Silver Road (The Shifting Tides Book 2)

by James Maxwell

  ‘Stand up! Yes, that’s it. Good. Now walk.’

  With a man on both sides, he was hauled up the sandy shore and now there was hard but smooth stone under his feet. The journey was arduous; his arms ached and his legs barely kept his body upright and moving; if his captors hadn’t been supporting him he would have fallen a dozen times.

  He climbed up some steps, then he was walking on timber planking and the going was easier. Finally he could walk on his own, with a slender man, the owner of the softer voice, helping to keep him upright while his companion went ahead. Despite Dion’s situation his helper’s movements were gentle.

  His legs kicked into something and he stopped.

  ‘It’s a stool.’ The slender man spoke, his light and airy voice somehow familiar. ‘I’m going to move it so you can sit. You got it? Slowly now. There she goes.’ He now called out to his companion. ‘Reece? Where are you going?’

  ‘I’m getting Jax.’

  The slender man left Dion and began humming a tune as he busied himself nearby. Bound, blindfolded, seated on his stool, Dion tried to imagine where he was. He’d been taken out to sea for a time, before he was landed somewhere near a rocky shore. Not far from the shore he’d encountered well-made timber flooring underfoot, and then the echo of voices had changed enough to tell him that at the present he was most likely surrounded by walls.

  Suddenly Dion froze. He felt a sharp blade pressed against his neck, so hard and tight that he was afraid to breathe or swallow.

  ‘Listen.’ The curt voice belonged to Reece, the bigger of the two men. ‘We’ve tracked down your pretty little boat. That’s ours now. Your gems are ours too, and if you don’t answer our questions we’ll take your more valuable stones as well.’ His voice was low and ominous, the meaning clear. ‘Tell us what we want to know or I’ll turn you into something like my friend Finn here.’

  ‘Hey,’ the owner of the softer voice protested. ‘I’m no eunuch.’

  ‘Well, whatever you are, you’re not like other men,’ Reece retorted.

  ‘But there are other men like me,’ Finn said. ‘And those men like me.’

  Reece made a sound of disgust. ‘I’ve told you not to speak that way in front of me.’

  ‘You started it—’

  Dion was only partly aware of the exchange; the knife edge pressed against his neck was forcing him to concentrate on his breathing, to keep his body as still as he possibly could.

  ‘Enough.’ A third man spoke, the sound of footsteps growing louder as the newcomer approached. This voice was strong and confident; the owner was as well-spoken as a noble. ‘Reece, ease off a bit, look at him, he’s afraid to breathe, let alone speak. And Finn . . . Just keep your mouth shut.’

  The pressure of the blade on Dion’s neck relaxed slightly. The pain in his head was also beginning to ease from a stabbing throb to a dull ache, enabling him to think more clearly.

  ‘Answer truthfully or you’re dead,’ Reece growled. ‘Where did you get the gemstones?’

  Finn whistled. ‘Jax, look at this one.’

  Dion tried to speak but it came out as a croak. ‘I found . . .’ He cleared his throat and tried again, choosing his words with care. ‘I found them at Cinder Fen.’

  ‘Cinder Fen?’ Jax made a sound of surprise. ‘You found so many and lived? How?’

  ‘By my wits.’

  ‘Can you find more?’ Jax asked.

  Dion shook his head. He tested his bonds, but these men knew their business, and with his arms tied behind his back and a blindfold over his eyes there was nothing he could do. ‘I found a cave. Inside were some long dead bodies and a pouch. The answer is no.’

  Reece sighed. ‘I told you this was a waste of time.’

  ‘It was worth a try,’ Finn said.

  ‘So what now?’ Dion spoke up. ‘You’ve robbed me, taken everything I have. Now what, you kill me?’ He lifted his chin. ‘What will you do with my body? I don’t think I’m able to climb.’

  ‘Who says anything about climbing?’ Reece snapped. ‘We can just kill you here and throw your body in the water.’

  ‘No, you can’t.’

  Reece’s irritation was growing. ‘And why is that?’

  ‘Because, if I’m correct, we’re at Smuggler’s Cove, and the currents would take my body right back to Myana. You don’t want that. The harbormaster doesn’t care for corpses drifting into his city.’

  Finn chuckled. ‘He’s a quick one.’

  Jax was intrigued. ‘How do you know where we are?’

