by Renee Ryan
Her gaze flitted to his, and she wished she could see their color. He tilted his head and spoke to his companion.
“Three pieces of silver, three omers of barley and four drinks of your finest wine,” her captor called out.
Ada jerked her attention from the beautiful man and back to the burly bidder and the women giggling around him. She closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest as that wayward tear forced its way to her lashes. It was not a fair price, not nearly equal to that of the gold band now gracing her sister’s arm, but she felt the Philistine’s acceptance when he relaxed his hold on her.
How could she accept such a fate? It did not matter. If God chose not to save her she would pray and trust Him to mete out justice upon her sisters. And to comfort her father when she did not return home with them.
“Are we agreed?” The Philistine’s voice bellowed with the power of a crashing wave, causing Ada to jump.
“Ay—” The bidder nodded.
“Two hundred pieces of silver.”
Her head snapped up. She looked into the crowd for her brother, but her gaze somehow settled on the strange man towering above those around him. She drew in a slow breath. Dare she thank God for His mercy, yet?
“Two hundred pieces of silver,” he repeated as he moved. The crowd quieted and parted like the wind blowing grains of sand. He halted in front of her. “Thirty omers of barley and four casks of Greece’s finest olive oil.”
Black. His eyes were the color of charred wood. Certainly they could offer warmth much like dying embers, but they were cold. Angry. His jaw clenched, hard as stone, and fear pricked her nape. Had God heard her prayer and granted her mercy, or had the Creator of the heavens and earth ignored her plea and delivered her into a worse fate?
*
Nicolaus willed calm into his tense muscles and forced the Sea Dragon to slumber. That man had died along with the skirmishes between Greece and neighboring islands. That man had died after he unknowingly sunk a ship filled with innocent people.
The ill treatment of the young woman reminded him of his own time as a slave, worse it reminded him of what he was certain his sister might be enduring. If she was still alive. He would not think on the fact that if he hadn’t killed off the Sea Dragon his sister wouldn’t have been taken from his vessel when his ship was boarded. Then again, it seemed he could lay the blame on the Sea Dragon, but why he was uncertain. Had it been revenge or something else altogether? It was a question David had never answered. All Nicolaus knew was a man he’d once called friend had betrayed him and had been a cruel master, not only to him but to all of his slaves, including the women. No matter how much he tried to ignore the fear, he could not, would not allow another woman to suffer. Not in his presence. Not again.
“What are you doing? You cannot think to use your father’s merchandise to buy a woman, Nicolaus.” His friend and best sailing mate, Xandros, laid a hand on his shoulder. “My friend, we do not have the time nor the resources to rescue maidens.”
Ignoring Xandros and the dark clouds pushing against the sky, Nicolaus spoke to the Philistine who had yet to close his mouth. “Agreed?”
The Philistine’s gaze dropped to the purse resting against Nicolaus’s hip as if he could judge the amount hidden within the leather bag, and then buried his nose against the young woman’s face. “She is clean.” At least that is what Nicolaus thought he’d said. The man’s dialect was thick and heavy as if he’d had too much wine. Of course, Nicolaus was not as familiar with the language of these people as he should be. “Three hundred pieces of silver, a hundred omers of barley and ten casks of your oil.”
The game of bargaining was well known to Nicolaus. His father was among the finest merchants. Resisting the urge to weigh his purse in the palm of his hand, Nicolaus raised his eyebrows as he perused the young woman. He leaned toward Xandros, who spoke the language well. “Tell him there are many women in Greece who are clean and without such—” he made a motion with his hands as he glanced toward the woman “—curves.”
Her lips parted with a soft gasp, and her dark eyes flamed with anger as Xandros repeated his words.
“A hundred pieces of silver. Twenty omers of barley and two casks of olive oil.” Nicolaus crossed his arms over his chest and waited, a tactic he had often used when negotiating with adversaries. After a few moments of silence he turned on his heel to leave.
