Silver Road (The Shifting Tides Book 2)

by James Maxwell

  Dion nodded, still discouraged after the loss of the ship and the death of Gideon, who cared more for slaves than he did for cargo. He glanced at the two ships nearby, both single-decked war galleys: the Gull and the Sea Witch. His role was to sail to port, upwind of the fleet, and use the Calypso’s agility to pass down any messages from the outlying scout vessels still farther out.

  It was Dion who’d pushed for caution. They would soon be meeting with the representative of Mercilles of Koulis to exchange Lady Fatima for the gold talents. They could take no chances.

  Now looking for the scouts, Dion frowned. ‘Cob.’

  The tone of his voice made the old sailor look up sharply. ‘What, lad?’

  ‘Is that smoke?’

  Cob peered for a time and then shook his head. ‘Can’t tell from here.’ His face became worried. ‘You think they’ve run into trouble?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Dion scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘It could just be cloud.’

  ‘What do you want to do? Think I should investigate?’

  Dion thought for a moment and then made a decision. ‘Do it. I’m going to tell Jax to be on the alert. You all right to manage the Calypso on your own?’

  Cob snorted. ‘With my hands tied behind my back, pulling on the sheets with my teeth.’ His eyebrows rose when he saw Dion stand up and stare into the water, gripping the mast with one hand. ‘You’re not serious . . .’

  ‘Take care, old man.’

  Without another word, Dion gazed down into the rough waves of the open sea, and dived in head first.

  The swim was arduous but Dion was a strong swimmer and the wind was with him, relentless waves pushing him toward the Gull as he angled his approach to reach the war galley from the side. Soon a sailor threw a hemp rope off the ship’s side and Dion swam over to the trailing line, gripping it tightly and pulling himself forward through the water. He reached the ship and grunted, arms on fire as he hauled his way up hand over hand, assisted by a pair of strong men. Taking the offered hand, he climbed over the gunwale and stood drenched on the deck.

  ‘What is it?’ Reece was the first man to reach him, his face curled into a scowl. ‘Why not sail over?’ He pointed out to sea. ‘And why is Cob breaking formation?’

  Dion stood panting on the deck, chest heaving as he regained his breath. He coughed and tasted bitter sea water in the back of his throat.

  ‘Andion,’ Jax called as he approached. The leader of the Free Men wore his angled cap, and his white tunic was belted with a yellow cord. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Smoke,’ Dion wheezed, one hand on his hip as he pointed in the direction of the Calpyso as Cob sailed the vessel away.

  Reece peered for a moment and then shook his head. ‘That’s not smoke. It’s cloud.’

  ‘It does look like cloud to me,’ Jax admitted.

  Dion shook his head. He drew in a deep breath. ‘Cloud doesn’t rise like that. And we’ve lost contact with the scouts.’

  ‘The starboard scouts are still there—’ Reece began.

  ‘Well the port scouts aren’t!’

  ‘Andion . . .’ Jax soothed. ‘It’s fine. You want to be careful, I understand. Cob’s investigating?’

  ‘He is.’ Dion looked out at the horizon, seeing the gray mist that had first occupied his attention. He had to admit that it now looked like nothing more than cloud.

  Jax pondered for a moment, tugging at his neat moustache before nodding. ‘Reece,’ he ordered, ‘raise the flag to tighten formation. Bring the starboard scouts in close. Tell the men to be on high alert.’

  With a black look at Dion, Reece nodded and stalked away, bawling out orders to his crew.

  ‘Don’t mind Reece, he sees only the same things in you that I do.’ Jax’s expression was earnest as he met Dion’s eyes. ‘It takes years before a man gets the confidence to stand tall in front of others. That is, unless you’ve led before, and not fishermen or boy sailors, like the old man said.’

  Dion glanced at Reece, striding to the bow and gazing at the horizon as he waited for sign of Mercilles’ agent.

  ‘He’s been with me since the beginning,’ Jax said, following the stocky man with his eyes. ‘And he’s dependable, good at keeping the men in line. But you saved my life. I’m not about to betray your trust, and certainly not to Reece. You’d be surprised how accepting I can be.’

  ‘But all the talk of equality . . .’