  ‘The sound the waves make on the rocks and the way the walls reflect the echoes. My sense of time since you ambushed me. The smell of wooden barrels and smoke. I’m in a hidden cave near the water, somewhere in the vicinity of Myana. I’ve heard of Smuggler’s Cove. I know currents. So what’s your plan?’

  Finn laughed shrilly, almost girlishly. ‘He’s good. We should ask him the questions, Jax.’

  ‘Him?’ Reece barked. ‘He may be simply dressed but you’ve heard the way he speaks. And with that boat . . . He’s a lord or a lord’s son. I’d stake my life on it.’

  ‘Come on, Jax,’ Finn wheedled. ‘Ask him the questions.’

  ‘Hold on,’ Jax ordered. ‘Let me think.’

  There was silence for a time as the leader considered. Time dragged out as Dion turned his head, looking at where he imagined each of his three captors to be.

  ‘All right,’ Jax said. ‘We’ll see what he says.’

  ‘Him—?’

  ‘Enough. I’ve made my decision.’ This time Jax’s order met no opposition. ‘Friend, what is your name and where are you from?’

  Dion’s brow furrowed as he thought. His name might be known in Sarsica. He was the brother of the king of Xanthos. He’d rescued Chloe from the clutches of the sun king and helped her to save the golden ark. ‘Andion,’ he said. ‘Andion of Orius.’

  He imagined Jax looking down at him. ‘So, Andion of Orius. Second question. What is your trade?’

  ‘Sailor,’ Dion said. He’d already proven as much. ‘Sometime hunter.’ He swallowed, still aware of the blade on his skin. ‘I might not wear silver but I follow Silex.’

  ‘Explains the bow,’ Finn said in a loud whisper.

  ‘Third question,’ Jax went on without pausing. ‘How satisfied do you feel with your current life?’

  Dion was surprised; he couldn’t hazard where the queries were leading. ‘My parents are dead,’ he said, remembering his gentle mother and stern father. ‘I’m alone. I came to Sarsica to sell the gemstones.’

  ‘What did they die of?’ Finn asked curiously. ‘What did your father do?’

  ‘That’s not part of the normal questions,’ Jax said in exasperation.

  ‘My father was a . . . fisherman,’ Dion said. ‘They died of fever.’

  ‘With your accent?’ Reece asked.

  ‘He owned a fleet.’

  ‘See, Reece?’ Finn spoke in a smug voice. ‘He’s not a noble. You’re always so quick to judge.’

  ‘Listen, you peacock—’

  ‘Both of you. Shut your mouths. I’m not finished,’ Jax ordered. ‘Fourth question. Do you have a bed somewhere with a woman waiting? Little brats screaming and wailing?’

  Dion thought about Chloe, perhaps already his brother’s wife. ‘No,’ he said shortly.

  ‘Fifth question,’ Jax said. ‘Can you fight?’

  Dion smiled, knowing they would see it. ‘As long as I have a bow in my hand. Yes.’

  ‘Sixth question. Do you believe that all people were created equal, regardless of race or color?’

  ‘And gender,’ Finn said. ‘What?’ he protested. ‘Someone has to speak for the women.’

  Dion frowned. ‘I suppose I do. Yes.’

  ‘Seventh question. Do you believe a man should be able to attain a station in life according to his skills and merits?’

  Dion’s frown deepened. ‘I do,’ he said slowly.

  ‘Eighth. Do you believe everyone should be free to
follow any god, or love any person, he or she wants?’

  Finn spoke in the sinister voice a villain would use at the theatre. ‘Think carefully about this one.’

  ‘Yes.’ Dion smiled despite himself.

  ‘Ninth question. Do you believe one man should be able to enslave another?’

  Jax’s tone told Dion he needed to answer this question correctly. His headache grew as he tried to think. There were slaves in Xanthos, Phalesia, Tanus, Sarsica . . . in all the Galean nations. Most were treated well, but not all, and once indentured it could be difficult, even impossible, to buy a way to freedom. He hadn’t given much thought to the practice, only to know instinctively that the cruelty he’d seen in Ilea was beyond anything he’d seen elsewhere. ‘No.’

  ‘Last question, do you believe a king should have the full support of his men, otherwise he is no king?’

  The pieces came together in Dion’s mind. ‘I do. And I know who you are. You’re the Free Men.’

