Love Inspired Historical July 2015 Box Set: The Marriage AgreementCowgirl for KeepsThe Lawman's RedemptionCaptive on the High Seas

by Renee Ryan

  “Somehow word reached him at Rhodes that your father’s sons were sailing the seas. He’s been searching for you and Jasen. He’s demanding your father make good on his promise to provide him with a bride.”

  “I have no other sisters.”

  The corner of Xandros’s eye twitched. “I am only the messenger.”

  “It is a blessing I have no women on board.”

  Xandros held his tongue, but Nicolaus could tell he had words he wished to speak. “What is it?”

  “Ada.”

  “She is mine.” Nicolaus flinched at the forcefulness of his own words. “I intend to set her free once we return to Andros.” He’d hoped to find her a family here in Joppa, but with Knosis on the prowl…

  “If Knosis discovers you purchased her…”

  Nicolaus clenched his hands around the railing. He wouldn’t allow Knosis to claim Ada as his own. “We cannot make port. We’ll stay the evening here and then leave at first light.”

  “What of the repairs?”

  “I have no other choice. Although the woman drives me mad and I was ready to throw her to the sea only moments ago, I cannot leave her to such a fate. I’d rather endure another year of slavery myself.”

  “Nicolaus, are you certain?”

  “Ay.” Nicolaus’s shoulders slumped.

  “I thought as much, ’tis why I purchased more supplies.” Xandros grinned.

  “My thanks, my friend.”

  “What will you do when we make port at Rhodes? If Knosis has his men looking for you—”

  “I have a few days to consider my actions. Perhaps we shall port at Phaphos instead.” The tension in his shoulders began to relax as did his anger with Ada. He’d prove to her he was an honorable and kind man and no longer a seafaring thief come to demand her affections, not that he ever had need of stealing affections from women, nor would he. Still, it remained, the Sea Dragon was long dead. “What of the wet nurse?”

  “She’s young with no home of her own and willing to leave Joppa.”

  Nicolaus clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You did well, my friend.”

  “Now—” Xandros laughed “—tell me how you’ve come to wear this latest adornment. Is that honey on your tunic? Are those dates?”

  Chapter Eleven

  A bird’s cry pierced through Ada’s sleep, causing the pounding in her head to worsen. She pressed the tips of her fingers to her temples and drew in a breath. Her throat rebelled against the salty air, and she coughed. Her lungs burned with the spasm. She blinked her eyes open. The wooden canopy, so unlike the stone ceiling at her home, hovered above her. Much to her surprise she had had a good eve’s sleep, even with the constant rocking, the song of the waves and the ever increasing aches in her body. How was she to hold the babe this day with her arms so weak?

  Sitting up, she curled her legs beneath her and coughed. The pounding in her head turned to a roar. She was tempted to lie back down and close her eyes, but it was well past daybreak. She rubbed at her eyes and tried to focus. The babe was nestled beneath a sheep’s blanket, the wet nurse curled beside him. Edith huddled in a corner next to the young boy who sought to protect her.

  Their tunics were nothing more than filthy rags. If Nicolaus approached her, she’d find a way to ask after the children’s needs, especially since their people had taken their boat and rowed into Joppa, leaving the three in Nicolaus’s care. After what she’d said to Nicolaus last eve about stealing her affections, she had doubt Nicolaus would even speak to her again, which was fine with her. The more he kept his distance the better for her to keep her resolve. She would not become like her mother. No matter how much she wanted to seek out Nicolaus and his friendship.

  A friendship was something she could accept. However, anything more was impossible. Her heart would never heal from the pain, not after she’d witnessed her mother’s shame and the constant heartache forced upon her by Ada’s father. Always loving, never loved. She rose from her bedding. Her knees wobbled, threatening to collapse. She braced her hand against the wall to keep from falling and drew in a few concentrated breaths until the dizziness abated. As soon as she thought she was no longer in danger of falling she slipped between the linen draped over the helmsman’s perch. Another of Nicolaus’s thoughtful acts of kindness to give her and the wet nurse privacy from his sailors’ prying eyes.

