Siege of Tarr-Hostigos k-4

by John F. Carr

  "I was planning to go by way of Syriphlon and from there down through the Pirsystros Valley and into Hos-Ktemnos. From there we were going to take a ship to Hos-Bletha."

  The Captain-General shook his head. Skranga bit down on his displeasure at being corrected by a man half his age.

  "Why not?"

  "Soton is hiring every mercenary in Hos-Harphax and Hos-Ktemnos. Do you really believe his agents are going to let two companies of experienced mercenaries, who can't even account for their whereabouts for the past two years, slip through their fingers? You will be up in irons before the moon is up. If you're lucky they'll hang you, if not you'll be up before Roxthar's Investigation."

  Skranga paled. There were few things he feared at this point in his long and thoroughly lived life-being Investigated by Roxthar's thugs was one of them. "What do you suggest, Captain-General?"

  "First, your men need a disguise, and so do you. And a good one at that, something unexpected, yet commonplace. An alias, too. I've got it! You can be Highpriest Sangar from somewhere in Hos-Bletha, the farther distant the better, and your men will be a Temple Band of Styphon's Own Guard."

  "You mean disguise ourselves as a Band of Styphon's Red Hand! By Galzar, I love it. Who is going to dare question the presence of a Temple Band with a Highpriest escort?"

  "Down south, maybe. But if you take your Band up north through Nostor and the Kratiphlon Pass into Hos-Agrys, you should be home safe. Once in Agrys City, you can probably find a ship to take you down to Hos-Bletha, even this late in the year. That is, if you have enough gold."

  Skranga smiled. Besides two score of ingots that had once decorated the roof of Styphon's Temple in Phaxos town, he had his own not inconsiderable fortune. "We are adequately financed. I also have two gunsmiths and six fireseed makers."

  Hestophes nodded. "It is true that our Great King sets his sights far into the distance. I am surprised Kalvan let two gunsmiths leave now, though."

  "After what he did this summer, we have more riflesmiths than even we need."

  "I hadn't heard about his latest dealing with the Gunsmiths Guild. What happened?"

  "When they wouldn't increase their production of rifles, King Kalvan started selling smooth bores from the Royal Armory. He sold them for half of what it cost the gunsmiths to make a musket stock! Whoa, were they unhappy. Then he told them that he would buy all the rifles they could make, but, if they still continued to defy him, he'd give away every arquebus and musket in the Armory! By Yirtta's Dugs, did that put a fire under their arses!"

  Hestophes laughed at the idea of such an incongruous sight. "Maybe it is possible that our Great King will pull off another of his miracles and vanquish Styphon's Great Host. I'm just glad I'm on his side."

  Skranga's own opinion was that nobody should be required to make miracles on demand, because it was human nature that demand for more would quickly outstrip any and all abilities…

  "Now, you're going to need the proper uniforms," Hestophes said.

  "That's right. The Red Hand dresses in silvered armor and fancy red capes. Do you have anything in the armory at Tarr-Locra we can use?"

  "Yes. We have a lot of the armor scavenged from the Battle of Chothros Heights and a room full of Guardsman armor-that is, what hasn't been stolen by the castle staff. I'll see what we have left. You can use some of the other armor. As I recall, your Blethan mercenaries don't believe in armor heavier than boiled leather."

  "A few have seen the error of their ways, but you are right. What about capes and breeches?"

  "We have lots of seamstresses in Locra Town. If we put a few score of them to work, we should have results. Especially since you have coin enough to limber their fingers. We also need to have them sew you a yellow Highpriest's vestments. I've got a woman here in Tarr-Locra that can do that in secret and keep her mouth shut. We don't want people thinking we've taken up wearing Styphoni robes!"

  Skranga nodded, then finished off the last of the brandy. Yes, there was no doubt about it; the resourceful young Captain-General was going to go a long way under Great King Kalvan.

  "You're also going to need more men if you're going to pass yourselves off as a Temple Band. Most Styphoni units are under-strength, but not so bad as yours will be. I've got about fifty Blethan mercenaries here, almost all who would jump at a chance to go home. Just one thing."

  "What's that?" he asked.

  "If I end up facing any of them next spring, Duke, I'm going to personally come after you with gelding shears."

