Silver Road (The Shifting Tides Book 2)

by James Maxwell

  Dion hefted the pouch, shaking his head ruefully. As Gideon and Jax both watched to gauge his reaction, he had no choice but to laugh.

  ‘You’ll fit right in.’ Jax grinned. He glanced down at the beach, where the raucous noise of the music and voices was now loud enough to reach up to the hillside. ‘We have one last gift. Most of them will be sleeping on the sand tonight, but not you. This gift isn’t ours to give, not really.’ He gave Dion a look filled with mischief and then took him by the shoulders and turned him, so that he was looking further up the hillside. ‘See that house on the left, near the big white rock?’

  Dion squinted and then nodded.

  ‘When you’re ready to head in for the night, go there. Her name is Morgana. And because this is your first visit, you don’t have to pay.’

  35

  Bright sunshine poured through the open window that faced onto the small harbor, bringing with it warmth, light, and above all, pain.

  As Dion opened his eyes, he immediately closed them again, trying to prevent the searing light from penetrating through to the back of his skull. He groaned and put his hand to his head.

  ‘Sorry, forgot to close the curtain,’ a soft voice murmured.

  A slim body shifted in the bed, and Dion realized that he was lying on his back and there was a woman pressed against him with her head in the crook of his arm. For a moment he thought he was dreaming, and a young, dark-haired princess of Phalesia was lying beside him. He was in the Royal Palace in Xanthos, his home, and Chloe was with him.

  But then, in a series of strong images, the memories returned with sudden force.

  He was at Fort Liberty. The previous night he’d drunk far, far too much wine. As the night’s revelries came back to him he felt suddenly embarrassed at the things he and Morgana had done. He was almost surprised when he turned his head to look at her and the black-haired woman smiled.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said.

  Morgana sat up and left the bed, and in an instant he forgot all about the pain in his head, immediately distracted by the sight of her body as she tugged the curtain closed. Despite the fact that she was probably ten years his senior, her olive skin was smooth, glowing in the early light as if she’d been polished. When she turned back to him, brushing curly locks away from her face, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  ‘We can go again, but I’ll need a Phalesian silver eagle, or two Ilean drachmas.’ She smiled to take the sting out of her words.

  ‘Andion!’ a rough voice called from outside. ‘Get up!’

  ‘Ah.’ Her smile fell. ‘It appears you have business to attend to.’

  Dion sighed and swiftly dressed, drinking in the sight of her one last time before he left the small wooden shack that was her home. He found Reece waiting for him outside, pacing impatiently.

  ‘There you are,’ the stocky man muttered. ‘Hope you enjoyed yourself, I doubt she could say the same. Come on, we’ve got work to do.’

  Dion fell in beside Jax’s second-in-command as they headed back down to the beach. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘We seem to have made a bad start—’

  ‘You’re lying,’ Reece snapped. ‘About who you are. You’re no fisherman’s son. You might be fooling Jax but you don’t fool me, no matter what the old man says. One of your kind hung my pa for theft. My pa didn’t steal nothing, but what’s a farmer compared to a lord?’

  ‘I’m sorry you lost your father.’ Dion’s lips thinned. ‘But what makes you think I had something to do with it?’

  ‘Bah.’ Reece spat on the ground.

  Arriving at the harbor, Dion saw that besides the churned-up sand someone had cleaned up and there was little sign of the previous night’s festivities. Fishing boats sailed out to make a day’s catch, looking like toy boats beside the larger vessels bobbing at anchor in the deeper water. Small figures manned the catapults at the two encircling promontories. Groups of sailors busied themselves around various tasks: mending nets, repairing sails, sparring with practice swords, and rolling a galley on its side to expose the bottom.

  Reece led Dion to the area where the two biremes were beached. As they approached, Dion saw that forty or more sailors were working to launch the larger of the two vessels. They struggled with its weight and bulk, working in a disorganized series of grunts that barely enabled the vessel to slide a foot at a time.

  ‘Too few men,’ Dion said under his breath.

  Jax stood at the side of the activity, exhorting his men to more effort. When he saw Reece and Dion he called out for the work to stop so his sailors could take a break.