  Soft early morning light bathed the earth. Although more beautiful than she could have imagined, the brightness was like a blade to her skull. She stumbled toward the rail and squinted against the piercing light. The reflection of the sky rippled with each of the waves, distorting the perfect image. Yet, somehow it was just as beautiful if not more so.

  Shivers raced down her neck and over her arms as a breezed brushed over her. She readjusted her shawl, pulling it tighter to ward off the chill in the air. It was a shame she could not stand near Nicolaus since he always seemed to bring warmth with him. She glanced toward the captain’s post and lost her breath as she locked eyes with him. The distance between them did little to dispel the intensity of Nicolaus’s gaze. It threatened to consume her. Her resolve of never being friends strengthened, but how could she even be enemies with him if he evoked such a reaction from her with just a look?

  Tearing her gaze away, she rushed back to the alcove and slipped between the linen. She dropped onto her bedding, drew her knees in to her chest and then pulled the covers around her shoulders. What was she going to do? Beg him to send her home, back to the cruelty of her sisters and the neglect of her father? Could she go back to living under their constant rejection knowing such kindness existed with Nicolaus? Certainly it was better than being a slave, a slave falling for her master.

  Would his kindness be enough?

  “Lord, how am I to be content either way? If I go home I will always long for Nicolaus’s kindness and laughter. If I stay, I will always long for something he will not give.”

  Perhaps she should have pleaded with the villagers to take her to Joppa. She shook her head. The pounding increased, making her stomach feel ill once again. She pulled her legs in tighter to her chest and buried her forehead against her knees. She would not have asked them to risk Nicolaus’s wrath, and she did not think he would grant permission given he’d paid such a high price for her.

  A shout boomed from the helmsman’s perch above her. The boat lurched into motion, knocking Ada onto her side. The vessel continued to lurch, turning and leaning, and lurching again with each tug of the oars. They were heading away from Joppa where she’d hoped to find solid ground and an end to her constant illness. Away from her last chance at freedom from Nicolaus.

  She knew from Xandros, when he spoke to the older women last eve, that Nicolaus had chosen not to sail into the port in order to fix the mast. The repairs would have taken days, time Nicolaus did not have. She couldn’t help the disappointment weighing on her shoulders. If Nicolaus would have taken them ashore while the repairs were made perhaps she could have found a messenger to send word to her father. And mayhap her father would have tried to rescue her from such madness. If he was inclined to do so.

  According to Brison, who’d been speaking with another sailor, Nicolaus wished to make haste in hopes of beating his twin home in a challenge set by their father. It seemed as if Nicolaus’s voyage was naught but a game, one he intended to win at any cost. She would have thought nothing of it except for the wagers made between Nicolaus’s brother and the sailor.

  If what she’d heard was true, Nicolaus had much to gain if he won and nothing to lose if he didn’t. It stood to reason that was why he sailed into the storm. Did Nicolaus care so little about the cost of his wares that he’d lose them to the sea? She’d seen the multitude of crates, earthenware jars and the amphora jugs that hung in the lattice lining the walls of the ship. It was worth a king’s ransom. A small one, but it made her father, one of the wealthiest men near Ashkelon, look destitute in comparison.

  The one thing she was having problems believing was Nicolaus�
��s lack of concern for his men. Was he so callous, so ruthless to put his men’s lives at risk just to win a game? Her father would have been so focused on the prize that he wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but all that she’d seen of Nicolaus proved otherwise.

  The babe whimpered, pulling Ada from her thoughts. She scooted toward him and smiled. “Hello there. I suppose you’re in need of fresh swaddling.”

  “I can do that,” Chloe said as she yawned. Ada didn’t mind changing the infant, she even wanted to, but the wet nurse seemed eager. Besides, the weakness invading Ada’s limbs was worsening by the moment.

  Ada sat back on her mat and leaned her head against the wall while Chloe cared for the babe. Chloe picked him up and readied him to feed. Ada looked to her lap and entwined her fingers into the folds of her tunic. The sting of longing for her own child made her sad.

