Golden Age (The Shifting Tides Book 1) (3 page)

4

The consuls all stood and came forward; any decorum that usually existed at the lyceum had long departed.

‘Ship?’ Consul Nilus said, his round face looking quizzical. ‘What ship?’

‘A warship, Consul,’ the sailor said.

Aristocles addressed the crowd. ‘This Assembly is adjourned.’ He made a swift decision. ‘Someone fetch Amos and the city guard.’

Chloe looked at the consuls who were close enough to hear her father’s request. The sailor was exhausted, and every one of the onlookers was at least fifty years old.

‘I’ll go,’ she said.

Her father nodded, and Chloe turned to race up the steps, fighting against the push of those trying to get closer to find out what was happening. Finally she emerged into fresh air and began to run, bounding down from the lyceum to the agora and then sprinting down the series of paths to the lower city.

The barracks were both lodging house and training ground for the men in the Phalesian army. An arched entrance opened directly onto the training ground, with a sandy floor providing room for even horses to train with space to spare. A row of buildings at the back provided storage for food and weapons, a communal mess, and sleeping chambers for the resident soldiers. Those who had homes in the city generally saved their coin and stayed with family, but the guards who called the barracks home had the cost of food and board deducted from their wages.

She found Amos bent over a basin as he washed dust from his face and neck. He didn’t see her at first, and she thought, not for the first time, that the crags on the weathered skin of his face would have made him recognizable among a crowd of hundreds. She wondered if he’d once been handsome; it was now impossible to tell. But he was brave and loyal, and had a reputation as a skilled warrior as well as a respected leader. He wore his dark hair short and she couldn’t remember ever seeing him out of uniform.

‘Captain,’ Chloe said.

He glanced up, surprised to see her.

‘A warship has been sighted. My father says to bring as many men as you can quickly gather to the embankment.’

Ever the professional, Amos simply nodded. ‘The men are in the mess. We’ll come immediately. Tell your father.’

Chloe ran back to the embankment, where the seaward side of the agora dropped down to the shore in a sloped defensive bastion. She was soon standing beside Aristocles and the other consuls as they watched the strange ship approach.

Her first thought was that it was obviously damaged. It listed to the side and appeared difficult to maneuver as it navigated the harbor and headed for a bare patch of shore at the small bay’s far end. The sail was down and it was moving through the water by oars alone, while to Chloe’s eyes the mast was at a strange angle. The tide was coming in and pushed the ship almost into the rocks at the headland, before a burst of speed from the rowers nudged the vessel past danger.

Chloe’s next thought was that it was undoubtedly a warship. Though the ship was a galley, it was unlike any galley she had ever seen. Oars jutted out on both sides, more oars than she would have believed possible to fit into a ship of its size, and she realized that it actually had two rows of benches, one row on top of the other. Each tier was open at the side and she saw rowers moving back and forth in laborious unison. Above the top level of rowers was a deck that formed a roof above their heads.

Soldiers stood on the top deck: leather-armored marines, swarthy men with spears and triangular shields. An eye was painted on either side of the warship’s prow, which curved out in a bowsprit and then back under the water in an iron-tipped ram just below the waterline. The ship flew a strange flag, a solid orange circle on a field of yellow.

Her final thought was that she’d never seen such a large warship. It was at least eighty feet long and must have employed well over a hundred men in its service. It made the Phalesian war galleys, presently pulled up on shore, appear puny in comparison.

‘Back! Everyone back!’ Chloe heard Amos’s voice.

The crowd moved back from the edge of the embankment to let the soldiers gain access to the set of narrow steps leading down to the shore. Each hoplite looked resplendent in his short skirt of leather strips, leather breastplate, and leather helm, while Amos’s helm was made of shining steel, crowned by a crest of horsehair dyed with indigo. Captain Amos and his subcommanders all wore blue cloaks, and Chloe counted ten units in total, which meant that a hundred men were soon assembling on the beach under the captain’s direction.

Finally, Amos turned back to face Chloe’s father, his head tilted back and legs apart as he looked at the embankment high above and waited for orders.

‘It must have been damaged in the same event,’ Consul Nilus whispered.

‘Who are they? What flag is that?’

Chloe watched as the warship left the deep water to enter the lighter blue of the shallows. Phalesia’s harbor was a crescent-shaped beach of smooth white stones with headlands and cliffs at both ends. It was large enough to easily accommodate Phalesia’s entire fleet but not immense, its size making for easier defense, for any enemies would have difficulty making a secret landing.