  ‘What do you think?’ Jax said proudly, indicating the two immense warships. ‘We captured them from Mercilles of Koulis, the richest trader on the Maltherean Sea. That one needs repairs.’ He pointed to the vessel still high above the tide line. ‘But this one is good to go. Provided’—he flashed his broad grin—‘we figure out how to sail her.’

  The three men paused for a moment to regard the two eighty-feet-long warships, both with long bronze rams, a pair of rowing decks, and rudders at the stern that were as tall as the Calypso’s mast.

  ‘It’ll take some learning, but once we’re operational,’ Jax said, ‘our new fleet will make us the kings of the silver road.’

  Dion frowned. ‘Silver road?’

  ‘The Maltherean Sea,’ Jax answered with a smile. ‘Where tides may rise and fall, but silver always flows.’

  ‘Reece,’ Jax said. ‘Want to take over getting her into the water?’

  Reece nodded, leaving Jax and Dion and summoning the sailors once more, barking orders as they climbed wearily back to their feet and took a place by the vessel’s side.

  ‘So, Andion,’ Jax said as they watched. ‘I’ve been wondering what position to give you. Cob tells me you’re a strong sailor, and he’s the best here, so that’s high praise indeed.’ He glanced sidelong at Dion. ‘He also says you’re a good leader. Still,’—he rubbed at his little moustache—‘I’m not sure what to do with you. Despite what the old man says, I like to judge for myself.’

  ‘Give me a bireme,’ Dion said.

  Jax barked a laugh, but then his smile faded. ‘You’re serious? You think you can handle an Ilean warship?’ He snorted. ‘Go on. Convince me.’

  ‘I once worked under an Ilean captain and shipbuilder in Lamara. She showed me—’

  ‘—did you just say she?’

  ‘Her name was Roxana and she was one of the best captains in the sun king’s navy. I sailed with her and fought wildren by her side. She let me help her in the shipyards and showed me how the biremes are constructed. I went below decks and learned what the master of oars needs to do. I—’

  ‘Enough.’ Jax held up a hand. He shook his head. ‘So you really think you have what it takes to command one of these?’

  Dion straightened and grinned, hoping he appeared more confident than he felt. ‘I do.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what,’ Jax said. He called out to his second-in-command. ‘Reece! Stop what you’re doing!’ He then turned back to Dion. ‘I have a challenge for you, and I don’t plan on making it easy. Go and find a crew. If you can launch that ship and circle this island before sunset, I’ll give you this bireme to captain.’

  Dion knew he had a difficult task ahead of him. As he considered and made plans he decided that even if he only manned every second oar he would still need more than sixty men in his crew if he was going to be able to handle the heavy ship. It was already midmorning and he guessed that if he didn’t set sail soon after noon he wouldn’t have time to make it back to shore before sunset.

  He needed allies.

  It took some time, but he eventually found Cob asleep at the quieter end of the beach, lying on his back with both hands clasped over his bare chest as he snored with a sound like rolling thunder.

  Dion shook his old friend’s shoulders. ‘Wake up, old man.’

  Cob gave a sharp snort and then his eyes opened blearily. Seeing an empty wineskin on the sand nearby, Dion shoo
k his head as Cob licked his lips and yawned. The old man scowled at Dion and then closed his eyes again. ‘Another time, lad.’

  ‘Get up. I need your help.’

  Running a hand over his bald scalp and then over his face, Cob eventually sat up, glaring at Dion. ‘With what?’

  Dion explained Jax’s proposition. Initially skeptical, Cob caught Dion’s excitement and climbed to his feet. ‘A crew? How many?’

  ‘We’ll need at least sixty, one for every second oar.’

  ‘Plus a helmsman—’

  ‘—you,’ Dion said with a grin.

  ‘—as well as a master of oars, a sailmaster, and sailors to control the rigging.’ Cob nodded. ‘I’m up to the task if you are. Where to next?’

  ‘Finn,’ Dion said.

  Trudging back along the beach, they passed the sailors repairing the galley, who were now painting over a crack in the hull with black pitch. Dion and Cob scanned the area but couldn’t see Finn anywhere. Cob said he knew where to look next, and they climbed the trail that led up the hillside, finding Finn sitting on the porch of one of the houses, puffing on a pipe and blowing perfect smoke rings.

