Chloe nodded and her father smiled softly, indicating that she move to the side with his eyes. She left the floor’s center but didn’t sit with the other consuls, instead standing near the steps, her arms folded over her chest.
Aristocles looked down at the floor as if pensive, before raising his gaze to cast his eyes over the crowd. He somehow managed to look at everyone, even Chloe.
‘We have heard impassioned arguments today. As your elected first consul I wished to hear the many opinions before revealing some new information that sheds light on our situation . . . and before imparting my own thoughts for your consideration.’
The mention of new information made many of the consuls frown. Consul Harod tugged his beard thoughtfully. Chloe had always known her father to be a gifted speaker, but she’d never been able to see him address the Assembly at the lyceum. With just a few words he had seized control of the dialog, while making his potential opponents curious rather than combative.
Aristocles let the silence hang for a time. It was difficult to have conflict in a room full of silence. He gave the impression of a thoughtful man who had pondered at length and was now prepared to share his wisdom with his peers.
‘I have visited with the priests and magi from all the temples,’ Aristocles said. ‘All concur. We are not being punished by the gods, we are being warned. The thunder with no clouds and the tremor in deepest night, followed by the extinguishing of the eternal flame at the Temple of Aldus . . . this is no punishment but an omen. We are being warned of terrible danger.’
Chloe saw that every citizen’s eyes were now on her father; every consul leaned forward, eager to hear his words. Aristocles felt the same way Chloe did about the eldren, but he hadn’t needed to mention them once in order to bury the notion that the gods were somehow angry that he had shown a hand of friendship to their race. Instead of confronting Harod’s emotional rhetoric directly, Aristocles had given them what they wanted: an answer.
‘Phalesia is in danger,’ Aristocles repeated with the utmost gravity, tilting his head back to include even the men on the highest tiers. ‘This is a warning we must take seriously. You now ask yourselves: From where will the danger come?’
A sudden commotion interrupted the first consul’s next words. On the high steps the crowd stirred, jostled by a newcomer. A bare-chested sailor in coarse trousers pushed through the crowd, clambering down the steps to get past those he shoved aside in his haste. The sailor was panting and had evidently run directly to the lyceum as fast as he was able.
‘First Consul!’ the sailor wheezed, reaching the bottom of the steps and placing his hands on his hips as he fought to regain his breath. ‘I come from the harbor. We’ve been on patrol.’ He drew in a deep breath. ‘There’s a ship!’
4
The consuls all stood and came forward; any decorum that usually existed at the lyceum had long departed.
‘Ship?’ Consul Nilus said, his round face looking quizzical. ‘What ship?’
‘A warship, Consul,’ the sailor said.
Aristocles addressed the crowd. ‘This Assembly is adjourned.’ He made a swift decision. ‘Someone fetch Amos and the city guard.’
Chloe looked at the consuls who were close enough to hear her father’s request. The sailor was exhausted, and every one of the onlookers was at least fifty years old.
‘I’ll go,’ she said.
Her father nodded, and Chloe turned to race up the steps, fighting against the push of those trying to get closer to find out what was happening. Finally she emerged into fresh air and began to run, bounding down from the lyceum to the agora and then sprinting down the series of paths to the lower city.
The barracks were both lodging house and training ground for the men in the Phalesian army. An arched entrance opened directly onto the training ground, with a sandy floor providing room for even horses to train with space to spare. A row of buildings at the back provided storage for food and weapons, a communal mess, and sleeping chambers for the resident soldiers. Those who had homes in the city generally saved their coin and stayed with family, but the guards who called the barracks home had the cost of food and board deducted from their wages.
She found Amos bent over a basin as he washed dust from his face and neck. He didn’t see her at first, and she thought, not for the first time, that the crags on the weathered skin of his face would have made him recognizable among a crowd of hundreds. She wondered if he’d once been handsome; it was now impossible to tell. But he was brave and loyal, and had a reputation as a skilled warrior as well as a respected leader. He wore his dark hair short and she couldn’t remember ever seeing him out of uniform.
