Faithful Heart (The Von Wolfenberg Dynasty Book 3)

by Anna Markland

  “I’m concerned the Fatimids may have gone berserk after my attack,” he admitted.

  “But it’s too quiet.”

  As the hull loomed out of the mist, Kon spotted three bodies floating in the water. Given the turbans and robes, they couldn’t be anything but Fatimids. “Mayhap I am wrong,” he quipped when Zara gaped, her emerald eyes filled with alarm at the macabre discovery.

  He was relieved when a rope ladder came tumbling over the side. He made sure Zara had a firm hold and was out of danger before hoisting the boy over his shoulder and beginning the ascent behind her.

  Once on the deck, she reached up to hold the body while he climbed aboard.

  He raked his wet hair off his burning eyes, then took the child from her, befuddled that the crew seemed to have disappeared. The captives cowered in the center of the cog, all still chained, except the father of the boy. A second manacle dangled from the one around his wrist. He stared at the corpse, fists clenched, his distorted face wet with tears.

  “Where is everyone?” Kon said, trying to fathom how chained men had done away with three armed Fatimids, the captain, and his entire crew.

  “Loading the spoils onto my ship.”

  They spun around to see Drosik, grinning broadly, hands on hips, one foot braced on the wale.

  Zara gasped in outrage.

  Kon’s gut knotted when he realized the Narentine’s smaller cog was nestled alongside.

  Drosik jumped down onto a rowing thwart. “Well done, priest. You delivered the Nunziata as promised.”

  “This is none of my doing,” he growled, avoiding Zara’s accusing gaze.

  The pirate captain’s laughter came to an abrupt halt when the boy’s father bellowed like a wounded beast. He wrenched his son’s body from Kon’s arms, shoving him hard in the process and leapt over the side into the sea.

  It happened so quickly there was no chance to react. Kon staggered to regain his balance then ran to peer over the side. The wretch had disappeared into the depths. Nausea swept over him. He’d failed to save father and son from a terrible fate— but at least the rest would be free.

  Drosik smirked. “Forget him. One less slave won’t make much difference to my profit.”

  An icy hand gripped Kon’s innards as Zara seethed at his side. “But you swore to deliver them to me.”

  Drosik wiggled his eyebrows and jumped back onto his own vessel.

