the safest place for you.” He pointed.

Ada’s stomach once again rebelled. Hands once again pressed to her mouth, she shook her head.

A shout rose from below. Rows of oars poked through the side. Another shout and the boat lurched forward. Ada stumbled, but gripped the rail to keep from falling. She swallowed back the tears threatening to spill as the boat lurched again, and again. Each movement proceeded by a command. A command that took her farther away from home.

The man glanced around as if considering Ada’s chance of escape. “Very well. However, you should sit over there.” He tugged on her hands. Shaking his head, he led her to the back end of the boat. The one closest to the shore. “Here. Sit beneath the shade of the helmsman’s perch. You won’t get stepped on and the walls will keep you from falling into the sea. My brother will not be happy I disobeyed his orders and will have my head if anything should happen to you.” He paused as he looked her over. “Considering your sickness, I am certain he will understand.”

A wave splashed against the boat, spraying upon her face. She pressed her back against the side and slid until she sat on her heels.

“I have duties to attend. Nicolaus had hoped to leave before the storm.” Nicolaus? This sailor’s brother and captain? It was not one she imagined. More like Leviathan or Goliath. He needed a name that invoked fear in children, not one that made her want to champion him as if he were a hero. He most assuredly was not her hero. Heroes didn’t steal maidens from their homes. It didn’t matter that he didn’t actually steal her, it didn’t matter that he, in truth, saved her from that horrible man, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—think of him as a hero, especially not her hero.

The man looked toward the sky and Ada followed his gaze. Angry gray clouds hung low, gliding overhead.

“Seems we’ll sail right into it.” He planted his fists on his hips and shook his head. The boat jolted and then rocked. Could the tipping and tilting of the boat possibly worsen? Ada gasped at the thought, but before she could ponder the panic welling inside her, the boat rolled, jerking her to the side. Instinctively, she flung her bound hands out to keep her head from hitting the planks. The crewman seemed unaware of her predicament or the odd creaks and rolling of the boat. His feet remained planted as she struggled to right herself and keep her stomach from rebelling against the motion. Were the waves making her ill or was it the lingering fear from her father’s tales?

“I will bring you a drink when I return. It should calm your nerves some.” He turned to leave, and then halted. “Take care. The god of the sea will not likely return as comely a maid as you if you were to fall over.” He left, scratching his head.

“Bah,” she whispered beneath her breath. Her brother had oft teased her when she was little saying the fabled god would come steal her away to his kingdom if she did not behave. The memory burned the back of her throat. What would Asher say now? However, it was not she who had been about such mischief to cause her trouble.

The captain’s brother halted near the middle of the boat and glanced at her over his shoulder before disappearing beneath the planks. Ada waited a few moments to see if he would return.

A shout from the platform above her caused the forward motion of the boat to quicken. Ada’s pulse thundered harder with each jarring movement. She bit at the ropes binding her wrists in hopes of loosening them, but to no avail. Standing, she ducked beneath the helmsman’s perch and leaned over the rail. Her gaze turned homeward. Merchants continued to busy themselves along the wharf. Some carried amphora vases toward the shore, others carried them onto boats. Waves rolled in from the sea, crashing against the stone piers, and her stomach roiled with the motion. She needed off this boat, needed to go home. Her brother had taught her to swim when she was little but never in such a vast body of water and never with her hands bound. All she need do was get into the water and swim on her back, kicking her legs.

The distance did not seem too far as she could still make out the arms and legs of the seafarers on shore. She gauged the incoming wave as her stomach threatened to unleash its fury. If she did it right, if she jumped before a wave passed, would it push her to shore as it did the pieces of drift being carried toward Ashkelon?

She pressed her face against her hands. Then what? Would she end up on the auction block again once she made it to the port city? This time to that horrible man with the matted beard and colorfully dressed women clinging to his arms. No doubt, especially since he had not seemed too happy to find himself outbid. At least she had a chance of returning to her father. And the sisters who had betrayed her.

Air hitched in her lungs. Had they acted on her father’s wishes? He’d been angry over her mother’s passing. Had he decided to rid himself of his youngest daughter, too? Was that why he had allowed her to journey into the city with Asher and her sisters when he had never done so before?

The thoughts ambushed her chest, tearing little pieces away from her heart. If she did not return home, she would never see her father again, never know if he had wished her gone from his presence.

She glanced down the side of the boat and watched the oars dig into the water, pushing the boat forward. If she jumped here, she would miss the oars and by God’s mercy He would see her safely home.

