Silver Road (The Shifting Tides Book 2)

by James Maxwell

  The crowd assembled in front of the temple roared, raising their hands and shouting their approbation. Jax smiled, clapping and cheering with them, but his face was still curious.

  Timing her arrival perfectly, at that moment Morgana ran up, calling to the crowd. Breathless and beautiful, wearing a sheer yellow chiton that barely concealed her figure, every eye was on her in an instant.

  ‘Quick,’ she panted. ‘Come. Down at the shore.’

  With the day growing more exciting with every passing moment, the crowd – now swelled even larger – followed the dark-haired woman to the edge of the cove where the bireme lay beached on the sand, just where Reece had left it. Morgana pointed, and with growing wonder people thronged around the ship.

  Dion stood with legs apart as he waited alongside the vessel.

  Dion saw Cob grinning and shaking his head, while even Gideon looked impressed. Jax threw his head back as he laughed out loud.

  The warship had changed. Where, raised up on the shore, the long bowsprit jutted out, curving back into itself before spiking out in the bronze ram, the two glaring eyes on either side were now narrowed and angry, an effect given by the black paint Dion had asked Gideon and Cob to apply. Rather than the almond, long-lashed eyes of a woman, these were now the sharp eyes of a predator. The vessel’s name had been scrubbed out and a new name, also in black paint, now announced itself to the onlookers.

  Dauntless.

  ‘My name is Andion,’ Dion called out. ‘And I am looking for a crew. Jax, our elected king, has given me a challenge.’ He lifted his chin and swept his gaze over the crowd. ‘A challenge that I dare you to accept. Any man – or woman – who helps me sail the Dauntless around this island and return before sunset will get his name carved on the bench that he rows today.’

  Dion paused to let his words sink in.

  ‘Now!’ He pointed at the proud warship, stranded on the sand, out of its natural element. ‘Who can I count on?’

  Even Dion was surprised by the response. They began to clamor around the vessel, each desperate to find a bench to claim as his or her own. At this point Cob and Gideon took charge, making them line up on both sides of the ship.

  ‘You can’t climb on until she’s in the water!’ Cob growled from the starboard side. ‘Line up!’

  Gideon strode along the other side, nudging crewmen into place. ‘I’m your new master of oars,’ he bellowed. ‘You’ll move when I say!’

  Standing back, Dion was amazed to see that almost every oar would find hands to row it. He smiled his thanks at Morgana, who appeared to have enjoyed her role, and farther away he saw the priest holding up a wine cup and mouthing something as he tapped the side. As always, Jax looked on, watching and considering.

  ‘Helmsman!’ Dion called. ‘Ready to get this ship moving?’

  ‘Aye, captain!’

  ‘Master of oars?’

  ‘Aye!’

  Dion nodded, feeling a thrill course through him. ‘On my mark,’ he called. ‘We need to pull together, in one motion, then pause for a single breath and go again. Once we start’—he opened his lungs to bellow—‘we don’t stop!’

  ‘Aye!’ the crew roared back.

  ‘Ready? Heave!’ They pulled together and the warship slid two feet. ‘Heave!’ Dion glanced up at the sun as he continued to call out. ‘Heave!’ It was at least a couple of hours after midday. The ship inched down the slope of the beach with every bellow. ‘Again! Heave!’

  Finally, with every crew member red-faced and panting, the ship’s stern entered the sea, adding buoyancy, relieving them of some of its mass. The Dauntless slid swiftly now; soon half of the warship was in the shallows, with the men farthest out up to their waists in water.

  Dion gave new orders.

  ‘Oarsmen: everyone in! Through the sides! Pick a bench and get your oars out!’ He then waved at his officers. ‘Cob, Gideon. After me!’

  Dion ran to the rope hanging from the top deck, climbing it hand over hand, feet finding purchase in the vessel’s open sides. He grinned as he made it to the top, knowing he’d need to employ the gangway next time or he’d never hear the end of it from Cob.

  Now half in the water, the bireme began to roll and sway with the motion of the waves. The situation was completely disorderly but Dion had confidence that his crew would become experienced with time. As first Gideon and then a wheezing Cob climbed up to the top deck Dion waved at them to join him by the sail.

