Her Pirate Master

by Tula Neal

  “What are you talking about? I told you we need to fix her up.”

  “Yes, I know but . . . “ Should she tell him what the old woman had said? Would he think she was crazy? “I . . . we’ve got to get to Delos as soon as we can. We can’t stay here.”

  “Why not? I don’t understand.” He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand and scowled. Sweat beaded his forehead. He’d stripped off his tunic and wore only linen trousers like those of the Carthaginians. Imi did her best to ignore his bare chest or how his muscled skin gleamed in the sun.

  “It is dangerous to stay.” Would the Nereids be able to send the storm against them on land, or would they have to wait until the galley put out to sea?

  “Why?”

  She glared at him. All these questions. Why couldn’t he just take her word for it and do as she asked?

  “You do not believe in the gods,” she snapped. “It would be useless to explain.”

  “Try anyway.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her further away from the others. “Say what you’ve got to say.”

  “Are you going to believe me?” He was so close she could smell him, smell that peculiar scent of oils, sea, and perspiration that was his alone.

  “I won’t know that until you tell me what’s going on. I can only promise to hear you out.”

  Imi nodded. That was fair enough.

  “When I came out from the cabin and saw the storm, I immediately sensed there was something wrong with it, that it was evil.” Seleucus’s eyes widened. “I know,” she said. “I know you’re not a believer, but there are gods and powers out there and they do not always mean us well, whatever we think of them. After you told me to take the prisoners inside, I went over to them. They had seen something in the sea that scared them, and when I looked I saw it, too.” His face was a mask of disbelief. “It was a creature called a Nereid—not a woman, nor a fish, but half of each. It wanted me dead and had called up the storm to sink the ship and drown us all.” She left out how the Nereid had called her name and the strange compulsion she’d felt to go to the creature.

  “Why, Imi? Even if I grant that there is such a thing and that you saw it, why would it wish you harm?”

  Imi took a deep breath and his scent assailed her anew, almost staggering her with the need to reach out and touch him. She’d already told him so much, what would be the harm in telling him everything?

  “The gods of Rome love not the gods of foreign countries,” she said, curling her fingers into her hands. “Neither do they love their devotees.” It was not the whole truth, but it was as much as she dared give him.

  “You’re saying this thing, this Nereid, wants you dead just because you’re a priestess of Isis?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it failed, didn’t it? You’re still here, so why should we worry?”

  “If we wait here overlong, they’ll return and we may not survive another onslaught.” Her voice shook. “Let’s go. Let’s leave before they recover and come back.”

  His expression softened. “You really believe all this, don’t you?”

  “It’s true; I swear to you.” She had to make him understand. “I’m not lying. The Nereids are real.”

  “You said these creatures need time to recover. Did raising the storm weaken them?”

  “Yes,” she said, and begged forgiveness of the Goddess for the lie. If she told him a crocodile had fought to save them, he’d surely think she’d lost complete hold of her senses. She knew she wasn’t thinking logically, but she didn’t care.

  “Well, we can’t leave now. The men have had no rest, and I cannot ask them to load everything back on again without risking their just wrath.”

  “Tomorrow, then. We can leave tomorrow.”

  “No.”

  Imi could have wept.

  “The day after. That’s when we’ll go—the men will have had some rest, we’ll make the small repairs, mend the sails. It won’t be as good as a proper careening, but it will be better than nothing. Will that do?”

  “It will have to since you refuse to go now.” She’d meant to sound gracious, but it came out surly. Seleucus grinned.

  “Strange these Nereids waited until you left Rome to attack you instead of trying to get you while you were there or when you were on your way in.” He raised his eyebrows at her, inviting a response.

  Imi shrugged. He was clever. Very clever. She must never forget that.

  “There’s no accounting for the will of spirit creatures,” she said, demurely.

  “Nor of humans,” he agreed. She caught the twinkle in his eyes before he strode away. Imi took a deep breath, indulging herself with this most ephemeral of pleasures before the pirate’s scent was completely dispersed by the wind.

  Later, after they’d eaten a supper of fresh baked fish, he took some rough linens from a chest that had been in his cabin and made a sleeping area for them apart from the others not far from where she’d seen the old woman.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked, his hand linked in hers.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “That I’d like few things better than a sea bath right now.”