A look around the deck told her only a few men remained above. The rest, she assumed, tended the oars. The sailor who had helped her earlier had yet to reappear. Armed warriors stood on either side of the captain on a platform at the head of the boat. Nicolaus’s arms were crossed over his chest, his feet braced shoulder width apart. The strong wind tugged at his tunic, brushed back the curls of his hair.

Power and strength exuded from him and she could quite imagine him the son of one of his fabled gods. Her sisters had oft spoke of such men—half god, half man—with wistful smiles and wistful sighs. Mostly, they were larger than David’s Goliath had been. And they always had some sort of gift. Ada had paid her sisters heed only to gain their acceptance, but she knew better. There were no gods other than the God of Heaven and earth. He was the only living, breathing God. A god not created by the hands of man.

As if he could feel her eyes on him, the captain turned. His gaze settled on her, warming her chilled limbs from the stiff, stormy breeze. If only they had met under different circumstances. If only he had not acted the barbarian and hauled her over his shoulder as though she was his property. Of course, she was. He paid a great price to own her. However, that did not mean she was not angered by his behavior. Was this how her mother felt when she was bought and taken from her home by Ada’s father?

A shout drew his attention forward. The boat lifted, slamming Ada against the back of the craft and then to the side. A wave knocked her feet from beneath her and off the boat. She grabbed ahold of the rail and clenched her jaw, her feet dangling over the side. She glanced toward home, now a mere speck in the distance and she knew she’d not be able to swim the distance, not in the angry sea.

Her fingers ached with the effort to maintain her hold. She lifted her face to the sky. “Abba God, please, I just want to go home to my father.”

The boat rocked one way, lifting her away, and then the other plunging her into the cold waters. A wave crashed into her forcing her fingers to let go. She was pushed and then pulled, the wave sucking at her and then rolling her. Her lungs caught fire as she kicked her legs, fighting against the sharp talons of the wave.

* * *

He had shifted only a bit when the delightful prick at his nape had changed to a gut instinct that something was abominably wrong. A flash of bare feet and legs caught his eye when the sun-bleached linen and waves of wheat-colored tresses thrust upward.

“Xandros! Brison!” He jumped from the command post and onto the deck. He did not wait to see if the two followed. Unhinging the clasp at his shoulder, he removed his outer cloak, leaving only his undertunic on, and ran toward the back of the ship. He grabbed hold of the end of the coiled rope, kept at either end of the boat in the instance a man fell overboard, and hopped over the rail. He dove into the water. He’d sailed since he was a young boy and never once imagined anyone would willingly throw themselves to the mercy of the sea. Had she preferred to take her chances with the waves, or had she slipped overboard?

He blew the salty water from his nose and kicked toward the surface. Relaxing his muscles, he allowed his body to bob with the waves while he tied the rope around his waist. Brison’s bellow rose above the seas and the oarsmen reversed direction. Nicolaus would be thankful later that the coming storm had prevented them from unfurling the sail.

“Nicolaus!”

Xandros stood on the rail, pointing northward. The woman’s bound hands rose above her head before disappearing in the choppy water. Nicolaus bit back a curse. Brison should have cut her loose, but then Nicolaus should have ordered him to cut her loose. Perhaps then she’d have a better chance against the sea.

Not that she would have much of a chance if she did not know how to swim. The sea often took humans captive. She bobbed above the water, gasping for air, and he realized she had been pulled farther away than he expected. He hoped the rope reached that far.

“Nicolaus!” He did not need to look at his friend to see the warning. The way the sea bubbled around his legs and rose against his chest, he knew a large wave was bearing down on them.

He dove beneath the water, beneath the fall of the wave until it passed. Kicking upward, he broke the surface and sucked in air before slicing his arms through the water toward the last place he’d seen her.

“Where?” There was no time for patience. However, his gut told him to wait a few beats of his pulse. The water once again rose. God, my uncle is certain You are real. I did not save the woman only to see her swallowed by the ocean.

The wave tugged at him and crashed down upon his head before he could swim under it. He tumbled deeper away from the surface, slamming into a tangle of seaweed. No, it could not be seaweed, they were far enough away from the shore and he was not that close to the bottom.

Was he?

Something bumped against his leg. His eyes flew open. A mass of tresses expanded from either side of her heart-shaped face. The strands took on a life of their own as they obeyed the motion of the turbulent water. He wrapped his arms around her and kicked his legs until they broke the surface. Her body lay lifeless in his arms. Brushing her hair from her eyes, he willed them to open.

