Dion’s eyes burned, but he didn’t wipe them, instead meeting Palemon’s stare directly.
‘One day, you will learn your place,’ Palemon growled. ‘And one day you will realize that it was your own actions that led to your woman’s death. Then, when you do, you will kneel before me.’
For a time the two men stared grimly at each other, until a clatter of footsteps echoed from the stone walls and a new voice broke the silence.
‘Sire,’ Kyphos said, his voice urgent. ‘Zara and the others are ready. It’s time.’
‘I leave you to your thoughts,’ Palemon said to Dion. Kyphos cast a glance in Dion’s direction, before Palemon followed the hunchback away.
As soon as they’d left, Dion gasped and immediately slid down the wall until he was once more on the ground. Standing for so long had taken a toll on his body. It would take him time to regain his strength.
He looked down at the hard stone floor, pondering. Palemon was right. He did have some thinking to do.
He remembered Isobel’s smile, and the way she’d boldly leaped into the cold pool at the waterfall. She’d been so nervous and excited to be carrying his child. But instead of being tended by the priestesses and being given warmth and love, instead of experiencing the joy of being a new mother, she’d suffered pain and horror, before her life was taken away from her.
Of course Dion blamed himself for failing her. He had replayed his attempted escape through his mind again and again, thinking about how events could have played out differently.
But there was one thing he knew above all. It was that if Isobel’s death was anyone’s fault, it was Palemon’s.
And if he wanted revenge, he would need to be patient.
Palemon clutched the reins in his left hand, feeling the dragon beneath him utterly under his control. This steed wasn’t as powerful as his last, but it was still the biggest of the group, a charcoal-colored dragon with wings that stretched out for dozens of feet at both sides – the young woman from the market was bent to his will. With every mental command, the living weapon underneath him responded instantly.
High in the sky, wearing armor of steel links, Palemon flew at the apex of a wedge of six riders. Glancing over his shoulder, he checked on the other five dragons, all mounted by sorcerers, nodding when he saw that every one of them held his or her fire staff, ready to unleash their power. He pointed with his sword and veered, and the rest of the formation followed suit. Just behind him, Zara sat upon a smaller jet-black dragon, flying close enough for Palemon to see the flash of her white teeth as she smiled.
It was deepest night and difficult to read the terrain, but he could make out the strip of black water that could only be the Shadrian Passage. The group of six was approaching Verai, the city’s lights glittering like a jewel.
Palemon ordered his dragon to descend, and those behind him followed suit. Swooping over the Shadrian Passage, he led his magi toward the city by following the coast, slightly out to sea to avoid detection. Half a mile below, fishing boats and rocky coves vanished behind them; the group of dragons was traveling at speed. The number of vessels increased as they flew over storehouses, and then finally Palemon saw the wide curve of Verai’s harbor, a stretch of sandy shore a mile or two ahead, enclosed at both ends by fingers of stone.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the landing barges were still there, although they appeared to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. The wide, slow-moving, flat-bottomed vessels would only be able to make the crossing to Ilea on a day with perfectly still weather.
He raised his sword and cried out.
The vessels were drawn up on the shore, side by side, becoming larger as the dragons descended. There were dozens of barges, and Palemon needed to destroy all of them. Distant cries of terrified men filled the air as people on the shore stared up at the sky.
The wedge of dragons now broke formation as every rider selected a target. Crimson fire lit up at the ends of the sorcerers’ staffs. Each dragon circled over its chosen vessel and then swooped.
Balls of flame began to rain down on the barges.
Speeding through the air, the orbs of fire rolled over and over before striking the barges’ polished timbers in showers of sparks. Flame licked the decks in the wake of every salvo. The dragon riders swept over the nearest vessels and then flew up, choosing their next targets before descending once again.
More coiled flames shot from iron claws. An inferno soon raged below, following the harbor’s arc, as ship after ship was set aflame.