  ‘There’s no talk of equality,’ Jax said. ‘We simply say that every man should be judged on his skills and merits, rather than his blood. It doesn’t mean nobles aren’t welcome among our number.’ He stared out to sea. ‘I’m also well aware that at some point we’re going to have to make an accord with society. We can’t always live in fear.’

  ‘But where would everyone go?’

  ‘My plan is to one day have enough gold to buy land, perhaps in Sarsica. We can build real homes, and everyone can start anew, connected to the greater world but also apart. Our values we will keep, and yes, even nobles will be welcome.’ He grinned, his eyes twinkling. ‘After all, even I was raised in the household of a certain lord, the richest trader on the Maltherean Sea.’

  Dion’s eyes widened. He remembered Fatima’s reaction when she’d met Jax. ‘I thought you left your father’s farm when you were twelve?’

  ‘Well, it was more of an estate, but the part about my age is true. I was born Mercilles’ fifth son, and for some reason we instantly hated each other. He always beat his slaves, but with me he preferred to use a club.’ Jax shrugged. ‘I spent my youth explaining to healers why I kept climbing trees and breaking limbs when I fell. My mother tried to protect me but she died when I was nine. After that things got worse. I made my escape and never looked back.’

  Jax’s usually jovial face was grim.

  ‘His lust for gold is insatiable but, more than that, he’s lost sight of what it means to be human. He once caught me playing a clapping game with my favorite nursemaid, a slave of course. I told her I loved her and then he walked in and said he’d been listening. Know what he did? Cut off her hands and sealed them with pitch, no more clapping for her.’ He grimaced. ‘Her wounds mortified and she died. I was ten years old. She meant everything to me after I lost my mother.’

  ‘But why do such a thing?’

  ‘He told me love is weakness. I used to think that he couldn’t stand to see anyone else happy, even his own children, but I now think he truly believed that he needed to stamp out any sign of feeling.’ Jax glanced up. ‘Trust me, my friend. I know the value of freedom.’

  ‘Warships ahead! Biremes! I count four!’

  ‘Let’s hope this woman and my father make each other miserable,’ Jax said, bringing forth a smile. ‘She’s costing him six talents of gold.’ The twinkling in his eyes returned. ‘The knowledge will kill him.’

  ‘Jax,’ Dion said. He gripped the king of the Free Men’s shoulder, suddenly wanting to tell his secret. ‘I’m . . . My name is Dion. I’m the second son of Markos of Xanthos. Nikolas is my brother.’

  Jax stopped short, stunned into silence as his mouth worked. Finally he spoke. ‘That’s some title. What are you doing here?’

  ‘I came to be free.’

  ‘And you are,’ Jax said simply and clapped him on the back. He raised his voice as he left Dion behind, striding across the deck to join Reece at the bow. ‘We are all of us free, isn’t that right, men!’

  The Free Men roared, arms raised in the air.

  43

  The bireme dwarfed the Gull, coming alongside while the crews of the two vessels glared at each other. The towering warship’s name was the Dalix, and although it flew the striped yellow and white flag of Koulis, the swarthy crewmen wore loose trousers that reminded Dion of his time in Lamara. Even the marines had orange suns on their triangular shields.

  The two ships approached until they were well within bowshot of each other while the Sea Witch drew apart, ready to be called on if needed. The other three biremes in the opposing fleet
waited half a mile away.

  ‘Who’s in command?’ Jax called up to the bireme’s top deck.

  ‘I am,’ a gravelly voice boomed.

  A barrel-chested man with a mop of dark hair and a curled beard came to the rail. He cast his eyes over the deck of the smaller vessel. ‘My name is Kargan, and I’m negotiating the handover.’ Dion realized he was looking at the same Ilean commander who’d abducted Chloe, although he’d never seen him up close.

  ‘Let’s get this over with,’ Kargan said. ‘Lady Fatima – where is she?’

  Jax nodded at Reece, who came forward with a struggling Lady Fatima in hand. The statuesque woman’s wrists were bound behind her back but her legs were free and she was making every possible difficulty for Reece as she kicked and writhed.

  ‘Right here.’ Jax jerked his chin.

  ‘Bring her across.’

  ‘No. You bring the gold over here.’