He spun her around so her back was pressed against his chest, and wrapped his arm tight around her stomach. He lay on his back and started to swim toward the boat when she began coughing. Her lids fluttered open and then widened in fear. She smacked her head against his shoulder as she arched against his chest. He tightened his hold on her as the sea began to bubble against his legs, but she managed to twist her body around to face him.

“Trust me.” Staring into her eyes, he spoke her language and willed her to trust him. If only until they set foot on the boat. “Hold your breath. I am taking you under.”

He glanced toward the large wave as it rolled toward them. Her muscles tensed.

“Now.”

She sucked in air a moment before he propelled them beneath the wave. With his arms wrapped around her waist, he once again pushed them toward the surface. He shifted her against his side and sliced through the water toward the boat—her hair tangling with his arms and legs hindered him. After only three strokes, the woman tensed and began to struggle against his hold.

“Halt!”

She jabbed her elbow into his ribs, but he held tight.

“You will die.”

She dug her heel against his shin. Twisting in his arms, she clouted his jaw, scratched at his eyes. He was a good swimmer, one thing he’d always beaten his brother at, but she was making it difficult. He seemed to be swallowing more water than usual.

“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

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

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?”

She blinked. The crook of his finger against her chin was something she had never experienced. The warmth and gentleness made her want to follow him across a stormy sea. Even though she didn’t quite understand what it was he meant, she nodded.

“It is unlikely any man sound of mind will try to board my ship in such weather, but we must be prepared. I’ll not risk—”

A shout, followed by another halted his words, but she did not need to hear them to know he would not risk losing costly merchandise. After all, he’d risked his life to save her when the wave had swept her off the deck. Nicolaus glanced out the window. The color of his cheeks deepened in anger and his nostrils flared before turning his attention back to her. He held her firm as a wave smashed against the side. “Your vow, Ada.”

It was not a question. She’d heard that same tone in her father’s voice when he demanded obedience. She was fortunate Nicolaus did not sweep her off her feet and shove her inside the bench as her father would have done.

“Ay.” It was the only word she could form before he’d left her to tend to his duties. His commands to his crew cut through the howling wind, causing her to hurry in the task he’d given her. It took her very little time to change into the dry clothing, and then she tossed the discarded pillows back onto the cushioned bench. The hollow darkness of the hidden space glared at her. Oft times she sought out small spaces, places she could hide from the animosity of her sisters, but the danger pressing upon them caused her fear to overwhelm her thoughts. What if aught should happen to Nicolaus? What would happen to her then?

The ship seemed close enough that Ada could make out blurred shapes of people on the other deck. Inhaling a deep breath of salty air, she gathered her wet clothing and scooted feetfirst into the empty space beneath the bench before sliding the panel closed until there was not even a sliver of light. She would do as he asked, and then pray God would rescue her from any seafarer warriors, and more important from falling in love with a man who would surely sell her as soon as he reached his destination. After all, she was no more than a possession, one that he’d paid a handsome price for.

* * *

Nicolaus climbed the ladder to the command post, stood next to Xandros and noticed the winds had shifted against them. He drew his hand down his beard. Could the situation worsen? “How does it look?”

“They are fighting against the wind as much as we are now.”

“Aye, but something doesn’t look right. Why would they head toward Ashkelon when Joppa is closer? Their sail is unfurled in a storm. A seasoned seaman would know that to be a deadly mistake.”

“Unless they are bold in their attempt to overtake us.”

Nicolaus narrowed his eyes. “It gives me the mind they are thieves, yet their vessel seems to be nothing more than a simple fishing boat, not one made for warfare as thieves are wont to sail.” Nicolaus lifted his face toward the sky. “If only this storm would give way.”

He felt more bound than he had when he’d been taken captive all those months ago, and he blamed it on Ada. Her innocent beauty had called to him, luring him to rescue her from the ways of men. If he hadn’t rescued her, he would not care whether or not ten ships surrounded him, but something about her tempted him to live again, to breathe. He’d even smiled at her antics, a smile that warmed his innards, and that was something he hadn’t done in a long while.

“We’d still need the wind behind us, not pushing at our side. Mayhap we should head due north.”

Nicolaus shook his head. Although his ship was lighter than most vessels and could possibly outrun the one approaching once he unleashed his rowers he would not risk the consequences if he failed. Again. “I do not wish for them to think we are avoiding them. If they are about nefarious deeds they’ll only give chase.”

“Do you think they will attempt to board us in this storm?”

“I’ve seen men steal bread from a child while their bellies were full from a king’s feast.” Nicolaus twisted his lips. “Aye, if they are thieves a storm such as this will not halt them.”