  ‘Sounds fun,’ Finn said in response to Dion’s request. ‘But I’m no sailor.’

  A gruff voice called from within the house. ‘Who’s that, love?’

  ‘Duty calls,’ Finn said with a grin, setting down his pipe and ducking into the interior, giving the pair a final wave.

  Exchanging glances, Dion and Cob walked a little away from the house. ‘Where next?’ Cob asked.

  ‘This way,’ Dion said. ‘Follow me.’

  Climbing the sloping path between houses, Dion arrived at the wooden shed where the pirates kept their stores. The door was open and rummaging sounds came from within. Peering inside, Dion saw Gideon standing next to an open barrel as he trickled grain through the fingers of his big hand.

  ‘Weevils,’ he said in his baritone, shaking his head as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

  ‘Gideon,’ Dion said. ‘I have a proposition for you.’ He repeated Jax’s offer and was surprised to see Gideon’s eyes light up.

  ‘I want to be master of oars,’ the ebony-skinned quartermaster said. ‘I know how to do it without killing the men.’

  He locked the shed behind him and Dion led his first two recruits back down to the beach. He set a direct path for the temple, climbing the steps and pulling open the rickety wooden door. ‘Wait here,’ he instructed his companions as he entered alone.

  The priest, Paolus, looked over guiltily. He was sitting on a solitary stool, where he’d been staring up at the depiction of Silex as if seeking answers to deep questions. He had a cup in his hand and a wineskin sat on the floor by his feet.

  ‘It’s early,’ the red-nosed priest grumbled. ‘Services aren’t ’til sunset.’

  ‘It’s midmorning. Sunset will be too late,’ Dion said.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I want you to give a sermon.’

  The priest frowned. ‘What sermon?’

  Dion told the priest what he wanted him to say. Paolus’s round face screwed up as he considered. ‘If I agree, what will you give me?’

  Dion glanced down at the wine skin on the floor. ‘How’s the wine?’

  Paolus sighed. ‘This rabble doesn’t know the good from the bad. It’s all the same to them, but if I see one more lout drinking good Sarsican red straight from the skin I’ll . . .’ His voice faded away as he tried to think of a threat he could actually deliver on.

  ‘I know the marks of the best Sarsican wine sellers,’ Dion said. His father and brother were both heavy drinkers. ‘I’ll tell you what. Any wine that crosses my path, I’ll set aside the finest for you.’

  Paolus lifted his head. ‘You’d do that?’

  ‘If it’s within my power, I give you my word.’

  ‘All right,’ the priest said. ‘I’ll be here. Just let me know when you’re ready.’

  Pleased, Dion left the temple and gave Cob and Gideon some further instructions, pointing at the workmen painting the ship’s hull with pitch. He then set off alone to accomplish the next part of his plan.

  Glancing up at the sun as he once more ascended the hillside path, he felt the time passing far too swiftly for his liking. Climbing with long strides, he passed the house where he’d last seen Finn – apparently still inside – and then left behind the storage shed where he’d found Gideon. Panting and wheezing, he reached the house he’d woken up in, located high on the hill. When he couldn’t see Morgana he rapped quietly on the doorframe, fearful of disturbing her if she was busy.

  But the curly-haired, olive-skinned woman came to the door and smiled, fluttering her lashes theatrically. ‘Returned with the silver, Andion?’ She parted her yellow chiton to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of thigh. ‘Your business is finished?’

  ‘I wish it were,’ Dion said, smiling. ‘I came to ask for your help.’

  He explained what he wanted her to do. It wasn’t a difficult task, and she was obviously perplexed, but she agreed easily enough.

  Then Dion returned once more to the temple and asked the priest to summon the Free Men.

  36

  It was after midday as word spread throughout the settlement that the priest was going to give an important discourse, a tale of Silex and the sea. Despite their status as vagabonds and thieves, most of the inhabitants of Fort Liberty were devout and prayed regularly to the god of fortune and the sea to bless their voyages with safety and prosperity. If there was one thing that would draw them in numbers, this was it.