  Kargan scowled, turning to speak with a tall warrior at his side, a huge man with thick lips and wiry dark hair tied back behind his head. Kargan leaned back over the rail a moment later. ‘My man comes with me. We’ll bring half the gold over to you, then you bring Lady Fatima over here and collect the other half. No one carries a weapon, agreed?’

  ‘Agreed!’

  Sailors flung ropes from both ships and soon they were hauling them tightly together. A rope ladder descended from the bireme as the tall warrior descended first. Dion saw that he wore a vest, open at his hairy chest, and brown trousers. Despite his size, the warrior’s movements were graceful as he landed lightly on the rising and falling deck of the Gull, spurning a sailor’s offer of help. Kargan was the next down, obviously accustomed to the movement of ships, and soon the two newcomers were facing Jax and Dion, while a grim-faced Reece was half a dozen paces away, standing behind Fatima with an arm around her neck.

  ‘Jax, I take it,’ Kargan said.

  ‘The gold?’ Jax raised an eyebrow.

  Fatima decided in that moment to stamp down on Reece’s foot. Crying out in pain, his rat-like face turned bright red. Cursing at his captive, Reece fumbled at his waist and a moment later lifted a dagger, pressing the blade against the woman’s throat. Suddenly Fatima was wide-eyed and perfectly still. Dion saw a vein throbbing in Reece’s forehead.

  ‘I said no weapons,’ Kargan said with a dark glare. ‘Your gold’s on its way.’ He glanced up at his ship and waved an arm. ‘Send it down!’

  A wooden chest dangled from a rope, slowly descending from the bireme. A pair of the Gull’s sailors caught the heavy container, grunting with effort as they took its weight and helped settle it to the deck.

  ‘Is that it? Half?’ Jax asked Kargan.

  Kargan nodded, opening his mouth to reply but then suddenly closing it again. He was looking to the north, with the fresh wind blowing directly into his face. He frowned. ‘Why can I see smoke?’

  Jax glanced at Dion. Everyone turned to look at the horizon.

  The cloud of smoke was now unmistakable, rising in a steady stream to disperse in the upper air. Shielding his eyes, Dion realized with a start that there were several plumes in a line; the haze wasn’t localized to one particular place in the distant sea.

  ‘I could ask you the same thing,’ Jax said, eyes narrowed at Kargan.

  ‘If you’ve betrayed us, she dies,’ Reece growled, pressing his blade hard against his captive’s throat.

  ‘If she dies,’ Kargan called up to his ship, his booming voice easily reaching his men. He pointed at Jax. ‘He dies.’

  Dion heard a familiar creaking sound. Up on the bireme’s top deck, three archers lifted their weapons, strings drawn, arrows aimed squarely at Jax’s chest. Glancing at the huge warrior, whose face was impassive, Dion knew that he also posed a threat despite his lack of weapon.

  ‘Everyone, calm down,’ Jax called, glancing back at the smoke before facing Kargan once more. He looked directly into Kargan’s eyes. ‘We had a couple of ships out there, scouts. Something must have happened to them. Know anything about it?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Kargan said, meeting Jax’s stare. ‘I came here to do the handover. That’s all.’

  ‘We’ve come this far,’ Dion said. Turning back to the horizon, he saw that whatever it was that was burning, the wind was blowing it nearer. ‘Let’s just do this quickly and leave.’

  ‘Listen to your friend,’ Kargan said to Jax. ‘He speaks sense.’

  ‘Open the chest!’ Jax called to the pair of sailors.

  ‘It’s locked.’

  ‘Then break it open!’

  Kargan folded his arms and stood with legs astride as jangling and crashing sounds came from the pair of sailors, crouched on the heaving deck as they worked at the chest.

  ‘Why is it locked?’ Dion asked Kargan.

  ‘That’s how it was given to me.’

  ‘So the second chest is locked also?’ Jax lifted his chin. ‘You should have said.’

  ‘I didn’t know until now.’ Kargan’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’m not in the business of counting a man’s gold when he’s trying to get back his wife. I give you the chests, you give me the woman, that’s the deal.’

  The tension grew as the sailors bashed at the chest with the hilt of a dagger. The huge warrior watched Jax, never taking his eyes off him. Dion glanced up at the three tensed archers, knowing they couldn’t hold their arrows drawn forever. Hearing a cry, he glanced at Reece to see how he was faring.

