His Seafaring Siren (Caledonia's Captives)

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Biography

His Seafaring Siren

Caledonia’s Captives: Book 2

Lisa A. Adams

Breathless Press

Calgary, Alberta

www.breathlesspress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or

persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

His Seafaring Siren

Copyright © 2013 Lisa A. Adams

ISBN: 978-1-77101-992-7

Cover Artist: Mina Carter

Editor: Spencer Freeman

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.

Breathless Press

www.breathlesspress.com

Dedication:

To my husband, Ray, who was born on the water, and has sailed with me through some of life’s roughest storms.

Chapter One

The smell of sweet wild onions filled Mowriyah’s nose and mixed with the salty taste of the ocean in her mouth. Her stomach grumbled. Patting it with her hand, she began the short walk back to her sister’s new house. It had been three months since they had arrived here in Caledonia and peace had settled in her heart. There had been no sign of any Romans since their escape from the Emperor’s city. Though Decimus and Abagail had been forcibly married by the Emperor, they had found true love. Mowriyah grinned as she reminisced on the tears of joy that had overcome her sister when she and Decimus remarried in the eyes of their one true God. Now they were expecting.

Mowriyah’s own love life had been a welcome surprise. She and Septimus had shared an instant physical attraction to each other, and neither was afraid to act on it. A warm feeling tingled in her chest as she remembered their previous night’s escapades. This life they had created on the shore of Caledonia was similar to her life as it was before with her nomadic tribe. The people here were free from orders and the threat of a tyrant Emperor who was all-powerful.

Only a few others had joined them on this once-deserted shore since they’d arrived. Most were simply nomads who felt the time had come to settle down. A pair of brothers—a bread maker and a poultry farmer—had joined their close but growing village, as did a young maiden who tended a small herd of goats. For the first time in her life, Mowriyah didn’t have to worry about hunting or foraging for food. Septimus was an excellent fisherman, and Abagail had learned from a woman in a nearby town how to grow and tend grains and vegetables from the dirt. They relied on each other’s skills, depended on each other, and she thanked God for blessing her with a small community that she had come to love as an extended family.

She continued down the rolling green hill covered in clover. The breeze blew softly, and she recalled her days walking the high mountains north of the Sea of the Adriatic with her tribe. A small tear formed and Mowriyah choked it back, refusing to let herself give way to any more tears for her murdered family. Besides, she was lucky enough to have Abagail, and there would always be a glimmer of hope that they would one day find Leihla, their younger sister, who had also been taken prisoner by the Romans on that awful day.

Mowriyah straightened her shoulders and marched to the house. She wouldn’t let that horrible memory ruin the gorgeous morning she had spent on the hills. As she approached the cabin, Mowriyah heard a familiar cry, causing her to break into a run down the path before bursting through the door.

“What!” Abagail was practically screaming at Decimus. “You’re going back to Rome?” Abagail’s dark chestnut hair was casually braided to one side and brought forward over her shoulder, making her
seem
angelic. However, Mowriyah had seen Abagail’s crossed arms and tapping foot before and she knew Abagail certainly meant business.

Decimus raised his hands like a shield in front of his face. “Hold on, Abagail. Listen, please.”

Abagail stomped her foot. “No! You listen to me. Either I go with you, or you don’t go. That is it.”

Mowriyah glanced at Septimus sitting in the corner, who gave her a smirk and rolled his eyes. She stepped closer to the pair, bringing her hands up between them. “Stop this. What is this about?”

Abagail and Decimus began ranting at the same time. “I have already lost so much family by the hands of the Romans. I will not—”

“You are the only family I have, Abagail. And I will not let—”

“Stop!” Mowriyah yelled. “I cannot understand when you both talk like that. Really, you two are worse than children.” Septimus chuckled in the background and Mowriyah spied Decimus narrow his eyes and grind his teeth together. Silence consumed the miniature room. “That’s better. Now, Abagail, what has you so upset?”

“He just—”

“Control, Abagail. Think of the baby,” Mowriyah tried to soothe.

Abagail dropped her arms to her sides and clenched her hands into tight fists. “Decimus and Septimus are planning to return to Rome to find their other brothers.”

“You knew this was their plan. They have been talking about it ever since we left Rome. What is the real problem?”

Abagail glared at Mowriyah. “What is the problem? Don’t you understand? Decimus was a General there, he had soldiers under his command, and the Emperor knows him personally. If he goes back, someone is bound to recognize him.” Her voice steadily climbed. “We have already lost so much because of the Romans; I will not lose him too!” Abagail flailed her hands and pointed at Decimus.

“But, Abby—”

“No, Decimus. We are about to bring a new life into this world. You have been a soldier long enough. Leading the legion is in your past. Now it is time to be the man who leads his family. You said
this
was the life you wanted,” she said, rubbing her round belly. “
This
was the person you wanted to become, who you
would
have become if it had not been for Rome.” Her shoulders sagged. Dropping her head, she stared down at the ground between them. “I need you, Decimus. We need you.”

Decimus brought his hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What of my brothers, and your sister? Are we meant to simply leave them?”