  Reece protested that there was work to be done but Jax sensed a plan in motion and freed the pirates from their duties. Soon well over a hundred men and at least a dozen women stood in front of the stone-walled temple. The brown-robed, red-nosed priest stood grandly on the threshold as he waited for them to assemble on the sand in front of him.

  Cob stood beside Gideon; the two men had completed the task Dion had set them but they were as perplexed as Jax himself, who stood a little apart from the crowd, an expression of open curiosity on his face. Reece didn’t attend, scowling at the people rushing to see what novel event was about to transpire as he decided he had things to do elsewhere. Finn called out for the group of stirring and murmuring sailors to be quiet when the priest raised his arms. Dion was conspicuously absent.

  ‘Momentous times are upon us,’ the priest called, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, his arms spread wide to encompass them all. ‘Our fleet grows in size, and our proud home, Fort Liberty, grows in size. Our elected king’—he rested his eyes on Jax—‘grows in strength and wisdom. New members join our group, adding skills and knowledge to that which we already possess.’

  He lowered his arms and clenched his hands into fists.

  ‘Today I will tell you the tale of the hero Zarkos, who vowed to sail to the edge of the world in order to prove himself to Silex the god of fortune and the sea, whom we here in Fort Liberty hold close to our hearts. Zarkos bade farewell to his beautiful wife and his five sons and five daughters, casting his eyes one last time over his palace on the slope of the black mountain as he embarked with his valiant crew to fulfill his quest. The mountain vanished behind him as he sailed west . . .’

  The crowd watched rapt as Paolus told the tale of the five challenges Zarkos faced on his voyage. He described the lure of the lustful mermaids on the island of Parnos, making the onlookers shake their heads, for many among them had seen mermaids with their own eyes, and the fragile beauty of the wildren could make a captivated sailor want to leap into the sea, even if he couldn’t swim.

  Paolus spoke of Zarkos’s capture by the twin giants Strom and Grom, and the hero’s cunning when he tricked the pair into fighting over which of them would get to eat his heart. Only Zarkos’s skill and experience at the helm of his renowned ship enabled him to survive the Chasm that led to the Aleuthean Sea. As he approached the edge of the world Zarkos then had to face the mighty dragon Haroth, losi
ng half his crew to the savage monster before he was able to pierce its heart with his very last javelin.

  Finally, in waters so clear that the ship’s dauntless crew could see all the way to the bottom, they saw that rather than sand, the ocean floor was made of gold dust, impossibly deep, but displaying a wealth of riches tantalizingly in view. Zarkos now knew that the edge of the world was near, and it was proven true to him when he saw that the ocean simply plummeted away in a vertical precipice, as if he were sailing at the top of a waterfall so wide that he couldn’t see the sides.

  At the last, the crew tried to convince Zarkos to turn back, but he was undeterred, determined to prove himself to Silex, holding himself to his vow. He faced them down even as the precipice at the end of the world neared.

  Suddenly, the sea fell away from beneath the ship’s hull.

  The ship plummeted down, down, tumbling through the void, until the hero thought he was going to fall forever. The men of the crew screamed but eventually their voices ran hoarse, and then they could scream no more.

  Paolus smacked his hands together, causing the onlookers to jump. ‘And then with a mighty crash, the ship struck water. The blow would have crushed the hull of any other vessel, but this was a vessel like no other.’ He lowered his voice as he said the ship’s name for the first time. ‘This was the Dauntless.’

  He spread his hands. ‘But to Zarkos’s surprise, when he sailed on this new sea, past the edge of the world, he saw something strange. He saw an island, and a black mountain, and a palace. He saw his beautiful wife and ten children standing on the shore, smiling and waving, calling him home.’

  Paolus slowed, speaking more like a priest than a storyteller as he reached the tale’s conclusion.

  ‘The moral is that the gods honor our accomplishments, but they also praise duty to our loved ones, to each other. No matter how far we go, at the end of every journey is a return.’ He opened his arms in the same manner he had begun the story and smiled. ‘And there isn’t a man here who wouldn’t travel to the edge of the world with Zarkos, even if it meant arriving back at the same place again.’