‘I want to build a trireme,’ she said. Roxana had a wistful expression that appeared out of odds with her broad face and brisk manner. ‘Like this ship, but with three rows of oars. Slightly longer, it would have to be, but with even more power and the same beam. Think about it. One hundred and eighty oars, all pulling the most deadly warship the world has ever seen.’

Dion shared her dream for a moment.

Finally, he spoke, choosing his words carefully. ‘You would be given that opportunity in Galea. In Xanthos or Phalesia.’

She grinned. ‘I thought you were from a tiny village on a tiny island with no name.’

Dion spread his hands. ‘I didn’t say it had no name. I simply said you wouldn’t know it. I’ve spent time in Galea, across the sea. You would be given a villa in Xanthos.’

‘I don’t believe you—’

‘Bahamut!’ a sailor cried.

Dion was puzzled, but Roxana returned his look calmly. ‘Sea serpent,’ she said. ‘Not as big as a leviathan, but big enough. This will be the wildran we’re chasing.’

Half the crew and all the marines on the upper deck now rushed to the rails, scanning the sea, until another sailor pointed.

Dion saw a gush of water shoot into the air half a mile ahead of the Anoraxis. A moment later a humped sea monster with glossy silver scales plunged back down into the water, revealing a long tail at the end.

Roxana left Dion’s side to take command of the ship, bellowing for the oarsmen to increase speed. The pounding drum below resounded as it increased tempo, thudding along to the rhythm of Dion’s pulse. As he clutched his bow he remembered the serpent he had killed as it wrapped its length around the sailboat off the shore of Cinder Fen. His first arrow had bounced off the leathery hide. But his second had proven true: the creatures could be killed by arrows.

It was close to noon and the sea was calm, with little wind to create waves. The island of Ibris formed a distant landmass, further impeding large seas. The regular dip and pull, lift and drop of the oars hauled the warship ever faster through the water. Despite the breezeless day a wind now gusted against Dion’s skin as he felt the thrill of the chase.

He thought again about the huge leviathan that had swallowed Cob, his old friend. In Xanthos the vessels that traded with Phalesia were at the whim of the wildren, but in Ilea, the wildren were actively hunted. It was a prospect only made possible by ships like these.

The serpent disappeared again for a time and now every man was peering into the water as well as scanning the horizon. Dion wondered if the creature would flee their approach, or would be bold enough to attack.