  “No more than a few things?” she teased.

  “Actually only one,” he replied, pulling her into him. “And I think, if you are willing, I can have my honeycake and eat it, too.”

  “Oh?” She pretended not to understand him, but his closeness, his words, had already lit the flame of desire in the pit of her stomach.

  “Take off your clothes,” he said, his voice thickened with need. “I want you to bathe with me.”

  “As you command.” But she wanted it, too. All day she had longed for this, for him.

  In seconds they were naked and walking into the water. It was warmer than she’d expected, but her nipples tautened and goose pimples rose along her arms.

  “Have you ever gone at night into the sea like this?” he asked. “With a lover?”

  “No.”

  Her answer pleased him. He still doubted she was a temple whore, but he couldn’t deny her sexual experience. Not after the way she’d pleasured him, so it pleased him to think that swimming naked below the stars was something new to her. If she left him at Ephesus, if he couldn’t hold on to her, at least she would remember this night and think of him.

  “Come.” He drew her out of the shallows. “Can you swim?”

  “Not well. But I can float.”

  “Show me.”

  Without a word she pushed herself back, allowing the water to cushion her like the softest of mattresses. Her breasts bobbed gently as her arms floated out from her side. Seleucus’s breath caught in his throat.

  “Are you sure you’re not some spirit creature yourself?” he asked, his voice guttural, almost harsh.

  She laughed and fiddled the water with her fingers. Floating had come naturally to her as a child, but the water had to be calm or she couldn’t do it.

  “Why would I have let you capture me if I am?”

  “Like you said, spirit creatures doubtless have their own reasons for doing things. As a mere mortal, I couldn’t hope to understand you.” He lifted his hand and skimmed it over her flat belly. He palmed one breast then the other, noting the feel of her pebbly nipples. She closed her eyes to the stars and gave herself up to pure sensation. When he bent over her, she felt the heat of him. His kiss was as gentle as a moth’s wings, but when she opened her mouth his tongue darted in, tasting, exploring. Nothing existed for her but his kiss. Her whole being was focused on his lips, his tongue, his warm breath. He slid his hand down her stomach, through the coil of wiry hair at her crotch. His fingers found her swollen clitoris, convulsing her body. Her eyes flew open and met his. In the light of the half–moon, she wasn’t sure what she read in them: confusion, tenderness, or simple lust.

  He circled her clit lazily, the lightest of pressures, barely there. Ribbons of heat rippled through her body. Something bumped against her side. Panic hit her, and then sh
e realized it was his erection, which stretched and pushed into her.

  “Do you like this?” he asked, wanting to hear her say it.

  “Yes,” she said, easily, simply. “Very much.” She reached up for him, sparkling droplets falling from her arms like jewels. Gripping him around his neck, she climbed onto him.

  “I want to . . . I want. . . “ She breathed in his ear, her need making her voice shake. Then in the next minute she threw herself backward, the water fountaining up around her as she flailed toward the shallows. He caught her before she reached the shore and pulled her into him.

  “Shush,” he whispered as she sobbed.

  “I . . . I want to, but I cannot.” Her words came out in heaving spurts. “My oath.”

  “I know. Hush. Hush.” He held her close, murmuring into her hair, willing himself to limpness but failing. When her sobs gave way to the occasional hiccup, he bent down, scooped up a handful of sand, and began to rub her gently down starting at her shoulders, working his way to her hands, her breasts, her stomach, her legs. After he was done, he rinsed the sand off her.

  Without a word, he picked her up and carried her higher up on the beach. He put her down, and then with a low moan he sank to his knees in front of her. Imi pushed herself up on her elbows, panting slightly, and watched him. She was so tense with excitement, she almost yelled when his warm tongue touched her clit. Pleasure stabbed through her. She opened her legs wide, as wide as she could, thrusting her hips down into his face. His hands slipped under her bottom. He lifted her up to him, licking and sucking at her folds, then swirling his tongue around her clit. Imi dug her fingers into his hair, her eyes closed, her back arched. Seleucus felt her clit jump. A second later, her come, thick and vaguely salty, flowed over his tongue. Gently, slowly, he licked up every drop.

