Golden Age (The Shifting Tides Book 1) (29 page)

50

More than a hundred oars rose and fell in unison, while the hoisted sail snapped and crackled in the gusting wind, causing the timbers of the mast to groan. Solon was aboard the
Nexotardis
as it carved through the waves, leading a flotilla of two dozen similar vessels. Soldiers filled the decks of every ship; they were heavy in the water and Kargan constantly fumed at the loss of power and maneuverability. Many of the oarsmen had been replaced by soldiers, who were both inexperienced and struggled in the harsh conditions. For once, the lash couldn’t overcome their fading energy: whipped soldiers wouldn’t be the best men to lead an attack on a strong city.

Solon understood these problems, but he also knew enough to leave them for Kargan to solve. He had his own struggle to manage.

The pain now filled his chest, sending stabbing needles into his bones and heart. The torment he’d once thought was more than he could bear was nothing compared to the agony he felt now. His soul was being drawn through the jagged gates of Ar-Rayan on its passage to the afterlife. He was being tortured on the way.

Yet as he paced on the upper deck of the
Nexotardis
he applied the iron control that had seen him through the difficult situations of the past. He allowed nothing of his agony to show. His limbs were filled with urgency and fire. His eyes burned with intensity as he kept his mind firmly on his prize. He had committed deeds that might weigh heavily against him when judged by the sun god, but he had brought the nation of Ilea to a new, golden age. He fixed his thoughts on the prize. When he died, his body would enter the pyramid and his magi and sun priests would perform the necessary rites. He would wake in paradise.

He visualized it now. A palace in the clouds would make his crude home in Lamara look like the dirty mortal residence it was. His carnal desire, which the pain had taken away, would return with force. He would have countless women in his harem, a different consort for every time the mood came upon him, some with the high cheekbones and ebony skin of faraway Imakale and others with the ethereal complexion of the Galean nations. He would have small-breasted girls with narrow hips and buxom women as tall as himself but with strong feminine curves.

His appreciation for food had also diminished, but in paradise his appetite would be insatiable. He would eat until he could eat no more, but unlike in the mortal world, he would suffer no ill effects. Rare birds and roasted meats would fill his stomach. Colorful fruits would sizzle on his tongue, tart and sweet.

The finest wines would trickle into his mouth, held in the hands of the gods. Solon would look down at the mortal world he’d left behind and bathe his radiant smile on the citizens of the great empire he had formed, who would worship him as a god. The other gods would raise him among them.

He had climbed as high as it was possible to climb in this world. He now planned to rise in the next.

Solon’s musings were distracted when the soldiers on deck suddenly cried out. They scattered, running to clear a space at the front as a huge one-eyed dragon swooped down from above to hover over the deck. The instant it landed, the creature shimmered as white smoke covered it in a cloud. When the cloud disappeared, Triton stood in its place.

Seeing Kargan cross the deck to the eldran king, Solon joined them.

‘No sign of the spy since the storm. The sea is clear. If there was a boat out here, we would have found it,’ Triton said.

‘How are your people faring?’ Solon asked as he approached.

Triton’s one good eye turned to the line of ships. The distance was too great to make them out, but there were a few silver-haired eldren on every ship, although Triton was the only one of his race to sail aboard the
Nexotardis
. The men always gave them a wide berth. The eldren didn’t seem to care.

‘Well enough. We are ready for the fight, if that is what you are asking, sun king. Just remember our—’

‘Serpent!’ a sailor at the bow suddenly cried. ‘Dead ahead!’

‘We will deal with it,’ Triton said. ‘It will cause you no problem.’

Without another word he ran to the rail bordering the deck and leaped over the side, plunging into the water.

Kargan turned his dark gaze on Solon. ‘A useful ally.’

‘That he is.’

‘But what is it he wants? What’s in the ark that’s so important to him?’

Solon shrugged. ‘We won’t give him a chance to find out.’

Kargan uncharacteristically reached out to grip Solon’s arm. The sun king’s eyes narrowed as he stared at his commander, but the big man wasn’t to be deterred.

‘He would be a powerful enemy,’ Kargan said. ‘Perhaps we were better off when he was safely collared and behind iron.’

‘Never fear,’ Solon said. ‘As you say, metal interferes with their abilities. They cannot even willingly touch it. If we keep whatever it is he wants confined, we will be able to control him.’

