Golden Age (The Shifting Tides Book 1)

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Golden Age (The Shifting Tides Book 1) Page 13

by James Maxwell


  ‘Get my daughter back.’

  18

  The long warship traveled through deep waters that were a darker shade of blue than Chloe had ever seen. Mighty waves pounded at its bow, lifting it up before slamming it into the troughs behind. Sitting at the stern, where she felt the motion least, Chloe looked back toward her homeland, where the vessel’s wake left a whitened trail.

  It was the second day of travel, and the wake pointed directly to the island of Deos, where they had beached the previous night. Chloe could still see the island now, marked out by the triangular silhouette of Mount Oden. Her sleep had been filled with terror, not only because of the rough men surrounding her, but because of the rumbling volcano, its peak clouded by the black smoke it spewed forth.

  No Galean would have chosen the volcanic island to beach on: Mount Oden was the home of the gods, and their whims could never be predicted. Children listened to stories that told of shipwrecked sailors being stranded on the island. Some stories ended with the traveler being sent home, traveling on a cloud. Other times the victim was changed into a goat or a horse.

  Chloe’s stomach growled, clenching itself painfully. Kargan’s men had given her food and drink but she struggled to keep any of it down; she vomited the contents of her stomach whenever she had anything more substantial than a sip of water.

  ‘Lady,’ a voice said. Glancing up from pondering the sea, Chloe saw a ragged Salesian with pockmarked skin, crouched on the deck as he looked up at her. ‘Here,’ he said, holding out something. ‘Grapes. From your city.’

  She hesitantly took the proffered grapes. There were a dozen of them, green and fresh, still clustered to the vine.

  ‘Eat them slowly, one at a time,’ the Salesian said. He spoke with a stilted accent and his manner was fearful. ‘It will be good for your stomach.’

  ‘What is your name?’ Chloe asked.

  ‘Kufi, lady. I am a slave from Efu, in Haria.’

  ‘Thank you, Kufi of Efu. Do you know where we’re going?’

  ‘To the great city of Lamara,’ he said. ‘Capital of Ilea.’

  ‘Does your family live in Lamara?’

  ‘My family is dead, lady. Killed when the sun king’s army sacked the city. My brother and I both fought—’

  Kufi broke off, his eyes widening with fear as he turned and saw Kargan approaching. The master of the Nexotardis ignored the slave as he scurried away.

  ‘Good,’ Kargan said. ‘I’m glad to see you eating. The sickness will pass in time.’

  Chloe felt her strength return as she ate the sweet grapes. She lifted her chin as she scowled. ‘I want you to know that I will escape.’

  Kargan chuckled. ‘Have you been so fixated on what is behind that you haven’t seen what lies ahead?’

  He pointed with a thrust of his head and Chloe saw that they were approaching a landmass. A black escarpment formed a long line of spiked peaks as far as the eye could see in both directions. She couldn’t yet see the shore, but this place was dark and forbidding, with gray clouds clustering above while the rest of the sky remained blue.

  ‘Cinder Fen,’ Kargan said. ‘Do you have the same stories of this place that we do?’

  Chloe felt fear climb up her spine. ‘It was once the homeland of the eldren,’ she said, gazing at the looming cliffs that grew larger in her vision with every passing moment. ‘Before they lost the war.’

  ‘That’s what the magi say. Do your wise men explain why it is the way it is?’

  ‘They say the magic of the eldren has left it. Only wildren inhabit the area now.’

  ‘The name says it all,’ Kargan said, looking ahead with Chloe. ‘Cinder Fen. Swamp of ash. Past the mountains is the heartland, though I have met none who have traveled there and made it home to tell the tale.’

  Chloe shivered as chill fingers of cold air brushed her bare arms.

  ‘We must beach overnight at the tip of the promontory, a place where our camp will be farthest from the high ground,’ Kargan said. ‘There will be wild ones all around. Count on that, Chloe of Phalesia.’ He stood and looked down at her. ‘Escape if the sun god wills it, but I wouldn’t try it here.’