  Chapter Six

  Imi watched the long warehouses that ringed the harbor at Delos grow slowly more defined. They had made it. The thought was like a fierce song within her. Seleucus had been optimistic about just how long the ‘minor’ repairs, as he termed them, would take. Five days had come and gone before they were finally able to set sail. Imi never saw the mysterious old woman again, but she had kept an eye out for the Nereids and offered daily prayers to Isis for her safety and that of Seleucus and all on board his ship. Once, she thought she’d glimpsed something beneath the waves, a dark, half–human figure, but the distant gray clouds that had blotted out the rising sun never offered more than light rain. Perhaps the old woman had underestimated the wounds the divine crocodile had inflicted on his enemies. Imi hoped that the success of that skirmish between the Roman gods and the ancient gods of the United Lands boded well for her own mission and for Arsinoe’s future.

  Strong, muscular arms slipped around her waist.

  “Seleucus,” she breathed, leaning back against his now–familiar muscular length. They stood like that, silent, as the ship drew ever closer to land. Scores of ships of all sizes bobbed on the waves around them.

  “Have you been to Delos before?” Seleucus asked, taking the opportunity to nibble on her ear.

  “No, but my father’s ships often came here to trade grain for silks and spices from the East, so I have heard much about it.” Even as she said it, she scanned the harbor in vain for a ship decorated with the protective wings of Isis. It had been five years since she’d seen either her father or any of his ships. She hadn’t really expected to find what she sought, but, even so, a twinge of sadness teared her eyes.

  “The Romans think Rome is the center of the world,” Seleucus muttered, “but it is at Delos that everything happens. Anything can be bought or sold here.”

  Imi turned in his arms to look at him. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he looked at the town.

  “I do not think we’ll have trouble selling our cargo. These ships have come from as far away as Antioch and Carales. My darling, what is it?” He had only then realized her mood.

  Imi shook her head, not wanting to put into words all that she felt over the loss of her family, her exile, the uncertainty of her future. Even if Arsinoe managed to rally an army against her sister, Cleopatra had the might of Rome behind her. There was no guarantee Arsinoe would win. She had lost before despite being the one chosen of the gods.

  “We won’t stay here long,” Seleucus said, his eyes dark with concern as he looked at her. “Two nights at the most, and then we’ll be on our way again. To Ephesus. Two nights. That’s not that long, is it?”

  “No.” She supposed it wasn’t, but she would have given anything to be there already, to have completed her mission. But that would mean telling Seleucus good–bye. Seleucus with his beautiful, gleaming skin and broad smile. The man who held her so tenderly at night he made her feel almost as if she’d found her home, a refuge where she was safe and nothing could ever harm her.

  “What will you . . .”

  “Oy.” A shout interrupted her.

  “Oy. I was thinking you were deaf.” A man stood on a small lighter, shading his eyes as he looked up at them. “The dock’s all filled up, but I can get your things ashore, no problem, for ten sesterces. Flat rate.”

  “Ten!” Seleucus exclaimed. “I’ll pay you seven.”

  “It’s ten or I charge three per trip.”

  “Ten, it is.” To Imi, he murmured, “That’s not actually a bad price. I think I paid double that as a flat rate the last time I was here. He must be new.”

  For the next few hours, the pirates loaded their goods on to the lighter. The captive men and women went first, and Seleucus dispatched Sahman and a couple other men ashore with them to oversee the rest of the unloading and make sure the lighterman was not in cahoots with thieves. When the last of the articles they’d seized in their raid had been dispatched, Seleucus turned to Imi.

  “Do you wish to stay aboard until I return?” he asked. “Three crewmen will remain with the ship. You will have it almost to yourself.”

  Imi glanced around. With all the captives gone and all of the cargo, the ship looked completely different. Bare. Meanwhile, the shore, like the harbor itself, teemed with activity. People hurried here and there, shouting to each other, and dogs barked. Imi felt she needed to be ashore, not alone with her thoughts.

  “I’d like to take a look around Delos, if I may.”

  “You’re not my prisoner, Imi.” He cupped her chin, locking gazes with her. “I’ll not deny that was my first intention, but we’ve gone far beyond that now, you and I.”

