‘Clear it?’ Cob snorted.
Dion smiled and then the smile fell, his forehead creasing as he devoted his attention to examining the water ahead. The narrows had always been more of a blessing than a curse, for on the other side of the passage was a clear run to the harbor of Phalesia, which meant that any enemy arriving by sea first had to pass Xanthos’s neighboring nation’s fleet. He considered the sense of security Phalesia provided a mixed blessing, however, for it gave his father, King Markos, little incentive to develop his own fleet. Boats were for fishing and trading, according to Dion’s father, and little else.
He finally let some rope drift through his fingers, barely registering the friction on his calloused hands. The sail slackened and the small boat slowed as he approached the place where only sixty feet separated the island of Coros from the mainland.
‘Be ready to turn,’ Dion instructed.
As often happened, the order was met by a muttered curse, directed at his back.
Dion peered into the water ahead, but still the narrows appeared clear. The tip of the cliff must have fallen somewhere, but now that steep rock walls rose on both sides the boat was in shadow. The wind picked up sudden strength, gusting the vessel forward and dangerously close to the place where the gap was smallest.
Then he saw it.
It was directly ahead, a huge boulder with a jagged spear for a point, completely submerged under the water, but with the knife’s edge just under the surface.
The razor-sharp rock, newly broken, was just a stone’s throw in front of the boat.
‘Turn!’ Dion cried. ‘Quickly!’
He released the rope and pushed the boom out as far as he could, a trick that used the wind to initiate the turn. Staring back with wide eyes, he saw Cob had the tiller hard around. The boat began to turn.
But still its motion continued. Six feet became five, then four. The point of the boulder disappeared under the boat as it completed the turn.
‘Pull on the sail, you fool!’ Cob cried.
Dion grabbed hold of the trailing rope on the boat’s bottom and hauled, at the same time holding the boom so that the wind would catch the sail as soon as possible.
The vessel started to move and then she was sailing away from the blocked narrows. Dion let out a breath, then grinned.
‘Well the narrows are blocked, that’s for certain,’ he said, looking back at Cob, whose square face was red. ‘No trading vessels will make it over that.’
‘Good,’ Cob grunted. ‘We can go home now.’
‘Cob . . . We had to get that close.’
‘Why is that?’
‘I needed to see the boulder for myself to see what we can do to clear it.’
‘Lad, what in the name of Silex are you talking about?’
‘We have to remove the blockage,’ Dion said seriously. He hauled the sail in to lend speed to their journey, taking them away from the narrows and back toward Xanthos. ‘It effectively blocks our trade with Phalesia.’
Although there was a direct land route between the two cities, via the pass called the Gates of Annika, the Xanthian side was rocky and mountainous and had to be crossed on foot, with horses led by the reins. Runners with messages traveled on land, for it was generally swifter. But transiting a boatload of goods that was easily moved on sea would be impossible on land.
‘You understand, don’t you? If there is something we can do, we must do it,’ Dion said.
‘What we have to do is return to your father and tell him the reports are true. Then we can talk about clearing the passage.’
‘Father is a soldier, not a sailor.’
‘Aye, lad. But he will care when the silver stops flowing.’
Dion saw the first sights of Xanthos come into view as they rounded a headland. Crumbling fishermen’s huts could be seen on the rocks back from shore, and then in the distance the city itself came into view on the vessel’s starboard side.
The sight of the approaching city lent urgency to Dion’s voice. ‘Cob, I have an idea how we can clear the narrows.’
‘How? There’s a huge boulder in the way, under the water. It will take weeks to move it. Perhaps months.’
‘There’s a quicker way. But we’ll need to enlist the help of Lord Aristocles.’
‘The first consul? Dion . . . You know your father wouldn’t approve of you making an unsanctioned visit. And what can Aristocles do?’
‘Phalesia needs the trade as much as we do. He might enlist the help of an eldran. They’re on good terms. A serpent could move that boulder.’