  Kargan had obviously chosen the place where he would beach the Nexotardis well in advance. A finger of startlingly white sand jutted out from the shore, and he took personal command of his vessel, guiding the bireme to the extreme point, several hundred feet from the black rock faces and sheer cliffs. Gnarled black trees skirted the shoreline above the beach, somehow eking out an existence. The wind that plunged down from the mountains was cold, despite the expected summer heat. Inhaling, Chloe smelled the incongruous scent of char.

  With the ship beached and the ramp out, Chloe saw that the dozen marines were once more armored, carrying long wooden spears and triangular shields in addition to the swords at each man’s waist. They trotted down the ramp and encircled the bireme, facing the mountains, each man warily watching the sky and casting his eyes over the cliffs.

  Kargan barked swift orders. The ship was only beached enough to hold her fast against the tide and the oarsmen would stay in their benches, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. A sailor grabbed Chloe by the arm and led her down the ramp. With her feet on the crystalline sand, she gazed up fearfully at the mountains, where the darkening clouds swirled as if in the midst of an angry dance.

  She was made to sit within the protective circle of the marines as the sun sank into the sea in the west. The soldiers never ceased watching as Kargan sent crewmen out to gather wood.

  ‘Fetch one armful each and then return. If I hear a single man speak of gemstones, I will cut out his heart and feed it to him.’

  Soon a growing pile of sticks formed within the circle of marines. Hasha, the lean hook-nosed overseer of the oarsmen who had initially sat with Chloe and her father at the banquet, smoothed his curled mustaches as he knelt and placed some coals from a clay pot under the wooden stack. Before long a fire blazed, and the sailor with Chloe guided her to sit beside it in the sand.

  She saw the slave Kufi handing out rations. ‘Is fire advisable?’ she asked as he handed her a plain ceramic bowl containing bread, olives, and cheese.

  Hasha stepped forward and kicked the slave, sending him running, then he seated himself beside her. ‘Some of the wildren do not like fire,’ he said conversationally. ‘Our party is large and we will not have escaped their attention. It is best to use the flames to keep them away.’

  ‘Will it work?’

  Hasha shrugged. ‘We did not come this way when we left Lamara. We will soon find out.’

  Chloe realized she was suddenly ravenous: she tore into the hunk of bread, following it with some tart dried cheese. Away from the rolling motion of the ship, her stomach demanded sustenance to make up for the past days. Hasha ate as quickly as she did and then handed her a water skin. She swallowed mouthful after mouthful of sweet water until she thought she would burst.

  ‘I suggest you get some rest,’ Hasha said. ‘We may need to leave at short notice.’

  Without another word the mustached Ilean handed Chloe a patterned blanket and nestled himself into the sand, wrapping his body in his own covering. Chloe shuffled a little apart and tried to follow suit, but when she closed her eyes the rocking motion returned, making her feel queasy after eating her fill so quickly. She tried concentrating on the crackle of the flames but she was conscious of her vulnerability among so many strangers.

  After attempting sleep as a growing chorus of snores drowned out the waves crashing on the nearby shore, she slowly opened her eyes. Kargan was across the fire from her with his hands on his thick stomach, eyes closed, mouth open and chest rising and falling evenly.

  Chloe sat up.

  With the soldiers in an outward-facing circle and the ship and shore behind her, she began to contemplate escape. Perhaps Kargan and Hasha’s words were meant to frighten her into submission. She clenched her jaw. She had never let fear conquer her before.

  At that moment lightning f
lashed in the smoky clouds hanging over the mountains. A dozen winged figures were suddenly visible as they flew across: shapes with the head and shoulders of men but with the rest of their bodies gnarled and reptilian. They were close enough for her to see bones in their outstretched wings. Both arms and legs were clawed appendages. Chloe made a small sound of fright, terrified they would turn and fly toward her.

  These were wildren, she realized. She had never seen a wildran before. The thought that these creatures were as wild as wolves and were permanently in this form filled her with dread. She could believe the stories that said they would eat any flesh they could seize, with humans considered prey as much as goats, pigs, or sheep.

  Feeling a hand pinching her arm, she saw Hasha sitting up and staring at her. ‘What did you see?’

  ‘Furies,’ Chloe said.

  ‘Are you certain?’

