Her Pirate Master (8 page)

“I want to . . . I want. . . “ She breathed in his ear, her need making her voice shake. Then in the next minute she threw herself backward, the water fountaining up around her as she flailed toward the shallows. He caught her before she reached the shore and pulled her into him.

“Shush,” he whispered as she sobbed.

“I . . . I want to, but I cannot.” Her words came out in heaving spurts. “My oath.”

“I know. Hush. Hush.” He held her close, murmuring into her hair, willing himself to limpness but failing. When her sobs gave way to the occasional hiccup, he bent down, scooped up a handful of sand, and began to rub her gently down starting at her shoulders, working his way to her hands, her breasts, her stomach, her legs. After he was done, he rinsed the sand off her.

Without a word, he picked her up and carried her higher up on the beach. He put her down, and then with a low moan he sank to his knees in front of her. Imi pushed herself up on her elbows, panting slightly, and watched him. She was so tense with excitement, she almost yelled when his warm tongue touched her clit. Pleasure stabbed through her. She opened her legs wide, as wide as she could, thrusting her hips down into his face. His hands slipped under her bottom. He lifted her up to him, licking and sucking at her folds, then swirling his tongue around her clit. Imi dug her fingers into his hair, her eyes closed, her back arched. Seleucus felt her clit jump. A second later, her come, thick and vaguely salty, flowed over his tongue. Gently, slowly, he licked up every drop.

Imi watched the long warehouses that ringed the harbor at Delos grow slowly more defined. They had made it. The thought was like a fierce song within her. Seleucus had been optimistic about just how long the ‘minor’ repairs, as he termed them, would take. Five days had come and gone before they were finally able to set sail. Imi never saw the mysterious old woman again, but she had kept an eye out for the Nereids and offered daily prayers to Isis for her safety and that of Seleucus and all on board his ship. Once, she thought she’d glimpsed something beneath the waves, a dark, half–human figure, but the distant gray clouds that had blotted out the rising sun never offered more than light rain. Perhaps the old woman had underestimated the wounds the divine crocodile had inflicted on his enemies. Imi hoped that the success of that skirmish between the Roman gods and the ancient gods of the United Lands boded well for her own mission and for Arsinoe’s future.

Strong, muscular arms slipped around her waist.

“Seleucus,” she breathed, leaning back against his now–familiar muscular length. They stood like that, silent, as the ship drew ever closer to land. Scores of ships of all sizes bobbed on the waves around them.

“Have you been to Delos before?” Seleucus asked, taking the opportunity to nibble on her ear.

“No, but my father’s ships often came here to trade grain for silks and spices from the East, so I have heard much about it.” Even as she said it, she scanned the harbor in vain for a ship decorated with the protective wings of Isis. It had been five years since she’d seen either her father or any of his ships. She hadn’t really expected to find what she sought, but, even so, a twinge of sadness teared her eyes.

“The Romans think Rome is the center of the world,” Seleucus muttered, “but it is at Delos that everything happens. Anything can be bought or sold here.”

Imi turned in his arms to look at him. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he looked at the town.

“I do not think we’ll have trouble selling our cargo. These ships have come from as far away as Antioch and Carales. My darling, what is it?” He had only then realized her mood.

Imi shook her head, not wanting to put into words all that she felt over the loss of her family, her exile, the uncertainty of her future. Even if Arsinoe managed to rally an army against her sister, Cleopatra had the might of Rome behind her. There was no guarantee Arsinoe would win. She had lost before despite being the one chosen of the gods.

“We won’t stay here long,” Seleucus said, his eyes dark with concern as he looked at her. “Two nights at the most, and then we’ll be on our way again. To Ephesus. Two nights. That’s not that long, is it?”

“No.” She supposed it wasn’t, but she would have given anything to be there already, to have completed her mission. But that would mean telling Seleucus good–bye. Seleucus with his beautiful, gleaming skin and broad smile. The man who held her so tenderly at night he made her feel almost as if she’d found her home, a refuge where she was safe and nothing could ever harm her.

“What will you . . .”

“Oy.” A shout interrupted her.

