Ada glanced at the man who’d made the offer and sucked in a sharp breath. He was a short, burly man with a matted beard and a bevy of brightly dressed women clinging to his person. Their thick kohl and painted lips were tale enough of why the man would purchase her, but it was not their profession that left Ada shocked and even more angered. It was the five onlookers who stood behind the man. Her five sisters. Dina perched on the edge of a well; her hand propped on one hip, one corner of her mouth curved upward.
“Come now, certainly the girl is worth more,” her captor roared.
“She is too thin.” A man in the crowd spat as if disgusted with her appearance.
The Philistine gripped a handful of her tunic at her back and pulled it tight. “There now, not so skinny.”
“Two, then.”
Tears of anger fought their way to the back of Ada’s eyes. As if losing her mother had not been enough... Dina’s jealousy had gone too far. The gold bangle around her sister’s upper arm sparkling beneath the sun was worth more than two pieces of silver. Her captor no doubt knew this, which filled Ada with hope. Perhaps, the Philistine would fight for a higher bidder, especially since she’d cost him that gold band. Perhaps, the wicked man would pass.
“Throw in your best cow,” her captor yelled.
Dina tilted her head, her gaze considering the lone bidder before glancing at Ada. Her sister ran a finger down the intricately woven shawl that had once covered Ada’s shoulders and crown of glory, as her father had called her hair. A smile teased the corner of Dina’s lips. Her nose curled as she squinted. Ada’s other sisters paid her no heed. Their little elbow nudges and giggles told Ada they thought it all a game.
If only it were true. However, it seemed Dina was bent on revenge.
Why had she not listened to her mother’s warnings? Because she wanted Dina to love her, wanted all her sisters to love her as she loved them. Loneliness filled the cavity within her chest. One tear welled. It filled her eye, but Ada refused to let it fall.
“What say you, man? My dinner grows cold.” The Philistine pushed Ada forward. His fingers tangled in her hair. She pressed her lips together to keep her scream from pleasing Dina any further. The bidding man drew his hand over his beard. “Why spend so much on a weak and spoiled vessel? It is obvious she knows not of hard work. I keep my cow and give you one—” the man held up a small jar “—drink of wine.”
Scanning the crowd, Ada looked for her brother Asher, or anybody willing to save her. “Please, God,” she whispered.
The Philistine leaned closer. His disgusting breath wafted over her. “No god will save you, sweet. Not even the goddess our city honors with such a magnificent shrine.” Her captor motioned toward the mud-brick tower reaching into the darkening sky. “As you have no other bidders...”
The Philistine’s words disappeared as Ada caught sight of a man pushing through the crowd. He was tall, even taller than many of the warriors patrolling the city gates, and imposing. A large gold pendant rested on one sinewy shoulder, holding together the pieces of his tunic. Besides the gold bands circling his upper arms, his other shoulder and both arms remained bare. A wide leather belt cinched at his waist revealed just how massive his chest was. His skin was gold, bronzed from the sun. Dark curls sheared at his nape framed a chiseled jaw. His body bore the marks of war, such as she’d seen on her father and Asher, but his clothing told her he was not a man of humble means.
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
