Land! I love you, land!” Terix threw himself down on the pier to kiss the stones. “I’ll never leave you again.”

I was tempted to do the same, stumbling on my sea legs to a wooden crate and plopping down upon it. Bone had already galloped off, lifting his leg on goods waiting to be loaded onto ships, and leaving a pile of dung in the center of the pier. Angry curses from a sailor marked the moment that dung met his foot.

The early August sun shone down on the port of Burdigala, reflecting off the golden stones of walls and the terra-cotta roof tiles, and heating up the usual stench of a port: rotting fish, tar, seaweed, wood smoke, and the waste of animals and humans. The breeze that kept us cool on board ship had disappeared as soon as we tied up to the pier, and already I could feel sweat breaking out beneath the finery I wore.

Three weeks ago I, Terix, Bone, the maids Polina and Winne, and a cadre of ten soldiers including their captain—a solid, serious Frank named Fenwig—had set off on horseback from Soissons for Juliobona, a port on the north shore of Gaul. There we’d left our horses and boarded this merchant ship, which had taken us through storms and winds, waves and seasickness, and hundreds of miles of ocean until, after two weeks at sea, we at last arrived in Burdigala. We were on the southwest coast of Gaul, near the great Pyrenees Mountains, which separated Gaul from Hispania. I was happy to finally be on land, the lurching, rolling, stomach-turning movements of a ship at sea over at last.

For now, at least. There was the journey home to be dreaded, but I wouldn’t think about that.

Terix rolled onto his back and lay spread-eagle, looking up at the sky. “Can you feel it, Nimia?”

“What?

He sighed in pleasure. “Nothing’s moving.”

“Your clothes are getting dirty.” He was wearing Frankish garb, an embroidered tunic and short breeches, and a short cape pinned to his shoulders—an unnecessary addition in the August heat, but Basina had insisted that my entourage be nearly as finely dressed as she had arranged that I be. For me to be perceived as a person of consequence, my people must be dressed well, too. “I’m not sure you’re projecting the right note of dignified ambassador, lying there.”

“Dignity can go take it up the arse.” He sat up and shaded his eyes with his hand, gazing down the pier toward town. “Is there a tavern nearby? There must be. Ports are full of taverns.”

“Prostitutes, too.”

“Did I mention how much I love land?”

I saw Fenwig heading toward us. The soldiers and maids had been overseeing the transfer of our trunks and baggage from the ship to hired wagons at the end of the pier.

“My lady,” he said when he reached us. “Bishop Callodorus has sent his litter for you.”

I pushed myself to my feet, still feeling the rocking of the ship. “I would rather walk, but that would never do, would it?”

“No, my lady.” Did a whisper of a smile touch his stern lips? I wasn’t sure. Over the weeks of our journey I’d come to respect his unflagging discipline and even temper, but had caught only glimmers of the man behind the stoic face. I didn’t know if he liked me, and didn’t know if he’d ever paused to consider the question. I did know that he took his role as captain of my bodyguard seriously, and permitted no laxness in his men. I suspected he had no greater terror than of failing in his duty—not for my sake so much as for his own honor.

Terix and I followed Fenwig down the pier. Remigius had arranged for us to stay with Callodorus until Sidonius Apollinaris arrived, then together we would travel up the Garumna River to Tolosa and Alaric’s court. We were in the Visigoth kingdom now, and I found myself glad that Remigius had so many fellow bishops and priests he could call on to help ease our way.

We stepped off the pier and onto the bustling waterfront, crowded with wagons, piles of goods, sailors, merchants, laborers, oxen, and asses. The bishop’s litter and bearers were waiting across the way in the shade of a warehouse, and Terix went to fetch Bone away from his pursuit of a quayside bitch as I followed in Fenwig’s wake.

A man stepped in front of me, blocking my path, and clasped my shoulders in strong hands. “It’s you!”

Startled, I looked up into the dark eyes of the pirate-trader, Jax. “You!” I said back, and felt a shock of fear. The last time I had seen him had been in a stable, after he’d tried to take more from my body than I had wanted to give, and then accidentally killed the elderly peddler who’d tried to rescue me.

His eyes roved down over my coiffed hair, my fine gown of burgundy cotton with gold embroidery, and the heavy, broad gold necklace that covered half my décolletage. It was worked into the form of a labyrinth, at the center of which was mounted my gold and garnet bee. “Looks like you landed on your feet. No more selling your favors for ship’s passage, eh? Too bad. We never did finish, and I’ve found myself regretting that more than the reward I didn’t collect.”

During our stable tumble, Jax had realized that I was the escaped slave girl for whom a reward of ten solidi was being offered. I was still too startled now at the sight of him to do more than gape. He was as lean and outrageously confident as I remembered, and as dangerously appealing. Lust shimmered over my body, making my breasts tighten.

The blade of a short sword appearing at the side of Jax’s neck saved me from having to answer. “Unhand the lady,” Fenwig said.

Jax’s hands caressed my shoulders once, then lifted off.

“It’s all right, Fenwig,” I said, finding my voice. “I know him.”

“Though not as well as I wish,” Jax said.

The blade pressed harder against Jax’s skin, but not so much as a spark of alarm showed in his eyes. It might as well have been a kitten nuzzling his neck, for all it did to intimidate him.

“He’s harmless,” I said to Fenwig—a gross lie—and gestured for him to lower his sword.

Fenwig did so with a black look for Jax, and then tilted his head toward the litter. “My lady?”

I nodded and lifted my skirts to follow. I had only taken a few steps when Jax called to me. “Nimia?”

I turned, brows raised in question.

He stepped closer and lowered his head, speaking quietly. “The red-haired man you warned me about—you saved my life. If ever you need help that I can give, ask for it. I am in your debt.” Too quick for me to stop him, he slid one hand behind my neck and pressed a searing kiss to my lips. It was hard, and so fast that my cunny didn’t pulse with the thrill of it until after he’d released me and danced far out of the reach of Fenwig’s blade. He saluted me with one hand and gave me a jaunty grin. “As you know, my lady, I pride myself on being an honorable dishonorable man.”

As I watched him saunter off, all narrow hips and broad shoulders, my cunny gave a petulant pulse at being denied him. I was nearly as disappointed as Jax that we’d never finished what we started.

And I tucked away the knowledge that there was a pirate who felt himself in my debt.