  ‘Master of oars,’ Dion said, nodding at the hatch in the center of the deck. ‘Head below and get the men into order. Find someone to sound the drum and have the oarsmen back away. Cob, turn us around as soon as we’re in open water.’

  The lumbering warship left the shore entirely as the rowers pulled. Slowly it turned, and soon it was facing the open sea. A pounding rhythm filled the vessel as the drum gave them unity. Wincing, Dion ran to the hatch. ‘A little slower, master of oars. Half that speed.’

  ‘Aye, captain,’ Gideon called up.

  Then Dion busied himself raising the sail, hauling the horizontal crosspiece until it climbed the mast and the white material snapped in the wind.

  As the sun fell slowly behind the horizon and purple shades filled the sky, a weary crew and triumphant captain brought the Dauntless back into shore. This time when they approached the shore they worked in unity, and when they poured out of the sides to beach the vessel each man knew his place. Under Dion’s command they had the warship above the tide line in half the time it had taken them to launch it, despite the fact they were now heaving it against the sandy slope.

  Dion formed his crew up in front of the ship and walked up and down the line. He finally stopped in the center and raised his clenched fist to a resounding cheer. He made sure they heard him when he asked Gideon to have every man’s name written in his place. Thanking them for their efforts, he crossed the beach to where Jax stood watching and waiting with Reece by his side.

  Jax grinned. ‘I have to say I didn’t think you’d do it. All right, Andion. You can have the ship. But I’ll be watching.’ He turned to his second-in-command. ‘Reece, transfer my possessions from the Gull to the Dauntless.’ He nodded at the bireme as Reece’s scowl deepened. ‘I’m interested to see how she sails with someone who knows what he’s doing.’

  37

  Chloe stood naked in the villa’s bathing chamber and upended a bucket of heated water over her head to remove the oil she’d lathered into foam. Feeling clean and fresh, she heard a gurgle as the water drained away through the hole in the corner of the sloping stone floor. She wondered, not for the first time, who had built this villa, out in tribal lands, far from any city. There were enough bedchambers for dozens of people to live together and even the baths were opulent, with an entire room devoted to heating water over braziers filled with coals.

  Three days after their rescue, she and Liana were finally rested and recovered. Vikram often disappeared during the daytime and the villa was comfortable. There was plenty of food, brought back from the village of Pao when the magus returned in the evenings. She hadn’t yet learned anything about Vikram’s story, but now, given they would depart in the morning, she decided to ask him tonight.

  Pulling the curtain to the side and exiting the bathing chamber, she reached for the woolen towel and wrapped it around herself before leaving the room behind. Entering the adjoining chamber where she’d left her chiton to air on a rack next to one of the braziers, for a moment she stood and frowned.

  Her clothing was gone.

  She’d left her chiton and necklace draped on the wooden rack. She remembered undressing and setting the items down before bathing, but the rack was bare.

  Scanning the room, her eye caught a stand against the wall. She remembered it being empty, but there was now a bundle on the stand’s upper shelf. A moment later Chloe held up a thick woman’s chiton in a strange style, with a trim of doubled blue stripes and draping folds along the hem like the shell of an oyster. It didn’t appear to be silk but
it shone with the same shimmer in the light.

  Perplexed, Chloe donned the new chiton and left the room.

  She went immediately to the villa’s main chamber to find Vikram sitting on a high-backed chair near the hearth. Despite the fact that it wasn’t yet dark he was staring into a blazing fire. He glanced up as she approached. With his pug nose, scraggly hair, and deep-set eyes, the garish light of the flames made his round face appear sinister.

  ‘Chloe.’ He gave her a warm smile. ‘You look beautiful.’ Seeing her expression, he nodded at the hearth. ‘Your clothing is ruined,’ he said. ‘I’ve already given it to the fire. I’ve explained this to your maid. Your necklaces I am forced to trade with the villagers for food.’ His expression softened. ‘You both eat as much as growing boys. You understand, don’t you?’

  Chloe opened her mouth but he continued without waiting for her reply.

  ‘In case you’re wondering, your maid is gathering wood in the forest. She will be back soon enough. Please, sit.’

