‘I need to speak with you about this very subject.’ He nodded to a distant figure, and Chloe saw one of his magi come forward, the man’s yellow robe indicating dedication to the sun god. As she recognized the dark-eyed magus who had questioned her when she first administered to Solon in his bedchamber, he handed Solon a sack, before bowing and withdrawing.
Chloe’s eyes widened with horror as she recognized the sack, but she fought to remain calm. She had made it this far; she had to be strong.
‘One of my magi smelled my tea and told me something that I initially did not believe,’ Solon said. ‘But on my return we searched your chambers and found these.’
He reached into the sack and withdrew a single flower pod, greenish-purple, with a circular crest on top.
‘Tell me, Chloe of Phalesia, follower of Aeris, skilled healer,’ he said, speaking in a low voice that filled Chloe with dread. ‘Are these what the magi say they are? Are these things . . . flowers of bliss?’
Chloe tried to speak with a firm voice. ‘They are a powerful medication for easing pain—’
‘They are banned by law,’ Solon said softly. He drew himself up on the throne, leaning forward, looming over her. His expression shifted from pain, to anger, to vengeful rage. ‘You have had me drinking milk of the poppy!’
‘If it eases your pain—’
‘My pain—’ he cried, and then broke off, coughing. He started again. ‘My pain is merely my soul passing through the jagged gates of Ar-Rayan. We know what you have been doing. We know where you have been going to get these . . . things.’
He stood, stepping down from the dais and walked forward to loom over Chloe.
‘Come,’ Solon said.
With guards on both sides of her, Chloe had no choice but to follow. Solon walked to the terrace, passing through the archways and standing out in the open air. He turned and waited for her approach.
The terrace was a pleasant place, overlooking the city and the broad river, with colorful flowers in pots and a wide central basin filled with water.
It was devoid of people, and Chloe couldn’t see what Solon wanted to show her. When she reached him he walked to the edge of the terrace and clutched onto the rail with bony fingers. Leaning forward, he looked down.
Chloe came to stand beside him.
There was a lower level of paved stones and spiky plants in gardens that she hadn’t previously been aware of. It was far larger than the terrace, and she guessed it had something to do with the soldiers.
The wide space was revealed to her as she came closer to the rail, until she stood alongside the sun king.
She followed his gaze.
‘No!’ she moaned.
Tomarys was bare-chested and crimson blood covered his torso. His head lolled to the side, exposing his neck. Whip marks covered every part of his skin and his trousers hung in shreds.
His feet weren’t touching the ground.
Looking down, Chloe saw a vertical wooden stake holding him up. It entered his body somewhere between his legs and traveled up through his insides, emerging from his mouth.
‘I watched every moment of it,’ Solon hissed. ‘I made sure it went in slowly. Your betrayal was unexpected, but I understand it, you are my prisoner here. His, on the other hand, was not.’
Chloe couldn’t look on, but nor could she look away. The only man who had shown her any kindness had been given the worst death imaginable. And it was all because of her.
‘He told us everything,’ Solon said. ‘About your daily quests to find more flowers of bliss. He would not say that you planned to increase the dose to cause my death, but to me that is clear.’
Chloe realized that Tomarys had stayed loyal to her even in the face of unspeakable pain. He hadn’t told his torturers about training her in the arena, or about his gift of the amulet that even now hung around her neck.
Then her breath stopped. She felt as if she would be sick. Chills ran up and down her spine.
Tomarys’s head moved and he made a horrific gurgling moan.
He was still alive.
‘Dear gods!’ she whispered. Tears ran down her cheeks and she stifled a wracking sob. ‘Please . . . Dear gods!’
‘Rest in the knowledge that you did this to him, girl,’ Solon said, his low voice sounding somehow self-satisfied. ‘His pain is your doing.’
‘Please—’ Chloe said. She turned her moisture-filled eyes on the tall man beside her. ‘Please . . . Let me go to him. Let me say goodbye.’