Palemon ordered his dragon to slow and hovered just above a barge’s deck, touching his sword to the rolled-up sailcloth horizontal to the mast. Bringing on his fury and channeling to his sword – the weapon he’d brought across the sea, once carried by Palemon the First – he felt savage triumph as the steel began to glow and then flame ignited the sailcloth. He climbed into the sky again, directing the dragon to fly on to the next ship.
He ignited three more and then ascended to a lofty height, watching as his magi rained their power onto the landing craft. They all knew not to leave a single vessel untouched, and he nodded in satisfaction, looking on as ship after ship blazed, checking along the line, scanning to see if any were missed. When Zara came to join him, he raised his sword again and the riders once more brought their dragons into a wedge formation.
Palemon smiled. The Ilean king, Kargan, may have powerful armies, but if he couldn’t transport them across the Shadrian Passage, he would never be able to attack Malakai by land.
Kargan would have no choice. He was a former naval commander. Ilea’s fleet was the largest in the world. He would come by sea.
And Palemon needed a fleet of his own.
He lifted his glowing sword and pointed back in the direction of Malakai.
36
Kargan, King of Kings, ruler of the Ilean Empire, paced the terrace outside his audience chamber, occasionally glancing out at the harbor, other times glaring at the towering man who stood with his hands hooked into his trousers, his broad face expressionless as always.
‘This is taking far too long,’ Kargan said. He swept his arms to indicate the sky, where just a handful of clouds drifted in the breeze. ‘Surely this is fair enough weather?’
‘The Shadrian Passage is windy,’ Javid said. ‘The general must choose his time, and make the crossing with care, or you will lose ships and, more importantly, men.’
‘I would gladly lose a barge or two if it meant we recaptured Malakai swiftly.’ Kargan’s eyes narrowed. ‘The treasury is running low. My soldiers get paid by the day. Do I need to explain the situation further?’
‘You think General Rhian is being overcautious?’ Javid asked.
Kargan scratched his beard. ‘It’s possible. Perhaps I should have given command to Dhuma. He showed leadership in bringing so many men home.’ He finally made a decision. ‘Time is running out. Come with me.’
Kargan left the terrace and strode back into the audience chamber, with Javid following close on his heels. As always, ever since Malakai’s capture, Kargan scowled when he saw the tapestry with the map of the seven cities of the Ilean Empire. Passing the throne, he leveled his gaze on one of the palace guards standing with his spear held in front of his chest.
‘You,’ Kargan ordered. ‘Go and find me a messenger.’
The guard bowed. ‘At once, Great King.’
Kargan impatiently paced the length of the throne room while he waited. He glanced at Javid, wondering if his adviser and bodyguard was curious about what he was about to do, but the man’s expression was too inscrutable to know.
‘Great King?’ The messenger finally entered. A lanky youth with a neatly trimmed beard, he had the long legs and muscled flanks of a runner, and would be as capable on horseback as he was on foot.
Kargan faced the messenger, glowering at him, but inwardly pleased when he saw that the youth’s gaze remained steady. ‘I want you to make all haste to General Rhian, or failing him, Captain D
huma.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘You know where they are?’
‘With the army. On the shores of the Shadrian Passage.’
‘Good lad. Tell them that unless there’s a storm to end all storms, they are to cross the passage with all haste. Tell them I understand it’s best to have fair weather, but every day they wait is costing the treasury too much money. Understood?’
‘Of course, Great King. When should I leave?’
‘Immediately!’ Kargan barked.
‘Great King,’ Kargan heard Javid say softly, the words meant for his ears alone.
Kargan rounded on Javid. But then he saw that Javid was looking at the arched entrance to the audience chamber. Following Javid’s gaze, Kargan’s eyes opened wide.
A palace guard was leading an older man into the room. With weathered skin and sharp features, the newcomer clutched his helmet under his arm and wore a captain’s insignia over his well-worn leather armor. He bowed when he entered, and Kargan frowned when he saw heavy shadows under his eyes; he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
‘Dhuma?’ Kargan asked incredulously. ‘What in the names of all the gods are you doing here?’