‘Captain,’ Chloe said.
He glanced up, surprised to see her.
‘A warship has been sighted. My father says to bring as many men as you can quickly gather to the embankment.’
Ever the professional, Amos simply nodded. ‘The men are in the mess. We’ll come immediately. Tell your father.’
Chloe ran back to the embankment, where the seaward side of the agora dropped down to the shore in a sloped defensive bastion. She was soon standing beside Aristocles and the other consuls as they watched the strange ship approach.
Her first thought was that it was obviously damaged. It listed to the side and appeared difficult to maneuver as it navigated the harbor and headed for a bare patch of shore at the small bay’s far end. The sail was down and it was moving through the water by oars alone, while to Chloe’s eyes the mast was at a strange angle. The tide was coming in and pushed the ship almost into the rocks at the headland, before a burst of speed from the rowers nudged the vessel past danger.
Chloe’s next thought was that it was undoubtedly a warship. Though the ship was a galley, it was unlike any galley she had ever seen. Oars jutted out on both sides, more oars than she would have believed possible to fit into a ship of its size, and she realized that it actually had two rows of benches, one row on top of the other. Each tier was open at the side and she saw rowers moving back and forth in laborious unison. Above the top level of rowers was a deck that formed a roof above their heads.
Soldiers stood on the top deck: leather-armored marines, swarthy men with spears and triangular shields. An eye was painted on either side of the warship’s prow, which curved out in a bowsprit and then back under the water in an iron-tipped ram just below the waterline. The ship flew a strange flag, a solid orange circle on a field of yellow.
Her final thought was that she’d never seen such a large warship. It was at least eighty feet long and must have employed well over a hundred men in its service. It made the Phalesian war galleys, presently pulled up on shore, appear puny in comparison.
‘Back! Everyone back!’ Chloe heard Amos’s voice.
The crowd moved back from the edge of the embankment to let the soldiers gain access to the set of narrow steps leading down to the shore. Each hoplite looked resplendent in his short skirt of leather strips, leather breastplate, and leather helm, while Amos’s helm was made of shining steel, crowned by a crest of horsehair dyed with indigo. Captain Amos and his subcommanders all wore blue cloaks, and Chloe counted ten units in total, which meant that a hundred men were soon assembling on the beach under the captain’s direction.
Finally, Amos turned back to face Chloe’s father, his head tilted back and legs apart as he looked at the embankment high above and waited for orders.
‘It must have been damaged in the same event,’ Consul Nilus whispered.
‘Who are they? What flag is that?’
Chloe watched as the warship left the deep water to enter the lighter blue of the shallows. Phalesia’s harbor was a crescent-shaped beach of smooth white stones with headlands and cliffs at both ends. It was large enough to easily accommodate Phalesia’s entire fleet but not immense, its size making for easier defense, for any enemies would have difficulty making a secret landing.
‘Captain!’ Aristocles called down to Amos. ‘Move to intercept their men as the
y disembark, but greet them with civility before you bring their leader to me. Respond to force in kind.’
‘At once, First Consul,’ Amos said.
The captain led his men along the beach until they were ranged above the high-water mark, showing discipline as they formed up one after the other, turning to wait in a wide phalanx. Chloe watched the warship beach itself before the rowers jumped out the sides, plunging into water up to their waists. They hauled the vessel higher and higher, timing their movements to a coordinated grunt.
Finally, with the warship hauled above the tide line, a ramp marked with regular steps slid down from the top deck. With long practice the dark-skinned rowers leaned the gangway up against the pebbled shore.
A solitary man left the upper deck to descend the ramp. He was too far away for Chloe to see much of his features, but she gained an impression of a warrior’s physique contrasted with opulent orange robes.
Captain Amos went down to the end of the gangway. He removed his helmet to offer greeting as the newcomer reached the land. For a time they spoke together.
