‘How long?’ Dion asked.
‘A few months after you, I believe,’ Eiric said. He glanced again at Dion and Chloe’s retinue, who all looked anxious to be reunited with their king and queen. ‘You had best go and see your people. We will catch up properly later.’
Dion and Chloe crossed the pavilion to greet the rest of their group. Dion was speaking with Consul Gaius when he heard the steward call out.
‘Lord Finn of East Farm.’
Finn entered and performed a deep bow with an elaborate flourish. Dion exchanged rueful glances with Chloe; Finn’s theatrical manner and garish style of dress were starting to become a fashion in Phalesia. He was as slim as ever and wore a rakish felt hat. His bright-green tunic was almost certainly carefully chosen, given their location in Sindara.
Finn hadn’t come from Xanthos, which was why he had arrived separately. He had inherited Glaukos’s immense estate far from the city, and had doubled the size of the flocks of goats and sheep. It was rumored that he was also about to enjoy one of the most bountiful grape harvests ever recorded. He was still Dion and Chloe’s master of trade and treasury, and fortunately his energy was limitless, especially now that he had to worry about all of Galea.
Eiric and Liana welcomed Finn and the courtiers he’d brought with him. Finn then sauntered over to Dion. ‘King Dion, Queen Chloe.’ He gave another bow. ‘Did you see? I presented Eiric and Liana with my first wine of the season. Sorry’ – he grinned and spread his hands – ‘but Eiric is the host, and you can try it another time. Good to get together away from the business of the kingdom, isn’t it?’
‘Indeed, Finn,’ Chloe said, laughing as he kissed her hand.
‘Have you seen the old man?’ Dion muttered. ‘It’s not like him to be late.’
‘No . . .’ Finn scanned in all directions.
The pavilion was rapidly filling with people. Dion saw Lothar of Koulis arrive, his ancient steps supported by one of the younger members of the Council of Five. Dion watched Eiric welcome them to the gathering.
‘You’re right,’ Finn said. ‘It’s not like the old man to be late.’
‘King Kargan, ruler of the Ilean Empire,’ the steward suddenly called. ‘Lord of the Six Cities. Defender of Ilea, Shadria, and Haria.’
Dion saw Kargan, wearing an orange robe belted with yellow, stride imperiously into the immense living pavilion. He had grown his beard longer, and it jutted out from his chin, as dark as his mop of hair. Eiric and Liana waited to welcome him, but before he did anything else, Kargan leaned in to murmur something in the steward’s ear.
‘And Lord Javid, king’s champion,’ the steward announced.
Kargan turned and waited for Javid to reach his side. Dion’s eyes widened when he saw Javid out of his usual leather vest and trousers. Instead the athletic Ilean, taller than anyone except Eiric, wore a silk tunic over loose brown trousers threaded with gold. His wiry hair was still pulled back behind his head, but rather than a leather cord, it was tied with a golden clasp.
It took some time for the large group of Ileans to enter, and soon the interior of the pavilion didn’t look as big as it once had. While Dion spoke to Chloe and Finn, out of the corner of his eye he saw Kargan talking to Lothar, making points by pressing his finger into the palm of his hand.
Finally Kargan made his way over to where Dion was standing. ‘King Dion,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know if I’d come, but then I got your message. You can be persuasive when you want to be. Still, it was the name you chose for the gathering that did it.’
‘Eiric and I chose it together,’ Dion said. He gave Kargan a wry smile. ‘I’m sure you remember my queen, Chloe?’
Kargan barked a laugh. ‘How could I forget?’ He shook his head. ‘Lady, I hope all is forgiven. It was a long time ago now.’
‘Time changes us all,’ Chloe said graciously. ‘And heals many wounds. Only a fool stands still when the world moves around him.’
‘Well said.’ Kargan chuckled. ‘I’m proud to say I’ve found my own way to move on.’ He glanced at Dion and looked pointedly at the pavilion’s entrance.
The conversation in the room stilled as people began to spy the next guest to arrive. Shorter than everyone else in the room, the newcomer walked with an odd gait, given his hunchback, but was obviously comfortable in his own skin. He wore a gray vest and black trousers, and his shaggy hair was as dark as his eyes. A slender woman in a tight-fitting chiton walked beside him.
‘King Kyphos of New Aleuthea,’ the steward announced, ‘and Lady Nashita of Lamara.’
‘My niece,’ Kargan murmured to Dion. Dion turned to Kargan and saw him grin. ‘Now that was a good match. Look at him. He’s besotted with her. Trust me, they will be married before the year is done.’