  Skranga gulped and tried not to squirm. "It won't happen, Hestophes. Galzar's Oath."

  "Good. By Dralm, we've finished off the brandy. Let me call one of my servants and have him bring a barrel of winter wine."

  "Yes, by all means. It's been a long and dusty ride."

  TWELVE

  That was delicious!" Verkan said as he pushed away from the table. He looked down at his mostly empty plate of turkey, bread stuffing, baked potatoes, and succotash and groaned. "I don't think I can eat another thing…"

  Dalla agreed.

  "I'm sorry, but you're going to have some of Kalvan's pumpkin pie," Rylla said. "Kalvan made it himself this morning in your honor, and just about drove our cook into a frenzy."

  "Where am I going to find the room?" Dalla implored.

  "Use your saddlebags if you have to," Verkan whispered sotto voce.

  "None of that!" Kalvan said with a laugh, as he came back into the small dining room. "Now, I'm going to have to watch both of you eat. It took me all morning to figure out how to make this pie from scratch, and it's not going to go to waste! The barley crust is more of a shell than a pastry, but it's not bad."

  Just then one of the serving wenches brought out a steaming pie.

  "Smells good!" Verkan said. "Where'd you learn to make these?"

  "In a place far, far away."

  "It's all part of what Kalvan calls a proper Thanksgiving Dinner," Rylla said.

  "It's probably a bit early for Thanksgiving where I come from, but having our two favorite friends returned to us seems to call for something special. So let's have a toast! To Verkan, to Rylla, and to good friends and good food everywhere!"

  After everyone had finished their drinks, Rylla ordered their goblets refilled and made another toast. "Praise be to Dralm, we have our heads, our home, and our good friends Verkan, Dalla and Tortha to share this feast with us!"

  Verkan was glad he had remembered to take his alcodote pill before dinner. Ermut's Best was of high proof indeed!

  Tortha Karf looked half stewed, but he was retired and could afford to enjoy himself. He was attacking the pumpkin pie with real gusto. Verkan, whether or not on leave, was still Chief.

  "Great pie," Dalla said. "Kalvan, you'll have to give me the recipe. Rylla, is there anything this man can't do?"

  "Other than nursing little Demia, there's not much I can think of right now."

  Kalvan blushed to the roots of his beard, and they all laughed.

  Another round was poured, and Verkan took the last bite of his pie. Time to light up a pipe. Times were few and far between when the Chief of Paracops could relax as comfortably and as thoroughly as this. I'm going to miss this next year. A sense of impending doom had been settling around him like a fog. He finished tamping down his tobacco, lit his pipe with the gold-and-pearl inlayed tinderbox Dalla had given him for his first anniversary as Paratime Police Chief, drew deeply, and let loose a great cloud of smoke.

  "I see it's time for us to leave," Dalla said, pulling back her chair.

  "What! And let them have all the fun?" Rylla asked.

  "What fun, Rylla? All they'll do is talk politics and war and get stinking drunk. Let's go to the nursery, play with baby Demia, and then we'll talk politics and war and get properly drunk."

  "Let's go!"

  While the servants removed the plates and unwanted food, Verkan sorted through his thoughts. It was nice to see Kalvan and Rylla getting along again. From what he'd been reading in the dispat
ches from the University team, he'd half expected them to be using the dinner knives on each other instead of the turkey! In many ways the two of them were a lot like him and Dalla-they both knew how to fight good and make up well.

  He wished he could give Kalvan more information about the Great Host and how fast it was growing, but he couldn't tell him very much without giving away more about his intelligence gathering than he dared to reveal before a man half as sharp as Kalvan. No, he'd just have to keep this to himself. With this gang Kalvan was going to be both out-manned and out-gunned by a factor of two. And Kalvan didn't even know it yet!

  Not that telling him would do much good, as Tortha had reminded him earlier, not with both Verkan's hands tied as far as help was concerned. Curse and blast all the Paratime Code Regulations that tied a Chief's hands and let his opposition run loose!

  "Anything wrong, Verkan? You're awfully quiet."

  "Yes," Tortha added. "You have to learn to leave your worries at home."