  “I warned you not to take the word of a pirate,” Zara hissed.

  ~~~

  Prior to sailing away, Drosik deemed it highly amusing to rope Kon and Zara together back to back. Anger throbbed in her aching head. “He’s not going to get away with this. There’s a dagger in my boot.”

  She leaned back against Kon. They were still soaked to the skin, but the warmth of his body had driven away the chill, along with the fury flooding her veins.

  The rest of the crew were tied up in various parts of the cog. The slaves, the bales of cloth, the sacks of salt and the rest of the precious cargo were gone. All that remained were a few oddments of canvas and some of the hides used to protect the goods from the elements.

  Kon expressed his regret over and over for what had happened.

  She struggled with her anger. Someone had to take the blame, but she should perhaps have been more cautious. Ultimately any misfortune that befell a ship was the responsibility of the master. “You are not solely to blame,” she finally reassured him. “It was a litany of errors. We’re fortunate he didn’t kill us and steal the ship.”

  “Not enough men to crew her,” Lupomari shouted from somewhere nearby. “We’re too big to be of use to a pirate.”

  Zara twisted and turned, trying to get a hand loose, but both wrists were tightly bound. “We have to get the weapon and cut the rope. He already has a head start.”

  “Push against me, and we’ll try to stand,” Kon suggested.

  She was glad he hadn’t argued, evidently understanding her desire for revenge.

  Pressing back to back and bracing their legs, they managed to stand.

  “Now, turn to face me,” he said, “and I’ll do the same.”

  It took several long minutes of straining already tired muscles for them to come together, face to face, her breasts pressed against his chest. It wasn’t how she had imagined such a suggestive position coming about.

  Then he smiled and her heart raced. Despite the predicament she allowed her body to melt into his.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known,” he said softly, pressing his hips against her.

  She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, longing for his reassuring kiss.

  Suddenly the rope loosened and fell to the planking. She blinked. Rospo stood beside her, levering the point of a dagger under the rope around her wrists, his big eyes dwarfed only by his wide, toothless grin.

  Kon gaped. “You have a…”

  “Dagger.”

  “How did you..?”

  Rospo cocked his head towards the water. “Hid.”

  “Over the side?” Zara asked in disbelief.

  “Rudder.”

  The resourceful fellow sprang off to free others while she and Kon stared. “He must have jumped in when they boarded and clung to the wood like a limpet,” she said, kicking away the coils of rope.

  “Mayhap Limpet should be his new name,” Kon quipped.

  She laughed, amazed that in the midst of despair and turmoil she still could. “I don’t advise you try it.”

  He snaked his arms around her waist. “You seem to be enjoying this.”

  She clasped his forearms and inhaled deeply. “There’s wind to fill the sail, my crew has a fire in their bellies, I’ve a fine ship beneath my feet, and a courageous man by my side. What more do I need?”

  “Mayhap the weapons from the drowned Fatimids?”

  “Good idea,” she replied. “If Rospo hasn’t already thought of it.”

  Lupomari regained the forecastle. “All hands to your stations. Anchor aweigh. We’ve a pirate to catch.”

  A SIGN

  Hours later, Kon left the tiller in Rospo’s capable hands and obeyed Zara’s summons to meet by one of the rowing benches.

  “We must plot our revenge carefully,” she said as he joined her and Lupomari.

  Kon was frustrated with what seemed to be slow progress. “Can we not go faster?”

  “We don’t want to catch him in the open sea. He’ll simply out-manoeuvre us,” Lupomari explained.

  Zara nodded. “Or throw the cargo overboard and flee.”

  Kon tempered his impatience. “What’s the plan?”

  Zara unfurled a chart and lay it atop the bench, one end tucked under an oar. “My guess is he will sell off some of the booty before proceeding to Bari with the captives. He’ll need coin to buy provisions and his crew will demand more money—selling slaves in Bari’s market is a risky venture when you’re not an established trader. The Fatimids guard their monopoly.”

  Kon pointed to the chart. “Ravenna would be the next port.”

  Zara shook her head. “He won’t go there. It’s a Papal State and they take a dim view of piracy.” She traced her finger along the chart. “Cervia is unlikely since they produce their own salt. Two powerful families control Rimini and he won’t want to tangle with them.”

  “Ancona, then?”

  “Doubtful,” Lupomari replied, scratching his beard. “The Anconian Republic has strong trade routes with Dalmatia and they sell more than they buy. Drosik is probably well known to them and they too don’t tolerate pirates. Bad for business.”

  An eerie certainty crept into Kon’s belly when he examined the chart further. “Termoli?”

  Zara poked the map. “It would be my guess.”

  Lupomari took the chart and rolled it up. “Mine too. I propose we increase our speed and plan to arrive before him.”

  “Agreed.”

  Kon put a hand on the railing and swallowed the lump in his throat as memories assailed him. “I kno
w the town. I was an officer in the imperial army that occupied Termoli during the invasion.” Then he smiled when another thought dawned. “My brother, Lute, married a woman he met in Termoli, Francesca di Cammarata.”

  Zara frowned. “I heard tell of Ruggero of Sicilia’s niece marrying a Saxon count. He’s your brother?”

  “Yes. Emperor Lothair endowed him with lands not far from Wolfenberg as a reward for his services. However, what’s more important, Francesca had a maid from Termoli. Zitella left with her mistress.”

  Lupomari chuckled. “Must have been a man involved.”

  “You’re right, but Zitella’s family probably still lives in Termoli. Her father might be of help to us.”

  Zara pecked a gleeful kiss on his cheek. “This is a sign. God is with us. Set a course for Termoli.”

  The prospect of revisiting the coastal town churned Kon’s innards, but it suddenly struck him like a blow from Thor’s hammer that it was indeed God’s will he go there. It was the last place he’d been Konrad von Wolfenberg, capable imperial soldier, aspiring priest and son of a prominent Saxon noble. His life had fallen apart after he’d marched south to Bari.

  He’d been reborn and was once again in divine hands. Or mayhap he always had been and hadn’t realized it. Was Zara right that his Savior hadn’t abandoned him? He would never be a priest, but renewed pride and honor surged in his veins. What’s more, he had found a beautiful and courageous woman who would make a perfect wife.