Dion watched Kyphos and saw that Kargan made a good point; as Kyphos spoke with Eiric, he kept glancing at his companion, drinking in her features. Kargan moved away, and Dion rejoined Chloe. Together they exchanged greetings with Lothar and his lords, and then Kyphos came over alone.
‘King Dion,’ Kyphos said gruffly. ‘I want to tell you that I appreciate what you said in your message.’ He put out his hand, and Dion took it. The hunchback’s grip was firm. ‘I am certain we will be firm allies.’
‘There is something I want, however,’ Dion said.
‘What?’ Kyphos’s thick black eyebrows came together.
‘I want to hear the tale of your voyage, firsthand, from you.’ Dion smiled. ‘There are so many versions, and I want to know what truly happened.’
Kyphos grinned. ‘Of course. But I still don’t think you’ll believe it.’
The pavilion now thronged with people, and conversation grew from a steady hum to a loud rumble. Eldren mingled with humans, Galean captains spoke with ladies from faraway realms, and everywhere people spoke with awe at what they’d seen of Sindara’s beauty.
Finally Eiric raised his arms and crossed to the middle of the floor. Light from the ceiling of woven boughs filtered through to strike his silver hair as gradually the pavilion fell silent.
‘Greetings, all of you,’ Eiric began.
‘King Eiric,’ Dion spoke up. ‘My apologies, but we are still waiting on someone.’
Eiric tilted his head. He scanned the faces around him, perplexed, and then a loud growling voice came from somewhere outside.
‘I told you there was a storm coming.’
A woman’s even louder voice replied. ‘And that’s why I said we should take a different ship.’
‘Don’t try to blame this on me.’
‘Who else’s fault is it?’
‘By Silex, I think we’re late. Should we go inside?’
‘What do you think?’ the woman barked.
The pavilion was so silent that the voices easily came through the walls of willow. Dion smiled with relief, and then he glanced at Chloe. She met his eyes and shook her head, returning his wry grin.
‘Lord Cobrim and Lady Roxana of Fort Liberty,’ the steward announced a moment later.
Cob stomped in with Roxana at his side. He wore a fine-looking tunic, but it was tangled up, and his bald head was sunburned. Roxana, taller and broader than he was, wore a costume somewhere between man and woman’s clothing, with both trousers and embroidered tunic.
Cob’s mouth dropped open when he realized that everyone was staring at him and Roxana. He saw Eiric standing in the center of the pavilion and then spied Dion waving at them to come over.
‘Now that we are all present,’ Eiric said with a smile as Cob and Roxana joined Dion and Chloe, ‘I wish to thank you all for making the journey to be here. It is no easy task, but it is what we must do to promote peace and stability throughout the world, so that our sons and daughters may thrive.’
Dion reached out to take Chloe’s hand.
Eiric continued, ‘We have all agreed to meet every year on the anniversary of the great battle fought on Sindara’s shore, and this is to be the first of many gatherings. As a child I was always taught
that communication is the key that can open all doors.’
Dion felt a shift in the mood inside the pavilion. The faces he saw were gravely serious. He looked out at the people he no longer thought of as either subjects or rivals. Many he now thought of as friends, and he hoped that they thought the same of him.
‘Welcome,’ Eiric said. ‘Welcome to the first Conference of Zachary.’
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My sincere gratitude to the team at 47North for being wonderful to work with at all stages of the publishing process, with particular thanks to my editor, Emilie.
Eternal thanks go to Ian, for tireless editorial efforts and reliable persistence, and to my amazing readers: Aleah, Amanda, Amy, Harley, Julie, Lynn, and Nicole.
Thanks to all of you who have reached out to me and taken the time to post reviews of my books.
Finally thanks must go to my wife, Alicia. We share these dreams together.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2015 Anna Niman
James Maxwell grew up in the scenic Bay of Islands, New Zealand, and was educated in Australia. Devouring fantasy and science-fiction classics from an early age, his love for books translated to a passion for writing, which he began at the age of eleven.
Inspired by the natural beauty around him but also by a strong interest in history, he decided in his twenties to see the world. He relocated to London and then to Thailand, Mexico, Austria, and Malta, developing a lifelong obsession with travel. It was while living in Thailand that he seriously took up writing again, producing his first full-length novel, Enchantress, the first of four titles in his internationally bestselling Evermen Saga.
Iron Will is the fourth and final novel in his latest series, The Shifting Tides.
When he isn’t writing or traveling, James enjoys sailing, snowboarding, classical guitar, and French cooking.
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