Then he saw a ship.
It was a distant merchant vessel, with a fat belly and wide beam, but he could tell from the set of the sails which way it was heading, and he followed the same course. Keeping a wide distance between them, he skirted the rust-colored coastline until the merchantman turned to head toward shore.
A wide bay opened up ahead, and when he saw a tall lighthouse at the extreme end of a promontory he felt his hopes rise. At the opposite end of the bay another lighthouse marked a safe passage between the two and now he saw more ships, all heading in the same direction.
He spurred the Calypso forward, getting every bit of speed from her that he could. Overtaking the merchant ship, he saw that the other vessels were all heading into a wide inlet. A gigantic stone statue appeared on the left bank and Dion recognized the sun god.
His spirits soared. He had come to the right place.
He now saw galleys and fishing boats, dozens of vessels returning to safe harbor before the day’s end. Heading into a wide brown river, he passed tiny coves and the occasional shack. A huge wall rose ahead, the longest and tallest he had ever seen. He stood up in the boat, holding onto the mast as he peered at it, though the city behind was mostly hidden behind.
Dion decided not to venture closer; he would hide the boat outside the city.
He worried about the danger underneath the Calypso as he turned into shore and scouted an inlet, before changing his mind and deciding the place wasn’t hidden enough. A second cove was worse still, rocks poking up from the water making the peril clear. Finally he found a little bay, curving in on itself, a mile or so from the high city wall. Scraggly bushes grew along the sides of a little stream with steep banks on both sides, a place he knew he would be able to hide his boat.
He dropped the sail and allowed the Calypso to gently coast to the rocky bank. Moments later he was out of the boat and pulling the vessel into the stream, shoving the bushes aside. He fetched his bow – the string was ruined, but the bow might still be serviceable – and a satchel with supplies. Placing them on the bank, he then resumed his work to conceal the painted hull, not content until the Calypso was well hidden in the cleft where a casual observer wouldn’t notice her. He would be leaving the same way he came.
With his bow in the satchel, he climbed out from the bay until he was on open ground high above the river, looking at the indomitable city wall, with hexagonal towers at regular intervals along its length.
He reminded himself of his quest. He needed to learn what he could about this land, about its ruler, warships, and army. He had to find and rescue the first consul’s daughter.
Back in Xanthos, Nikolas would be building up the army. His father, King Markos of Xanthos, would be trying to arrange a military alliance with Phalesia. Taking Chloe made clear the sun king’s hostile intentions. He desired the Ark of Revelation. He was a war king, a ruler of conquest. He would return.
Back in Phalesia, the Assembly would be preparing to appease the sun king, which would only prove their weakness. Aristocles would be aware that his daughter’s life hung in the balance, even as he tried to convince his people to prepare for war.
Dion started walking toward Lamara. On the way, he began to think how he might gain entry through the city gates.
In the end, nothing could have been easier.
He simply reached a dusty road, joining throngs of people of all description, and walked through Lamara’s wide gates.
He had seen the ziggurat as he approached and marveled at the walled palace on the highest tier, evidently the residence of the sun king. A triangular peak in the distance, on the far side of the city near the river, filled him with bemusement as to its purpose. The massive city walls went on and on, yellow and ancient. Initially concerned, as his gaze took in the crowd entering through the gates, he realized what a cosmopolitan city he was walking into, the bustling heart of an empire.
Aware that he was staring at everything around him, Dion lowered his gaze and tried to walk with purpose as he followed the crowd onto a wide boulevard with two-storied brick houses on both sides. When the road forked he took the left fork, though he had no idea where it led. The crowd now thinned and he rubbed his chin as he stopped in his tracks.
‘Lodgings?’ a piping voice called from nearby.
He ignored the query as he tried to formulate a plan. Something tugged on the sleeve of his tunic and, glancing to the side, he saw a small boy looking up at him, grinning hopefully.
‘Lodgings?’ the boy said again.
He had a round face and eager smile – a small urchin with a snub nose and dazzlingly bright white teeth. He wore loose, dirty trousers and a tight vest. His brown eyes sparkled from underneath tousled strands of black hair.
‘You need a place to sleep? You want something from the bazaar?’