‘Captain!’ Aristocles called down to Amos. ‘Move to intercept their men as they disembark, but greet them with civility before you bring their leader to me. Respond to force in kind.’

‘At once, First Consul,’ Amos said.

The captain led his men along the beach until they were ranged above the high-water mark, showing discipline as they formed up one after the other, turning to wait in a wide phalanx. Chloe watched the warship beach itself before the rowers jumped out the sides, plunging into water up to their waists. They hauled the vessel higher and higher, timing their movements to a coordinated grunt.

Finally, with the warship hauled above the tide line, a ramp marked with regular steps slid down from the top deck. With long practice the dark-skinned rowers leaned the gangway up against the pebbled shore.

A solitary man left the upper deck to descend the ramp. He was too far away for Chloe to see much of his features, but she gained an impression of a warrior’s physique contrasted with opulent orange robes.

Captain Amos went down to the end of the gangway. He removed his helmet to offer greeting as the newcomer reached the land. For a time they spoke together.

Amos then called out to one of his officers, evidently instructing them to wait as he led the foreigner along the beach, toward the steps to the embankment, while the rest of the soldiers remained to watch the warship.

Chloe saw her father exchange glances with the other consuls before speaking. ‘Consuls,’ he said, ‘come.’

Aristocles walked to stand at the top of the embankment steps that led down to the shore. There were so many consuls that it took time for them to get into a semblance of order, but finally they stood in a mass vaguely resembling a half circle, ranged around the first consul at the midpoint with Consul Nilus at his side.

Moments later the newcomer and Amos crested the embankment steps and Chloe now had her first good look at the stranger. He was swarthy, with olive skin darkened by exposure to sun and sea. A curled beard glistened in the light and she guessed it had been oiled, along with his hair, a heavy mop of dark locks. His upper lip was also mustached, but unlike his beard it was neatly trimmed. He had black eyes and faint scars on his face and hands; Chloe’s initial impression of a warrior was confirmed. Amos was not a small man and had an athletic build that reminded Chloe of the statues of the gods. Yet the foreigner was bigger still.

He cast his eyes over the city before turning his attention to the assembled gathering as he came to a halt in front of Aristocles. Chloe watched as her father waited with a face like stone. It was a tactic she had seen him employ on more than one occasion and it could make men tremble. She didn’t know if the stranger even noticed. Instead he neither bowed nor smiled; he simply started to speak with a thick, rolling accent.

‘I am Kargan, captain of the bireme
Nexotardis
. The earthquake damaged my ship.’ He spoke the last in a growling voice, as if it was an insult that offended his pride. ‘I need to make repairs.’

‘I bid you welcome,’ Aristocles said. ‘I am Aristocles, First Consul of Phalesia, and this is Consul Nilus. Behind me is the Assembly of Consuls, those who administer the city of Phalesia and its environs.’

Kargan nodded slowly. He looked from face to face, examining the consuls arrayed in front of him. He appeared perplexed. ‘Where is your king? Summon him, that I may discuss arrangements.’

Aristocles cleared his throat. ‘I am first consul. In the first instance, you shall speak with me.’

‘Eh?’ Kargan raised an eyebrow, but then gave a dismissive wave. ‘No matter. I intend to pay for all materials, though we have supplies and will not be requiring much. I will also pay for the use of your harbor and beach.’

Aristocles gazed out at the wounded warship. ‘Your men are no doubt weary from your journey, which judging by the state of your vessel has been a harrowing experience. We can discuss arrangements when you have seen to their well-being.’ He spread his arms. ‘I extend an invitation for you and your senior officers to dine with me . . . and Consul Nilus, of course, tonight at my villa.’

Kargan grunted. ‘I will need to secure the safety of my ship, but then I would welcome it.’

Without another word, Kargan turned away.

Consul Nilus spoke for the first time, clearing his throat before calling out. ‘Before you go . . .’ He was momentarily at a loss for words. ‘Who are you?’

Kargan made a surprised sound, frowning as he faced Nilus. ‘We are of Ilea, from across the Maltherean Sea. I serve Solon the sun king, who rules his empire from his capital Lamara, the city I call my home. Surely you know of Ilea? Our empire covers most of Salesia, from the Shadrian Passage in the west, to the city of Efu in the east.’