Solon tugged on his pointed beard as he mused. He finally nodded to the guards on both sides of her. ‘Take her down to him. Let her see from a closer vantage.’
Chloe was barely aware of being led from the terrace and back through the throne room. Her guards took her outside, near the palace gates, and down a set of steps. Her feet were leaden as she walked, horror in every tread. She passed through a section of palace more functional than beautiful and emerged out into the open once more.
She approached the impaled man and looked up at him.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Chloe said.
Tomarys couldn’t speak; he couldn’t even turn his head to look at her, but she knew he could hear.
Glancing up to where Solon watched from above, she pushed the guards away. She walked forward until just a few paces from her friend.
Chloe knew what she had to do.
She wrapped a hand around her amulet and looked down as if praying. With a click the small throwing knife came free.
Chloe prayed then. For the first time in her life, she prayed to Balal, the god of war, for her aim to be true. She prayed to Aeris to grant her this one act of compassion.
With her eyes fixed steadily on his exposed neck, she drew in a breath. Chloe’s arm whipped down and she released the knife when the point was right on target.
The triangle of sharp steel flew through the air. It sliced into her bodyguard’s jugular and then fell back to the ground with a clang of metal on stone.
Chloe watched, stone-faced and red-eyed, as bright, fresh blood pumped out of the man’s neck, gushing in a torrent. Tomarys’s head stopped moving. His body became entirely still.
She was dimly aware of shouting men, running forward and holding her fast. She kept her eyes on her bodyguard until they dragged her away.
Solon snarled. ‘Throw her into one of the cells beneath the palace while I decide what to do with her.’ He then called out again. ‘My last gift to you, girl. I am assembling the navy. Do you hear me? We sail to war. Soon it will be your beloved father who writhes on the stake.’
39
‘Dion, can you hear me?’
Dion heard Roxana’s gravelly voice. He groaned and tried to nod, but nearly blacked out with the effort.
‘He is very hurt,’ Anoush piped.
‘Really?’ Roxana said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘I thought he was just nursing a hangover. Gods, look at your face, Dion. I’ve seen better-looking ogres. You said he got waylaid in the city?’
‘Yes,’ Anoush said. ‘Bandits tried to rob him. I found him and got some men to help bring him back here.’
‘But they didn’t take his bow? First thing I would have taken.’
‘Soldiers frightened them off.’
‘Lucky for him. Or unlucky he got beaten before they came, I suppose. This city is more dangerous than hunting wildren, it seems.’ She barked a laugh. ‘Dion, if you can hear me, I’ve paid Algar from your wages. I’ve also given some coin to your’—she hesitated—‘manservant. For healing balms and supplies. There isn’t much left. Why in the name of Silex are you living in such expensive lodgings?’
Dion moaned.
‘Look, I know it hurts, but give it a couple of days and you’ll be all right. I’ve seen worse. Much worse. Hope you gave back as good as you got.’
Dion heard rustling.
‘Boy, listen. There’s not much you can do about his ribs. I’d say he’s broken at least two or three. It’ll hurt to laugh, so keep your jo
kes to a minimum.’ She snorted. ‘His head will clear. Put the poultice on his face, there, where it looks worst. Understand?’
‘Yes, mistress.’
‘Mistress? I like that. Look, I need to be going. You got all you need? Good. Tell him to come and see me when he’s better. He can tell me the story then, over a mug of beer. My treat.’
Dion fought to open his eyes, but the effort was too great.
Darkness overcame his senses.
40
The cells beneath the palace were empty. Chloe had the entire place to herself. The guards had thrown her inside one of several identical windowless chambers and then closed a heavy door behind her. She’d momentarily seen their faces through the grill at head height, before they’d slid the bolt and left.
She guessed that only valuable or dangerous prisoners must be kept in this place. The sun king’s captives would usually be either enslaved or immediately put to death. Although the copper chain around Chloe’s neck remained, the amulet Tomarys had bought her was gone; the guards knew such things could be bought in the market. Still overwhelmed by horror – she had killed a man, a true friend – she spent hours trying not to be consumed by her ragged emotions. Even so, she wrapped her arms around her knees and whimpered, leaning back against the hard stone wall and seeing flashing images of Tomarys’s suffering.
