Golden Age (The Shifting Tides Book 1)

by James Maxwell

  ‘There are none on the Nexotardis with my status,’ Kargan’s gravelly voice replied.

  ‘Please, take a seat,’ Chloe’s father said. ‘Let me pour you wine.’

  ‘Where are your servants?’

  ‘I have sent them away for the night. My daughters will be preparing the food and serving.’

  ‘It is a great honor,’ Nilus said.

  ‘Your women are allowed to share the same quarters as your men? You have them serve your food?’

  ‘I am sure many of our customs are different from yours,’ Aristocles said smoothly. ‘If you wish, I can recall the servants, if that would make you more comfortable.’

  ‘Bah,’ Kargan grunted. ‘Your house, your rules.’ There was a pause. ‘Tell me, is this the palace you provide for your king?’

  Chloe added water to the flour mixture and proceeded to make flat cakes. After using up all the mixture, she went to the fire and checked the coals were low enough, and that there was space in the stone bed for all the cakes to fit.

  ‘This is not a palace. It is my villa,’ Aristocles said.

  ‘I must agree with you,’ Kargan said. ‘This is no palace.’

  Chloe heard gulping and then a clunk as someone set a goblet back down onto the table. ‘More wine!’ Kargan called. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I forget you have no servants.’

  ‘Put these on the hot surface near the coals,’ Chloe quickly instructed her sister, indicating the meal cakes. ‘Then bring in the cold platter.’

  Chloe left the kitchen and entered the expansive reception. The room was artfully arranged, with no evidence of the recent disturbance to Aristocles’ home. Marble statues of Aristonias and Nestor, two of Phalesia’s democratic fathers, occupied each corner, while along the stone wall were fine ceramics and low stools and tables.

  The three men sat on angular recliners, spaced close together, and between them was a table the height of a man’s knee. The room was big enough to accommodate twenty men, yet Kargan’s dark eyes were scanning it dismissively.

  As Chloe walked in she saw that he wore a flowing yellow robe of thick silk, fastened at the waist with an elaborate belt of woven orange thread covering leather. Hanging from his belt was a curved dagger with a jeweled hilt, the scabbard plain but fine quality. His oiled hair was tidier than before and his beard was now curled in a series of locks.

  ‘Ah.’ Aristocles cleared his throat. ‘Lord Kargan, may I introduce my eldest daughter, Chloe.’

  Chloe placed her hands together and gave a small bow, while Kargan glanced at her once and then looked away. ‘More wine, Lord?’ Chloe asked as she reached for the jug and refilled Kargan’s cup, then pouring for her father and Consul Nilus.

  As Chloe backed away, Sophia entered the room with the platter.

  ‘And my youngest daughter, Sophia,’ Aristocles said.

  ‘It is my pleasure to serve you, Lord,’ little Sophia said formally.

  Nilus and Aristocles both smiled, but Kargan appeared bored.

  ‘Come,’ Chloe said to her sister under her breath. She led Sophia back into the kitchen, where the aroma of the spiced bread already filled the room.

  After the girls’ departure, Chloe heard the jangle of coin and then heard something thunk onto the wooden table.

  ‘How much silver do you want for the use of your harbor?’ Kargan said. ‘We can buy our own materials and supplies at the agora.’

  ‘Please,’ Aristocles said. ‘Enjoy the food before we discuss business. Surely it is a change from the fare you have on your ship?’

  Chloe heard the sound of men eating. She went out once more to refill their cups and saw Kargan devouring figs and olives one after the other before she returned to the kitchen.

  ‘These are fair enough,’ Kargan said. ‘I only eat and drink the best.’

  ‘You mentioned your status earlier,’ Nilus said delicately. ‘What exactly is your status?’

  ‘I am captain of the Nexotardis and admiral of the sun king’s navy. I am Great King Solon’s adviser. I have a military command also. Few in the sun king’s court may call themselves my equal.’

  ‘Please, tell us your story,’ said Aristocles. ‘How did your ship come to be damaged?’

  Chloe added the sausages to a pot, along with some wine, thyme, barley, and fermented fish sauce. She rested the pot in the coals before returning to her place near the kitchen doorway, poking out her head to see if anyone’s wine needed topping up.

