by Renee Ryan
*
How could he have forgotten about the entrances to the storerooms and the access into the center hold? He’d had compartments built at either end of the vessel in order to keep the merchandise secured. Of course, he had not figured on purchasing more than the compartments could contain, which left crates floating atop the water in the hold. It was fortunate the lattice kept the amphora jars in their places else they’d most assuredly break filling the water with all sorts of pleasant aromas. He didn’t need sea creatures lured into the ship by their scents.
How long could his vessel keep afloat? He scrubbed his hand over his face. If Brison was correct, the water was rising too fast. If his men didn’t find the hole and patch it, he wouldn’t have to worry about winning his father’s game. Right now all that mattered was saving as many people as possible. “Euclid, prepare the planks so Xandros can come aboard once they are close enough.”
Nicolaus waited until his helmsman did as he commanded and then he bowed his head. If the water continued to rise, would they need the use of the dilapidated fishing boat? However, there was no possibility of moving his entire crew and Ada to the other boat. It wouldn’t hold them. It barely held the villagers as it was. As much as it soured his stomach, his men would have to cast lots if repairs could not be made before it sunk. He could see no other way.
There was some solace knowing Ada would find safety in the decrepit boat. Even if the safety was not certain, some was better than none. He had confidence that Xandros would see that the broken vessel would make port at Joppa, but it was a double-edged sword knowing his brother must cast lots along with the crew. He would not dishonor Brison no matter how much he wanted to command him to the other boat.
There was no time to consider all the possible situations. His energies were better focused on survival, and that meant opening the hatch. He stalked toward the room beneath the helmsman’s perch where he’d kept tools supplied in a built-in chest and then ran back toward the front of the boat. Since they had not planned on opening the hatches until they reached home at Andros, they had sealed them to keep water from entering that portion of the hold.
Nicolaus yanked on the handle, hoping the hatch would simply release, but the seal had been done properly and held tight. He lined the chisel along the edge of the hatch and hammered to break the seal. The black tar dipped but did not break as he’d hoped. Digging his fingers into the seal he pulled at the sticky thickness. At this rate the vessel would rest at the sea bottom before he popped the hatch open.
He tried again with the chisel, gouging, digging, pulling, until all the little chunks broke away, but the hatch still would not open. Why did it seem whenever he sailed he faced difficult decisions? Perhaps he was not meant to be a sailing merchant as his father had been. Perhaps sailing should be left only to his brothers, Jasen and Brison. If they survived, he’d see his father’s legacy passed to his brothers.
The temptation to bury his face into his hands and weep overwhelmed him, but he could not give up. He wanted to please his father, and he wanted to sail. The sea seemed to thrum in his blood. He’d never felt freer, more alive, than when standing on the commander’s post with the ocean spray bathing his cheeks. At least he hadn’t until he’d lost his sister to thieves.
Perhaps he should give up, walk away from his livelihood. Yet, his father depended on him, not for a simple game, but to bring Brison back alive. To bring him back a seasoned sailor. And Ada depended on him, whether she wanted to or not. Just as he depended on this great God his uncle spoke of, the one Ada trusted in and prayed to. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, Nicolaus looked toward the sky, the place his uncle believed this great God resided. If there was such a god, one who’d created the heavens and the earth, one who all other gods bowed to, then Nicolaus owed him his fidelity, but first they had to survive the sea. “Ay, if You are an all-knowing God, I seek Your forgiveness for my obstinate nature, but I pray You do not blame me for my lack of trust as of yet.”
The gray clouds began to part. A single ray of light bathed the deck around him, warming his wind-cooled skin. If he were owned by superstitions as his parents and most of his sailors were, he’d think it was a sign. But he wasn’t superstitious, and he’d just take it for the blessing that it was. The storm was breaking, and calmer seas were on the horizon. It still didn’t fix the problems below his deck, but he sensed renewed hope within his mind. He could do this. He could save them all.
“Have you forgotten what you are about, Nicolaus?”
Nicolaus glanced over his shoulder. Relief cut through his bones much like the wave had broken the mast. It was good to see Xandros had been able to come to his aid. “The hatch won’t open, even though I’ve loosened the seal.”
White teeth gleamed in the midst of Xandros’s dark beard. “Have you forgotten we latched the hatch from the inside?”
Nicolaus shook his head. “We’ve no time for jokes, Xandros. There are people trapped below. Brison, Ada…”
“It is not a joke. You ordered the ship to be built with the latches on the inside as a precaution against thieves finding your wares so easily.”
He nodded. “Ay, I remember although I wish it was not so. What if Brison cannot remove the stores quickly enough?”
Xandros dropped a hand to his shoulder and squeezed. “Have confidence in your brother, Nicolaus. This is not his first time sailing, and I’m quite certain that maid of yours will not allow him to rest. Now let us see what can be done about moving the mast now that we’ve able-bodied men to help.”
Nicolaus stood and noticed the rowers who’d been caught on the fishing vessel were back on board. One man knelt near the entrance, his ear hovering over the opening. It was obvious he was listening to instructions and from the soft musical lilt, he had no doubt Ada was giving his men commands. Nicolaus smiled. “Since when did I lose command of my ship to a woman?”