  ‘Y–Yes.’

  ‘Did they see us?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Another burst of lightning flashed, though there was no accompanying thunder. The sudden glow lit up the beach for a heartbeat and was gone immediately. The flicker revealed one of the sailors fifty feet from the camp with his ankles in the sea, his hands at his belt as he urinated.

  Hasha shot to his feet. Chloe wondered what he was looking at, and then she saw them.

  A hundred feet further up the shore, two tall ogres stood watching and assessing. Chloe had seen Zachary in giant form, but these were different in more ways than their slightly smaller size. The silver hair on their bony heads was thin and scraggly. Ragged animal skins hung from their waists. Bare chests revealed hairy torsos and a multitude of scars.

  ‘Get back to the camp!’ Hasha shouted to the man in the water.

  The man looked back at them, confused, but another flash of lightning made him wheel with fright as he saw the wildren, spinning on his heel so fast he nearly fell into the water. He started to run.

  Chloe heard another roaring voice and saw Kargan gesturing to the men. ‘Close ranks! They fear steel – show it to them!’

  Slaves began to throw more wood onto the fire and Chloe ran forward to help, tossing branches onto the flames until the fire roared. The soldiers clattered their spears onto their shields.

  The next time the lightning flickered, the ogres were gone.

  Chloe sat back on the sand and wrapped her arms around her knees. At any moment she expected dragons to plunge down from the skies, ripping men into shreds with teeth and claw as ogres attacked the camp in a raging horde.

  But the next thing she knew, Hasha was shaking her and light was in the sky.

  ‘Wake, girl,’ he said. ‘It is time to leave.’

  19

  The bireme left Cinder Fen as soon as there was enough light to see by, speeding across the water as the men of the crew did their utmost to leave danger behind.

  Kargan ordered the pounding drum to set a pace twice the usual rate, and even as Chloe’s heart went out to the slaves below decks, she felt relief as the mountains and the black clouds crowning them disappeared under the horizon.

  Hasha came up to the top deck and bowed when he reached Kargan, whose hand was on the mast as he scanned the sea.

  ‘Slow the pace, lord? Two slaves are not moving. Even the whip will not raise them.’

  ‘Keep it up,’ Kargan growled, never ceasing his exploration of the water. ‘We are skirting the Sea of Serpents. Even the Nexotardis is not safe from a leviathan.’

  ‘Lord, we will lose more slaves, and we have no replacements.’

  Kargan finally turned his gaze on the master of the oars. ‘Right now my eyes are on you, when they should be on the sea. Do you need to hear your orders again?’

  ‘No, lord.’ Hasha bowed, leaving Kargan to his work and returning below decks.

  Her fears now heightened, Chloe moved back to the ship’s stern, finding a place near the helmsman where she could be alone, her hands gripping the rail tightly as she inspected the dark blue water. Every darker patch caused her heart to skip a beat; every piece of flotsam made her jump. She took comfort in the fact that she wasn’t the only one: every man on deck not fully occupied searched the water with anxious eyes. They were out in the open ocean now, so dark and deep that the sailors muttered among themselves and prayed to Silex for protection. The waves were half the height of the ship. Chloe realized she was so afraid of wildren that she had forgotten about the ship’s sickening motion.

  Kargan left the mast and traveled to the stern to speak with the helmsman, his booming voice loud enough that she easily heard his words.

  ‘Take her three points to starboard. This is the longest run of our journey, and we need to get to Athos by nightfall, for if we miss the island altogether there’s no land for leagues.’

  The day passed with interminable slowness, the sun climbing the cloudless sky and hanging directly overhead as the slave Kufi gave Chloe some bread and dried figs. She tried to engage him in conversation again but he shook his head and moved away without a word.

  Kargan finally allowed the drum to slow, and every man on the open deck sighed with relief, knowing they were past the greatest danger. As the dazzling orb of the sun fell toward the west Chloe moved her place to stay within the shade of the sail. Her chiton was thick and white, good for warding off the bright rays, but it left her arms bare and her pale skin was already burned pink. She hadn’t changed her clothing since the banquet; the hem was dirty and the rest was sweat-stained.