  ‘—appears that it struck your city also,’ Kargan was saying. ‘We were beached at the time and the waves threw the Nexotardis up onto the rocks. I sent the rest of our ships home while I searched for a harbor.’

  Chloe entered the reception and refilled Kargan’s cup. He ate while he talked, speaking in between mouthfuls of white cheese and gulps of red wine.

  ‘The gods are angry,’ Nilus said.

  ‘Not my area of expertise,’ Kargan said with a shrug. ‘I command the sun king’s ships.’

  ‘What were you doing on this side of the Maltherean Sea?’

  ‘Trading with the Sarsicans. Then we were heading to the Oracle at Athos to make an offering.’

  ‘We trade with Sarsica,’ Nilus said. ‘Wine, barley, ceramics, leather, tools . . . I wasn’t aware of any trade between Sarsica and the Salesian continent.’

  Chloe and Sophia cleared the dishes, as invisible as servants to the big man with the oiled beard and mop of dark hair. Then Chloe had to attend to the pot on the cooking hearth, stirring the stew and then turning over the meal cakes. The delicious aroma made her mouth water, but the men would have their fill before the women. When Aristocles was alone he was never so formal, and they all dined together. But Chloe knew this night was important. She didn’t like to imagine what a mass of warships like the Nexotardis – biremes, she remembered the word Kargan had used to describe his ship – could do to Phalesia’s proud fleet.

  Finally, Chloe brought the steaming pot to the central table while her sister set down another plate with the spiced meal cakes, along with bowls and spoons.

  Aristocles looked at Chloe gratefully and Nilus made appreciative sounds, but Kargan growled, ignoring Nilus’s last comment about trade.

  ‘This is not the banquet I was expecting. When I saw how many of your men in expensive tunics were there to greet me I was sure a table the length of your agora was going to be required to fit them all. I thought to myself: this king has many advisers. Despite his simple garb he must be a powerful man. Your city is wealthy. You asked me my status, Aristocles. What is yours?’

  ‘Lord Aristocles is the first consul,’ Nilus said.

  ‘And what is a first consul?’

  ‘Our consuls are elected by the citizens,’ said Nilus. ‘We then elect one of our number to be first among us.’

  ‘Elect?’

  ‘We vote by speaking out in favor of one candidate or another. The man chosen by the most citizens is elected.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Kargan muttered. ‘Strange system.’

  ‘It has served us for longer than living memory,’ Aristocles said. ‘Every man’s voice is heard.’

  ‘Even the slaves?’ Kargan asked incredulously.

  ‘No,’ Nilus harrumphed. ‘Of course not the slaves.’

  Aristocles interjected. ‘We see kings as tyrants, something to be abhorred. If a single man becomes too popular, too powerful, we send him away as an emissary to somewhere like Sarsica until his influence has waned.’

  ‘But in the name of Helios,’ Kargan spluttered. ‘Why?’

  ‘Long ago Phalesia was ruled by a strong tyrant, a good king, you may say,’ Aristocles said. ‘But he in turn was followed by a weak son, who was then succeeded by a ruthless despot. Men with ideals formed a secret cabal to overthrow the mad king before he led the city to ruin. During their struggle, they couldn’t agree on who should be king next, so they deferred the problem until the tyrant was gone, instead making decisions by vote. After they succeeded, the system stayed.’ There was obvious sat
isfaction in his voice.

  ‘But how can there be order?’ Kargan persisted. ‘If any man can lead, what is to prevent chaos? There are always more commoners than nobles, but nobles are the only men with the breeding and education to be trusted with power.’ His voice became firm. ‘Let me just say that if I see any sign of your system taking root in Ilea, I will personally lead a division of my best men to cull these ideas before they spread. I am glad we have the wide sea between us.’

  Aristocles bit off any retort. All Phalesians were proud of the Assembly of Consuls, and Chloe knew he would be itching to take up the argument, but he was also wise enough to put diplomacy first.

  ‘What of your king, Solon?’ Nilus asked. ‘Please, tell us about him.’

  ‘Solon is beloved of the sun god Helios and has taken Ilea into a new age.’ Glancing in from the kitchen doorway, Chloe saw Kargan puff up his broad chest. ‘Our armies are huge; our warriors are the strongest. The sun king takes tribute from Shadria, Sarina, Haria, and the isles of Ibris, Amphi, and Tarlana. In Lamara I can buy the finest goods. Our new biremes expand our influence every year.’