Xandros nudged his shoulder against his. “Since you carried her aboard. Did your father not tell you to never challenge a woman else you’re bound to lose all you hold dear—including your ship?”
No, his father had not given him such sage advice. If he had, Nicolaus wasn’t sure he would have heeded it, especially where Ada was concerned. An image of her standing on the auction block forced its way into his thoughts, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He’d never interfered before—if he had he would have a fleet full of women and children rescued from slavery—but there was something about her. Perhaps it had been the proud tilt of her chin or the anger burning in her eyes. Perhaps it was because somehow he knew she didn’t deserve the fate that seemed to befall her. Of course, no man, woman or child deserved to be treated as harshly as most slave masters were wont to do. So why save Ada? Why not the Egyptian woman from the previous port with the tresses the color of the night sky and eyes as dark as heated tar?
There was something about Ada that reminded him of his sister. What, he could not comprehend. Desma’s hair was darker, her skin paler and her eyes lighter. She was much taller and more like willow than Ada. His sister was graceful as were most women of Ionian descent, not the curvaceous temptation Ada possessed. And his sister was obedient, compliant without fault. He chuckled to himself. Obviously Ada held nothing in common with his sister, and if that were true then he must be taken by her beauty. It was a good thing he did not believe in the Greek gods and goddesses else he’d believe they were playing tricks on his mind to make him besotted with Ada, a Philistine woman who called upon the Hebrew God.
If all he lost was his ship to her, he’d consider it a blessing. Although he’d never experienced that cursed emotion of love his mother continually harped about, he’d also never experienced half the emotions he’d encountered since crossing his path with Ada. The way his heart kicked against his chest—stealing his breath when she smiled, the way his gut contorted when he caught her gazing upon him as if he were more than a mere man, the way he had to continually halt himself from staring at her as if he’d never before seen a
woman, and the worst, the disturbing sense of defeat at failing to protect her from the ails of this earth. Ay, he had a feeling he was close to losing something much greater than his ship to Ada, which was why it would be a good idea to put as much distance between them as possible, as soon as possible.
Chapter Eight
Shadows appeared and disappeared as heavy footfalls pounded across the deck above. The desperate thumps should have alarmed Ada, but instead they brought relief to her frantic nerves.
“Brison,” she called out to him over the noise of the men moving the stores and the pounding from above. He glanced at her, and she motioned for him to come closer. “Your brother has men above. Perhaps we can move the mast now.”
He peered up at the hole and then back to where some of the sailors continued to clear the hold of crates. “We almost have it cleared.”
She laid her hand on his shoulder to halt him from leaving. “No matter, Brison. The mast still needs to be moved.” She knew she pleaded with him with her eyes, for his gaze shifted to the trapped women. “Your brother has a compassionate heart. He would not leave them to die. Nor will I.”
With a nod, he leaped atop a few crates and jumped over a few more until he was speaking with the men emptying the compartment. She’d won a small victory. At least for now. Until Nicolaus discovered she’d caused his men to defy his orders by agreeing to her sound reason. He would, no doubt, command her to safety before the women were freed, but she meant what she’d said. She would not leave them.
“Are you giving orders to my men?”
Startled, Ada jumped. She tilted her head back. Although his tone had been deep and echoed throughout the hold, he was smiling. “I only thought to explain to your men how the mast should be moved. You’re more than one man now, ay?”
“Ay, Ada, I’m more than one man now. Shall we get it out of the way, then, so you can tend to the wounded?”
The corners of her mouth slid upward, and a song took flight in her heart. She was far from understanding his ever-changing moods, but when he offered her his approval as he did now, his surly temper was long forgotten.
Brison and the sailors pressed into the small space waiting for word. Ada held up her hand. No doubt the releasing of the mast would cause the women great discomfort. “A moment, if you will. I’d like to pray.”
“Ada,” Nicolaus growled. “We’ve not the time for it.”
She glared up at him. “It will only take a moment.”
“You best let her, Nicolaus. You’ll spend more time arguing with her than it will take for her to speak a few words,” Brison said.
“No greater truth have you spoken, little brother.”
Nicolaus did not say another word, only stared down at her, making her feel as if she were a spectacle back on the auction block. Closing her eyes, she lifted her face upward. “Almighty, Maker of the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is within, happy is the one who has You as their help, O Lord. You love the righteous and preserve strangers. You relieveth the fatherless and the widow. Lord, help us now. Make these men swift in their rescue of these strangers among us. May their discomfort be as little as possible.” She felt the warmth of Nicolaus’s gaze upon her and the corners of her lips curved upward. She opened her eyes. “Almighty, please preserve this vessel until we reach land.”
Nicolaus blinked, his mouth opened and closed as if he wished to say something, but no sound came out. Drawing in a relieved breath, Ada clapped her hands together. “Everyone will have to lift at the same time. It will take me a moment to move the women.”
“Y’er no mor’an a mite. How’re you to move them?” one of the sailors asked.
Ada felt her eyebrows knit together. Words rushed forward, but before they left her tongue she heard Nicolaus’s voice. “She’s stronger than she looks, and stubborn enough to carry this ship all the way to shore on her shoulders if need be.”