Kargan didn’t appear to care about the consuls’ reaction one way or another. He gave a short bow and then spun on his heel, heading for the narrow steps and the harbor shore. Amos glanced at Aristocles and then scurried to keep up with the stranger.

5

Chloe readily agreed to her father’s request that she prepare food for the foreigner’s welcome feast. While the servants were passable cooks, if the event was especially important, she often handled both the cooking and serving of the meal. As she worked in the kitchen she felt nervous, but she was curious about this man, Kargan, and his homeland across the sea. If she could help her father deal successfully with a nation that commanded such powerful warships, she would consider the night a success.

Sophia came over, carrying a large ceramic bowl colored black and gold and decorated with a scene of two men hunting stags on white horses. She showed Chloe the pile of fruit inside. ‘I discarded the bad figs.’

‘Well done,’ Chloe said. ‘Could you arrange the cheese, bread, and olives on the big plate over there?’

Chloe herself was grinding wheat with a mortar and pestle. The dish wasn’t big enough, and she tipped the coarse grain from the mortar into a larger bowl before starting to grind more.

Her father poked his head into the kitchen and scanned the room. He nodded with satisfaction when he saw Sophia arranging the cold foods and noted hot coals in the cooking hearth, with smoke departing through the hood above.

‘You look worried,’ Chloe said. ‘You should rest. Everything here’s under control.’

Aristocles came forward and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head and smiling down at her fondly. ‘My beloved child . . . Where would I be without you?’

She looked up at him and saw moisture at the corners of his eyes. She never knew when his thoughts would turn to her mother. People often said that with every passing year Chloe was growing to look more and more like her.

Leaving a hand on her shoulder, Aristocles turned to Sophia. ‘I just need to mention, Sophia, this man is foreign and unused to our ways.’

‘I will be your dutiful, doting daughter,’ Sophia piped from the other side of the room.

Aristocles smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. He truly was concerned.

‘Father . . . Who are these people?’ Chloe asked.

Aristocles paused before speaking. ‘Ilea is across the Maltherean Sea.’

‘Further than the isle of Athos, where the Oracle lives?’

Aristocles nodded. ‘Further than Athos. Ilea is on the Salesian continent. I know little of their king, Solon, but word is that in the past years he has swallowed his neighbors into his empire. He is a powerful ruler.’

‘This man, Kargan,’ Chloe said. ‘Is he powerful also?’

‘That remains to be seen,’ Aristocles said. ‘We must ask many questions and answer few.’

Hermon, one of the servants, a stooped old man who had tutored Chloe in childhood, came and bowed to Aristocles. ‘Consul Nilus is here, Lord.’

‘Show him in,’ Aristocles said.

Moments later Chloe heard her father in the reception as he spoke with his plump colleague. ‘Nilus, how good of you to come.’

‘Is he here?’

‘No, not yet.’

‘Any idea how many companions he will bring?’

‘My message specified no more than two.’

‘Tell me, Aristocles, what is our strategy?’

Sophia called out from the kitchen. ‘Ask many questions and answer few.’

Chloe frowned at her younger sister, but Nilus laughed. ‘An excellent idea,’ he said, coming to the door of the kitchen. A plump man with curly black hair and a round face that was often red when he spoke, he was one of her father’s rivals, but also a colleague and confidant who occasionally came to the villa to work with Aristocles late into the night.

Seeing Chloe, Nilus scratched at his cheek before speaking. ‘Ah . . . Aristocles. Your daughter—’

‘I will be a gracious host,’ Chloe said. Her lips thinned. ‘It was only when they started blaming the eldren that I had to say something.’

‘You can’t let them hurt Zachary,’ Sophia said.

‘Yes, well, it is a delicate issue,’ Nilus said.

‘I’m making one of mother’s dishes,’ said Chloe, changing the subject. ‘Spiced meal cakes with pork sausages.’

‘Excellent,’ Nilus said. ‘I do miss her cooking. The gods only know why fever strikes some and not others. She was a good woman, of that there could never be doubt.’

Chloe smiled sadly. ‘Why don’t you have father pour you some wine?’

‘Excellent . . . Excellent.’ Nilus looked around. ‘Where is your father?’

‘Nilus, come, our guest is here,’ Aristocles called out from the reception.

Chloe and Sophia exchanged glances while they worked. Busy with the preparation of the food, Chloe listened to the conversation in the next room as she mixed the coarse flour she’d been grinding with salt and dried oregano.

‘Lord Kargan, you have brought no companions?’ Nilus was asking.