“A moment.” The Philistine’s words halted him. Nicolaus glanced over his shoulder. The young woman narrowed her gaze toward a spot in the crowd. Following the direction of her angered glare, he saw several young women pointing toward the platform. They seemed to be arguing with the oldest among them. Who were they? Rivals? Had this young woman stolen the affection of a man from them? Possible, but given how similar the one wearing the gold band looked to the woman being auctioned, he wondered if they were of some relation. Cousins, sisters perhaps?
“We have not all day,” Nicolaus said as he turned his attention back to the Philistine. “You have no other bidders vying for this woman.” He flicked a glance toward the first bidder. “None willing to pay what I am. Two hundred pieces of silver and one cask of oil. It is a fair price and more than the piece of jewelry you traded her for.”
It did not take much to discern the trade, not when the one woman guarded the ornament with a raised brow and a smirk, and so he opted for his original bid of silver in an effort to halt all haggling. After dealing with the Philistine merchants in Ashkelon most of the day, he was done and ready to set his oars to the water. He was ready to return to his island home in Greece.
A low growl emitted from the Philistine. The hand grasping the woman’s hair shook, pulling her hair if the signs of discomfort forming around her mouth and the lone tear were any indication. It took all of Nicolaus’s will not to jump onto the platform and release the woman. The Sea Dragon would have and he was certain he would have, too, if the auctioneer had not conceded with a nod.
Nicolaus untied his purse, counted out the coins and handed them to Xandros. “See to it she is on the ship posthaste. We must leave before the storm comes in. Brison will fetch the oil.”
He pushed his way through the crowd and toward the group of women he’d seen the slave glaring at. Standing before them, he took in their various features from exotic to plain. The oldest, bearing the intricate gold band with colorful stones around her arm, wore a veil over one shoulder. If it had not been sitting haphazard, Nicolaus would not have thought it out of place. However, the color and the weave seemed more suitable to the woman he hoped Xandros was securing. It also seemed to match the color of the slave’s tunic.
“Your name?”
The woman lowered her eyes, her dark lashes brushing against her tanned cheeks. He wondered again if this woman was sister to the slave, the shape of their eyes, the slant of their mouths when they scowled were similar. However, the slave was much more beautiful. This woman’s hair, cropped at her shoulders, was near the color of the sky the moment right before the night cloaked them in total darkness. The slave’s hair, the color of wheat just as the sun begins to slip beyond the horizon, hung down her back in gilded waves. Her skin was much fairer, not as dark as the woman before him. This woman bore the lines of displeasure, sadness and spite, not those of a woman who’d known the love of family.
“Dina.”
He pulled out a decent gold coin and flipped it between his fingers. Her greedy eyes followed the movement as she licked her lips as if starving for a meal. “I would purchase this from you.” He touched the gold band. Although the stones glittered, the craftsmanship was not to be praised. It certainly was not worth the two pieces of silver the procurer used in his quest to acquire the slave, nor was it worth the gold coin Nicolaus offered her. He did not appreciate the way the band seemed to cause this woman to gloat, as if she’d been given a king’s ransom. It did not seem fitting to leave her adorned with it.
Dina reached for the coin but Nicolaus pulled his hand back. “The band.” The w
oman glanced at her companions before tugging the gold piece from her arm and dropping it into his palm. “What of the veil?” he added.
Dina touched her fingers to the piece of fabric and began to pull it from her shoulder. One of the other women laid a hand on her arm. “Dina, you cannot. What of Father?”
“Shhh, I will deal with him.” Her eyes narrowed to slits as she thrust the fabric at him. Had these women sold their father’s slave without his knowledge? His kin? For what cause?
Taking the veil, he handed it to the one who spoke. “Give this to your father if you must. Inform him she will be well cared for.” He glanced at Dina and held the coin toward her. “As for you, my dear woman, riches are not everything.”
She pinched it with her fingers, but he held on. Dina tilted her head as if to consider his words. Her gaze flitted to the bands on his arms and then to the clasp on his shoulder. The corner of her mouth curved upward. “It is obvious from your dress, good sir, that you have never been in want. Never wandered the desert smelling of sheep.”