  When she remained standing he sighed and met her eyes. ‘I would have thought you’d be interested to hear what I have to say. You worship the goddess of music. Did you know there is magic in music? Please, Chloe. Sit.’

  Chloe suddenly felt foolish. Despite the manner in which he’d done it, she couldn’t expect to exhaust his stocks of food, and her chiton had been tattered to say the least. Nonetheless, her necklace was important to her, and the thought that he’d taken it from her without even asking rankled.

  ‘Good,’ he said when she took a seat opposite. ‘Did I tell you my beloved wife was a skilled magus? I’ve seen you looking at my staff. Would you like to know what I did to those men who were chasing you?’

  She bit her lip, intrigued despite herself.

  ‘Magic,’ Vikram continued, nodding at his ever-present staff with its hand-sized metal fork at the top, leaning up against the stone wall near the hearth. ‘Copper magic. The magic of harmony. The magic of sound.’

  Chloe stared at the device on top of the staff. She knew she wouldn’t be leaving until the morning, and wondered if he would let her see it up close. ‘In all my time at the temple, I haven’t heard of copper magic.’

  ‘Ah, but you have no doubt witnessed its effects time and again. Do you play an instrument?’

  ‘The flute.’

  ‘And have you ever captivated someone with your spell? Have you ever felt that rather than play the music directly, some greater power was being channeled through you, that you were playing without conscious thought?’

  Chloe cast her mind back to when she’d played for Dion, when he’d visited her father’s villa after the great earthquake, and the look of awe on his face. She remembered playing for Solon when he’d tested her.

  ‘I think so. Yes.’

  ‘And tell me – for I’m sure your instrument was made of copper – have you ever experienced the same effect playing a wooden flute? Have you ever been captivated by the pounding of a drum?’ Vikram asked earnestly.

  Chloe shook her head. ‘I don’t . . . I don’t think so.’ She frowned and looked up at him. ‘What of Edra, goddess of fertility? Her followers also wear copper.’

  ‘They do, don’t they?’ Vikram grinned. ‘They wear copper earrings and bands around their wrists. Have you ever seen a love priestess without her jewelry? I’m sure you’ve seen for yourself what effect those women have on men. Many of them play instruments too, isn’t that right?’

  Chloe’s brow knitted. She’d never thought of magic as something that was everywhere, even in daily life.

  ‘Copper, when worn close to the skin, and especially when directed into music, provides the power to captivate,’ he said. ‘It is the materia of art and beauty, and, more apt than any other word, harmony. Healing is restoring harmony, is it not? Music – surely there is harmony in music. Pleasing aesthetics are visual harmony.’

  She glanced at the staff. ‘But that isn’t what you did to the tribesmen.’

  Vikram chuckled. ‘No, it is not. Each of the four materia – gold, silver, copper, and iron – can be used in battle. The eldren have their magic and we have ours. How else do you think the Aleutheans came to dominate the world? If you were to stay here longer, I could teach you.’

  He met her eyes directly. But Chloe immediately thought about her father and shook her head. ‘Under different circumstances, perhaps. But Liana and I . . . We have to leave.’

  Vikram shrugged. ‘Then there isn’t much purpose in telling you more.’

  Chloe hesitated. ‘You said your wife was skilled. Did she also use copper?’

  ‘She used gold.’ He smiled at her eagerness. ‘Gold is the materia of charisma and leadership. The display of gold makes other men feel awe and worship and the desire to follow. But it comes with a price, for more than any other metal gold inspires feelings of greed, of powerful lust for the precious ore.’

  Chloe thought of the sun king and his golden pyramid.

  ‘Watch,’ Vikram said.

  He rose from his seat and went to a shelf at the far end of the room. Returning a moment later, he showed her a hoop of solid gold, a bracelet, the circumference of a woman’s wrist. Small symbols were etched around the circumference, strange shapes that reminded Chloe of the Ark of Revelation’s exterior.

  ‘This was my wife’s.’ Vikram sat down again, groaning as he maneuvered his bulk, and laid the bracelet on his open palm. He closed his eyes and his breathing slowed. A look of intense concentration appeared on his face. He made a sudden sharp sound, like a woodcutter striking a tree with a powerful blow.