‘There are none on the
Nexotardis
with my status,’ Kargan’s gravelly voice replied.

‘Please, take a seat,’ Chloe’s father said. ‘Let me pour you wine.’

‘Where are your servants?’

‘I have sent them away for the night. My daughters will be preparing the food and serving.’

‘It is a great honor,’ Nilus said.

‘Your women are allowed to share the same quarters as your men? You have them serve your food?’

‘I am sure many of our customs are different from yours,’ Aristocles said smoothly. ‘If you wish, I can recall the servants, if that would make you more comfortable.’

‘Bah,’ Kargan grunted. ‘Your house, your rules.’ There was a pause. ‘Tell me, is this the palace you provide for your king?’

Chloe added water to the flour mixture and proceeded to make flat cakes. After using up all the mixture, she went to the fire and checked the coals were low enough, and that there was space in the stone bed for all the cakes to fit.

‘This is not a palace. It is my villa,’ Aristocles said.

‘I must agree with you,’ Kargan said. ‘This is no palace.’

Chloe heard gulping and then a clunk as someone set a goblet back down onto the table. ‘More wine!’ Kargan called. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I forget you have no servants.’

‘Put these on the hot surface near the coals,’ Chloe quickly instructed her sister, indicating the meal cakes. ‘Then bring in the cold platter.’

Chloe left the kitchen and entered the expansive reception. The room was artfully arranged, with no evidence of the recent disturbance to Aristocles’ home. Marble statues of Aristonias and Nestor, two of Phalesia’s democratic fathers, occupied each corner, while along the stone wall were fine ceramics and low stools and tables.

The three men sat on angular recliners, spaced close together, and between them was a table the height of a man’s knee. The room was big enough to accommodate twenty men, yet Kargan’s dark eyes were scanning it dismissively.

As Chloe walked in she saw that he wore a flowing yellow robe of thick silk, fastened at the waist with an elaborate belt of woven orange thread covering leather. Hanging from his belt was a curved dagger with a jeweled hilt, the scabbard plain but fine quality. His oiled hair was tidier than before and his beard was now curled in a series of locks.

‘Ah.’ Aristocles cleared his throat. ‘Lord Kargan, may I introduce my eldest daughter, Chloe.’

Chloe placed her hands together and gave a small bow, while Kargan glanced at her once and then looked away. ‘More wine, Lord?’ Chloe asked as she reached for the jug and refilled Kargan’s cup, then pouring for her father and Consul Nilus.

As Chloe backed away, Sophia entered the room with the platter.

‘And my youngest daughter, Sophia,’ Aristocles said.

‘It is my pleasure to serve you, Lord,’ little Sophia said formally.

Nilus and Aristocles both smiled, but Kargan appeared bored.

‘Come,’ Chloe said to her sister under her breath. She led Sophia back into the kitchen, where the aroma of the spiced bread already filled the room.

After the girls’ departure, Chloe heard the jangle of coin and then heard something thunk onto the wooden table.

‘How much silver do you want for the use of your harbor?’ Kargan said. ‘We can buy our own materials and supplies at the agora.’

‘Please,’ Aristocles said. ‘Enjoy the food before we discuss business. Surely it is a change from the fare you have on your ship?’

Chloe heard the sound of men eating. She went out once more to refill their cups and saw Kargan devouring figs and olives one after the other before she returned to the kitchen.

‘These are fair enough,’ Kargan said. ‘I only eat and drink the best.’

‘You mentioned your status earlier,’ Nilus said delicately. ‘What exactly is your status?’

‘I am captain of the
Nexotardis
and admiral of the sun king’s navy. I am Great King Solon’s adviser. I have a military command also. Few in the sun king’s court may call themselves my equal.’

‘Please, tell us your story,’ said Aristocles. ‘How did your ship come to be damaged?’

Chloe added the sausages to a pot, along with some wine, thyme, barley, and fermented fish sauce. She rested the pot in the coals before returning to her place near the kitchen doorway, poking out her head to see if anyone’s wine needed topping up.

‘—appears that it struck your city also,’ Kargan was saying. ‘We were beached at the time and the waves threw the
Nexotardis
up onto the rocks. I sent the rest of our ships home while I searched for a harbor.’

Chloe entered the reception and refilled Kargan’s cup. He ate while he talked, speaking in between mouthfuls of white cheese and gulps of red wine.

‘The gods are angry,’ Nilus said.

