Elaine Lowe - Command the Wind

An Elloras Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Command the Wind

ISBN 9781419920202

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Command the Wind Copyright 2009 Elaine Lowe

Edited by Helen Woodall

Cover art by Dar Albert

Electronic book Publication April 2009

The terms Romantica and Quickies are registered trademarks of Elloras Cave Publishing.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Elloras Cave Publishing, Inc. 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publishers permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the authors rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.

Command the Wind

Elaine Lowe

Dedication

For powerful women everywhere and the men who bring out the best in them. For my own personal ashava , who brings out the best in me.

Glossary

Ashavi/Ashava Companion, partner of life, soulmate .

Golden HindThe ship captained by Francis Drake, later Sir Francis Drake, which circumnavigated the world, ravaged Spanish shipping, and claimed the coast of Northern California for England as Nova Albion.

MagiA tribe of Iranian people highly respected as capable and wise leaders. They were followers of the Zoroastrian religion and so well known for their knowledge they gave rise to the word we use to apply to the supernatural talents, magic. They spread throughout the Middle East and India but no direct trace of their influence can be found after the tenth century AD when it is thought that religious wars within the Persian Empire brought about their disappearance. In fact, they still exist, hidden among many peoples of the world. Each son is handed the task of finding his lifemate or ashavi and releasing their combined powers.

RevengeAdmiral Sir Francis Drakes ship during the battles with the Spanish Armada.

Romani/RomCalled Gypsy by most from the mistaken belief they came from Egypt, these dynamic people roam all over Europe and now the Americas. Originally from India, their Romani language is closely related to the languages of the Indian subcontinent. Most have converted to Christianity but the importance of Sainte Sara la Kali is a reminder that they once worshipped the mother goddess Durga and her incarnation as the avenging Kali.

Sinti A group of the Romani that live farther to the north and west.

From the Scrolls of Nergal , Rab Magi

It is thus manifest, Power shapes Knowing. Knowing tempers Power.

Power is the gift of Being. For the aid of all and the joy of the Two.

Out of the Void. Finite and infinite.

Without Understanding, Power fades and dies.

With Understanding, Power becomes Knowing becomes Truth.

Truth is everlasting.

Power calls to Power. Searching for the key.

The key within the Two.

Infinite and Finite.

Love.

Chapter One

England, April 1588

The deck of the ship was awash in something out of the ordinary, sexual tension. It was not a unique condition for a sailor but it was perhaps the one time that all men on the ship felt the same way at the same time. The sailors stared toward port with longingfor wives, lovers, or whoever would take their coin and give them a quick ride. One man alone had no real hope of satisfaction.

Marcus Mares stared out across the rough gray sea of the Channel toward the wide mouth of Spithead and Portsmouth. The Peregrine skimmed the waves lovingly, the fastest ship on the seas, capable of outsailing any Moorish pirate corsair or lumbering Spanish Galleon. Tiny and sleek, her sails as responsive as the fingers of his hand, she was a thing of beauty. He would miss Peregrine and her crew. They took him as he was, odd as his position was, a lieutenant with a very peculiar set of duties. They were all friends and he would gladly serve with any of them in the future without question.

But Sir Frances Drake had summoned him and when Drake called trouble was usually sure to follow. Marcus remembered the fire and flames of Drakes daring attacks on Cadiz and La Corua last year. The Spanish had been bearded in their dens but Marcus knew they were coming. England was not safe, no matter if Her Majesty, Elizabeth Regina was their loyalty and their luck.

He closed his eyes and blew out a harsh breath, then inhaled the scent of land, of home, England. Opening his eyes once again, he took off the dark spectacles covering his eyes and looked toward Portsmouth.

As always, tension rushed through him, as he was pulled forward to look miles ahead of where his body stood. For Marcus Mares was no ordinary British sailor. Marcus Mares was a Magi, descendent of an ancient tribe, keeping the secrets of their existence and their talent for magic hidden for hundreds of years.

His gift was the gift of sight. Sight above and beyond any normal man. He could see a dolphin leaping in joy three miles distant, or the fear on a mans face at the same distance. He could look behind himself right now and glimpse the coast of France. Not as a gray blur as some might see on a clear day, but ships and houses, beaches and beacons.

Still, even with those amazing eyes, he had yet to find the one thing he most needed to find. His mate, his ashavi . The woman who would complete him and unleash the full force of their combined powers. Loyalty to country had taken precedence over the Search. England needed him and his gift. In the meantime, the older he got and the farther from the Search, sex wasnt satisfactory and frustration made him grind his teeth at night. He knew that if he didnt find some relief soon, he would go insane.

Hopefully, insanity wouldnt hit until after hed talked to Sir Francis on the morrow. The man might have a great sense of humor but the newly minted Vice Admiral of England had his limits. It would not do to report for duty in a gibbering frenzy. Perhaps it would be best to find that unobtainable quantity, a clean whoreor simply make do once again with his right hand and a vivid imagination.

Portsmouth was still leagues ahead since the tide was not their friend. It would be hours before frustrated sailors found their much anticipated relief. Still, with his eyesight, he could see the wives milling on the docks, the whores standing a bit farther away and tapping their tired feet in impatience. They looked sad and wretched, nothing he could bring himself to be interested in, no matter how desperate.

His golden eyes flickered for a moment away from the village and toward the opposite shore of Spithead. The Isle of Wight stood firm, weathering the spring weather with the stoicism that made England, well, England. The white chalk of the Culver Cliffs shone like a beacon, warning ships of the dangerous reefs surrounding the Isle. The light was so bright that even under the gray overcast skies he could barely squint at the cliffs without flinching. He blinked, determined to look away, when something caught his attention.