  “What is his name?” Chloe asked.

  Ada snapped her gaze to the woman and the suckling child. The movement renewed the aches, and she pressed her hand to her head. “I—I don’t know.”

  “Is he not yours?”

  “No. He was on the boat with the women that were here last eve.” She nodded toward the sleeping children in the corner. “The girl is his sister. Their mother was taken by sea thieves. The women wanted naught to do with him.”

  “As sad as it seems, I do not blame them,” Chloe said as she brushed her hand over the babe’s brow. “They’ve not the means to care for him. Their only choices were to let him die or be sold into slavery. One offers more freedom over the other.”

  Ada pulled her lip in between her teeth. She understood that truth more than she wanted. Although she never said as much, Ada knew her mother longed for freedom from slavery. Was that why she gave up to death so easily?

  “They granted him a mercy by leaving him with you.”

  Knitting her eyebrows together, Ada asked, “Why do you say that? I’ve not the means to care for the child.” No matter how much she wanted to. “I am nothing more than a slave myself.”

  Chloe’s eyes grew wide. “I do not understand. The captain does not treat you as a slave.”

  “Yet that is what I am.” Ignoring the throb in her head, Ada stood and peeked between the pieces of linen. Nicolaus was where she’d last seen him commanding his ship. He seemed more at home on the open water than she’d ever felt under her father’s household. “Two hundred pieces of silver and a cask of olive oil is what he paid for me.”

  Chloe gasped. “That price is unheard of.”

  Ada glanced at her over her shoulder, wondering how this woman knew as much.

  “My father owned many slaves. I often traveled to market with him. He never paid more than a few pieces of silver.” Chloe lifted the babe to her shoulder and began patting his back. “And never more than twenty for a woman.”

  Ada dropped her hand from the linen, allowing it to fall back into place, and turned to fully face the wet nurse. “You think I should see the high price as an honor?”

  Chloe glanced back at the babe, her cheeks pink.

  “Yester morn, I was the daughter of a wealthy merchant whose sisters suffered jealousy, for what reason I cannot discern other than my mother was my father’s slave. Last eve, I found myself with a master. Although kind, he still owns me, owns my will and my freedom.”

  “He does not look at you as a master a slave, but as a man who loves a woman,” Chloe said.

  “He has not known me long enough to love me.”

  “Sometimes—” Chloe drew the tip of her finger over the babe’s brow and then glanced at Ada “—all it takes is one look. It was that way with my husband. One look and he knew, as did I, that we loved each other. Although it did take him some time to convince me that my feelings were love.”

  Was it possible to know love with one glance? And what had happened to Chloe’s husband to make her leave her home? Before she could ask, Ada began to cough and stumbled from the alcove so as to not disturb the children. It was just as well. She did not wish to hear falsehoods of love upon first sight. She knew nothing of love, knew nothing of how it looked or how it felt. All she knew was the confusion in her thoughts and her heart whenever he was near. She twisted her lips. Why did she insist on telling herself lies? Nicolaus agitated her even when he was not around.

  She walked to the edge, leaned her head against the wooden rail and closed her eyes. If she didn’t have to contend with the seasickness, as Nicolaus called it, she’d most certainly be able to think with a clear mind and be able to fight the pull the captain had on her heartstrings.

  Nicolaus called out a command, and then the helmsman picked up the pace of his cadence. The rowers chanted. The vessel lurched with more force than she had experienced thus far, knocking her feet out from under her. Her head slammed against the deck. With her ears ringing, she stared at the morning sky until her eyes slid shut.

  *

  “Ada,” Nicolaus hollered as he jumped down from his post and raced across the planks. He had hoped to avoid her until they had reached the next port, but his gaze kept falling to where he knew she slept. He’d somehow known when she woke, for anticipation filled him, waiting for her to appear. He’d been ready to seek her out to see how she’d fared the night when she’d stepped out onto the deck that first time.