  He gave Tortha a sharp look. Since when had his ex-boss ever left his troubles at home during his tenure as Paratime Chief? "Just digesting this great meal. Kalvan, you really can cook. It's a good thing you don't have a trader's life. If Dalla knew that I could cook, I'd never have any peace!"

  Kalvan laughed. "There's something to be said in favor of kingship. Although it's not going to be so much fun come this spring."

  "Yes, I hear that Hos-Harphax is preparing a counter-strike."

  "King Lysandros has moved more decisively than I had anticipated. I see the Inner Circle of Styphon's House and their bottomless moneybox somewhere behind all this. Good thing I hired most of the mercenaries in the Seven Kingdoms before Lysandros and Phidestros learned what I was up to. It looks like I'm going to have to defeat the Harphaxi again. Only this time I'm going to chase them all the way to Harphax City and from there to Hadron's Hall! We're never going to get any peace around here until I do."

  "To peace and Styphon's fall!" Tortha toasted, almost dropping his goblet.

  After they all had emptied their goblets and gotten them re-filled, Verkan said, "I hear you've been a bit busy, since our meeting."

  "I'm still trying to convince the Royal pikemen that an arquebus with a bayonet is superior to any polearm. I made some progress in the last campaign in the Sastragath, but the worst of the hardheads say that was a fight against poorly armed nomads and tribesmen: so it doesn't count! If we didn't have this campaign against Hos-Harphax coming up next spring, I'd fire half the army and start all over again with recruits. I told you both about my Janissaries; they are the future. It's like the old saying goes, 'You buy a man, he owns you; you raise a boy, you own the man.'"

  Tortha laughed as he watched Kalvan and Verkan's heads bob in agreement. He rose up. "I can tell the two of you have never raised any children-Ha!"

  "You should talk, Tortha. How many children have you sired?"

  Tortha sank back in his chair and took another drink. "Well, I've had a lot of nieces and nephews."

  "There you have it," Verkan said. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Tortha drunk; the last thing he wanted to see was his mentor become emotional. "Not to change the subject, but Kalvan, what have you heard from Great King Nestros?"

  "We've exchanged ambassadors and he's asked for more firearms and gunsmiths."

  "So far, it sounds like an awfully one-sided arrangement."

  Kalvan frowned. He set down his goblet and began to fill the bowl of his pipe. "So far it has been. Nestros keeps coming up with excuses not to commit any troops for our campaign this spring. His excuses are beginning to sound like those of the League of Dralm."

  "If the Zarthani Knights were moving into the Trygath again, he would be begging you for help."

  "I know and I'd probably give it to him, but not because of any affection. We are the only Kingdom that recognizes his title which I thought would bind him to us as a natural ally."

  "The flip side of that argument," Verkan pointed out, "is Nestros could say that 'Hos-Hostigos would have to be a good ally since my Great Kingdom is the only political body who recognizes Hos-Hostigos as a Great Kingdom!'"

  Kalvan shook his head. "I'm sending a delegation under Prince Ptosphes to Hos-Rathon to negotiate with Nestros in person. Maybe he will be more cooperative after he talks with Ptosphes and Harmakros."

  "I hope so. Nestros has got to know that Styphon's House would be building an army right now to put Nestros out of business, if Hos-Hostigos weren't their top priority. I know how disappointed you are with the lack of support from the League of Dralm, and now Great King Nestros. With some military support, they could make your job much easier."

  Kalvan set his drink down and shook his right fist. "To Regwarn with the lot of them! After We clean up this Styphon's House racket, We're going to set some of my neighbors' houses in order as well."

  "I often times feel that way about the Greffan Council of Merchants. They're not very happy right now about my virtual monopoly on trade with Hos-Hostigos."

  "Then let them travel out here and meet with our merchants. I have no quarrel with them. But that brings me to a question I wanted to ask. What does King Theovacar think about this new Great Kingdom of Hos-Rathon that is practically in his backyard?"

  "First, you have to keep in mind that King Theovacar doesn't like Great Kings just on principle-the principle being that they can get away with calling themselves 'Great Kings,' a feat his nobles would never let him do. I haven't talked to him about Hos-Rathon, but the word is that he is not unhappy with the arrangement. Prince Varrack of Thagnor is a lot closer to Hos-Rathon and will have to curb his Grefftscharrer ambitions now that he has a new threat in the south. It appears that Prince Varrack's misadventure against the Ros-Zarthani mercenaries neither taught him caution nor slaked his lust for power. In his mind, he lays his loss to the barbarians at Theovacar's feet because the Great King would not come to his aid!