  She wondered what her father would be doing to free her. There were over a dozen powerful war galleys in Phalesia’s navy – none strong enough to challenge the Nexotardis alone, but as a group they would make short work of the Ilean ship. The problem would be speed. Unless winds were exceptionally favorable, no Phalesian vessel could hope to catch the swift bireme.

  Unless, Chloe thought, Kargan planned on spending a long time on the isle of Athos.

  Her heart sank. It was unlikely. Although Kargan might have plans to make an offering to the Oracle, he would be anxious to return to Lamara after his long voyage and the delays caused by the repairs to his ship.

  Thinking of the Oracle made Chloe consider the future, and she pondered her own fate as the day passed. The sun reached the low horizon, sending angular rays across the ocean in long shimmering tapers, and still they had yet to sight land. She thought about Lamara, a city she knew almost nothing about, only that it was the capital of Ilea and home of the sun king. From this city he ruled his empire, which now encompassed most of the Salesian continent. The names of these lands were all strange to her: Shadria, Ilea, Sarina, Haria . . .

  Despite Kargan saying that Solon would want to know about Chloe’s home, it was obvious that he had taken her on his own initiative.

  What if Solon had no use for her? What if he tortured her in order to glean information? Chloe swallowed. She could be married off, beheaded, imprisoned, or given as a gift to the sun king’s soldiers.

  She fought down panic. She couldn’t think like this. She had to escape.

  As if on cue, Kargan came to stand beside her at the rail. ‘We will stop tonight to make an offering to the Oracle at Athos and rest. Tomorrow night we will beach at Koulis, and we will have crossed the Maltherean Sea.’

  ‘You worship the Oracle also?’

  ‘Of course. The sun king honors the Seer. She is the most powerful of all the magi. For what is more powerful than foretelling the future?’

  The sun had now completely set, leaving an afterglow that would soon give way to starlight. Kargan’s voice was calm, but his ceaseless scan of the horizon as he searched for Athos betrayed his anxiety.

  He suddenly breathed softly, a nearly inaudible sigh of relief. Peering ahead, Chloe saw a dark island rising out of the open sea as Kargan went to give further orders to the helmsmen.

  ‘Land!’ a sailor cried.

  Athos was one of the most isolated islands in the Maltherean Sea, but it was also large and self-sufficient, beholden to no oth
er nation. As the ship approached Chloe saw a dim blanket of pine trees covering the low ground – it wasn’t a mountainous place – interspersed with the occasional patch of oak or cedar. Given the island’s reputation as home to the Oracle, she was almost surprised to see that it was so wild; in her mind the isle and the temple were one and the same. Instead it was the sort of environment where one would expect to find deer.

  Night descended as they skirted a headland and traveled along Athos’s coastline, heading south, passing tiny coves and long sandy beaches, barely discernible in the starlight. Continuing to follow a long stretch of white shoreline with curling breakers pounding on the sand, Kargan took the ship closer to the shallow water, so that she lifted and fell with every line of waves traveling underneath her. Hearing the roar of the crashing surf, mesmerized by the white spray, Chloe hoped Kargan wouldn’t attempt a landing, for the waves would throw the ship heavily forward, and she couldn’t see how it could be managed without the bireme breaking up.

  Then they rounded another headland and came still closer to shore, but the water here was calmer, and Chloe saw that they were heading into a narrow cove. The sudden calm filled her with relief as she realized they must be close to their destination.

  The drum pounded as the oars crashed into the water, pulled the ship forward, lifted out, and plunged in once more. Kargan ordered the sail to be lowered.

  Peering ahead, to where they would be landing on a strip of white sand, Chloe gasped, gazing for the first time at the sacred site.

  The land here was treeless, devoid of any plants at all. Structures of fitted stone melded with the shape of rock and crag to create a place where the manmade and the natural collided. But there was also a third force present, something strange and ethereal, for there were flames everywhere, burning fires erupting out of the rock, the flames all different colors: blue, emerald, crimson, and gold.

  Above the beach was a domed hill, shaped like a horseshoe that had been bent out of shape. It rose out of the ground a mile from shore, dominating the area around.

 

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