Kargan released Solon and watched as, in the distance, the leviathan that was Triton easily dispatched a smaller serpent, clouding the blue water with red.

‘I hope you’re right,’ Kargan muttered.

The days blurred together as Solon struggled with his soul’s steady passage to the afterlife. They beached at hidden coves on islands whose names he neglected to discover, then set off early each morning to continue the voyage.

He husbanded his strength; he knew he would need it in the coming confrontation.

Then Kargan joined him at the rail and pointed to a rising cliff ahead. ‘Look. The island of Coros. And there.’ He indicated a passage to the left of the island. Solon saw a dozen huge, sharp rocks poking their tops above the water. ‘The Shards.’

Solon tugged on his beard. The decks bustled with activity as the crew lowered the sail and the oarsmen reduced their pace to a crawl. ‘Remind me of the plan,’ he said finally.

‘The army of Xanthos is at Phalesia. Xanthos has no navy. Our objective is to seize the city and push immediately for the pass, the Gates of Annika. With our men at the pass our enemy will be forced to confront us. That’s when we strike from the sea, with their forces divided.’

Solon watched as the looming rocks grew closer. He couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of danger. ‘And you know the way?’

‘I have the directions memorized. The fleet is falling in behind us and we travel slowly, in single file. We also have help.’

Solon saw the sinuous shape of a one-eyed serpent slinking through the water to draw ahead of the
Nexotardis
. Triton would see them safely though.

‘It is time,’ Kargan said grimly. He looked over his shoulder and called out.

‘Advance!’

51

Dion and Chloe lay on their stomachs just behind a rocky rise. Ahead of them, on the other side of the hill, the slope gently descended until it reached a dusty road
.

‘The Phalesian Way,’ Chloe said. ‘Heading west leads to Phalesia while to the east lies Tanus. The road follows the high ground, passing above Phalesia before continuing to the Gates of Annika.’ She glanced at Dion. ‘On the other side of the pass is Xanthos.’

Dion felt he could almost reach out and touch the road. They had crossed the Maltherean Sea. They had made it out of the wasteland that was Cinder Fen.

But there was a problem.

At the point where the road came closest to the dangerous land where wildren roamed, a giant sat hunched over a recent kill.

He was a big one, the largest Dion had ever seen. His bony head was devoid of hair and in profile his reddened teeth were visible even from this distance. Crouched on legs the size of tree trunks, he held a horse’s head in the air as he tore at the neck with savage bites. The bodies of two men lay near a second dead horse. The giant didn’t look like he would be moving on for a long time.

Dion cursed. They were so close. As soon as they were on the road they could leave caution behind and make a dash for civilization.

‘I can fight,’ Chloe said.

‘A giant?’

‘Time is against us.’

Dion hesitated. ‘I’ll fight. You wait.’

‘I’m not waiting.’

‘Stay here,’ Dion ordered.

He rose to his feet and slowly approached, an arrow fitted to the string as he walked cautiously toward the feeding wildran. Circling around, he came at the giant from the side, so that if the creature charged, he would be drawing him away from both Chloe and the road. When he’d reached eighty paces, the limit of his bow’s range, he stopped.

Dion made a swift prayer to the gods. His heart hammered as he drew the string to his cheek. He sighted along the shaft, taking note of the wind and angling the bow into the sky. It was the most difficult shot he’d ever tried. He pictured the arrow plunging into the giant’s neck.

His muscles strained with effort as he held the shot for a moment, and then he released.

The arrow flew through the air, sailing in an arc, but plunged into the ground by the giant’s foot. The creature continued eating, turning the horse head in his hands and gnawing at the bloody flesh at its base, taking no notice.

Dion drew in a shaky breath and looked for Chloe as he fitted another arrow to the string. His eyes widened as he saw her circling on the giant’s other side. She was already closer to the site of the kill than he was. She had no weapon.

He swiftly drew on his bow again and this time hardly thought about the shot as he released. He immediately nocked another arrow and sent it straight after the first; for a heartbeat both shafts were in the air at the same time.

The first arrowhead sliced into the flesh of the giant’s shoulder, then fell away. The giant roared and wheeled, trying to find the threat as it threw the horse head to the ground.