  ‘You’ve heard of us,’ Jax said.

  Reece spoke up. ‘You asked whether we plan to kill you. That’s not how this works. We either let you go merrily on your way, or you join us.’ He chuckled. ‘But don’t ask for your gems or your boat back.’

  ‘So what’s it to be?’ Jax asked.

  Dion heard new voices approaching. A gravelly older voice contrasted with a deep baritone.

  Closer by, Finn spoke in a murmur: ‘The old man’s returned from town.’

  ‘. . . ridiculous what they’re charging for soap,’ the old man was saying to his companion.

  ‘Then don’t use so much,’ the deep voice said. ‘For a man with such a small surface area, you go through soap the way our resident priest goes through wine. Woah, who is this?’

  ‘He’s our newest member,’ Finn said. ‘Meet Andion of Orius.’

  Reece contradicted him. ‘He hasn’t decided to join yet.’

  ‘By Silex, it couldn’t be,’ the owner of the gravelly voice breathed. ‘Dion?’

  Dion sat up straight. He felt like a bucket of cold water had just been thrown over his head. Shock and amazement coursed through him in equal parts. His mouth worked soundlessly. He tried to speak, but no words came out.

  ‘Take off his blindfold!’ the old man growled.

  ‘Jax?’ Reece inquired.

  The newcomer with the deep voice spoke. ‘It appears we’re witnessing a reunion.’

  Jax gave an order. ‘Reece, do it.’

  Dion felt hands fumbling at the back of his head and blinked as his blindfold was removed, but the light cast by an oil lamp on a nearby table was dim and his eyes swiftly adjusted. His wrists were freed a moment later and he stood, swaying for a moment before finding his feet, seeing that he was in a circle of men, all watching him with open curiosity.

  But his eyes were only on the stunted old man with the bald head, rocking on his heels and grinning at him.

  Dion finally found his voice. ‘Cob?’

  Dion and Cob left the wooden shack at the cavern’s rear. Walking along the raised platform, they stopped near the water and talked.

  ‘I thought you were dead,’ Dion said. ‘I saw you swallowed whole, along with most of our boat.’

  ‘I thought I was too.’ Cob looked away as he ran a palm over his wrinkled crown, evidently reliving the horror. ‘That leviathan’s gullet sucked me down but I cut my axe into the floor of its mouth. Managed to hold fast, swimming round with half the Maltherean Sea and struggling not to drown or get cut up by the monster’s teeth.’

  The old sailor shuddered.

  ‘Must have hurt it, ’cause it spat me out and I found a few timbers to float on. I drifted awhile before I was picked up by a boat, part of a bigger fleet. The Free Men made me an offer, so I joined.’ He turned back to Dion and shrugged. ‘I never had much of a life in Xanthos.’

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ Dion said, gripping the shorter man’s shoulders. ‘I can’t tell you how good.’ His smile slowly fell. ‘Listen, there are some things—’

  ‘Lad,’ Cob interrupted. ‘I know.’ He waited for his words to sink in. ‘News travels, and the story of the half-eldran prince isn’t believed everywhere but it’s repeated. You’re in the right place here. No one judges. Not for anything. Still, if you want to keep your secrets, that’s fine with me. Finn said you’re Andion of Orius, so that’s who you are. I’ll just say Dion is my name for you.’ He grinned. ‘I’ve known you since you first grew whiskers. It’s my right to call you what I want.’

  ‘They asked me ten questions,’ Dion said. ‘Then they asked me if I want to join.’

  Cob nodded. ‘I know the process. And?’

  Dion drew in a deep breath and then let it out. He met the old man’s gaze and came to a decision. ‘I think I will.’

  ‘Good.’ Cob slapped him on the back. ‘Come on. I’ll introduce you properly.’

  Cob led him back along the walkway, and now that Dion had more time to appreciate his surroundings, he took in the rows of barrels lining the cavern wall and the cold ashes of a campfire down on the beach. Back at the cove’s entrance moonlight shimmered on the water, providing just enough light to see. Ahead of him the timber-walled shack was large enough to accommodate several rooms and even had curtain-covered windows, open to let in the breeze, for it was a warm night. Light flickered from the oil lamp within, silhouetting the four men waiting inside.

