Love Inspired Historical July 2015 Box Set: The Marriage Agreement\Cowgirl for Keeps\The Lawman's Redemption\Captive on the High Seas (75 page)

“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

A
da 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.”