Soon, Chloe knew, they would arrive at Lamara.
They had spent the previous night beached near Koulis. Although they had never ventured into the city, remaining camped on the shore just below, she had gained an impression of white columned temples of glistening marble, and men and women wearing surprisingly Galean costumes. The palm trees and baked yellow walls had marked Koulis out as different from Chloe’s home, but when she asked Hasha about it he explained that the city once saw itself as closer to the Galean nations than those of Salesia.
The sun king had dominated Koulis for several years, however, and yellow flags flew from the towers at the corners of the walls. Kargan had sent a trading party into the city, but kept Chloe under close guard. She had watched them leave enviously, trying to remember what it felt like to be free, but she hadn’t complained when they returned hours later with fresh meat, fruit, barley, and bread.
She had crossed the Maltherean Sea, and she was now on the Salesian continent. Soon she would meet Solon, the sun king of Ilea. The thought filled her with dread.
Now, shielding her eyes as the Nexotardis headed for its home port, she saw a distant structure on a finger of land and realized it was a lighthouse. Sweeping her gaze in the opposite direction, she saw a second promontory with yet another lighthouse on its tip.
The Nexotardis passed between the two structures, miles apart from each other, and Chloe saw more ships ahead, traveling the same way: sailing skiffs and rowing galleys, merchant vessels with bulging bellies, and ramshackle fishing boats.
Another promontory divided the bay in the middle and Kargan led them to the right, following the other ships. Chloe saw that they were entering an inlet, the curling waves colliding with the rushing water of a mighty river. As they passed the central jut of land on the right, she shielded her eyes and saw a huge statue.
It was made of stone and bigger than the lighthouses she’d seen earlier. She recognized Helios the sun god, legs apart and arms at his sides, head tilted back to look up at the sky.
‘The statue marks the start of the river,’ a rumbling voice said beside her as Kargan joined her at the rail. ‘You will see the city soon enough.’
The drum thrummed below the deck, so ever-present that the sound was now at the edge of her consciousness. The Nexotardis traveled on oars alone, blades lifting out of the water, sweeping back and dipping in again with endless repetition. There were now banks at both sides, sometimes showing yellow cliffs and other times broken shores filled with boulders.
Buildings appeared on the left bank, mud-brick structures with gaping holes for windows and roofs of stick and straw. Then Chloe saw a wall. It was dusty and red, as tall as the ship’s mast and broad enough for men to walk on top. A hexagonal tower rested up against a cliff where the wall met the river, and for a time the wall hid the city within.
Glancing at the other bank, opposing the city, she decided that this was where the poorer people lived, for the huts were crude and crammed close together. Dusty streets marked out one block of huts from another, while on a hill behind she could see regularly spaced trees and fields of grain. There were no bridges; passage between the two sides of the river would be granted by ferryboat only. Every vessel on the right-hand shore was a fishing boat.
As they passed the wall, her attention turned once more to the left-hand bank and the main city.
‘Lamara,’ Kargan said. ‘Capital of the Ilean Empire.’
Structures appeared as they passed the city wall. So many buildings that Chloe struggled to comprehend them all. Lamara dwarfed Phalesia, more yellow than white, perhaps less beautiful, but . . . huge.
The city followed the bank of the river for at least a mile. A series of tiers in the very center marked out a ziggurat, and on the highest level Chloe saw a walled palace, undoubtedly the home of the sun king. The sprawling edifice crowned the city, spearing the sky with tall spires, so thin that Chloe wondered how they didn’t topple over. Like most of the buildings around, it was made of red brick, but she could see marble columns and the rust color was further broken by a multitude of yellow flags with orange suns in their centers, snapping in the breeze.
Below the palace was a confusion of two-storied residential blocks delineated by winding alleys and broad avenues. Chloe saw temples of basalt and marble statues, sprawling slums and grand villas. Palm trees clustered here and there, made ethereal by the dust.
‘Look,’ Kargan said, pointing. ‘The bazaar.’
‘Bazaar?’ Chloe frowned.
‘Market.’