  "As long as Great King Nestros doesn't lay claim to any Grefftscharrer territories, which he hasn't done so far, I don't believe there will be any problems coming from King Theovacar."

  Kalvan sighed. "There are a few morsels there like Yreth and Ragnar that Nestros would like to devour, but I told him he'd lose my support if he ever threatened their sovereignty."

  "Theovacar would like to hear that. I'll see to it that word of this reaches his ears."

  "Thanks, Verkan. I don't need any new troubles on my back porch."

  "Think nothing of it. I only wish there was more I could do to help until spring arrives. Business is going to keep me in Greffa most of the winter. I'm beginning to think the Mounted Rifles won't even recognize their old commander by the time I return!"

  Kalvan laughed. "Colonel Ranthar did his best to keep the 'legend' alive before he left for Hos-Bletha. Which reminds me, Baron, it's time I raised your rank from Colonel Verkan to General Verkan. I'll have Captain Mykos record it in the muster roll."

  "You are too generous, Your Majesty!"

  Kalvan made a waving motion with his hands. "No, the Mounted Rifles are a lot bigger these days-a full brigade, not a pumped-up regiment. A lot more rifles, too-almost five hundred. You'll have three regiments under your command, two rifle regiments, the First and Second Mounted Rifles and the Hostigos Mounted Arquebusiers. Your brigade will be the hammer of the Army of Hos-Hostigos."

  "Congratulations, Verkan!" Tortha said. "If I were a few years younger, I'd join up with the Royal Army myself."

  Kalvan smiled. "You're too valuable in intelligence, Tortha. Especially with my favorite horse-thief, Duke Skranga, off to Hos-Bletha. I need you to run the department."

  Kalvan turned to Verkan. "Did you know Trader Tortha was a genius in administration?"

  "The family has a lot of names for Uncle Tortha, but genius is not one of them!"

  Everyone laughed, even Tortha who was turning bright red-and not all from drink.

  "In fact, it's time to give Tortha an official rank. Klestreus has been complaining ab
out bringing an 'outsider' into the ranks."

  "I'd prefer not to have a title, Your Majesty. As I recall Duke Skranga never had an official rank."

  "True, he claimed it would bring him undue attention, and make it difficult, if not impossible, for undercover work."

  "A military title might not go over well with the family, after I return to Xiphlon."

  "We'll make you the Director of Internal Security: how's that, Tortha?"

  "I like it; how about you, Verkan?"

  Verkan picked up his pipe and began to fill it with tobacco. "I can't see anyone in my wing of the family having any problems."

  "Good," Kalvan said. "Problem solved. Now, Verkan, do you have any more guard commanders of the caliber of Colonel Ranthar? I could use ten or twenty more."

  "Sorry, Your Majesty, but I'm having trouble coming up with a new Foundry watchdog. You've stolen my best officer and sent him to Hos-Bletha!"

  "I agree. Let's just hope that he and Skranga can perform a miracle and convince Great King Niclophon to pull his forces out of the Great Host."

  "Hear, hear," Verkan said, filling their goblets with more of Ermut's Best. "By the way, I can think of one good officer, Captain Porthos. I ran into him at one of your watch stations. I'd use him myself, but he's left the Mounted Rifles for your Horseguard." Verkan paused to shake his head. "As soon as I train them, Your Majesty takes them away. Still, I think Porthos will make a good regimental commander. He's cool under fire and has a good grasp of 'New Model' tactics."

  "That's what I like to hear. How old is Porthos?"

  "Probably twenty-four, twenty-five winters."

  "Good age. Much older and they're mired in the traditional ways of soldiering. I'll have Harmakros interview him for a command position. I've already got more titled nitwits in leadership positions than I can afford. Unfortunately, I won't keep the loyalty of my vassals if I don't give them ranks commensurate with their station. I've scared off the really incompetent with hard work and border duty. Now I need to salt them with good commanders who can keep their head under fire and understand the difference between tactics and strategy."