Amos then called out to one of his officers, evidently instructing them to wait as he led the foreigner along the beach, toward the steps to the embankment, while the rest of the soldiers remained to watch the warship.
Chloe saw her father exchange glances with the other consuls before speaking. ‘Consuls,’ he said, ‘come.’
Aristocles walked to stand at the top of the embankment steps that led down to the shore. There were so many consuls that it took time for them to get into a semblance of order, but finally they stood in a mass vaguely resembling a half circle, ranged around the first consul at the midpoint with Consul Nilus at his side.
Moments later the newcomer and Amos crested the embankment steps and Chloe now had her first good look at the stranger. He was swarthy, with olive skin darkened by exposure to sun and sea. A curled beard glistened in the light and she guessed it had been oiled, along with his hair, a heavy mop of dark locks. His upper lip was also mustached, but unlike his beard it was neatly trimmed. He had black eyes and faint scars on his face and hands; Chloe’s initial impression of a warrior was confirmed. Amos was not a small man and had an athletic build that reminded Chloe of the statues of the gods. Yet the foreigner was bigger still.
He cast his eyes over the city before turning his attention to the assembled gathering as he came to a halt in front of Aristocles. Chloe watched as her father waited with a face like stone. It was a tactic she had seen him employ on more than one occasion and it could make men tremble. She didn’t know if the stranger even noticed. Instead he neither bowed nor smiled; he simply started to speak with a thick, rolling accent.
‘I am Kargan, captain of the bireme Nexotardis. The earthquake damaged my ship.’ He spoke the last in a growling voice, as if it was an insult that offended his pride. ‘I need to make repairs.’
‘I bid you welcome,’ Aristocles said. ‘I am Aristocles, First Consul of Phalesia, and this is Consul Nilus. Behind me is the Assembly of Consuls, those who administer the city of Phalesia and its environs.’
Kargan nodded slowly. He looked from face to face, examining the consuls arrayed in front of him. He appeared perplexed. ‘Where is your king? Summon him, that I may discuss arrangements.’
Aristocles cleared his throat. ‘I am first consul. In the first instance, you shall speak with me.’
‘Eh?’ Kargan raised an eyebrow, but then gave a dismissive wave. ‘No matter. I intend to pay for all materials, though we have supplies and will not be requiring much. I will also pay for the use of your harbor and beach.’
Aristocles gazed out at the wounded warship. ‘Your men are no doubt weary from your journey, which judging by the state of your vessel has been a harrowing experience. We can discuss arrangements when you have seen to their well-being.’ He spread his arms. ‘I extend an invitation for you and your senior officers to dine with me . . . and Consul Nilus, of course, tonight at my villa.’
Kargan grunted. ‘I will need to secure the safety of my ship, but then I would welcome it.’
Without another word, Kargan turned away.
Consul Nilus spoke for the first time, clearing his throat before calling out. ‘Before you go . . .’ He was momentarily at a loss for words. ‘Who are you?’
Kargan made a surprised sound, frowning as he faced Nilus. ‘We are of Ilea, from across the Maltherean Sea. I serve Solon the sun king, who rules his empire from his capital Lamara, the city I call my home. Surely you know of Ilea? Our empire covers most of Salesia, from the Shadrian Passage in the west, to the city of Efu in the east.’
Kargan didn’t appear to care about the consuls’ reaction one way or another. He gave a short bow and then spun on his heel, heading for the narrow steps and the harbor shore. Amos glanced at Aristocles and then scurried to keep up with the stranger.
5
Chloe readily agreed to her father’s request that she prepare food for the foreigner’s welcome feast. While the servants were passable cooks, if the event was especially important, she often handled both the cooking and serving of the meal. As she worked in the kitchen she felt nervous, but she was curious about this man, Kargan, and his homeland across the sea. If she could help her father deal successfully with a nation that commanded such powerful warships, she would consider the night a success.
