Golden Age (The Shifting Tides, #1)(85)

‘How did she react?’

‘I do not think she understood. I only had a short time to speak before the big guard with her knocked me away . . . But I am sure she heard me. She was confused, I think.’

Dion cursed as he looked away. If she knew he was here and that help might be coming, the knowledge could make his task easier.

‘But there is more.’

Dion’s eyes shot once more to the young boy. ‘What?’

‘She regularly goes to the abandoned arena in the poor quarter. She is probably there right now.’

‘Alone?’

‘No, the guard goes with her.’

‘What is she doing there?’

‘I did not follow them inside. I only saw that they came out again some time later.’

Dion’s heart started to race. He had learned about Ilea and about the size of the sun king’s navy. He had learned a great deal about the capabilities of ships like the Anoraxis and something about the way they were built. Chloe would have spent time with the sun king himself, and would know his mind.

All Dion needed to do now was to free Chloe and escape. The only obstacle in his way was her warden.

Dion’s bow was in his hand and a quiver was on his shoulder. He spoke to Anoush with urgency. ‘The abandoned arena. Take me there now.’




Dion crept along the wide passage, keeping to the shadows as he felt the weight of stone above his head, under foot, and in the walls on both sides. He saw bright light through a tall rectangular exit ahead and slowed his pace even further, placing one foot down before moving the next, anxious to move as silently and unobtrusively as possible.

Behind him Anoush hung back, fearful and hesitant. Now that he had led Dion this far, Dion waved the boy to stay in the corridor. He didn’t want him getting involved in any conflict.

Dion took three more steps and then stopped just before the exit, where clouds of dust swirled in the bright rays of sunshine. He knew that as soon as he stepped forward once more the sunlight would blind him. He stopped and listened.

He heard voices, one male and one female.

Blood throbbed in his temples; he felt the tempo of his pulse increase, reminding him of the galloping rhythm of the Anoraxis at ramming speed. He heard the gruff notes of the guard’s deep voice and the higher pitch of Chloe’s replies. They sounded far enough away that he felt confident of exiting the passage.

He dropped to a crouch and squinted as he left the corridor. Dion saw that there was a wall in front of him and a set of steps heading up to the side. Keeping in the shadow of the wall he climbed the steps and peered around the corner.

Dion was halfway up the tiered gallery of a structure in the shape of a wheel. It reminded him of the lyceum in Phalesia, but the proportions were far greater than even that huge structure. There were seats doubling as steps that all faced a circular space in the center.

He saw two figures standing close together in the middle of the arena’s sandy central floor.

The huge guard – tall and muscled, wearing a leather vest and brown trousers – stood at an angle with Dion looking mostly at his back. Near him and with her face visible in profile was Chloe.

His breath caught as he saw that she held a sword, pointed at the guard, who was unarmed. It appeared that Dion had timed his arrival perfectly; he couldn’t have come a moment too soon. Chloe was making her own bid for freedom.

Dion left his hiding place. He was now exposed in bright daylight but Chloe’s attention was entirely on the bodyguard. Dion pulled an arrow out of his quiver and nocked it to the string of his bow. Knowing that a fast-moving shape draws the eye, he fought to keep his breathing deep and even, fighting the power of fear to remain steady as he descended, creeping down first one step and then another. He kept his eyes on his enemy the entire time. If he could kill this man his quest would be accomplished.

Dion circled around as he lost height, moving so that he would approach the tall warrior directly from behind. Chloe kept the tip of the sword pointed at her opponent as she said something to him; her attention was on anything but the gallery above.

Glancing back the way he’d come, Dion saw Anoush standing near the exit corridor, watching him with wide eyes. He made another wave to tell him to stay back.

He would need to make a good strike, firmly between the warrior’s shoulder blades. Dion narrowed the distance to forty paces, and then thirty. He was now on level ground, standing in a gap in the decrepit wooden fence, with no obstruction between him and his target.

He lifted his bow. He drew the string to his ear and stilled his breathing.

He fixed his gaze on the big warrior’s shoulders.

Dion prayed for a solid strike as he let the arrow fly.




‘Keep the point always on your enemy,’ Tomarys said. ‘Think of the tip as a shield as well as a weapon, as long as you have the sharp end between the two of you, you are defending yourself. Angle it slightly higher, you do not want the sword to be horizontal.’

Chloe complied, but the sword was heavier than it looked. Holding the hilt with both hands, she lifted the point.

‘Good,’ Tomarys said. ‘Now take a single step forward, leading with your front foot. Angle your body to the side so you are presenting a smaller target.’

Chloe followed his instructions and brought the sword closer to her opponent’s chest.

‘Now attack!’ Tomarys said.