  ‘We may also be interested in trade,’ Nilus said, looking up to meet Kargan’s eyes.

  Kargan shrugged. ‘It remains to be seen if trade is possible. I don’t intend to remain long, only until I’ve made repairs to the Nexotardis.’

  ‘We will help in any way we can,’ Aristocles said. ‘And we wish you to feel welcome while you are in Phalesia.’

  ‘As I have said many times, I will pay. I do have one condition, however. Nobody is to set foot on the Nexotardis, nor wander too close. Understood?’

  ‘That is acceptable,’ Chloe’s father said.

  ‘Good.’ Kargan frowned at his cup. ‘Is there no better wine in this house?’

  ‘Chloe,’ Aristocles called. ‘Fetch the Sarsican red.’

  Chloe went out to the terrace and descended to the villa’s lower level, quickly finding her father’s best wine in the cellar but missing the conversation until she returned.

  ‘—offer I would like to make,’ Kargan said as he downed his cup and Chloe refilled it from the new amphora, before moving on to the two consuls. ‘There is a temple,’ he continued, ‘high on the peak above the waterfront. A flame burns on the plateau, shedding light on the columns. In the middle of the summit is a chest of gold.’

  ‘The Temple of Aldus, yes,’ Aristocles said.

  ‘I asked one of your people and he said the chest is solid gold. Is that true?’

  ‘The Ark of Revelation is a sacred relic,’ Nilus said.

  ‘Hmm,’ Kargan said, his eyes suddenly intent. ‘What is it?’

  When Aristocles and Nilus both hesitated, Kargan glanced up at Chloe, meeting her eyes for the first time. ‘Girl?’

  Chloe looked at her father, who nodded. ‘My daughter studied at the Temple of Aeris,’ Aristocles said. ‘Chloe, tell our guest about the Ark of Revelation.’

  She set down the amphora before speaking and took a deep breath, suddenly made nervous by the foreigner’s stare.

  ‘This is a story known not only in Phalesia, but in all the Galean nations, from Tanus to Sarsica.’

  Chloe faltered when she saw a smile creep up on Kargan’s face, flushed with drink.

  ‘Lord Kargan . . . ?’ Aristocles asked.

  ‘It is nothing,’ Kargan said. ‘Merely her accent. It sounds foolish on your men, but from a woman your speech is strangely attractive.’

  She glanced at her father, who looked as if he was trying to frame a response, and then back to Kargan. The Ilean waved impatiently for her to continue.

  Chloe went on with determination. ‘Long ago, the first men prayed to the god Aldus, asking him to make humans supreme of all creatures.’ Kargan frowned, but thankfully didn’t interrupt. ‘Aldus consulted with the other gods and an agreement was reached. The gods gave us mining, and taught us the use of gold, silver, copper, and iron, elevating us from the beasts.’

  She drew another breath before going on.

  ‘But the gods made their own demands in return, by way of a pact. Led by Aldus, god of justice, they said that in return for their gift of knowledge we had to abide by ten laws, which Aldus wrote on tablets and put inside a golden ark.’

  ‘What are the laws?’ Kargan raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Aldus said he would not tell us the laws, but that they were self-evident. Anyone who could live by them of his own accord would be granted entry to paradise on his death.’

  Kargan finished his cup of Sarsican wine in a gulp, refilling it himself. He became expansive, gesturing as he spoke. ‘And this is the ark on the cliff? Surely you must have opened it by now.’

  ‘No,’ Chloe said. ‘The pact states that if the ark is ever opened the wrath of the gods will come down on us all. Those already in the lands of paradise will be ejected, and none will be granted entry again. The knowledge to use metals would be taken away from us, and we would once more become as the beasts.’

  ‘The nature of the laws is a source of constant debate among our magi,’ Nilus explained.

  ‘I still think you should just open the ark and find out,’ Kargan said. When his words were greeted by expressions of horror, he laughed. ‘Ah, this wine is better,’ he said. ‘I will tell the sun king about what I see here. You mentioned trade, First Consul. What do you offer?’

  ‘Copper. Olive oil. Honey. Wool. Ceramics. Timber.’

  ‘What of iron? What is the quality of your weapons?’

  In a sudden movement, stunning them all, Kargan sat upright as he drew his dagger from the scabbard at his waist and laid it on the table. ‘This is our best work. Show me your sword,’ he met Aristocles’ eyes.