  Fatima until now had been quiet, but she started to writhe in Reece’s grip. ‘You’re hurting me. Take that thing away from my neck!’

  ‘Settle down, lady,’ Jax called out to her.

  ‘Jax,’ Dion finally said.

  ‘What is it?’ Jax asked, his eyes on Kargan and his bodyguard.

  ‘Perhaps an axe?’

  ‘Good idea.’

  Dion called out to a nearby sailor, telling him to fetch an axe. The heavier weapon made short work of the chest, and finally they all heard a crash and a cry of satisfaction as the pair of sailors got the lid open. But rather than shout out confirmation, the two men exchanged glances. A sailor took something in his hand and crossed the deck, handing it to Jax.

  ‘What’s this?’ Jax said softly. He stared down at the iron ingot in his hand and then looked up at Kargan. ‘Tell me, what, in the name of Silex, is this?’

  Kargan’s eyes widened. ‘I had no idea—’

  Jax threw the ingot to the deck. ‘What am I supposed to do with iron?’

  ‘Jax!’ A sailor cried, pointing out to sea.

  The Calypso was racing with the wind, the triangular sail growing larger with every passing moment: Cob was getting every bit of speed from the vessel that he could. Dion saw the old man standing and waving his arms, calling out, his bellows finally becoming clear as he neared.

  ‘Fire ships! Get out . . . here!’

  Dion realized what he was seeing in the distance.

  On the horizon were multiple plumes of smoke, all in a row, dozens and dozens of them. Dark floating specks each bore a snaking gray cloud, the small boats carried forward by the current and the wind. Dion saw in an instant that there were enough fire ships to envelop both fleets. The attack was indiscriminate; placed to destroy everything in its path. The Ilean ships were in as much danger as the Free Men.

  ‘Listen,’ Kargan said, glancing up at his warship. ‘We need to get out of here. I swear I had nothing to do with—’

  Taking advantage of the confusion, knowing that there was no gold and hence no chance of freedom, Fatima bit down hard on Reece’s hand.

  Reece screamed, eyes boggling as he lifted a bloody palm. Fatima squirmed as she tried to escape but he reached out and snatched her arm with his free hand. But when he grabbed her, pulling her close to his chest once more, his dagger was leveled between them.

  Fatima gasped. Reece’s eyes went wide. He released her and she staggered backward, taking two steps and then a third. She stared down at the blood spreading outward from the center of her chest,
drenching her white silk chiton with red, and then the wife of Mercilles toppled backward over the gunwale, tumbling through the space between the two vessels, plummeting into the sea.

  The huge warrior beside Kargan reacted swiftly. A blur of motion, in a flash he’d drawn a slender knife from the inside of his vest, holding it high. Dion lunged forward, moving faster than he’d ever moved before. He grabbed hold of the man’s thick wrist.

  ‘No,’ Dion grunted. Knowing he couldn’t keep his grip for long, he directed his words to Kargan. ‘We’ve been betrayed. This is an attack on all of us. You have to save your ships and we have to save ours.’

  ‘Javid!’ Kargan barked.

  Dion breathed a sigh of relief when the bodyguard nodded and he was able to release the man’s wrist. Kargan whirled and began to climb the rope ladder back to his ship, moving with speed now, frantic to save his fleet.

  Looking up at the bireme’s top deck and seeing that one of the three archers was standing open-mouthed with his bowstring still quivering, Dion turned to Jax. He suddenly felt his whole world crashing down around him.

  Jax was looking down at the center of his chest. He appeared more surprised than anything to see blood welling on his tunic, forming a crimson patch around the sunken arrow shaft, a bloom of red that grew larger as he watched.

  Dion lunged, and as the king of the Free Men crumpled, he caught him and lowered him to the deck, until Jax was lying on his back, staring up at the clear blue sky.

  ‘Save the men.’ Jax coughed, and blood spattered from his lips. ‘I know I can count on you.’

  Dion shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something, although he didn’t know what, but then he stopped before he’d even started speaking.

  Jax’s breath rattled in his chest. His eyes were wide open, but they were unseeing. He was dead.

  Dion straightened and glanced at Reece, who was standing dazed, looking at the bloody dagger in his hand. Knowing that swift action was needed to save the fleet, Dion took command.