  ‘Finished catching up?’ said a brawny man with arms folded over his chest when Cob entered with Dion beside him. He had the weathered skin of a sailor, a pinched, rat-like face, and eyes that were too close together. His dark, thinning hair was matched by the color of his eyes, which were narrowed as he scowled.

  ‘Andion here has decided to join us,’ Cob said. ‘So it’s time he put faces to your voices.’ He nodded to the stocky man, whose identity Dion had already deduced. ‘You’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Reece, our surly but brave lieutenant.’ Reece’s scowl deepened.

  Cob then indicated a slender, long-haired man with fine features, delicate hands and arched eyebrows, slouching in the corner. He had a crimson scarf around his neck and a silver earring in the shape of a fish dangling from one ear. ‘And this is Finn, our purser and aspiring thespian.’

  Finn gave a bow with a long flourish, before tossing a lock of his hair away from his eyes. He pursed his lips. ‘You can trust Gilgud the jeweler,’ he said in falsetto. ‘He will give you a fair price.’

  The other men all chuckled. Dion’s eyes widened: the soothsayer wasn’t just false; the imposter hadn’t even been a woman. He opened his mouth but decided his questions would have to wait.

  ‘This is Gideon.’ Cob nodded at a lean, muscular man with glistening skin the color of ebony.

  ‘Pleasure,’ Gideon said; his was the deepest voice. The dark-skinned man had a broad face, high cheekbones, and a shaved head. He wore a loose sailor’s tunic, and white whip scars were visible on almost every surface of his skin. Seeing Dion’s eyes on his scars, Gideon nodded. ‘I was a slave and now I am free.’ He tapped the side of his head. ‘But the mind can be a prison also, something I urge you to remember.’

  ‘Gideon is our quartermaster and unlikely philosopher,’ Cob explained with a grin. ‘Where Finn counts our silver, Gideon looks after our blankets and weapons, water and flour.’

  ‘And of the two of us I am far the prettier,’ Finn said. ‘Gideon’s last owner saw to that.’

  ‘Gideon was slave to a magus in Koulis,’ said Cob, ‘but when his master died they sold him on the block. No one thought a so-called savage from Imakale could read and write, nor recite the epic of Sooth from start to finish, so he ended up working stone in the quarries until he escaped.’

  Gideon looked away, and Dion guessed that all of the Free Men had similar stories.

  ‘And finally,’ Cob said. ‘This is Jax.’

  The first thing Dion noticed was that he had a scar in a long line that began at his forehead and followed the side of his face, terminating
at his chin. Tall, lean, and undoubtedly striking, he had graying hair at his temples, a neat moustache, and wore a rakish cap at an angle on his head and a pale blue tunic. Without the scar he would have been handsome; with it his features were undoubtedly marred. But he had a friendly, open face and a broad smile that combined with his twinkling eyes to give an impression of mischief. When he crossed the room to clasp Dion’s hand his movements were smooth and graceful, but his firm grip told Dion there was also strength in his limbs.

  ‘I ran away from a family of farmers at twelve,’ he said. ‘And here I am.’

  Cob shook his head and snorted, glancing at Dion. ‘We’ll get the truth out of him one day.’

  ‘Now, how do you two know each other?’ Jax asked.

  ‘Cob taught me everything I know about sailing,’ Dion said.

  ‘We sailed together in Xanthos,’ Cob finished. ‘Back when I worked for the king.’

  Jax smiled. ‘Good! Our admiral will have some long-awaited help then.’

  ‘Admiral?’ Dion queried, looking at Cob.

  Cob barked a laugh. ‘I do all the dirty work looking after our ships. Speaking of which . . .’

  Jax nodded. ‘We sail at dawn. Andion, your bow will be returned when we arrive.’

  Dion knew better than to ask about the gemstones, but there was one thing he had to ask. ‘And my boat, the Calypso?’

  ‘She’s a fine boat,’ Jax said. ‘We’ll look after her for a time. Reece will sail her.’

  Dion looked at Jax’s surly right-hand man, who was now smiling for the first time. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Fort Liberty,’ Finn spoke up. ‘That’s where you’ll give your oath.’

  ‘And where Jax will decide on your new position,’ Reece said.

  30

  Chloe’s anxious gaze swept the sunlit plain, interspersed with rows of windswept hills, like tawny waves frozen in time. There was little cover, and if Nikolas’s men were still in pursuit she needed to find somewhere they could shelter and rest before they tried to circle back to civilization.