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.
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
