Golden Age (The Shifting Tides, #1)

‘Anoush, I need a place to sleep. Somewhere not too expensive but close to the palace. I want a high room where I can watch the city.’


Anoush nodded enthusiastically, smiling so that little dimples formed on his round cheeks. ‘The House of Algar. Please, let me take you, master. You will have very fine views.’

Dion wondered if he could trust him. Anoush was about thirteen, and although he was skinny his clothes weren’t the ragged garments of a beggar, which meant that he was either a good thief or a resourceful guide.

‘Where are your parents, Anoush?’

‘Parents are dead, master. I am an orphan. I came to Lamara when I was six. I know the city well. I can help you with anything you require.’

Dion rubbed his chin. ‘We’ll start with lodgings and take it from there.’

‘Come.’ Anoush took Dion’s hand and started to lead him down the side street. ‘It is not a long way. Come, come.’

The House of Algar was well located within the nobles’ quarter, not far from the palace. The roofs in the area were crowded close together, each building either leaning against the next or joined together, making the alleys a maze of twisting pathways. Dion saw a three-storied terraced house with a set of cleanly swept steps leading into a dark, cool interior. It was on the same side of the palace as the city gate and he nodded approvingly; he may need to make a swift exit. There was nothing to mark it out as a guesthouse other than a representation of a man lying on his back carved into the stone near the entrance.

‘The House of Algar,’ Anoush said proudly. ‘Come.’

‘Wait,’ Dion said. He hesitated. ‘Can I trust you, Anoush?’

‘Yes, master.’ The boy nodded.

Dion unpicked the three silver coins from the rough pocket sewn on the inner hem of his tunic. He showed them to the boy. ‘Will these be accepted here?’

Anoush frowned. ‘Strange coins.’ He held out his hand. Dion placed a Phalesian silver coin into his palm. The boy bit onto it and examined the imprint of an eagle pressed into one side to demonstrate that the coin was solid. ‘Good silver, though. Algar will accept them, but if he says he will not I can change them at the bazaar.’

‘How much should I pay for the room?’

‘Algar will ask for one of these silver coins, for one week’s lodging.’

Dion smiled. ‘But how much should I pay him?’

‘Less than that.’ Anoush grinned.

He finally made a decision. ‘Anoush’—he put out his hand—‘the first of these coins is yours. I want you to be my guide. I need my money changed and I need fresh clothing and a razor.’ After giving the boy the coin, he indicated the composite bow poking out of his satchel. ‘I also need to visit a bowyer. Can you help me with all that?’

‘Of course!’ Anoush beamed. ‘I am the best guide in all of Lamara.’ He looked down at the weapon and then up at Dion. ‘Are you a warrior, master?’

Dion hesitated. ‘Yes,’ he finally said. ‘I am a warrior.’

‘Are you here to find work in the sun king’s army?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Where are you from?’

Dion scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘From one of the islands in the Maltherean Sea.’

‘Which one? Ibris? Amphi? Tarlana?’

‘No,’ Dion said. ‘Further than that.’

Anoush shrugged. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘I will now take you to the bazaar. We will return to the House of Algar after.’

As Dion followed his new guide, he pondered the palace and the first consul’s daughter, and wondered what his next move should be.





27


It was morning, rising heat filling the narrow alley as Dion waited in front of the House of Algar. He now wore clean clothing: strange brown trousers and a white tunic to his knees, the garb of Ilea. He had a quiver over his shoulder with a dozen sharp arrows inside, and the bow in his hand had been serviced the previous day. Anoush had proven his usefulness.

Hearing footsteps, he turned and saw a slight man with streaks of gray in his black beard exiting the guesthouse. Wearing expensive flowing garments of thick wool, Algar registered surprise when he saw Dion waiting.

‘My friend, can I be of service?’

‘No.’ Dion shook his head, giving Algar a polite smile. The guesthouse’s owner charged a premium for everything, even washing water. ‘I’m just waiting for my guide.’

Algar lowered his voice. ‘Save your coin. Please know I can arrange anything you require. For a mere two silvers—’

‘I have everything I need, but thank you,’ Dion interjected.

‘I would not trust that boy too much.’ Algar frowned. ‘He is not a bad lad, but my prices—’

Then a small figure rounded a corner and came into view. Anoush grinned as he carried a steaming wooden cup and nodded to Algar before holding it out to Dion.

‘Tea, master. For you.’

Smiling stiffly, Algar gave Dion a small bow before heading off down the street.

‘What about you?’ Dion asked Anoush.