  Her unkempt hair poking at odd angles from her head put a hunger in his belly unlike any he’d known. He’d wanted to stalk over to her, pull her into his arms and smooth his hand over her hair and press his mouth to the top of her head. An entire vessel between them must not have been enough distance to guard his feelings from her since she’d run back to the alcove. If he hadn’t been so captivated by her he would have noticed her pale, sunken cheeks and the way she shivered in the warmth of the morning.

  Kneeling beside her, he shook her shoulder. “Ada. Ada, wake up.”

  He leaned closer to her mouth. Tiny breaths of air puffed against his ear.

  “Is she all right?”

  Nicolaus glanced up to see Xandros standing behind him. “Her skin burns. I need linens and water. See if we have any willow on board.”

  He scooped her limp body into his arms and rose. He pulled her tighter to his chest and rested his cheek against her forehead. “I should have forced her to eat and drink.”

  “This is not your doing, Nicolaus.” Xandros tipped his chin toward her. “If I remember correctly, you tried and ended up wearing her meal.”

  “The willow, please.” Nicolaus hastened toward his quarters, climbed the ladder and laid her on the cushioned bench. His pulse slammed against the wall of his chest as if he were about to go into battle. Ships he knew and could sail the Great Sea with linens over his eyes. Spears and swords he knew and could combat with the best Greek warriors, but this, whatever ailment she suffered was beyond his knowing.

  Nicolaus bowed down. Grasping her hand, he lifted it to his cheek and rubbed it against his beard before holding her knuckles to his lips.

  “What have I done?” he whispered, and then closed his eyes. “If there is an Almighty God, make Yourself known.”

  Ada made a soft groaning sound. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing glazed emptiness. It was as if she was passing from this life. Nicolaus’s heart stopped, fearful that she had done just that, but then she curled into a ball and began to shiver. Waves upon waves of shivers shook her, much like the sea had battered his vessel during the storm.

  With great reluctance, her released her hand and took two strides to the door. “Brison! I need blankets, posthaste.” He glanced at her small body in a constant tremble. He had never seen anyone suffer seasickness in such a way, which meant it was another ailment.

  “Nicolaus,” Xandros called from the deck, and the climbed the ladder when Nicolaus moved toward the bench. “I have the blankets, water and linens. Brison is searching for willow. Not an easy task after all was moved around from the storm.”

  “My thanks.” Nicolaus snatched the blankets and covered Ada with several layers. He k
nelt beside the bench and ran his hands over her head.

  “How is it she is cold? The temperature is warm.”

  “I do not know. I have heard of such sickness, but I do not know the whys of it.” He raked a shaking hand down his face. “My mother always used willow in warm water to halt our fevers when we were children. I remember once when Desma was a mite, Mother would not allow us to see her. The servants prepared willow for her. My father’s sadness was mournful. His joy overflowed when Desma recovered. ’Tis why my father was beside himself when she was taken.”

  “Nicolaus, you cannot take blame. Your father was sending her to Knosis and would have never seen her again.”

  “He was doing as he thought best. It is our way. You know this. Knosis is one of the wealthiest men. He would have provided well for her.”

  “With a nice tomb, no doubt.”

  “Xandros, please. I know you are correct. It is of little use to argue since Desma is no longer with us.” He brushed his hand over Ada’s damp brow. The heat of her skin was worrisome. He stood and glanced out the window. Although only half a day, there was still many leagues between them and the next port. However, if they turned around— He faced Xandros. “I would have a healer for her. We should return to Joppa.”

  “You risk running into Knosis.”

  “Captain!”

  Nicolaus leaned out the door at his brother’s urgent call and followed the line of his pointing finger. “How many?”

  “Three, maybe more,” Brison replied.

  Nicolaus muttered a few curses beneath his breath and paced toward Ada, his arms crossed over his chest as Xandros poked his head out the door.

  “It seems we’re about to meet with him now,” Nicolaus said.

  “Ay, that it does, Captain.”

  Chapter Twelve

  He was in a raging squall if there ever was one. Brison had not lied when he said there were three ships. All of which were heavily armed and surrounding his own vessel. His fingers itched to draw his sword, but such an act would be certain death. Not only for him, but for his entire crew.