“If they attempt to board us?”

Vivid memories ambushed him. A day hadn’t passed that he did not recall the events and wondered what he could have done to save his sister. He hoped this day would end differently, one where he didn’t lose an innocent maid to a band of thieves and where he did not end up in shackles. “We will not raise arms unless their actions warrant such. We will not resist their efforts to steal our merchandise if they so choose.” Nicolaus swallowed; the lump forming in his throat near choked his next words from him. He would not allow his emotions to sway him this day. “Xandros, if they require me for ransom you are to allow it. Take the maid to my father’s house, ensure her freedom at all cost and care for her.”

Xandros held his position without so much as a blink of his lashes, for which Nicolaus was grateful. His second-in-command would carry out his orders, not because Nicolaus was his captain, but because they were the best of friends and if anyone understood the battle weighing on his shoulders it was Xandros. It would not be easy for his friend to stand down and watch his captain once again be removed, just as it would not be easy for Nicolaus to allow another man to step foot on this boat after his last encounter with an approaching vessel.

The boat tossed upon the waves like a leaf in a creek after a heavy rain shower and as they moved closer Nicolaus could tell something was amiss. Whoever captained the ship had not been at it very long. “Do you notice something, Xandros?”

His second-in-command squinted. “Ay, I see women, lots of them now.”

Tension knotted Nicolaus’s shoulders as needles pricked his nape. He leaned his palms against the railing. He hadn’t been able to make out man or woman, only shapes of bodies, bodies that seemed to be clinging to the rails. “What do you make of it?”

“A ruse?”

Thieves of the sea often consisted of ruthless women as well as children. Merchant ships, unless carrying slaves, did not.

Nicolaus drew his hand down his beard. “Could be. Tell the Haemon and Argos to stay on guard. It wouldn’t do to be caught by trickery.”

Patience was one thing his father had oft praised him for, but now was not one of those times as he waited for the confrontation to come. Were they friend or foe? Even though he was alert to the possible danger, instinct told him these people meant no harm. Given the way the women clung to the sides he was beginning to suspect they were a village in need of rescue. If so, what sort of danger had they encountered for them to be desperate enough to face the great unknown of the sea?

“Bring us to the right a little and toss the small anchor overboard to slow us down.”

“You cannot think... Nicolaus, we’ll head straight for them.”

“Aye, be ready to reel it back in.”

Xandros shouted his orders to one of the men. The helmsman shifted the steering oars and the ship turned just as Nicolaus had commanded. An order to anchor cried over the roaring of the storm and the vessel began to steady in place. As the single boat approached he could see the pale and sunken cheeks of her occupants. “They do not look well.”

Although the words were more for himself than Xandros, his second-in-command grunted. “Still a ruse?”

“I do not believe so, my friend. We’ll soon know the full of their adventure, and if not then we’ll know their mischief.” He rested his palms on the hilts of his daggers and hoped he would not have to use them. After the amount of torture he’d endured during his captivity, he didn’t relish causing anyone harm, but if these people posed a threat to his brother or to Ada he would. His only comfort was that she was safely hidden. As for Brison, he’d grown up beneath two brothers and knew how to hold his own in battle.

He glanced over his shoulder and looked at the window of the captain’s quarters just to ensure she’d done as he’d requested and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it empty. A small part of him was surprised, especially given her feisty nature when he’d brought her aboard.

“Toss another anchor to slow us even more.”

In a matter of moments, the other ship neared enough for them to yell over the crashing of the waves. The condition of the approaching ship was not all right. It was obvious Xandros knew this, as well.

“What is it you wish to do, Captain?”

Nicolaus drew in a slow breath. Instinct told him these people held no danger for him or his crew. Yet, fear tried to grip hold of him, tempting him to order the anchors pulled and his rowers to reverse course, leaving the broken vessel to the mercies of the sea. Given its battered condition, it would not take long for it to completely splinter. Could he allow his fear to leave these people to certain death?

“Prepare the planks.”

“You cannot think to bring them aboard.”

“What choice do we have, Xandros? There are not that many of them. We cannot leave them to the mercies of fate. They’ll die.”

“They are not your responsibility.”

“If not us, then whose? They are in need of rescue and we are able.”

“The ruse?”

“Even I can see these people are in desperate need of help.” Ada’s lyrical accent curled around something in his chest and lifted his lips into a smile. Xandros growled and stalked away to do as bid.

Nicolaus kept his gaze focused on an old man waving in a frantic manner. “I thought I asked you to stay hidden.”

