Silver Road (The Shifting Tides Book 2)

by James Maxwell

  Eiric had never spent so long nor expended such energy in changed form. He couldn’t believe Jonas could keep going. As the long dragon dropped, plunging behind the escarpment to become hidden by the heights, Eiric added still more speed to follow, neck craning as he tried to spy his enemy.

  Something smashed into him from behind.

  As jaws bit down on Eiric’s neck he writhed in the air, fighting to get a grip on his opponent. Soon they were both twisting and grappling as they tumbled down to the region of crags and gullies screened by the mountain range.

  The ground rose swiftly to meet the descending combatants. Eiric realized that he needed to outwit his opponent in order to defeat him.

  He imagined himself as strong, the strongest of all creatures that inhabited Cinder Fen. His arms were as thick as saplings, his legs the size of tree trunks. He brought up thoughts of walking and running. He could grip objects.

  The land was his domain.

  While still in the air, changing form was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but with a surge of courage he shifted, even as he clutched his opponent.

  Gray smoke clouded one of the wrestling dragons and cleared. A giant now roared as it embraced the long reptilian creature in its arms.

  With barely time to brace himself, Eiric felt pain shatter his body as he and Jonas struck the rocky ground. But Eiric was on top of his winged foe, and as they rolled over and over, Eiric now had the upper hand. He squeezed even as they tumbled down a steep hillside, hearing a crack as a bone in the dragon’s wing broke. Finally they came to a halt. The lean dragon was dazed and shuddering in pain, one wing crushed under his body, the other at an awkward angle. Shaking his head to clear it, Eiric spied a nearby boulder the size of his immense head. He lifted the rock and smashed it into the dragon’s skull. He raised the rock again and pounded his enemy twice more in quick succession.

  The dragon blurred and changed.

  Jonas, now a tall, lean eldran with spiked silver hair, moaned in pain as he lay prone on the ground. The wound on his crown was bloody, but he was alive.

  Eiric. My name is Eiric. I am an eldran.

  Finally Eiric was gasping, returned to his normal form. He blinked, dazed, almost too far gone to return to who he was.

  But his task wasn’t over yet.

  He leaned down, squeezing both hands around Jonas’s neck.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Eiric stared down into his enemy’s cold eyes. He had been scouting Cinder Fen, looking for signs of his father, when he’d felt the familiar sensation of an eldran he knew somewhere nearby.

  Jonas shook his head.

  Eiric suddenly sensed eyes on him. Scanning the area, he saw a clutch of furies, wings fluttering from their shoulder blades as they watched with interest. The wildren might not attack, but he knew he couldn’t change again. He had to leave the area.

  He decided to find a cave. He hadn’t found his father but he’d found the next best thing. He’d captured the traitor.

  And the traitor could lead him to Triton.

  32

  Built around the curve of a wide, well-fortified harbor, the port city of Koulis was a center for commerce, where the hilltop homes of the wealthy overlooked the constant activity of vessels coming and going. Towers with catapults guarded the two ends of the harbor’s arc and a wall encircled the entire city, which was surrounded by desert on all sides other than the sea.

  The buildings were Galean but the geography was Salesian. White marble temples with peaked roofs dedicated to Silex stood surrounded by groves of palm trees; and the city folk more commonly wore Galean togas, tunics, and chitons while they shopped for pungent spices from Ilea. There was a large agora, but there was also a slave market, teeming with activity night and day. Slaves of all description were available, but most popular were young men and women, girls and boys, always a lucrative source of income for the city. Water was scarce, with rights to the usage of wells strictly enforced by the Council of Five.

  Kargan and his fledgling bodyguard were at a drinking house not far from the harbor, a well-kept building with a painted orange sign that announced it as an establishment where Ileans were welcome. The clientele, predominantly men, sat on stools in circles around low tables; though it was early evening, most looked like they’d stay there until the place closed.

  The drinking house smelled of sweat and stale wine, with an additional whiff of anxiety. It was a difficult time to be an Ilean in Koulis. The Council of Five had declared the city’s independence in the wake of Solon’s death, but with a large Ilean population to contend with, unrest was likely.