The second shaft would have missed if the giant hadn’t moved. It struck the creature squarely in the center of its chest, sinking deep in the area of its sternum.

The monster rose to its full height and bellowed. Faster than Dion would have thought such an immense thing could move, the giant saw him and charged.

Dion forced himself to stand firm as he loosed yet another arrow, aiming for the giant’s eye. But the shaft went wild, flying past its shoulder. The distance between them narrowed to twenty paces.

With shaking hands he fitted an arrow to the bowstring, knowing it would be his last opportunity. He pulled and released. A heartbeat later the shaft sprouted from the giant’s shoulder.

But it wasn’t a kill shot.

Dion threw his bow to the ground and ran. He weaved from side to side and felt a meaty hand grasp at his tunic before he slipped free. The giant swiped and a second fist scraped the back of his head, shattering his thoughts and making his senses reel.

He tripped over a defile he hadn’t seen and his vision sparkled with stars as his forehead cracked into hard stone. Dion retained enough of his wits to roll to the side as fists the size of his head pummeled the dust where he’d been a moment before. He continued to roll and then felt the ground drop away beneath him. Suddenly he was on his back, wedged in the cleft.

The giant loomed over him, crouching and reaching into the defile. A hand went around Dion’s throat, fingers clutched his neck, and with his arms pinned there was nothing he could do. He felt himself lifted forcefully out of his wedged position and then the hand holding his throat began to squeeze.

Dion’s vision narrowed. His chest heaved as his lungs desperately tried to suck in air. He felt his consciousness ebb away. Darkness encroached.

The giant’s eyes suddenly widened. It opened its mouth to roar but instead blood gushed out. The hand around Dion’s neck released and Dion tumbled to the side, coughing and gasping. The giant toppled forward, falling face first into the cleft that Dion had just vacated.

Looking up, Dion saw Chloe standing behind the giant, a blood-drenched sword held in both hands. He wondered where she’d found it, but then remembered her circling toward the bodies of the two men.

He tried to thank her, but could barely speak. Chloe simply smiled, lowering the sword. ‘It was a good plan,’ she said.

Dion recovered his voice and they now traveled the road with speed, heading west for Phalesia, with mountains on their right and the sea a distant blue expanse on the left.

An hour into the journey they came across a horse.

It was alive but the dead rider lay diagonally across its back, tangled in the reins. The sturdy mare watched with sorrowful brown eyes, skittish as they approached.

‘He must have been part of the same group,’ Chloe said, looking at the dead man. His head was twisted to the side and half the skin was torn from his face.

They exchanged glances. ‘We need this horse,’ Dion said.

He walked slowly toward the mare, his arms spread peacefully as he made soothing sounds. He’d always been good with horses, and the horse allowed him to carefully take the bridle. Chloe came to join him and together they untangled the rider. The body fell to the ground with a heavy thump, startling the horse, making the ears go back and nostrils flare.

‘Shh,’ Dion soothed. ‘She’s thirsty,’ he said to Chloe.

Leaving Chloe holding the bridle, he found a depression in the stone and poured the last of his water from the skin.

‘Bring her over.’

The mare drank greedily. Glancing up, Dion saw Chloe watching him.

‘We both know you should take her,’ she said.

Dion tried to protest, but Chloe held up a hand. ‘Xanthos is further than Phalesia. We’re past the threat of wildren now. You need to warn your father. I’ll get to Phalesia and we’ll send out the fleet.’

‘But you—’

‘We don’t have time to argue. The road continues for a time and then forks at the city. The right-hand path continues along the high ground to the Gates of Annika.’ She met his gaze with a steady stare. ‘Go.’

‘Chloe . . .’ Dion said. He hesitated. ‘I—’

‘There is a traitor in your father’s court. If Xanthos is not yet under attack, it soon will be. Solon has eldren fighting with him. Go!’

Dion looked at the mare; the horse’s spirits had improved with the slaking of its thirst and the removal of the dead rider. Taking a deep breath, he nodded and hoisted himself up onto the saddle of cloth spread over its broad back. From his new height, he could see that the road stretched on and on.

‘Good luck,’ Chloe said.

‘And you. Get to your father as quickly as you can.’

Dion dug in his heels, urging speed into his mount. He glanced over his shoulder once, seeing Chloe growing smaller and smaller, her hand raised in farewell.

And then she was gone from sight.