‘King of Kings . . .’ Dhuma hesitated. ‘I came personally to bring important news.’
‘Leave us.’ Kargan swept his chin at the messenger. ‘Ignore what you heard.’
The youth ran out of the room, leaving Kargan facing Dhuma. Kargan raised an eyebrow expectantly.
‘News?’ Kargan growled. ‘You crossed the passage? General Rhian is ill? Well, what is it?’
‘The barges . . . They’re all gone. Every last ship . . . burned to ash.’
Kargan felt heat come to his face. ‘Burned? By whom?’
Dhuma swallowed but stood fast. ‘While the barges were still in Verai, there was a raid. People . . . People on the backs of dragons. They set them all on fire.’
‘Is this some kind of joke?’ Kargan spluttered. ‘Were you there yourself?’
‘No, Great King. But I brought witnesses. They say there was a man leading the raid. He was tall, and carried a glowing sword, and had a braided beard. It is clear that this must be the same warrior I saw kill your cousin on the walls of Malakai. Even many of my men now know the name Palemon. There were six of them, all on the backs of dragons. The five who rode behind Palemon were fire-wielding sorcerers.’
‘Ridiculous,’ Kargan snorted.
To Kargan’s surprise, rather than continue to keep his distance, Javid came forward to stand beside him and Dhuma. Normally, joining them would have been a serious breach of protocol, but Dhuma was obviously too fatigued and worried to care.
‘Lord Kargan, you should take this seriously.’ Javid frowned. ‘When I was a child,’ he said in the irritating lecturing tone he sometimes used, ‘my mother told me stories about Aleuthea. There were always dragons involved – dragons, giants, and serpents. We have all heard that the Aleutheans killed the eldren and destroyed their homeland, but have you ever wondered why?’ Javid spread his hands. ‘From a small island nation, they were powerful enough to dominate the rest of the world. We must face the truth. It appears that this Palemon may be who he says he is.’
‘Tell me, Javid, what did the stories say about fire-wielding sorcerers?’ Kargan growled. ‘And about a man with a glowing sword?’
‘The Aleutheans possessed magic. Wizards with staffs appear in all of our myths. Sometimes they help the heroes in the stories, providing guidance and prophecy; other times they terrorize a village or a town, and it is the hero who must defeat the sorcerer to reclaim the princess.’
Kargan shook his head. He turned back to Dhuma. ‘You say there were six of them?’
Dhuma nodded.
‘Just six. No matter how powerful they are, we can deal with six. And we were unprepared for an attack from the sky. We may have lost our barges, but we have a powerful fleet here in Lamara.’
Kargan began to pace again as he pondered.
‘Dhuma, I’m ordering the army home,’ he said. ‘We won’t attempt to cross the Shadrian Passage again. We have to put them down, and quickly. No land crossings. We need to assault Malakai directly.’
‘You have my agreement,’ Dhuma said.
Kargan punched his fist into his palm. ‘This time we’ll travel over water. I’ll lead the fleet personally, through the Chasm and into the Aleuthean Sea. We’ll embark from Lamara, warships in the lead, filled with archers. We’ll bring the infantry in a second wave.’
‘I’ll talk to the captains,’ Dhuma said. ‘Some of them have experience fighting wildren.’
‘Good, good.’ Kargan clenched his jaw. ‘Send a fast messenger to General Rhian. Tell him to make all speed for Lamara. By the time the army returns, I’ll have every bireme ready to depart. We’ll soon end this once and for all.’
37
Chloe gazed up at the tall, circular tower, wondering what its purpose was. She glanced at Liana, walking beside her. There was a tightness around her friend’s eyes: Liana was anxious, echoing Chloe’s own mood. They were both strangers here, and if Malakai was truly where they’d taken Dion and Isobel, then they were in a city ruled by people whose intentions were clearly hostile.