The woman could not be further from the truth. However, the wind pushing at his back reminded him time was short. “I hope your conscience can bear the guilt of your greed.”
Did she understand the words he’d spoken in Greek? He could not tell, nor did he wait to determine her reaction. He turned toward the quay where his ship was tethered. The storm continued to cling to the horizon, but it would not do so much longer. It was time to leave Ashkelon and her heathenistic ways. He had a race to finish if he was to beat his Jasen, his twin brother, at their father’s game. The prize—the ship and all merchandise aboard when they arrived home. His latest purchase only increased the stakes and sent a wave of urgency rushing through his blood.
He caught sight of Xandros’s wide shoulders and the woman he tugged through the crowd. They were nearing the gates leading toward walkway that led to the ship when they stopped. The clenching of Xandros’s jaw told Nicolaus all he needed to know. The woman refused to go any farther. Nicolaus pushed through the throngs of seafarers preparing to leave port until he reached his friend and the woman slave. Without a second thought he tossed her over his shoulder. Her bound fists thumped against his back causing him to smile.
He’d misjudged her size. She was much smaller than he had first believed, even if she did have curves, but curves would not help his mother with household chores, and her small stature would not be valuable to tending the vineyards. He would think on what position she would take in his mother’s household as they traveled home. It was a shame he was not looking for a wife. He could imagine waking up to her beautiful, expressive eyes each morning. The warmth of her snuggled against him as he smoothed her hair behind the cup of her ear.
“Come, Xandros. Let us go home. I have a sudden urgency to win the race.” For the first time in months, the burden of guilt began to lift from his shoulders and a smile formed. The air flowing to and from his lungs seemed freer. Perhaps, he could be redeemed. After all, if he could rescue one small maiden, perhaps there was hope to rescue more, including his own sister.
“It’s good to see your competitiveness come back, Nicolaus. I had lost hope,” Xandros called from behind him.
“As had I, Xandros, as had I.” He stepped over the rail and jumped down onto the deck before turning toward his friend. “That bit of haggling with the Philistine.” He puffed out his chest and smiled. A genuine smile, one that encompassed his entire being as freedom washed over him. Even the small fists—a swift reminder of purchasing a human, something he’d promised he’d never do—pounding against his back couldn’t penetrate the first bit of happiness he’d felt in months. “And a prime purchase will do that to a man.”
The fists beating his back halted. The woman stilled. Nicolaus slackened his hold until her toes touched the planks. The top of her head did not even reach his shoulders. She titled her head back. Her mouth scrunched into a scowl. Her eyes narrowed. Had she understood him? Did this Philistine woman understand his language?
“Do you speak Ionian?” he asked in his own language.
A shadow flickered through her eyes as her brows pulled together.
“Perhaps you paid too much for her,” Xandros spoke in her language.
“Perhaps I did.”
Before he realized what she was about, she swung her bound hands, clouting him against the jaw as she stomped her heel down on his foot. Nicolaus grabbed her hands before she could hit him again. Xandros doubled over in laughter. “I would have paid thrice the amount if I would have known she would clout you, my friend.”
Ay, Nicolaus would have paid ten times. Mayhap even more. She had too much fire to be wasted on the likes of Ashkelon’s wickedness. A fire that seemed to banish all his horrid memories and dare him to breathe again.
“The merchandise is all aboard and secured.” Brison, his youngest brother and the man—if one could call seventeen summers a man—he’d placed in charge of their merchandise stood eager to please.
“All save one.” Nicolaus nodded toward the slave as he loosened his fingers around her upper arm. Her anger vibrated through his fingertips, softening his own anger at her poor treatment. What was it about this woman that threatened to banish months of guilt and anguish from his thoughts?
Brison’s mouth fell open, gaping as if confused. Xandros stepped closer as if to protect the young woman from Nicolaus’s wrath, a wrath that was not geared toward her. But what shocked and filled Nicolaus with a sense of pride was the way his young brother straightened his shoulders as if to protect her, too. He glanced down at the little damsel. Her eyes glittered like the amber jewels he’d seen in Ashkelon’s temple honoring one of Greece’s goddesses, and he had the urge to see them spark even more. “Brison, do not place the woman below deck, place her in the captain’s chamber. I would like to keep an eye on my most prized purchase.”