She leaned against the rail, her hair blowing behind her like a sail in the wind. He could not recall seeing any woman as lovely as she, not even his sister and she had been a coveted prize among their neighbors as well as abroad. “I did hide, but...” She pressed her lips together, and he could only guess that she’d succumbed to another bout of sickness. “Besides, they look harmless.”

Ay, they did. But could he be for certain? Once the ships were close enough his crew began throwing ropes to the other boat and began laying planks between them. What he saw on the faces of the occupants of the other boat left bile rising in his throat.

Chapter Five

Ada twisted her fingers together as Nicolaus’s crew maneuvered the boats close. The space between them decreased, and just when she thought they’d bump into each other, several of Nicolaus’s sailors attached laddering planks to the rails.

She bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying out when one sailor jumped onto a ladder and ran across to the other boat. She glanced at Nicolaus, who observed his men in silence. His body relaxed as they moved with swiftness and efficiency. Obviously he held great confidence in his men for he was not bellowing out commands as her father often did when overseeing his workers. “Is it not dangerous to tie the boats together in this storm?”

“There are always dangers, Ada. However, I must discern these peoples’ intentions, and then ensure their safety. Do you wish their boat, if you can call it as such, to break apart and be washed away by the waves?”

“Of course not.” She inspected the people, looking for signs of mischief. She’d never seen a thief up close, but she’d imagine that they would not look as if they’d been without food for weeks. “So, you have decided they are friends?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, never once looking at her. “Nay. My trust is not easily placed, especially in strangers who do not heed my warnings.”

No doubt he spoke about her decision to defy his command and come out on deck. “Ay, I suppose the lack of trust can be true for strangers who steal others from their family.”

He flinched, and she instantly stepped back. She knew her words were like a dagger. Knew if he hadn’t intervened with the burly bidder she would have been in a much worse position. That didn’t mean she liked her current situation.

“Remember this, Ada, I did not steal you and I did not sell you to be auctioned off like sheep. Correct me if I am wrong, but the women who looked much like you, perhaps your own sisters, did that to you. What I wonder is, why?” His last words were no more than a whisper above the wind and light rain, but she heard them as if he shouted them in the silence of a clear desert night. He tilted his chin and pierced her with his turbulent black eyes. “Why is it, Ada? Why did your sisters feel the need to sell you? Did you steal the affections of their marriage prospects?”

Ada’s jaw dropped. How dare he, but why indeed? That was a question that had burned in her heart and roared in her thoughts since the moment Dina shoved her into the hands of the trader. One thing was for certain—no man had ever paid her heed. They’d always vied for her sisters’ attentions whenever her father allowed interactions between them and prospective marriage partners. Her sisters disliked her and she never truly knew why, but Nicolaus’s accusations were far from the truth. She could only assume their hate was born out of their dislike for who—what—Ada’s mother was: a slave. Still, she was her father’s daughter the same as her sisters. She was not at fault for her father’s choice of concubines. “Ay, they hated me, due to no fault of my own.”

She stomped across the deck as best she could, gripping the rail until her knuckles turned white so she would not slip and fall, or go for a swim as the captain believed. She was many things: stubborn ay, a fool nay. Her life may not be her own, and death one of the only choices left to her and her alone, but she did not choose it. The Lord of Heaven and earth reigned, and if her mother had been correct He would rescue her from a life of captivity. She believed it without doubt.

Reaching the ladder, she climbed the rungs, stepped into the small room and then threw herself onto the cushioned bench. For the first time since being brought to this boat, she was thankful for the crashing waves rocking the vessel and the noisy wind stealing her sobs. “God, You will rescue me, will You not? Or am I to endure the same fate as my mother? A slave with no will of my own?”

She wanted to go home, away from this man who both irritated and drew her like the soft lamb’s wool of her bedding after a long day tending chores. It didn’t matter that her sisters disliked her because her mother had been a Hebrew. At least she knew what to expect from them. Besides, they would all soon marry and have families of their own to tend, leaving her to her father’s house. It was not what she longed for, but it was better than this—being swept away to a foreign land with a stranger who was kind one moment and condescending the next. Much as her mother had been treated by her father. A slave, no more, no less.

Ada dried her eyes, stretched out on the bench and folded her hands in front of her. The seams where the wood butted seemed to be flawless. They were coated with a yellow substance and not a single drop of rain leaked. The pine shone with a gloss, and she could not help but think the craftsmanship was much like the captain. He was a man of strength and purpose from all that she could tell, but he was also a man of rugged beauty. And if she were to look at the truth of it, his rudeness had gained her cooperation. Not once, but twice.