  The magus opened his eyes and drew in a long, slow breath.

  The circle of gold began to glow.

  Chloe watched with amazement as the gold grew brighter, shining with inner fire until it was casting dazzling light on Vikram’s round face.

  Vikram’s brow furrowed despite her reaction. ‘This is the extent of my ability with gold. Not my materia of expertise, I’m afraid. Nonetheless, it will continue to glow for as long as it touches my skin. A skilled magus can employ the power from a distance.’ His voice lowered. ‘A truly powerful sorcerer can make the light so bright it can blind.’

  He handed the bracelet to Chloe, and as soon as the gold left his hand the glow faded. Examining the circle, Chloe couldn’t believe that it was just metal.

  ‘Gold is the only materia that does not tarnish, which makes it exceptionally valuable to a magus. When we draw on an object’s power, the metal begins to corrode, and the more powerful the spell, the more it corrodes. Only gold can be used time and time again.’ He glanced at the copper fork on top of his staff. ‘I will need to sand and polish my resonator. As it wastes away, eventually it will no longer function.’

  ‘Resonator?’

  ‘The fork on top of the pole. The weapon itself is called a resonance staff.’

  Chloe looked at the green tarnish on the copper tines and then back at Vikram. ‘And silver?’ she pressed. ‘What can silver do?’

  ‘Silver is the materia of the winds of fortune. Contact with the skin makes the gods smile on a man, luck shines on him more than most.’

  ‘And in battle?’

  Vikram snorted. ‘I can see where your interest lies. Some magi focus on one materia only, but I am skilled with silver, nearly as strong as I am with copper. With talent and training, strong winds can be summoned, although the more powerful they are, the more difficult they can be to control.’

  Chloe swallowed, thinking about what it would be like to be able to control the wind, or to defeat enemies by projecting piercing, ear-shattering sound. ‘And iron?’

  ‘The final of the four materia, and some would say the most dangerous. Touching iron makes a man feel brave . . . powerful and indomitable. But he also feels hatred and the desire to act with violence against others, which can have terrible consequences, as you may have learned for yourself.’

  There was only one god whose worshippers wore iron, Chloe reflected. He was a god wo
rshipped above all in Xanthos, where he had a lofty temple with a statue of a hoplite outside.

  Balal, the god of war.

  ‘When a warrior thrusts his spear in battle, he feels powerful, and the iron grows hot in his hand. Steel is no different – unlike bronze, which is heavily alloyed with tin, iron is only slightly tempered to make steel. When a sorcerer lifts his staff, he can project balls of fire.’

  Chloe’s mouth dropped open. ‘But . . . surely all that power must come with a price.’

  Vikram nodded. ‘You have a quick mind. The magic is difficult to control, and the price for failure can be dear. Gold can blind enemies, but if the magus cannot control his power, it is he who becomes blind. The sound I project with my staff can stun a dozen strong warriors, but if I lose focus it is I who will go deaf, or bleed from the ears until I die. Iron’s price is simpler. Rather than projecting from the iron in a ball of fire, the heat can transfer from the staff to the sorcerer, and it is he who bursts into flame.’

  ‘And silver?’ She noticed that he’d left it for last.

  ‘Silver requires the most clarity of thought. One must empty one’s mind of all distraction, creating a void within. If the magus fails . . .’ Vikram’s round face became sad. ‘He becomes insane.’ He faltered and then met Chloe’s eyes. ‘A user of silver must fear for his mind.’

  Chloe let out a breath. But there was one final question she needed an answer to. ‘How do you know the things you know?’

  ‘I know because long ago, an ancestor of mine fled the fall of Aleuthea,’ Vikram said. ‘A group of survivors made it to these lands and built this villa. The chiton you wear is hundreds of years old. I don’t know what material it is made of but the ancient Aleutheans were advanced, even beyond peoples today.’ He leaned forward. ‘I learned my skills from my father, but when I die, there will be no one left to carry the knowledge. Please, Chloe, will you stay? You’ve seen that I have no children. I have no one.’