“I will help.” Galen unfurled himself from around his sister and pattered toward Ada.
“As will I.” One of the old women rose from her seat and stood beside him.
“And I.” A chorus of voices rose together as the rest of the women stood.
With them all offering their assistance, there would not be much room for Ada to help. And since they were kin or of the same community, Ada felt obligated to retreat to the shadows. Although joyful for the help, disappointment weighed down upon her shoulders. She did not like being pushed to the shadows. The small bundle cradled against her chest whimpered. Ada smoothed her hand down its back. It was just as well she was not needed. She would not wish to bring harm to the babe while trying to help.
Ada squeezed past the sailors and the women preparing to move the mast and walked toward the front of the boat. She thought to sit beside the little girl, but the child’s wide-eyed fear as she approached propelled Ada to find another place. She did not wish to cause the child more discomfort. She found a bench and curled her feet beneath her. The sodden hem of her tunic soaked through the rest of the cloth, but the chill did little to prompt her to move from her comforting position. If only she had purpose, a chore to keep her thoughts from straying to their dire situation and to what the future held in store for her. The infant wiggled against her chest. She pulled back the linen and peeked at the tiny rosy cheeks. Eyes the color of the bluest skies blinked up at her and she sucked in a sharp breath. Had they been this blue when he’d looked at her earlier? No wonder they didn’t want anything to do with the child.
Where had he come from? Was he one of their own? “You are a boy child, are you not?” The baby cooed. Little bubbles formed on his lips. “I suppose we’ll discover what you are when it’s time to change your linens.”
The innocent trust the babe offered warmed her heart. He did not know her, had never heard the sound of her voice, yet he did not cry or seem distressed with all the noise around them. “If God finds me favorable perhaps He’ll allow me to keep you, tiny one.”
“Ada.” She jerked her head up and spied Nicolaus stalking toward her. His long strides cut through the rising water with ease.
“The women, are they free?”
“Ay.” He bent down and scooped her and the babe into his arms.
“What are you doing?” She stopped herself from kicking her feet lest she cause him to drop her and the child.
“I am taking you to the deck.”
“I can walk on my own feet, Nicolaus.”
“Ay. I figured it would be quicker if I did not ask you to move and carried you.”
“Why would it be quicker? I would have done as you asked.”
A vibration rumbled against her side as he growled. “Have you once done as I asked?”
“Of course.”
His arms tightened around her. His mouth hovered a small space above hers. If she wasn’t holding tight to the babe, she was certain she’d run a finger over the seam of his lips to see if they were as warm as they looked. As if to remind her that her tunic was soaked with the sea, her body shivered. The obstinate man rolled her closer into his chest. “Without argument, Ada?”
She opened her mouth to argue, and then clamped it shut.
“Hence, the reason I am carrying you.” He adjusted his hold on her, shifting her even closer. Her ear rested tight against the warmth of his chest and the smooth cadence of his heartbeat. “Hold on.”
He grasped hold of the rail beside the stairs and climbed. Clear skies and the bright sun bathed her face when they emerged from the dark bowels of the ship. Nicolaus did not put her down as she’d expected, but rather carried her to the space beneath the helmsman’s perch. Ada’s cheeks heated when she realized the women from the fishing boat were already there watching with curiosity as Nicolaus set her down.
Nicolaus clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring. “I’ve a feeling I’ve told you this before. Stay here. Do not move until I tell you to.”
Swallowing past the knot in her throat, every bit of her wanted to argue, to demand an explanation, bu
t after all they’d been through thus far, she’d heed him without question. Besides, his scent clung to her person as did the warmth of where his arms had been wrapped around her and she had not the wits to form a coherent thought. Words would not be forming on her tongue.
He opened a chest and pulled something from it. He knelt in front of her and wrapped a sheep blanket around her shoulders. “Ada, it is important for your safety and that of the children that you remain here until I come for you.” He ran a finger over her brow, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch, taking delight in the simplicity of his gesture. It was as if he cared for her. For Ada the Hebrew woman, not Ada the slave.
A cool breeze brushed over her and she flung her eyes open to find him stumbling backward as if she were a viper. He yanked on his beard and took several more steps away from her. Color rose high in his cheeks. Had she angered him somehow? “I must see what repairs can be made to halt the water from filling the hold before all the merchandise is ruined. I do not wish to worry over your safety, as well.”
Ada bit the inside of her mouth to keep her lip from quivering. If only her wet clothing was to blame, but she knew different. How could she have thought he might care for her? She would do well to remember that he was a merchant, and she nothing more than his merchandise.
*
Nicolaus stalked away from the maddening woman and jumped down into the hold. Seemed whenever he set sights on her, he needed to touch her. He knew she could walk on her own, maneuver the ladder with ease, even with the babe snuggled tight against her breast. May the sea wash him overboard if he wasn’t truly smitten with her. Once the barrier between them had been moved from the hatch, his blood pulsed with the need to carry her away, anywhere far from danger. Somehow he knew she wouldn’t move from her isolated perch until all the others were back on deck, so he’d waited with arms crossed grunting out commands as he kept his eye on her.