Did she flinch? He was certain she had. Brison most certainly did, and if he didn’t know better Xandros did, too. “Very well, Captain.” Nicolaus caught the twist of his younger brother’s mouth before he turned toward Xandros, who nodded his agreement. Brison took hold of the woman’s arm and led her away. She tried to jerk from his brother, but Brison held firm. Even in her anger her stature was full of grace, and the sway of her hips was gentle, like the smooth motion of his vessel on a calm sea. The sight eased his irritation over his crew’s obstinacy. What was wrong with his brother and friend? Was he such an incompetent commander that his brother must seek his second-in-command’s permission before seeing his orders carried out?
“He thinks you’ve gone mad.” Xandros tugged on a rope leading up to the mast. “I’m inclined to agree. Prized merchandise?”
A rumble of laughter bubbled from Nicolaus’s stomach and burst forth. He clapped Xandros on the back, his mind sobered as he grasped hold of his own words, words that the Sea Dragon would have spoken. “Perhaps I have, my friend. Perhaps, I have.”
“Mayhap the men should seek the mercies of the sea god before we leave port.” The corner of Xandros’s mouth lifted. It was only a jest, but it bothered Nicolaus nonetheless. He’d long ago given up the idea of gods. Much to Uncle’s delight and his father’s grief. Where had the gods been when he was beaten day after day? Where were the gods when his sister was taken from his protection? Those so-called gods his friends and family called upon were nothing more than falsehoods conjured in the minds of idle men.
“Tell them to be done with it.” Nicolaus focused on the western horizon. The clouds grew darker and heavy. He did not have time for a storm. Not when he actually cared to beat his brother this time around.
All laughter left his friend’s face as his jaw fell open. “You can’t think to leave port with a storm coming toward us.”
“I’ve not known you to shy away from a small storm, my friend. Besides, we’ve not the time to waste if we’re to beat my brother.”
“You’ve drunk seawater to be mad as you are.”
Nicolaus smacked his friend on the
back. “Nay, I admit there’s a risk, but I have the best sailors on board my ship who do not wish to be swallowed by the sea. If you look—” Nicolaus pointed “—the clouds are moving from the southwest. If we hold course and follow the coast north and then west, we’ll get ahead of it and mayhap miss the squall altogether.”
“It is a relief you don’t intend to sail straight across the sea.”
One corner of Nicolaus’s mouth twitched. How would his friend feel when the skies cleared?
Chapter Two
All reasoning had disappeared when the man had tossed her over his shoulder as if he were a barbarian and she nothing more than a sheep to slaughter. She had been fooled by his attire, richly dressed as he was, into believing he was kind, compassionate. She had hoped to convince him to return her to her father. Instead, he treated her no different than that Philistine when he had dragged her around by her hair.
And now she was being led around a boat. She’d heard of such vessels moving on the Great Sea, but she’d never seen one. Tales told by her father when she was naught but a girl had filled her with excitement. She had longed to experience such adventures until she recalled with clarity how his boat had splintered against rocks leaving him near death.
The crewman stopped beside a ladder and motioned for her to climb. She tilted her head back. It seemed as if the ladder led to a small room or a pyre. She’d heard the stories of these heathens, who even now lifted prayers to an unfamiliar god. She would not be their sacrifice, not to their god of the sea. As if one existed. Had they not heard of the one true God? The One who created the seas and all the beasts within.
The boat rocked. Although she understood the motion of the water, she was not prepared for the way it unsteadied her, causing her to stumble toward the wooden rail. White waves crashed against the boat. She sucked in a breath as the sailor lashed his arm around her waist and pulled her back from the edge. Fear clawed at her stomach, making it angry with each movement of the vessel. Her mouth began to water. Before she knew what was happening the man had her bent over the railing as she lost her morning’s meal. She pressed her bound hands to her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed.