  ‘So,’ Kargan said, running his eyes over his dour companion. Unlike Kargan, who wore a crimson tunic belted with a golden cord, Javid had neglected to upgrade his attire – despite Kargan’s offer – and still wore the leather vest and tight trousers he’d been wearing when they met. ‘From pyramid slave to stable hand, then assassin and finally bodyguard. I’d say you’re moving up in the world, my friend. At this rate you’ll be emperor in a month.’

  Kargan sighed when Javid didn’t even crack a smile, merely shaking his head and scanning the room with his dark, brooding eyes.

  ‘Relax,’ Kargan said. ‘You’re the biggest man in the room. We’re safe here.’

  He meant every word. With Javid’s whip scars and dark eyes, not to mention his size, no one was going to start any trouble.

  The owner of the drinking house came over to the table, giving the surface a quick wipe with a dirty rag. ‘Two cups of wine,’ Kargan said in response to his inquiring look.

  ‘I will take tea,’ Javid said.

  ‘Fine,’ Kargan said. ‘A cup of wine and a mug of tea.’ He nodded at his companion. ‘Can’t have my big friend here losing his head.’

  The owner left and returned promptly with the drinks. Kargan raised his wooden cup and drained it to the bottom, inclining his head for a refill.

  ‘Why are we here?’ Javid asked. ‘Is it just so you can drink? I thought you said you had plans.’

  ‘Never fear,’ Kargan said, pausing to take a draft when the proprietor refilled his cup. ‘I have a good reason. I need to get the mood of the city before I visit the Council of Five. It pays to be prepared.’

  ‘Well?’ Javid asked. ‘Have you learned anything?’

  ‘These things take time,’ Kargan said. ‘If I’m going to make myself useful to the Council I have to know what the city’s problems are. I’m a better naval commander than I am soldier, but I can put on armor if need be. I might be able to offer—’

  ‘We’re being watched,’ Javid said softly.

  Kargan turned around, scanning the room, bluntly staring at every face. The drinking house’s patrons were a motley assortment of laborers and dockworkers, men used to physical work, hauling supplies to and from the vessels that beached at Koulis every day.

  Javid was right, he realized. Several of them were speaking in hushed tones as they looked at Kargan repeatedly. Undeterred, Kargan scowled at them.

  One of the men rose to his feet.

  Seeing a middle-aged laborer, with sloping shoulders and worry lines on his forehead, Kargan relaxed. The stranger hesitantly approached, bowing when he reached the table.

  ‘Lord Kargan,’ the stranger said. ‘It . . . It is an honor to have you here. May we speak with you? Would you join us?’

  Kargan rose to his feet. Not a small man himself, he towered over the stranger. ‘Of course,’ he said, recognizing the man’s accent as Ilean. ‘Any Ilean deserves more than a few moments of my time.’

  ‘Your guard.’ The stranger nodded. ‘He can join us too.’

  ‘Bring the cups,’ Kargan ordered Javid, who responded with a glare.

  Soon Kargan was drawing up a stool to join the circle of workers, throwing two silver coins onto the table and calling for more wine. They immediately cheered him, raising their mugs to his name. After Kargan drained his third cup of bitter red wine, the careworn laborer who’d first spoken raised his voice again
.

  ‘How are you here, lord?’

  Kargan slammed his cup back onto the table. ‘I had a disagreement with the new king.’ He grinned at the group, and chuckles met his words. ‘I suppose I’m in exile.’

  The same man spoke again; he appeared to be the leader of the group. ‘We’re all Ileans, living in Koulis. Most of us have been here for years. Since . . .’ he hesitated, ‘since the city declared independence a few things have happened.’

  ‘Go on,’ Kargan rasped, lifting his cup but frowning when he saw it was empty.

  The laborer glanced at his friends. ‘I take it you haven’t heard, then.’

  ‘Heard what?’

  ‘The army garrison managed to escape to Lamara, but it’s not so easy for sailors. The Council of Five locked up the entire naval garrison while they decide what to do with them. Lord Kargan, we’ve friends and family among them. Can you do anything to help?’

