Golden Age (The Shifting Tides, #1)(64)

Hearing footsteps, he turned and saw a slight man with streaks of gray in his black beard exiting the guesthouse. Wearing expensive flowing garments of thick wool, Algar registered surprise when he saw Dion waiting.

‘My friend, can I be of service?’

‘No.’ Dion shook his head, giving Algar a polite smile. The guesthouse’s owner charged a premium for everything, even washing water. ‘I’m just waiting for my guide.’

Algar lowered his voice. ‘Save your coin. Please know I can arrange anything you require. For a mere two silvers—’

‘I have everything I need, but thank you,’ Dion interjected.

‘I would not trust that boy too much.’ Algar frowned. ‘He is not a bad lad, but my prices—’

Then a small figure rounded a corner and came into view. Anoush grinned as he carried a steaming wooden cup and nodded to Algar before holding it out to Dion.

‘Tea, master. For you.’

Smiling stiffly, Algar gave Dion a small bow before heading off down the street.

‘What about you?’ Dion asked Anoush.

‘I do not like tea,’ he said. ‘But try it. You will like it.’

Dion sipped at the drink and wondered who could want such a hot drink on a baking hot day. Not wanting to offend the boy, he sipped until he drank to the bottom, then when he finished he was surprised to find himself feeling refreshed.

‘See?’ Anoush looked up at him hopefully. ‘You like it?’

‘It’s good.’ Dion smiled.

‘I asked about the man Kargan for you,’ Anoush said. ‘He returned some days ago on the bireme Nexotardis. No one knew anything about a captive princess.’

Dion nodded. He hadn’t expected Chloe’s arrival to be common knowledge. ‘You have done well. Here.’ He gave Anoush three of the copper coins he’d received as change after paying for the room.

‘You have already given me silver. It is too much.’

‘Take them,’ Dion insisted.

‘Thank you, master.’ Anoush hid the coins somewhere in his trousers. ‘How can I help you today?’

Dion thought about his plan. Anoush had given him the idea. He needed time to learn about Lamara and for that he would need money. He had to find a way to learn about the sun king’s fleet, for any attack would come from the sea.

‘I want to enlist in the sun king’s service.’

‘In the army?’

‘The navy.’

Anoush pondered for a moment. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘We must go to the harbor. It is past the bazaar. Stay close to me, there will be many people in the streets. I will watch for thieves and beggars for you. Keep your money close.’




The harbor was a mile-long stretch of shore filled with beached vessels of all descriptions. It formed a natural curve in the river, within the city walls, and most of it was fenced off from the city by a long wall of vertical wooden poles.

Dion stopped for a moment, Anoush at his side, as he gained his bearings. Two soldiers guarded a gap in the fence leading to the naval section, where bireme after bireme rested side by side, so close together they were almost touching. An empty stretch of shore at the end would be where the marines practiced their skills. Past the cleared area two huge wooden vessels were under construction, covered by a confusing framework of wood. Sailors scrubbed decks and marines trained with sword and shield. Smoke rose from the corner of a long thatched structure and Dion guessed this was the mess.

Outside the fenced-off section were beached merchant ships and bare-chested men carrying sacks from various vessels to the paved area above the shore, assembling piles of goods of all description.

‘You must go in there.’ Anoush pointed to the guards standing at the gap in the fence. ‘I will not be allowed so I will wait.’

‘We can meet later,’ Dion said.

‘No, master. I will wait.’

Taking a deep breath, Dion walked down a series of steps to where the paving stones became sand and approached the two guards. Unlike the soldiers he’d seen the previous day, these men had wooden spears without iron points and carried lighter, smaller shields. They were both swarthy, with sleeveless leather cuirasses leaving muscled arms bare.

‘What’s your business?’ the guard on the left said. He had a neatly trimmed beard and curly dark hair.

‘I want to enlist,’ Dion said.

The guard nodded his head. ‘Go and see one of the captains.’

They made way and Dion entered, running his eyes over the multitude of warships and dozens of marines at training. He counted ten biremes and then made a guess at how many there were in total. Fifty . . . perhaps even sixty, he realized with wonder.

A bald man in a blue robe stood with his legs apart and arms folded over his chest as he watched two marines making stabs at each other with spears. Twenty paces away a pair of archers shot arrows at distant straw targets. Dion was relieved to see that the sun king’s captains employed bows. If he was tested for his swordsmanship, he would never be accepted.

Dion walked over to the bald man, guessing he was a captain. ‘I want to enlist.’

‘Don’t need anyone,’ he said without looking. ‘Find someone else.’

Turning away, Dion wondered who else he should approach. He shielded his eyes as he saw the shipbuilding sheds, where a stocky man stood directing some slaves.