  Beyond it to what, she wanted to ask him, but nearby one of his sailors cleared his throat.

  “It’s time we push off, Captain,” the man said, sounding apologetic. “The day’s near half–gone.”

  “Indeed it is. Come.” Seleucus grabbed her hand and helped her climb overboard and into the smaller boat.

  On shore, the noise of the people on the dock and in the adjacent courtyards fronted by the warehouses rose to a clamor.

  “I am going to explore,” Imi shouted into Seleucus’s ear.

  “Take this.” He shoved a small cloth purse into her hand. Imi could feel the outline of several coins through the thick fabric. “Do not get lost,” he said, half–jokingly. “But if you do, I will come look for you.”

  Imi threw her arms around him and held him tight. How could she explain to him what she felt there, surrounded by scores of busy, indifferent people? She was a complete stranger to them. Nobody else on the island would care if she disappeared off the face of the Earth.

  “Don’t lose me,” she said, fiercely. “Don’t lose me.”

  He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers, in a kiss both firm and gentle. Imi groaned and opened her mouth to his. Desire flamed. She felt his erection beneath his clothes and moved her hips against him.

  Seleucus broke away first and grabbed her hands in his, panting slightly.

  “Go,” he said, pushing her. “I have things I must attend to. You are un . . . I . . .” His hand rose to her cheek and, for a moment, she saw something flic
ker in his eyes, uncertainty, concern, she wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, it was gone in an instant, replaced by something close to resentment, even anger. His face hardened.

  “No. By Attis.” He spun around without another word and left her there, trembling, feeling as if the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She didn’t understand what had just happened. One minute he was kissing her and then the next he was swearing at her. Swearing anyway, even if it hadn’t been exactly at her. She watched his rigid back disappear into the crowd. She would have liked to run after him and make him tell her what the matter was, but she didn’t. Men did not think like women, she had noticed. Where women liked to discuss things, men appeared to prefer to keep their thoughts and opinions to themselves. Even the eunuchs of her acquaintance were like that, secretive and close–mouthed. They hoarded their words like pearls. She would just have to let Seleucus work out whatever plagued him on his own.

  She turned her attention to Delos. It was unlike any city Imi had been to. Almost every building seemed devoted to commerce. As she walked through the cobbled streets, she saw cones of sugar from India, bronze daggers from the mountain regions of the East, jars from Scythia, carpets from Turkey, and elaborately carved silver bowls from Persia. It was the gold bracelets embedded with amethysts that made her catch her breath at one stall, however. A sharp stab of homesickness brought tears to her eyes and curled her hands into fists. The bracelets were made in the Egyptian style – bands of amethyst alternated with thin bands of gold. The merchant had other Egyptian things as well, small ivory figurines of Isis and Bastet, alabaster perfume pots in the shape of lotus flowers, scarab pendants.

  “Ma’am.” The merchant, a small, smiling man with curly black hair, clapped his hands to get her attention. Imi blinked and roused herself. “Do you see something you like? I have only items of the highest quality, made by the best craftsmen in the world.”

  “No.” Imi shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  She hurried away, arguing with herself. She should have asked him who his supplier was, found out if he knew her father or had news of him. But her questions would have inspired some of his own. He wouldn’t have answered her freely without wanting to know who she was or why she was interested. In any case, she wasn’t sure she really wanted any answers to her questions. If she didn’t know for sure, she could keep hoping her father and her family lived on in Alexandria, perhaps in reduced circumstances but surviving. Imi gritted her teeth as she realized her whole life since Arsinoe’s uprising was built on a flimsy foundation of hope. Hope that Arsinoe would prevail had become hope that they would escape from the Romans, which, in turn, had become hope that Arsinoe could yet still reclaim what so many believed was hers. With the holy articles in her possession, Arsinoe hoped to persuade Marc Antony of her right to the throne and win the support of her people. The ancient gods of Egypt were on Arsinoe’s side. They had defeated the Nereids. Surely they would defeat Arsinoe’s enemies once and for all and grant her a long and triumphant reign over the United Lands. It had to be so. If not, Imi and her family would have sacrificed everything and gained nothing.