  Kargan looked from face to face. There were nine men in the circle and he met the eyes of every one. When he spoke, it was with a clear voice. ‘I promise you all that I’ll free your friends,’ he said. ‘I’ll visit with the Council tomorrow.’

  Now the cheers were louder still. The workers thumped their cups on the table. Kargan glanced at Javid and saw the bodyguard’s eyes on him, appraising. He remembered Javid extracting a promise from him to be truthful at all times.

  Now it remained to be seen if he could keep his word.

  The lyceum of Koulis, where the Council of Five met to administer their city, was unlike a palace in every way. Located in the middle of the unpaved agora, it consisted of a grove of trees planted in a circle where inside, hidden from casual view, a walled structure contained five high-backed wooden chairs. A cleared pathway in the trees provided access, guarded by stern soldiers when the council was in session.

  Wearing a yellow silk robe over loose white trousers and carrying a jeweled dagger at his waist, Kargan approached the pair of guards blocking the approach. As instructed, Javid walked beside and slightly behind him.

  ‘Lord Kargan, naval commander and fleet admiral, here to see the Council of Five,’ Javid announced. Kargan grunted. He’d stumbled through the words, but at least he made it to the end.

  The older of the two soldiers spoke. ‘You must wait.’

  Kargan nodded and folded his arms over his chest, standing stoically. He concealed the hopes and fears that tumbled through his mind, reminding himself that he was a skilled leader, a man who inspired loyalty from his men. The wait dragged out, but then the soldier finally turned his head to look within. He nodded to Kargan. ‘You may enter, Lord Kargan.’

  ‘Wait here,’ Kargan said to Javid.

  The two soldiers parted, and Kargan breathed a sigh of relief when he realized they’d called him by his title. They’d also neglected to take away his jeweled dagger. The signs were subtle, but they told him that he wasn’t about to be jailed, executed, or sent back to Mydas.

  He walked along the pathway between the trees, heading in a direct line for the pavilion-like structure of stone within. Another pair of guards waited at the end of the approach, raising their barred spears to let him pass.

  He climbed the steps.

  He didn’t know who he would see waiting inside. Koulis didn’t practice the strange system of election by votes that Aristocles had described to him when he’d visited the first consul’s villa in Phalesia, but instead nominated by an opaque process a group of five noblemen from the city’s most powerful families to represent trade, defense, agriculture, water supply, and overall leadership. At any rate, despite the various maneuverings of the city’s nobility, Kargan knew there was only one man whose decision mattered most.

  And true enough, Lothar, king of Koulis in all but name, sat in a central chair larger than any other. He was famously greedy, a wrinkled old insect of a man, with fingers like claws and silver hair that matched the glossy medallion around his neck. The symbol on the medallion displayed two fish entwined: the guise of Silex as god of fortune. Koulis valued trade above all else, and Lothar epitomized that value.

  But Lothar wasn’t a king, and so when Kargan entered the center of the lyceum, facing the row of five high-backed chairs, he merely gave each man a small bow, culminating with a slightly larger bow for Lothar.

  Lothar didn’t even nod in return. He was a practical ruler, and far too busy worrying about money to be concerned with honorifics.

  ‘Kargan of Lamara,’ Lothar said without preamble. ‘What brings you here?’

  ‘I think I can help you,’ Kargan said bluntly.

  Lothar’s pale lips cracked into a slight smile. ‘As plainspoken as ever. In what way?’

  ‘You’ve declared your independence from Ilea—’

  ‘Not quite true,’ Lothar said. ‘We simply disagree with the idea of paying taxes to an empire that we don’t consider ourselves a part of.’

  ‘You considered yourselves part of it before,’ Kargan said wryly. ‘I remember Solon counting your taxes.’

  Lothar scowled. ‘We paid because it served our needs to do so. But now that Phalesia has managed to defeat the forces of the mighty Ilean Empire – in the process, killing the only king we have ever given allegiance to – it does not serve us to give tithe to a new king who murdered his way to the throne and who has never set foot in our city. Shadria is in open rebellion. We take a more peaceable approach. We wish to keep trading with Ilea. But if Ilea comes, we will respond with force, and our Galean brothers may even come to our aid.’