  ~~~

  Mixed emotions swirled in Zara’s heart as her beloved cog skimmed the waves. Polani ships had lost cargoes to pirates before, but she couldn’t recall a single instance when they’d pursued the thieves. There were always other cargoes. Her father’s philosophy.

  Drosik hadn’t taken the Nunziata, hadn’t murdered any of her crew. Why was she bound and determined to get back what had been stolen?

  Frequent glances at Kon Wolf manning the tiller, legs resolutely braced, provided the answer. Salt, rope and cloth were replaceable. This was about rescuing and freeing the captives. It had taken a man who doubted the existence of God to open her eyes to the evils of slave trading—she, a devout Christian. She shuddered at the thought that had she not met Kon she might not have tried to save the boy.

  Perhaps she was pursuing Drosik in order to avenge the man she was falling in love with. The pirate had taken advantage of his trusting nature.

  She rejoiced that, by some miracle, the terrible events seemed to have rekindled Kon’s faith, and she sensed he both dreaded and anticipated going to Termoli.

  A troubling notion intruded. If he rediscovered his faith he might turn again to the religious life. She made the sign of her Savior across her body. God would surely strike her dead if she stood in the way of a man becoming a priest.

  NIGHT AT SEA

  In deeper water and with the aid of the stars, the Nunziata sailed through the night with Zara and Lupomari taking turns on the forecastle so no time was lost at anchor. Rospo manned the tiller for the captain.

  With the slaves gone, and the wood scrubbed clean, a piece of canvas was stretched across the area beneath the stern-castle for Zara’s privacy. The hides made a more comfortable bed than the bare planking. She had slept aboard ship before, and didn’t fear the crew, but after several hours on watch she couldn’t settle knowing Kon was close by.

  As if sensing her need of him, he came to the shelter. “Are you asleep?” he whispered.

  “No. Enter.”

  He knelt by her side, pulling one of the skins over her legs. “It’s important to keep warm.”

  She couldn’t see his face clearly in the darkness, but knew how tiring it was to spend hours at the tiller. It was the first time he’d taken on the task at night when winds might change unexpectedly. She cupped her hand to his cold cheek. “You must be exhausted.”

  He pressed his hand against hers. “You too. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable before I slept.” He leaned forward to brush a kiss on her lips.

  She wanted to respond, but was afraid she might be leading astray a man whom God had called to His service. He must have sensed her hesitation. “Sorry. You’re tired.”

  She was a forthright person. There was no point hiding her fears. She sat up. “No. You have a vocation to be a priest. I couldn’t bear…”

  His mouth took possession of hers with a passion that robbed her of breath. There was no choice but to allow his tongue to enter and mate with hers, no choice but to let him breathe for her as his hand cupped her breast.

  A moan of longing surged in her throat, but Rospo was only a few feet above them, the sleeping crew not far away.

  When they broke apart, he nuzzled her ear. “I will never be a priest, Zara. It is you I worship, you I wish to serve. When this is over I want you for my wife.”

  Zara’s father had introduced her to many carefully selected gentlemen, every one eligible, wealthy, handsome. Some had offered for her hand. She’d supposed one day the right man would come along, but hadn’t foreseen a proposal of marriage on a dark night aboard a ship headed into danger.

  Despite her misgivings that she was thwarting God’s plan, the answer came readily. “I will wed with you, Kon Wolf.”

  He kissed her gently then, but the brush of his thumb over her nipple sparked a fire in her loins. She lifted the blanket. “Stay with me,” she murmured in a sultry voice she barely recognized.