  Aristocles hesitated, creases forming on his brow, but finally he nodded. ‘Chloe?’

  Chloe went to her father’s chambers at the back of the villa, by far the most sumptuous private quarters in the house, passing the new work the builders had just finished on the ceiling. She retrieved her father’s scabbarded sword from an ornate wooden chest and returned to the reception, holding it out in both hands for her father to take.

  ‘Draw it and lay it on the table,’ Kargan said.

  The whisper of steel sounded as Aristocles unsheathed the weapon, revealing a bright, well-oiled blade with an edge kept sharp by the servants. The hilt of her father’s weapon was plainer than Kargan’s dagger, but it was as good a sword as silver could buy.

  Kargan spent time comparing the two weapons. He lifted the sword and carried it out to the terrace, making some practice swings, while the consuls swapped bemused glances. Returning a moment later, he laid the sword back down next to the dagger and ran a finger along the edge of both blades. He balanced the sword on a finger to find the center of gravity and then rubbed his chin as he looked across the table at Aristocles.

  ‘This is a fine sword. The steel is good quality. Where is it made?’

  ‘It comes from Xanthos,’ Aristocles said.

  ‘Xanthos?’

  ‘The neighboring kingdom to the west, located between Phalesia and Sarsica.’

  ‘Hmm. It seems I have much to learn, but I am only here for a short time.’ He picked up the sword again, looking sideways along the steel, with his eye close to the blade. ‘May I have this?’

  Stunned, Chloe waited for her father to react. Nilus opened his mouth, then closed it.

  ‘You may,’ Aristocles said tightly.

  ‘Tomorrow we will talk about payment for the use of your harbor. Your gift will ease negotiations.’

  Kargan replaced the sword in its scabbard and then, straightening, he bowed to the two consuls of Phalesia.

  ‘I bid you good night.’

  He left with a slight weave in his step, having put away a prodigious amount of wine.

  Chloe’s father let out a breath.

  6

  Bright sunlight sparkled off the waves, strong rays that poured from the rising sun and lent growing heat to the morning. It was a good day for sai
ling.

  Dion, youngest son of King Markos of Xanthos, felt his spirits soar as the small sailing vessel skipped over the waves, riding the peaks one after another, the sail pocketing the wind and making the boat’s timbers groan like muscles stretched by a sprinter at the Games.

  He pulled the rope that traveled from his fingers to a rounded cleat, smoothed from friction, and then to the boom. As he hauled the sail closer in with the wind coming across his beam the boat leaped forward.

  He heard a familiar grumbling voice nearby.

  ‘If the narrows are truly blocked we are going too fast. Slow down, lad.’

  ‘Of course, Master Cob,’ Dion said with elaborate respect. He grinned and tightened the sail still further.

  The sailing boat heeled in response, listing hard to port. Dion clambered across to put his weight on the starboard side. ‘Move across,’ he said to his companion. ‘We can still get more speed out of her.’

  ‘In the name of Silex, why is it we need such speed?’

  ‘We have a big day ahead of us.’

  ‘Our task is simple. We confirm the fishermen’s reports that the narrows are blocked, and then we return to Xanthos.’

  Dion ignored Cob, instead looking ahead to check their course. The boat was sailing with the looming mainland cliffs on the left and the lower but still imposing heights of the isle of Coros on the right. As the boat sped along, the passage became slimmer and the opposing cliffs grew closer. The air smelled of salt and sea and even on the higher gunwale cool water splashed his face.

  Soon they would be at the narrows, the place where the cliffs were at their closest. It was the only sea route between Xanthos and Phalesia. Well, there was another, but Dion wasn’t ready to talk to Cob about that quite yet.

  Glancing back at Cob, he saw the old man with his hand on the tiller, glancing up at the jagged black cliffs and grimacing. He was stunted and bald, a full foot shorter than Dion, and were it not for his aptitude with boats Dion wasn’t sure what the old sailor’s place in the world could have been.

  ‘Just like me,’ Dion murmured to himself.

  In his full growth of manhood, twenty years old, Dion should by now have been commanding regiments in his father’s service. His older brother Nikolas was not only heir to the throne, he was commander of Xanthos’s powerful army, with King Markos now too old to lead the men.