“Oy. I was thinking you were deaf.” A man stood on a small lighter, shading his eyes as he looked up at them. “The dock’s all filled up, but I can get your things ashore, no problem, for ten sesterces. Flat rate.”

“Ten!” Seleucus exclaimed. “I’ll pay you seven.”

“It’s ten or I charge three per trip.”

“Ten, it is.” To Imi, he murmured, “That’s not actually a bad price. I think I paid double that as a flat rate the last time I was here. He must be new.”

For the next few hours, the pirates loaded their goods on to the lighter. The captive men and women went first, and Seleucus dispatched Sahman and a couple other men ashore with them to oversee the rest of the unloading and make sure the lighterman was not in cahoots with thieves. When the last of the articles they’d seized in their raid had been dispatched, Seleucus turned to Imi.

“Do you wish to stay aboard until I return?” he asked. “Three crewmen will remain with the ship. You will have it almost to yourself.”

Imi glanced around. With all the captives gone and all of the cargo, the ship looked completely different. Bare. Meanwhile, the shore, like the harbor itself, teemed with activity. People hurried here and there, shouting to each other, and dogs barked. Imi felt she needed to be ashore, not alone with her thoughts.

“I’d like to take a look around Delos, if I may.”

“You’re not my prisoner, Imi.” He cupped her chin, locking gazes with her. “I’ll not deny that was my first intention, but we’ve gone far beyond that now, you and I.”

Beyond it to what, she wanted to ask him, but nearby one of his sailors cleared his throat.

“It’s time we push off, Captain,” the man said, sounding apologetic. “The day’s near half–gone.”

“Indeed it is. Come.” Seleucus grabbed her hand and helped her climb overboard and into the smaller boat.

On shore, the noise of the people on the dock and in the adjacent courtyards fronted by the warehouses rose to a clamor.

“I am going to explore,” Imi shouted into Seleucus’s ear.

“Take this.” He shoved a small cloth purse into her hand. Imi could feel the outline of several coins through the thick fabric. “Do not get lost,” he said, half–jokingly. “But if you do, I will come look for you.”

Imi threw her arms around him and held him tight. How could she explain to him what she felt there, surrounded by scores of busy, indifferent people? She was a complete stranger to them. Nobody else on the island would care if she disappeared off the face of the Earth.

“Don’t lose me,” she said, fiercely. “Don’t lose me.”

He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers, in a kiss both firm and gentle. Imi groaned and opened her mouth to his. Desire flamed. She felt his erection beneath his clothes and moved her hips against him.

Seleucus broke away first and grabbed her hands in his, panting slightly.

“Go,” he said, pushing her. “I have things I must attend to. You are un . . . I . . .” His hand rose to her cheek and, for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes, uncertainty, concern, she wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, it was gone in an instant, replaced by something close to resentment, even anger. His face hardened.

“No. By Attis.” He spun around without another word and left her there, trembling, feeling as if the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She didn’t understand what had just happened. One minute he was kissing her and then the next he was swearing at her. Swearing anyway, even if it hadn’t been exactly at her. She watched his rigid back disappear into the crowd. She would have liked to run after him and make him tell her what the matter was, but she didn’t. Men did not think like women, she had noticed. Where women liked to discuss things, men appeared to prefer to keep their thoughts and opinions to themselves. Even the eunuchs of her acquaintance were like that, secretive and close–mouthed. They hoarded their words like pearls. She would just have to let Seleucus work out whatever plagued him on his own.

She turned her attention to Delos. It was unlike any city Imi had been to. Almost every building seemed devoted to commerce. As she walked through the cobbled streets, she saw cones of sugar from India, bronze daggers from the mountain regions of the East, jars from Scythia, carpets from Turkey, and elaborately carved silver bowls from Persia. It was the gold bracelets embedded with amethysts that made her catch her breath at one stall, however. A sharp stab of homesickness brought tears to her eyes and curled her hands into fists. The bracelets were made in the Egyptian style – bands of amethyst alternated with thin bands of gold. The merchant had other Egyptian things as well, small ivory figurines of Isis and Bastet, alabaster perfume pots in the shape of lotus flowers, scarab pendants.