She twisted her lips. Perhaps obedience was not the word, not in the sense her father demanded with a rough hand. Her father never would have asked. He only demanded, and if anyone refused to comply they were punished. Sometimes left without food. Memories of her mother tied to a stake outside the village entrance burned in Ada’s blood. After night had fallen, she’d taken her mother what little food and water could be procured without the watchful eye of her father’s wife. Still, it had not been enough.

Nicolaus had not proven cruel since his purchase of her. His kindness, although soured by his insensitivity, elicited a longing within her chest. A longing that caused her to dream of things she’d never thought to before. A family of her own, a household to care for. Love did not matter. A caring husband, much like she imagined Nicolaus would be, did not matter.

A memory of him brushing back her hair with tenderness, of him holding her while her stomach heaved, the comforting circles he massaged on her back...she closed her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek. Her mother had offered her such tenderness when she could and suffered dire consequences when caught by her father’s wife. How was it that her father mourned her mother’s passing when his character toward her spoke of dislike? Of course, Ada would not have known the difference if not for Nicolaus. And for that, mayhap she should despise the captain.

She rose from the bench and drew close to the window. Sea spray bathed her face, and she was thankful the rain no longer poured from the skies to hinder her sight. Nicolaus grabbed the hand of a woman who teetered on a wide plank and helped her onto the deck. His lips moved as he spoke. The harsh lines etching his cheeks and furrowing his brow disappeared as the woman smiled and bowed her head. Brison gave her a cask and some bread before motioning to a small group of people huddled together near the command post.

Shame filled Ada’s eyes, lodging in her throat. She was spoiled as her sisters oft claimed. Here she was bemoaning her fate, when these people were truly troubled, lost at sea. The heat of Nicolaus’s gaze drew her attention, and the harsh lines reappeared. She straightened her posture. Lifting her chin, she moved from the window and descended the ladder. Careful not to bump any of the seafarers, she made her way toward Nicolaus’s man and was pleased to discover if she kept her knees slightly bent she could maneuver the deck with ease.

She laid her hand on Brison’s shoulder. He glanced at her, his eyes narrowed.

“I would help, if it pleases you?”

Brison shifted his gaze to his brother. It irritated her a little that he needed Nicolaus’s permission, that she needed his permission, to help.

“Are you well?” The concern in Nicolaus’s voice curled around her insides, leaving her feeling weak, but she would not allow it to discourage her. “I will not have you tumbling into the water.”

Ada stiffened her spine and swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Of course he would think of nothing but the cost of losing her. What did she expect after knowing him a short amount of time? That his kindness toward her meant he cared for her as a person? His words proved otherwise, and oddly the sting in her chest hurt much worse than the pebbles her sisters were wont to toss at her. “Well enough.”

The corners of his mouth slid upward. Something squeezed tight in her chest, trapping the air in her lungs. Had there been a more confusing man to ever cross her path?

Never. They were either outwardly cruel or showed false kindness in order to gain an appropriate trade with her father. This man seemed to approve of her actions. His words were both kind and biting. She’d oft longed for the approval of someone, anyone outside of her mother, and most important from her siblings as they had seemed to share the same lot as her. But for some reason, his smile meant more than she expected. It meant more than the need to go home.

A home where a strong arm ruled and kindness was absent. A home where it was near impossible to be accepted for the Hebrew woman she was. A home where there were few smiles unless she was being laughed at by her sisters.

* * *

An intense amount of joy built within his chest, much like it had the first time he had hit the mark with his arrow when he was no more than a boy. Ada’s courage, especially in the midst of a turbulent sea and stomach, gave him hope, and yet made him pause. If his crew had had half the courage of this slip of a woman, the seafarers never would have boarded his ship and stolen his freedom and the greatest treasure he’d ever had care of, his sister. If his crew had had Ada’s bravery, they never would have been taken captive by David’s men.

He should not think so harshly of them. He could not fathom the burden his crew had carried with them. His own burden had been heavy during his captivity, but only because he did not know what sort of fate his dear sister had met. His brother Jasen had told him of his crew’s determination and of their disappointment when their search gained them nothing. Of course, his crew had not suspected David of such a deception. No matter Nicolaus’s assurances that there had been naught they could have done to save him and Desma, he could still see the wary looks on their faces. It was as if they no longer trusted him as their captain and perhaps they shouldn’t.

