‘There are nations in the east still unconquered. There are tributes I await. There are places across the Maltherean Sea, places like your Phalesia.’ He suddenly looked exhausted by so much speech. ‘Enough. The gods have spoken to me. Slaves!’
Chloe frowned as she saw slaves coming forward, each carrying an item in his or her hands. She realized what the items were as they placed instruments onto a mat on the ground nearby. She saw lyres and trumpets, tambourines and citharas, with an astonishing variety of each. Some were big and some small; there were instruments displaying fine workmanship while others were ancient relics.
‘The gods have revealed a way to test your skills and your training. You listed music as one of your talents. Take your instrument and play. If the sun god is angered here, in this place, we will know.’
Chloe knew she wasn’t being given a choice. She scanned the assortment until she found a copper flute, a little larger than she was used to, but not dissimilar to her own.
‘Play,’ Solon instructed as she crouched to pick it up.
Chloe straightened, swallowed, and put the mouthpiece to her lips. She began to play.
The first notes were uncertain and Solon frowned, but then she found her rhythm. As she had done so many times before, she made herself forget about where she was, playing for herself alone. Closing her eyes, her chest rose and fell as she played a song of her own devising, moving up the scale to find the key she felt most accustomed to with the unfamiliar instrument.
Each note bled into another as she used a breathing technique she had learned at the temple to make continuous sound without interruption. Her cheeks ballooned as she used a last puff of air at the end of each breath to inhale the next, evacuating the air in her cheeks to eke out the music while she expanded her chest.
Finding her key, she moved into the ‘Ballad of Aeris’, a song about the goddess’s love for the heroic warrior Korax. When Korax died defending the Temple of Aeris in Sarsica from the ravaging of northern barbarians, Aeris tried to bring him back to life but his wounds were too dire even for the goddess. Her heartbreak was evident in the low bass while the trickling away of his blood formed a sad lilting melody of high notes.
Chloe opened her eyes as she approached the end of the ballad. She saw that Solon was watching intently, his expression thoughtful but giving nothing away. The dark clouds overhead had continued to gather, casting the pyramid in shadow.
Without halting, she continued on to the ‘Tragedy of Aleuthea’, a complex song describing the sinking of the great king Palemon’s civilization beneath the waves. It was at the limit of her skill to execute the dancing trills and low throaty rumbles. Without the words, she had to tell the story entirely with the flute, hearing the stanzas in her mind but conducting them with her instrument.
Still Solon merely watched, and now Chloe made up the melody as she went, eyes once more closed, her fingers working furiously on the flute, combining mournful low notes with bright trills, adding a repeating coda to her song and weaving it through. She slowed and then filled the air with a series of long, slow, drawn-out notes in a minor scale.
Finally she let the music fade away and opened her eyes. As she took the flute away from her lips the clouds parted and the sun shone directly through the gap, striking the glittering pyramid’s facets where one side met the next. The diagonal line formed by the meeting point flared with golden fire.
Chloe forgot all about the music as she stared in awe at the glistening gold, so bright her senses could take in nothing else.
Solon nodded. ‘The sun god has spoken. It is a good omen.’
He didn’t look at her; his eyes were on his tomb. Chloe felt suddenly drained.
‘I will give you your chance. You will be assigned a bodyguard. Each night you will be confined with the women, but you may venture into the city to get the materials you need to make your potions. You may leave.’
He made no mention of the music. Solon continued his inspection of the pyramid, frowning at the places where the stone was bare.
26
Dion had sailed through two days and two sleepless nights, determined not to return home in failure. His vision wavered as he kept the Calypso on course, trimming the sail and sending the incredible vessel leaping over every crest.
When he sighted land, he knew he had finally crossed the Maltherean Sea.
But finding Lamara was another task altogether. He knew that if he headed directly south from Athos he should strike the coast higher than the city, and should be able to travel, hugging the shore, until he came to the sun king’s capital. Yet he was worried, for he had little knowledge of what he was actually looking for.
He passed the third day scouting inlets and rocky bays, brow creased as he looked for the signs of a city. His only encouraging thought was that Lamara was reputed to be huge, and must therefore have fishing and trade vessels leaving and returning to the city in numbers. But as the day wore on and the sun passed the sky’s midpoint, beginning to fall back down to the horizon, he wondered if he’d missed Lamara altogether.