Together they took in the sights of a city that was dirty and grand, dilapidated and beautiful. Many of the walls were crumbling, made of rust-colored mud brick, but others were well made and clad with venous marble, smooth to the touch and glistening in the midday sun. Sagging shop fronts in market squares faced proud statues that would impress the master craftsmen of Phalesia. The streets were filled with a greater variety of people than anywhere she’d been except Lamara: desert clansmen wrapped in cloth, dark-skinned traders with small armies of personal guards, swarthy slaves carrying nobles in covered litters, and commoners in bright-colored tunics.
Chloe was glad that the streets generally followed a simple grid. She could pretend to walk with purpose; she didn’t want her and Liana to be singled out as foreigners. She still carried her staff, but she’d removed the silver device from the top, keeping it in her satchel, and now the staff simply looked like a traveler’s walking stick.
Despite the wide variety of people in Malakai, she was worried about Liana. Again she glanced at her friend. Dressed in a dusty, plain chiton the same gray color as the paved avenue, the slight eldran had dyed her shoulder-length hair red with henna, as she’d once done to disguise herself in Phalesia. But like Chloe, Liana wasn’t wearing a necklace, and glancing at the passing city folk, Chloe could see that this singled them out.
‘Which way?’ Liana murmured.
Chloe scanned ahead, deciding to travel where the city appeared to be denser. ‘Right.’
‘What are we looking for?’
‘We need necklaces. Have you seen? Not a soul without one.’
They turned into a broad avenue with wide gates at the far end revealing the distant sea; this road appeared to lead to the harbor, with rows and rows of tightly packed structures on both sides, enclosed by the looming walls. Markets lined both sides of the boulevard, and seeing a row of craft stalls, Chloe moved to the side of the street and paused at the junction to a side alley. She unfastened the belt holding her chiton and slid out three silver coins from the inside fold.
‘Hold these?’
Liana shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
‘Sorry.’ Chloe smiled, and instead kept the coins in her palm as she tied the belt around her garment once more. Touching Liana’s arm, she then approached the stalls.
She inspected the wares, moving along from one vendor to the next, leaving the tiny statues of gods and goddesses behind and ignoring the hawkers’ pleas until finally she saw the glint of jewelry. Coming to a table where necklaces hung from a vertical board with rows of little pegs, she began to scan the display.
‘All the finest quality.’ The vendor was an older man with graying hair and an imperious manner. ‘Pure copper.’ He waved a hand over another section. ‘Also pure silver. You are interested in gold? I can s
how you gold also.’
Chloe glanced at Liana before addressing the vendor. ‘Do you have any bronze?’
The vendor frowned. ‘No bronze. By decree, the necklace must be pure.’
Chloe raised an inquiring eyebrow at her friend and Liana gave a slight nod. Running her eyes over the display, Chloe pointed out two copper necklaces, with matching circular medallions displaying the cross and double loop of Aeris. ‘How much for these two?’
‘For two beautiful women such as yourselves, a special price. Two Ilean drachmas or three Shadrian dinari.’
‘This is all I have.’ Chloe handed over a Phalesian silver eagle, making sure he didn’t see she had more.
‘May I?’ The old vendor indicated the scale on his table and Chloe nodded. He weighed the coin and examined the imprint of the eagle. ‘Foreign coins. Phalesian, yes? I have seen these before. You have come a long way, yes?’
Chloe lifted her chin without replying, fixing him with a stare. ‘Is it enough?’
The vendor hesitated, but then finally nodded. ‘The silver is good. Two of these coins.’
‘I told you I have just the one.’ Chloe held out her hand. ‘Give me back my coin. There are other markets.’
He suddenly spread his arms and smiled. ‘A lucky day. The most special of prices for the two beautiful ladies. May the good King Palemon bless you both.’
He handed Chloe the necklaces. ‘Thank you,’ she said, turning away. But then, with a start of realization, her brow furrowed as she glanced back at him. ‘Did you just say Palemon?’
He looked slightly worried. ‘Palemon is king of Malakai. He is a good king. A gracious king. He liberated us from Ilea.’
Copper Chain (The Shifting Tides Book 3) Page 23