‘Not my area of expertise,’ Kargan said with a shrug. ‘I command the sun king’s ships.’

‘What were you doing on this side of the Maltherean Sea?’

‘Trading with the Sarsicans. Then we were heading to the Oracle at Athos to make an offering.’

‘We trade with Sarsica,’ Nilus said. ‘Wine, barley, ceramics, leather, tools . . . I wasn’t aware of any trade between Sarsica and the Salesian continent.’

Chloe and Sophia cleared the dishes, as invisible as servants to the big man with the oiled beard and mop of dark hair. Then Chloe had to attend to the pot on the cooking hearth, stirring the stew and then turning over the meal cakes. The delicious aroma made her mouth water, but the men would have their fill before the women. When Aristocles was alone he was never so formal, and they all dined together. But Chloe knew this night was important. She didn’t like to imagine what a mass of warships like the
Nexotardis
– biremes, she remembered the word Kargan had used to describe his ship – could do to Phalesia’s proud fleet.

Finally, Chloe brought the steaming pot to the central table while her sister set down another plate with the spiced meal cakes, along with bowls and spoons.

Aristocles looked at Chloe gratefully and Nilus made appreciative sounds, but Kargan growled, ignoring Nilus’s last comment about trade.

‘This is not the banquet I was expecting. When I saw how many of your men in expensive tunics were there to greet me I was sure a table the length of your agora was going to be required to fit them all. I thought to myself: this king has many advisers. Despite his simple garb he must be a powerful man. Your city is wealthy. You asked me my status, Aristocles. What is yours?’

‘Lord Aristocles is the first consul,’ Nilus said.

‘And what is a first consul?’

‘Our consuls are elected by the citizens,’ said Nilus. ‘We then elect one of our number to be first among us.’

‘Elect?’

‘We vote by speaking out in favor of one candidate or another. The man chosen by the most citizens is elected.’

‘Hmm,’ Kargan muttered. ‘Strange system.’

‘It has served us for longer than living memory,’ Aristocles said. ‘Every man’s voice is heard.’

‘Even the slaves?’ Kargan asked incredulously.

‘No,’ Nilus harrumphed. ‘Of course not the slaves.’

Aristocles interjected. ‘We see kings as tyrants, something to be abhorred. If a single man becomes too popular, too powerful, we send him away as an emissary to somewhere like Sarsica until his influence has waned.’

‘But in the name of Helios,’ Kargan spluttered. ‘Why?’

‘Long ago Phalesia was ruled by a strong tyrant, a good king, you may say,’ Aristocles said. ‘But he in turn was followed by a weak son, who was then succeeded by a ruthless despot. Men with ide
als formed a secret cabal to overthrow the mad king before he led the city to ruin. During their struggle, they couldn’t agree on who should be king next, so they deferred the problem until the tyrant was gone, instead making decisions by vote. After they succeeded, the system stayed.’ There was obvious satisfaction in his voice.

‘But how can there be order?’ Kargan persisted. ‘If any man can lead, what is to prevent chaos? There are always more commoners than nobles, but nobles are the only men with the breeding and education to be trusted with power.’ His voice became firm. ‘Let me just say that if I see any sign of your system taking root in Ilea, I will personally lead a division of my best men to cull these ideas before they spread. I am glad we have the wide sea between us.’

Aristocles bit off any retort. All Phalesians were proud of the Assembly of Consuls, and Chloe knew he would be itching to take up the argument, but he was also wise enough to put diplomacy first.

‘What of your king, Solon?’ Nilus asked. ‘Please, tell us about him.’

‘Solon is beloved of the sun god Helios and has taken Ilea into a new age.’ Glancing in from the kitchen doorway, Chloe saw Kargan puff up his broad chest. ‘Our armies are huge; our warriors are the strongest. The sun king takes tribute from Shadria, Sarina, Haria, and the isles of Ibris, Amphi, and Tarlana. In Lamara I can buy the finest goods. Our new biremes expand our influence every year.’

‘We may also be interested in trade,’ Nilus said, looking up to meet Kargan’s eyes.

Kargan shrugged. ‘It remains to be seen if trade is possible. I don’t intend to remain long, only until I’ve made repairs to the
Nexotardis
.’

‘We will help in any way we can,’ Aristocles said. ‘And we wish you to feel welcome while you are in Phalesia.’

‘As I have said many times, I will pay. I do have one condition, however. Nobody is to set foot on the
Nexotardis
, nor wander too close. Understood?’