Finally, she fell asleep, huddled in the corner of her cell. She didn’t know how long she slept, only that it was for a long time. Her lips were dry and her throat parched; she had yet to be given any food or water.
Sudden remembrance struck like a dagger in the heart. She saw the stake driven up through Tomarys’s insides, emerging from his throat. She heard his terrible gurgling moan.
Chloe sobbed, but stifled it before it took hold of her. She had to be strong. She forced herself to look up and examine her surroundings.
It was dark, near pitch black; the only light came from the end of the corridor she’d entered through. The air was dry and cool. Standing and walking to the thick door, she peered through the window and counted six cells; she was in the cell closest to the door.
She heard movement – a soft tread of footsteps – and frowned, trying to locate the source of the sound. She then realized that her initial assessment was wrong: she wasn’t alone after all. A shadowy face appeared, staring at her through the bars of the most-distant cell.
‘You are upset, I take it?’ a wry voice said. ‘It has been a long time since I have had a companion here. I must say, I wasn’t expecting someone like you. How old are you, human?’
The figure brought his face forward so that the barest amount of light touched his features. Chloe saw high cheekbones and sharp features. He was the last person in the world she expected to see.
‘Zachary?’ She clutched hold of the bars but then faltered. An eldran was looking at her, but he wasn’t Zachary. ‘Who are you?’
He was tall, even for an eldran, and despite his sharp chin his face was broad and strong. When he shifted his head Chloe saw that he was completely bald and that his left eye was missing, displaying an empty, wrinkled socket. She had never seen an eldran so visually striking.
‘My name is Triton,’ he said. ‘You have heard of me? No?’ He sounded surprised. ‘I am the king of the eldren.’
‘King?’ Chloe was so surprised that she momentarily forgot about her own predicament. ‘I didn’t know the eldren had a king.’
He lifted his chin and spoke proudly. ‘The blood of Marrix runs in my veins.’
With his movement Chloe now saw that he had a thin golden collar around his neck. She wondered at its purpose. Eldren weren’t fond of metal, and could never willingly touch it.
‘Who is Marrix?’ The name was familiar, but Chloe couldn’t place it.
‘The last king to command all of the eldren. He died long ago, but his struggle is not forgotten. He led us, before most of my people turned wild and were lost to us. I have long ruled the eldren who live in the place you call the Waste.’
‘Why are you here?’
‘The sun king’s armies advanced north of Abadihn and Koulis, seeking a route into Galea.’ He shrugged. ‘We stopped them.’
‘You fight against the sun king?’ Chloe realized she might have a potential ally, if she could ever find a way to free them both.
‘We fought. But I was taken hostage and here I am. There is now an uneasy peace between us. My people will not fight while I am here.’
He brought up a hand as if to tug on the collar at his neck, but then stopped while still a few inches away, making a grimace of pain and bringing his hand back down.
‘Why do you wear a collar?’
He smiled without mirth. ‘I am not without power, girl. Without this collar around my neck I could change shape. Walls of stone would never keep me here.’
‘Does it hurt?’
‘The collar? Yes,’ he said shortly. ‘It hurts.’ He was pensive for a time. ‘Now who are you, girl? And why are you here?’
‘I come from Phalesia, one of the Galean nations. One of the sun king’s warships came to my homeland. I am the daughter of the first consul, and they took me prisoner. I was forming a plan to escape when I incurred the sun king’s wrath. Now,’ she said, echoing Triton’s words, ‘here I am. Solon now plans to lead a force to conquer my homeland.’
Triton frowned. ‘There are closer conquests. What is it he wants?’
‘He desires gold above all else. We have a sacred ark of gold—’
Triton swiftly leaned forward, his eyes suddenly wide as he peered at her, though he didn’t touch the iron bars. ‘Did you say an ark of gold? A chest?’ His voice was urgent. ‘What is inside?’