  ‘Well said.’ Kargan grinned. Surprised, Lothar leaned back in his seat. Kargan glanced around to look at the four other members of the council but they appeared content to watch and wait. ‘I’m not here on behalf of Mydas. In fact, I’d be happy to take his head.’

  ‘Ah,’ Lothar said, nodding in realization. ‘I take it you have had a . . . disagreement.’

  ‘You could say that. He tried to have me killed,’ Kargan said. ‘I came here for two reasons. One is that you know me, and you know that I command the loyalty of my men. The second is that, as I said, I can help you.’

  ‘Go on.’ Lothar motioned with a flick of his fingers.

  ‘You’ve imprisoned the Ilean naval garrison, men who – until very recently – kept your waters safe. I understand. If you let them take their warships back to Ilea they might return to fight you. If you release them they might cause trouble. If you kill so many men you might have an uprising on your hands.’

  ‘You state the obvious.’

  ‘Here is my proposal. I’ve commanded the sun king’s navy for many years. My men are loyal to me, and their previous ruler is dead. The new king is unloved and unproven. Give me command of the Ilean warships you have here. They’re no longer Ilea’s, they’re yours. Give me a position.’ Kargan smiled thinly. ‘I’m in need of one. I know this garrison, they’ve been here for years and most don’t intend to leave at any time. I’ll keep them in line. You can hold me to their behavior.’

  Lothar’s brow furrowed as he pondered. Taking advantage of the pause, Kargan pressed on.

  ‘I ask only one thing. When Ilea recognizes your independence, and things calm down, you promise to let the men return home, if that’s what they want. In the meantime, we’ll protect your waters from pirates.’

  ‘What prevents you from taking the men and ships back to Ilea?’

  ‘I’m the perfect commander.’ Kargan spread his hands. ‘Mydas wants me dead.’

  ‘What if there’s outright war? What if you have to fight to protect us?’

  ‘We won’t fight other Ilean ships, but we’ll fight anyone else.’

  ‘And if Ilean ships come?’ Lothar persisted.

  ‘They won’t – your harbor is too well fortified, and we lost too many at Phalesia. If Mydas comes, he’ll come by land. But you already know that.’

  For the first time, one of the other men in the circle spoke up. ‘I don’t think . . .’

  A newcomer interrupted him by climbing up
the steps and pushing past Kargan without a word. Surprised, Kargan stepped back, but then he caught sight of the elegantly dressed man with the gold ring in his hooked nose and knew that he would have been listening for the entire time, showing his face now only because he considered it important.

  His name was Mercilles and he was the richest merchant in Koulis. He was wealthier by far than Lothar or even Mydas, but preferred to direct the maneuverings of his city from behind closed doors. Kargan had never spoken with him, but he’d once seen him when he’d visited the palace in Lamara.

  Mercilles leaned forward to whisper something in Lothar’s ear. Lothar nodded and Mercilles turned away, not even meeting Kargan’s eyes as he brushed past again and descended the steps.

  ‘It appears we might have a problem for you to solve,’ Lothar said. ‘Tell me, Kargan of Lamara, have you heard of the so-called Free Men?’

  Kargan smiled. ‘I’ve heard of them. I wouldn’t have mentioned pirates if I didn’t know you had a problem.’

  Lothar’s lips thinned. ‘We will give you your ships and sailors. But we will keep one in ten men imprisoned as a bond.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Your men will be paid as they were before, and you will be paid as their commander. Also, I’m to tell you that if you bring us the head of Jax the pirate, or of one of his lieutenants, you will be paid a bonus.’

  ‘We have an agreement,’ Kargan said.

  Lothar nodded. ‘You may leave.’

  Kargan descended the steps and left the grove behind. As Javid rejoined his side, he thought about the task he’d been assigned. He despised pirates, and the Free Men were the worst of all. Their creed was what made them dangerous, for they raided slave markets and targeted the lowest classes, telling them to rise up against oppression, to join their numbers and fight against their former masters.

  ‘Well? What happened?’

  ‘I freed nine in ten,’ Kargan said. ‘And I have a new position as commander of the Ilean naval garrison. See, my friend? Moving up in the world.’