“Ma’am.” The merchant, a small, smiling man with curly black hair, clapped his hands to get her attention. Imi blinked and roused herself. “Do you see something you like? I have only items of the highest quality, made by the best craftsmen in the world.”

“No.” Imi shook her head. “No, thank you.”

She hurried away, arguing with herself. She should have asked him who his supplier was, found out if he knew her father or had news of him. But her questions would have inspired some of his own. He wouldn’t have answered her freely without wanting to know who she was or why she was interested. In any case, she wasn’t sure she really wanted any answers to her questions. If she didn’t know for sure, she could keep hoping her father and her family lived on in Alexandria, perhaps in reduced circumstances but surviving. Imi gritted her teeth as she realized her whole life since Arsinoe’s uprising was built on a flimsy foundation of hope. Hope that Arsinoe would prevail had become hope that they would escape from the Romans, which, in turn, had become hope that Arsinoe could yet still reclaim what so many believed was hers. With the holy articles in her possession, Arsinoe hoped to persuade Marc Antony of her right to the throne and win the support of her people. The ancient gods of Egypt were on Arsinoe’s side. They had defeated the Nereids. Surely they would defeat Arsinoe’s enemies once and for all and grant her a long and triumphant reign over the United Lands. It had to be so. If not, Imi and her family would have sacrificed everything and gained nothing.

The smell of food cooking distracted Imi from her thoughts. Her belly rumbled. She had not eaten since early that morning before they had entered the harbor. Imi allowed her nose to lead her to a side street, only slightly less busy than the road she had been on. Where she had seen only shops and a few residences, this street seemed almost entirely given over to food. A baker displayed his bread on her right, while on her left a butcher did brisk business. Men walked by with jugs of wine and baskets of vegetables, while women collected water at a nearby fountain.

By the time, Imi found a thermopolium with an empty space at the counter, her mouth was watering. The fare on Seleucus’s ship had been better than she would have expected, but for the last couple of days the bread had been hard, the cheeses nearly inedible. Looking at the plates of her neighbors at the counter, she knew the meal would be a vast improvement. She ordered a plate of roasted meat and vegetables. Her first bite almost made her knees buckle. Basted with honey and covered in a spicy date and herb sauce, the meat was done to perfection, neither too tough nor undercooked. She finished her meal in minutes and washed it down with a cup of pomegranate wine.

After she paid the eight sesterces she was charged, she was pleased to realize she still had ten left. She considered buying something for Seleucus but decided to wait until she was on her way back. Delos was known as the island of Apollo, and she wanted to take a look at the god’s temple. As she’d walked through the town, she had caught glimpses of it now and then on the tip of the hill overlooking the town. She asked directions of a man walking by and set off. The road the man had pointed out to her wasn’t very steep, but by the time she was halfway to the summit she was panting slightly, her face and arms covered in a light sheen of perspiration.

Imi paused to catch her breath and look around. The houses on the hill were bigger and grander than those nearer the harbor. Sprays of brightly colored bougainvilleas spilled over high garden walls and trailed down from overhead verandahs. Here the noise of the docks and the vendors was nonexistent, and she had seen only a few people since she began her climb. Imi looked appreciatively across at a cobbled road that ran perpendicular to the hill, admiring its calm orderliness. She thought she could hear a woman singing behind one of the walls. Intrigued, she walked in the singer’s direction. As she got closer, she realized that at the end of each line or verse someone played a few notes on a sistrum and people murmured a chorus.

Imi’s heart lurched in her chest. She turned a corner and saw a gate set in a huge limestone pylon. Imi crossed the road at a run and pushed the gate open. The long walls, plain white on the outside, were, on the inside, covered with murals depicting a menagerie of animals, including zebras, cats, birds, and, of course, the crocodile. Statues of the same animals were scattered all around the temple yard. Imi’s breath caught in her throat, and her eyes smarted. In front of her, on the steps leading to the inner sanctum, the singer she’d heard was surrounded by worshippers.

Imi wove forward among the silent animals, fascinated. The Great Mother’s temples were found in most cities of the known world, and the old woman in Velia had said the goddess’s hold was strong on the island, but Imi hadn’t expected such a well–appointed compound.