Xandros danced across the beams connecting the boats as if he were a butterfly flitting from flower to flower with no cares in the world. His second-in-command leaped to the deck. “Their boat is worse than we first imagined, splintered in various places from a battering ram. They’re carrying the weight of the sea. ’Tis why they’re sitting so low.”

Nicolaus pressed his lips together and pulled air in through his nose. “What is it you are not telling me?”

“You’ve allowed the woman out, I see.” Xandros nodded toward Ada. Nicolaus’s gaze followed. She knelt in front of two small children huddled in the corner by themselves and offered them water. “They have nothing but old women and crippled men. The one who acted as helm is a boy of no more than six or seven summers. A fine job he did, but he’s weakened by their days at sea with no sustenance.”

Nicolaus took in the haggard features of the child. The dark circles beneath his eyes and sunken cheeks reminded him of the young boys who’d been enslaved with him. Many of them had been worked until they fell to their deaths.

“What is it you suggest, Xandros?” Although they’d fewer rowers by half the norm, allowing them more room to store merchandise, there was little space left. The lower portions had been filled with goods from all over the Great Sea and bringing these people on board would only cause them problems if they did encounter thieves. It would also slow him down and cost him time. Time he did not possess. The sooner he arrived at his father’s house the easier he would breathe knowing Ada would no longer be at risk, especially since they were not heavily guarded.

“If they continue as they have been they’ll only meet their deaths.”

“Are there no able-bodied men among them?”

The look in his friend’s eyes worried him. What had happened to these people? He dared not ask, yet evidence poked out from all angles, telling him the answer. These people had met with the worst of seafarers. A shout of alarm from one of his men had Nicolaus drawing his dagger from its sheath until he noticed his man carrying a small bundle, and another of his men cradling a small, elderly woman in his arms. His men carried them toward the others and Ada with her golden tresses hanging over her shoulder rushed to attend them. “From what I can gather they left their island when the mountain caught fire.”

Such an occurrence often happened. Many believed it was the gods’ way of punishing the people for not honoring them correctly. Something Nicolaus had long ago given up on. The gods had paid little heed to him when he’d been captured, and he’d never strayed from the rituals to deserve their anger. Not until recently. He would no longer be a pawn in their games. If he denied their existence, they could not abuse their powers over him. “That does not explain where their men have gone.”

“Ay, there were few to begin with. They rushed to the boats in order to save themselves. Many were left behind for there was no room left as I have seen with my own eyes. They had planned to return once the fire disappeared. Instead, thieves came upon them and took one of their ships and all strong enough to labor.”

Nicolaus clenched his teeth together and forced his eyes to remain open. It was as he thought. “They fought well, it seems.”

“Ay, as the nature of their vessel proves. It is unfortunate that those who fought are either dead or now captives,” Xandros said.

Nicolaus’s gut contorted. He’d been victim to such thieves. Their cruelty knew no end. He scanned the waters in search of a threat. However, the waves rose too high, and the rain from the storm kept all else shrouded in mist.

A heavy hand clasped his shoulder. “Do not fret so much, my friend. They’ve been drifting for days.”

Another of his crew carried an old man whose eyes seemed not to see. Perhaps, it was fear that left him with a blank stare. “It is a mercy these were left alive.”

“Ay, a mercy indeed. They’ve been left to fend for themselves with no one to care for them.”

Nicolaus clenched his teeth together. “Will their vessel make it to Joppa for repairs?”

“There is little left to repair.”

“Will it make it to Joppa?” There was little room for the rest of the people to board his vessel. He didn’t relish throwing merchandise overboard but would if need be.

Xandros must have read his thoughts. He nodded his head, and said, “Are you thinking of purchasing another boat and bringing them to our village?”

Nicolaus glanced at his second. “I cannot very well leave them at Joppa if they do not wish to stay. They’ve nowhere to go. No men to support the needs of these people. Our island is large and prosperous. My father has never rejected those in need and would not do so now.”

He had not rejected Nicolaus when he’d arrived after months of captivity a weak and broken vessel with the shame of losing his sister bearing down on his shoulders.

“In that you are correct.”

“And I do not think any of the ports we’ll stop at for provisions will accept them.”

Xandros heaved in a breath. “What of the challenge? If you determine to take them with us, we will not move with the swiftness needed to win. We could be days behind Jasen’s arrival. And what of their provisions? The cost will be no meager sum, my friend.”

Nicolaus bowed his head and closed his eyes. He risked losing. It did not matter if he lost his ship and all the merchandise he’d acquired during the voyage, but if he lost the race he risked the means to move away from his family and the shame of having disappointed his father. He’d lose the ability to search for his sister without his father’s constant watchful eye. And what of Ada? “This I know. What choice do I have? I cannot allow them to continue to a fate unknown.”