Sophia came over, carrying a large ceramic bowl colored black and gold and decorated with a scene of two men hunting stags on white horses. She showed Chloe the pile of fruit inside. ‘I discarded the bad figs.’
‘Well done,’ Chloe said. ‘Could you arrange the cheese, bread, and olives on the big plate over there?’
Chloe herself was grinding wheat with a mortar and pestle. The dish wasn’t big enough, and she tipped the coarse grain from the mortar into a larger bowl before starting to grind more.
Her father poked his head into the kitchen and scanned the room. He nodded with satisfaction when he saw Sophia arranging the cold foods and noted hot coals in the cooking hearth, with smoke departing through the hood above.
‘You look worried,’ Chloe said. ‘You should rest. Everything here’s under control.’
Aristocles came forward and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head and smiling down at her fondly. ‘My beloved child . . . Where would I be without you?’
She looked up at him and saw moisture at the corners of his eyes. She never knew when his thoughts would turn to her mother. People often said that with every passing year Chloe was growing to look more and more like her.
Leaving a hand on her shoulder, Aristocles turned to Sophia. ‘I just need to mention, Sophia, this man is foreign and unused to our ways.’
‘I will be your dutiful, doting daughter,’ Sophia piped from the other side of the room.
Aristocles smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. He truly was concerned.
‘Father . . . Who are these people?’ Chloe asked.
Aristocles paused before speaking. ‘Ilea is across the Maltherean Sea.’
‘Further than the isle of Athos, where the Oracle lives?’
Aristocles nodded. ‘Further than Athos. Ilea is on the Salesian continent. I know little of their king, Solon, but word is that in the past years he has swallowed his neighbors into his empire. He is a powerful ruler.’
‘This man, Kargan,’ Chloe said. ‘Is he powerful also?’
‘That remains to be seen,’ Aristocles said. ‘We must ask many questions and answer few.’
Hermon, one of the servants, a stooped old man who had tutored Chloe in childhood, came and bowed to Aristocles. ‘Consul Nilus is here, Lord.’
‘Show him in,’ Aristocles said.
Moments later Chloe heard her father in the reception as he spoke with his plump colleague. ‘Nilus, how good of you to come.’
‘Is he here?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘Any idea how many companions he will bring?’
‘My message specified no more than
two.’
‘Tell me, Aristocles, what is our strategy?’
Sophia called out from the kitchen. ‘Ask many questions and answer few.’
Chloe frowned at her younger sister, but Nilus laughed. ‘An excellent idea,’ he said, coming to the door of the kitchen. A plump man with curly black hair and a round face that was often red when he spoke, he was one of her father’s rivals, but also a colleague and confidant who occasionally came to the villa to work with Aristocles late into the night.
Seeing Chloe, Nilus scratched at his cheek before speaking. ‘Ah . . . Aristocles. Your daughter—’
‘I will be a gracious host,’ Chloe said. Her lips thinned. ‘It was only when they started blaming the eldren that I had to say something.’
‘You can’t let them hurt Zachary,’ Sophia said.
‘Yes, well, it is a delicate issue,’ Nilus said.
‘I’m making one of mother’s dishes,’ said Chloe, changing the subject. ‘Spiced meal cakes with pork sausages.’
‘Excellent,’ Nilus said. ‘I do miss her cooking. The gods only know why fever strikes some and not others. She was a good woman, of that there could never be doubt.’
Chloe smiled sadly. ‘Why don’t you have father pour you some wine?’
‘Excellent . . . Excellent.’ Nilus looked around. ‘Where is your father?’
‘Nilus, come, our guest is here,’ Aristocles called out from the reception.
Chloe and Sophia exchanged glances while they worked. Busy with the preparation of the food, Chloe listened to the conversation in the next room as she mixed the coarse flour she’d been grinding with salt and dried oregano.
‘Lord Kargan, you have brought no companions?’ Nilus was asking.
Golden Age (The Shifting Tides Book 1) Page 3