Chloe told the story of the tablets inscribed by the god Aldus, on which were the laws of morality that would grant a man entrance to heaven. ‘It would be sacrilege to open the ark, yet Solon wants to seize it and melt it down for his tomb.’
Triton relaxed. He nodded sagely. ‘I understand.’
‘He plans to take the ark, and any other gold, and kill our leaders.’ Chloe couldn’t bring herself to repeat the sun king’s threat to impale her father. ‘He must be stopped.’
‘He does, does he?’ Triton’s expression was pensive.
‘Triton . . . Would your eldren help us against him?’
His one good eye met her gaze. ‘If I were free, we would fight.’ He once again nearly touched the collar, before allowing his hand to fall. ‘Oh yes, we would.’
41
When Dion was finally well enough to think clearly, he was filled with anger.
In his mind’s eye he saw Chloe push her guard to the side and his shot go wild. He had taken a great risk to free her. Why did she help her captors?
From now on, she was on her own. As soon as he could, he would return home to Xanthos. The first consul’s daughter could remain a prisoner for all he cared.
He stood and looked around his small room. He wouldn’t miss Lamara. When he returned to Xanthos he would tell his father and brother about the things he had learned in his time away. He would find the best carpenters and shipwrights and start working on warships to rival anything in the sun king’s fleet. He would help Nikolas prepare strategies to prevent the sun king’s biremes making an easy landing.
As Dion prepared to depart he swayed slightly but decided he was able to make the journey. He dressed and put his quiver over his shoulder, then took up his composite bow. He was just about to leave when he heard light footsteps outside, and a moment later the round-faced boy who had saved his life drew the entrance curtain aside. Anoush grinned when he saw Dion up and about.
‘Master, you are well again. I have come straight from the harbor. Your captain gave me a message for you.’
Dion didn’t expect to see Roxana again, but he nodded for Anoush to continue.
‘She says that the sun king’s navy is being made ready, and asks if you are fit enough to join her on a great expedition. There will be glory and plunder. The ships will
sail to a new land across the sea.’
Dion’s heart sank at the news. He thought quickly. ‘Did they name the land? Did you hear the name Phalesia?’
Anoush frowned. ‘No, that was not it. It was a different name.’
Dion’s eyes widened. ‘Xanthos?’
‘Yes.’ Anoush nodded vigorously. ‘Xanthos. That is it.’
He wondered how it was possible. Why would Solon’s fleet be sailing to Xanthos? The only route to the city’s harbor would take them past Phalesia. The Shards blocked the only other channel.
‘Are you certain it was Xanthos?’
‘Yes, master. They are sailing for Xanthos.’
Dion clenched his jaw. He wondered if there was something he could do to help his people. With his quest to rescue Chloe at an end, he now had to put his homeland first.
He was known at Lamara’s harbor. The guards would let him through. He had access to the sun king’s fleet.
He knew he had no choice.
Dion reached into the pouch at his belt, wincing as even the slight motion reminded him there were places that still hurt, and took out the last of his money: a silver coin and a handful of coppers.
‘Cup your hands,’ he instructed Anoush. He spilled coins into the boy’s palms. ‘I need you to do something for me. I want you to go to the bazaar, quickly, and buy me some lamp oil. As much as you can carry. Get tinder also. If there’s money left over it’s yours. Go, lad. Now!’
Anoush nodded and left swiftly to do his bidding. Dion paced and made plans, feeling the time passing far too quickly for his comfort. He decided he would head for the harbor at the end of the day, when most of the crews would have left. He had to be clever as well as lucky if he was going to leave Lamara alive.
He ate some dried fruit and drank water, feeling his strength return. His brow furrowed as he tried to understand the plans of Solon and his naval overlord, Kargan. Roxana had told Anoush they were sailing for Xanthos . . .
But how was that possible?
Anoush finally returned an hour before sunset. He struggled to make his way up the stairs as he carried a heavy satchel over one shoulder.
Golden Age (The Shifting Tides Book 1) Page 27