“There is no other choice, my friend.” Xandros clapped him on the back. “The sacrifice is much, one not many would give up. Your uncle would be proud.”

Yes, Oceanus would be proud, but what of his father? Would he be proud as well, or would Nicolaus once again see disappointment crinkling the corners of his eyes?

“You have yet to answer my question, Xandros. Will the vessel make it to Joppa?”

White teeth showed through Xandros’s thick beard. His eyes twinkled with mischief. “It is unlikely. However, with me at the command, it has a chance, as slight as it may be. In the event it does not make it, I have no doubt, you will champion us.”

“Order the men to move enough water and cakes of bread for those left on board before we break planks.”

“I fear that may deplete our resources.”

Nicolaus tugged on his beard, and then nodded. “Take what you need. We’ve rationed before. Let us port at Joppa and renew our provisions.”

An alarm from Brison drew his attention. Nicolaus left Xandros and climbed onto the command post. The sea rose on the horizon, rushing toward them. At their current angle the wave would roll them. “Break the planks, now!”

Xandros ran across to the other ship as the men removed the planks bridging the vessels. If they had moved all the women and children there would be no need to save the other boat, but they’d only transferred a few. “Euclid!” he called to his helmsman. “Turn the ship toward the south until we are facing the wave. Raise the anchors.”

The cry of an infant reminded him that Ada, along with several of the women and children, remained on the deck. If the boat rolled... “Brison, move them all below, huddle them in the center around the mast. Go with haste.”

He tied a rope around his waist as did his two armed warriors, Haemon and Argos, standing guard on either side of the command post’s platform. Nicolaus glanced at the other boat. A few of his men remained with Xandros.

Nicolaus could only hope his friend’s natural ability with the sea would keep them well. “Tell the rowers to push forward. We must get in front of the other boat in order to take the brunt of the wave.” He clenched his teeth together knowing he risked the lives on his vessel to protect those on the weaker, but it was his duty. They were all under his protection. Nicolaus glanced at the other boat and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a few oars maneuvering it backward in order to fall in line behind him. Nicolaus wouldn’t question the appearance of the oars or the providence that had left several of his men on the other boat. He was thankful that there was hope for the other ship’s survival, if it held together against the wave.

Even with the cry of the babe and the soft cooing of Ada’s voice as Brison ushered her toward the back of the ship, an eerie silence settled over them. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the blue wall as it rushed toward them, daring it to crash over the bow. His jaw twitched in irritation. Could their situation possibly get worse? Ay, he knew it could, but he hoped it wouldn’t. “Almighty God of creation, my uncle believes in Your existence, I dare not test You lest You see us all washed into the sea, but if You are real, if You are living and breathing as Oceanus believes You to be, as Ada believes You to be, then I beseech You, save us.”

The bow rose, lifting the bronze battering ram toward the murky sky. Nicolaus gripped the rail in front of him and dared the sea to take his ship, his crew and Ada from him. He would not see defeat this day. He would not. Could not. Assurance flooded his being, puffing out his chest. He held on to that thin thread of confidence as the wave lifted them high.

Chapter Six

Ada handed the babe down to the waiting arms of a gruff-looking sailor standing on the stairs, her queasy stomach forgotten in the face of a greater need. She glanced toward the other boat. The arms and faces of the men in the small fishing vessel, including Nicolaus’s friend Xandros, strained with each push and pull of the oars as it moved backward. Nicolaus shouted out a command, and Ada grasped hold of the rail to keep from falling as the force of their own vessel moved forward.

She brushed her hair from her eyes and stared at their captain. With his arms crossed, Nicolaus stood like a sentry near the city gates. Yet, he was much bigger for he hadn’t the thick walls to offer him protection from the enemy. Nor had he an army to stand beside him. Only two warriors with shields at their backs and swords at their sides. Daggers hung from Nicolaus’s leather belt. What kind of man stood against the sea as if to do battle?

An honorable one, no doubt. One who fought for those under his protection. Including the strangers in the hold. Including her, a mere slave. Had her father cared for his slaves in such a manner? Considering how he left her mother to die at the demands of his wife, she did not think so.

“Ada, you must get below.” Brison’s words must have carried on the wind for Nicolaus turned his head. The hard set of determination etching his jaw stole her breath. If the raging sea were a man it would, no doubt, beg for mercy. “He’s a good sailor, Ada. You’ve no need to worry that we’ll all drown.”

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