It was quiet once again and Mowriyah looked between the two, then to Septimus. He seemed to have a permanent grin across his face. He was undoubtedly entertained to see Decimus reprimanded by Abagail. His clover green eyes were wide and joyful. Mowriyah cleared her throat to get his attention. “Enjoying this, are you?”
He’s such a child. Will he ever mature into the man I need him to be?
Her heart sank, answering her almost immediately.

He nodded. Dimples highlighting his newly grown facial hair caused Mowriyah to fill with heat—and not the kind that she usually liked. “Fine,” she snapped. “I have the solution.” All eyes turned to her. “
I
will go with Septimus back to Rome. He will find his brothers and I will find Leihla.”

Septimus shot out of his chair, causing it to topple over. “I don’t think so!”

Decimus reached out to Abagail, who had tears welling in her eyes. “Please, Mowriyah, think about this. The journey is dangerous and Abagail cannot lose you. She has already endured the demise of her other family members. Would you risk causing her the pain of losing you as well, on the hope that this third sister may still be alive?”

Mowriyah walked to Abagail and then placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder. Straightening Abagail’s posture, she forced her to look into her eyes. “Abby, you know I can do this. You know I can find her. You are right, Decimus should not go. Someone is sure to recognize him. But Septimus cannot make this journey alone, and neither of them knows what Leihla looks like.” She reached out and wiped the last remaining tears from Abagail’s cheeks. “I know the city. I escaped the guards and hid for three days before finding you. Blending in has always been what I am good at.” She watched as Abagail slowly nodded her head.

“No. No. No!” Septimus charged forward, stopping shy of her. “I will not let you go.”

Mowriyah cocked her head toward him and narrowed her eyes. “You will not
let
me?”

“I forbid it!” Septimus loomed over her. “I
can
stop you.”

She turned on him, poking her finger into his chest repeatedly. “You
forbid
it? You do not own me. You are not my husband, and I will
never
be owned by another person
,
even if we were married. But that does not matter, since we have not entered that contract and it seems you will never be ready for such a strong commitment. You want to find your brother and I want to find our sister, so I. Am. Going.” The final push on his chest had Septimus stepping back.

Mowriyah glanced back toward Abagail, who had a faint smile tucked at the edge of her lips, and Decimus, whose hard jaw line had gone slack and dropped. She let out a huff and then turned, storming back out into the open hillside covered with clover colored the most brilliant shade of green she had ever seen.

***

Septimus leaned over the railing of his ship and stared out into the horizon. The sun was setting and the streaks of bright red and orange in the sky seemed almost ominous, as if Mars himself were sending an omen of death written in the sky.

He shook his head, not wanting to visualize all the horrible things that could happen to Mowriyah while they were on this rescue mission. Dropping his gaze to the water, he watched the gentle waves beat against the bottom of his beloved vessel.

Septimus shut his eyes and let the rapping sound soothe his soul as it had so many times before. No matter what life threw at him, the water was always there for him, comforting him like a mother, rocking him gently in her arms.

Mowriyah can’t go with me. I cannot lose her.
The thought shocked him into a heightened sense. Footsteps were approaching.

Septimus turned and saw Mowriyah gliding across the boat deck in a beautiful earth-toned gown. It was cut low on her chest and trimmed in a delicate stitching. She was a vision and his loins reacted to her without his consent. Cursing his manhood for acting on instinct, he tried to put on his angry face.

Mowriyah slowed. She tilted her head ever so slightly, the wind catching her short, bobbed hair to blow it over her face, making her even more compelling. He watched as she gracefully lifted her hand and tucked the windblown hairs behind her ear. She was batting her eyes.
Oh, no.

She walked within inches of him and grinned. “May I join you?” Her voice was low and seductive.

He felt the anger leave his body and was confounded that she had this type of power over him. He dropped his hardened expression. “Of course.”

She shuffled closer to him and the rocking of the boat caused her breasts to rub against his arms. What was it about this woman that had him so spellbound?

“You are not still angry with me, are you?”

“No, I am not angry.” He inhaled deeply. “I still do not want you to go though.”

“I understand.”

Septimus felt a wave of relief crash through his body. “So, you will stay? Really?”

She looked up at him and he could see her defiance in her eyes. “No. I am going with you. I said I understand how you feel.”

The horror of his worst nightmares came barreling back to him. “Mowriyah, please.” He turned to face her completely and then grabbed her forearms to pull her to his chest. “This will not be a safe trip. There will be times that we will have to split up, and I cannot protect you when I am not with you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Protect me? And exactly when have I needed your protection?” Her muscles tensed beneath his grip as she tried to slide away from him, but he tightened his hold. “Septimus, we have been here for three months and have been together every day and night, yet I feel you know little about me other than the taste of my skin.”

“Do not be like that, Mowriyah,” he pleaded.

“Besides, you know I am right. You have no idea what Leihla looks like, so how would you find her?”

“You could tell me, and I would find her.”

“Tell you what? She is my height, has majestic black hair, and ocean blue eyes.”

He felt her wiggle beneath his touch. He craved to hold her close to him. But how could he tell her how he felt? If he did, she would want a larger commitment, and he wasn’t ready to take Decimus’s route yet. There were too many young maidens in Caledonia.

“Septimus, let me go.” He watched as her face contorted and showed signs of anger. The cute little “V” that formed at her eyebrows when she was furious was evident, and he could feel his manhood awaken with delight.