  He lay down and gathered her into his arms. “I want you, but I frightened you the last time I…”

  “I’m not afraid now,” she replied, pressing her hand to his hard maleness.

  “You should be.”

  ~~~

  Kon had never burned with desire for a woman. The lustful episode with the slave girl was nothing compared to the fire consuming him for Zara. But he also craved her trust, her love. “I hope you can see my grin in the darkness,” he teased, fearing he had alarmed her.

  She traced a fingertip along his lip. “You make me feel things I have never felt before.”

  He nibbled her finger. “It’s the same for me, but joining our bodies now isn’t what I want. Well, I want it, but it’s not the right time or place. Our first union will be in a sweet smelling bed, and you will be my sweet smelling wife!”

  She nuzzled her nose into his neck and lay one leg across his thigh. “But I ache.”

  “You are a temptress.”

  She thrust her breasts against him. “Touch my nipple again.”

  He lay her down and suckled one nipple then the other through the fabric of her shirt, thrilled when they pebbled readily beneath his tongue. She clamped her hand over her mouth and writhed, lifting her hips.

  “I can relieve the ache,” he rasped, suspecting she didn’t understand what he had in mind, or how apprehensive he was. It was impossible to serve in an army without overhearing other men boast of where women loved to be touched, but he also had his father’s advice to fall back on. The von Wolfenberg children had benefitted from their liberal parents’ insistence they be prepared to give pleasure in the marriage bed. Assuming as a priest he wouldn’t need the knowledge, he wished now he’d paid more attention.

  He moved his hand between her legs, grateful for the male leggings she wore. He pressed against the warmth of her most intimate part and her hips quickly matched the rhythm of his touch. Sensing she was close to release, he covered her mouth with his. His heart rejoiced when she growled her ecstasy into his throat.

  Minutes later, her body went limp, then she curled into him. “I never knew,” she whispered.

  His need was great, but his resolve greater. He thanked God for this woman who was his future, his Holy Grail, the meaning he had been seeking. “Some day I will touch you without leggings between us.”

  She purred her contentment and he suspected she would soon be asleep. “Although,” he quipped, “I foresee a day when more women will wear such attire.”

  There was no response.

  ~~~

  It was still dark
when Kon shook her awake. “I’ll go before dawn breaks.”

  She raised up on her elbows, still half asleep. “Why?”

  “Well…”

  “Kon, my beloved, we are on a ship. The Nunziata may be a large cog, but I can guarantee there isn’t a man aboard who isn’t aware you spent the night here with me.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  She yawned. “They know better than to censure Zara Polani. I pay their wages, and besides, we are betrothed, aren’t we?”

  He kissed her lovingly. “And I want to shout it to the world.”

  “Not here, but perhaps you should relieve Rospo.”

  He stood and stretched his arms wide, making her wish she was still safe in his embrace.

  She purred like a cat after he left. Now she’d known ecstasy she wanted more of it. But then the memory of her dream gave her pause.

  You’re a temptress!

  Mayhap without meaning to, Kon had given voice to her sin. His kiss and his touch had turned her into a wanton who’d encouraged him to break his resolve.

  She’d been born with a strong will. It had made the difference in the survival of her family business, but perhaps her strength would prove to be her weakness.

  LUST

  Now he’d found what he believed to be the key to his happiness, Kon couldn’t get enough of Zara. He watched her every move during the day. Rospo took him to task several times for not having his mind on the tiller when the wind shifted abeam. The man was never outwardly friendly, but Kon sensed a new edge to his abrupt nature.

  Despite a determination not to spend the second night at sea in Zara’s makeshift shelter, he was soon cuddling with her. “We must be more circumspect,” he whispered, even as his mouth latched onto a nipple and suckled.

  She pulled open her shirt and held her breast to his lips, sifting her fingers through his hair. “But I crave your touch.”

  Urged on by her throaty moans, he pulled the garment down to reveal both breasts. He gathered their bounty in his hands and feasted hungrily on each nipple in turn.