by John F. Carr
"From the day we reached Rathon City, we observed that Nestros was avoiding us with delay after delay. In our talks he was distracted and making unrealistic demands, such as Hostigos sending him a flying battery and a hundred rifles with gunsmiths."
Kalvan whistled and then lit his pipe. "He must have known those requests would never have been granted."
"Exactly. Then a big delegation from Balph arrived, headed by Speaker Anaxthenes and the Commander of Styphon's Own Guard."
"Ouch! Nestros must have been waiting for them. Maybe he was planning to play both sides off each other?"
Phrames nodded. "We were in Rathon City almost a moon-quarter and Nestros wouldn't grant us even a perfunctory audience-until after the Styphoni arrived. At the meeting Nestros was very distant and it was apparent he'd already made his decision to ally himself with Styphon's House. At a later meeting, when Chartiphon accused him of being dishonorable,
Nestros blew up and told us that it was only because of his honor that we weren't already in chains being marched to Balph. He then stated that our alliance with his enemy Sargos had freed him from any obligations to either Hos-Hostigos or Your Majesty. We were then ordered to leave Rathon at all haste."
Kalvan shook his head; this was completely unexpected. Nestros had sold out to Styphon's House for something-but what? "Do you have any idea why Nestros is allying himself with our enemies?"
"Prince Bosphro of Distros, a man who fought alongside Your Majesty, gave us some information. It appears that Styphon's House has bought Nestros' loyalty with the promise that he will be recognized as Great King by all the legitimate Kingdoms. Prince Bosphro claims that the Archpriests have promised Nestros military aid in his war against the Sastragath as well as an alliance with Hos-Ktemnos, which Nestros believes will give Hos-Rathon true legitimacy as the Sixth Great Kingdom. That's what he's telling his Princes."
Kalvan made a bitter laugh. "Until Styphon's House doesn't need him any longer. Will we now be facing Rathoni troops in the spring?"
"No, Nestros told Ptosphes, as long as we recognized his territory and made no claims upon Hos-Rathon, he will continue to remain neutral in the Fireseed War."
"The silly bugger! If anything happens to Hostigos, the Styphoni will dismember Hos-Rathon, enslave his people and eat him alive."
"True, Your Majesty. Roxthar will feast upon his corpse. The stink of his betrayal will reach the very Throne of Dralm!"
II
As Anaxthenes entered the ornate private chamber of Styphon's Voice On Earth, his eyes traveled over the room's decor: fine paintings, with depictions of Styphon throughout the centuries by the Five Kingdoms' greatest artists; elegant wall hangings; the wall-sized Fireseed Tapestry, displaying the struggle between the fiend Dralm and Styphon, as he struggled to steal the Fireseed Mystery from the Palace of the Gods on Mt. Vynarth after the Trickster had stolen it from Ormaz's Pit; and thirty-six cast gold images of Styphon, each with upraised hand to hold a candlestick. One day soon this will all be mine, he thought.
Sesklos had not regained his full health since ingesting small portions of Thessamona's poison throughout summer and fall, and Anaxthenes was the first visitor to enter this chamber in over six moons. Other Archpriests had attempted to visit Sesklos since his recovery, especially Dracar, but all audiences had been refused. He wondered if Sesklos had figured out that he'd stopped the poison not out of loyalty, but because the timing was not right.
Sesklos, wearing the red robe of primacy, was sprawled on a large purple velvet divan. His bald head peeped out of his robe like a dead turtle's skull stretching out of its shell. Sesklos lifted a frail hand and waved him to sit down upon an ornately carved highback chair.
"Speaker, your poison has not yet killed me, as you can see."
Anaxthenes sat still as a stone. "I do not know where you get such ideas, but-"
"Do not attempt to cover your deeds with lies. You have used your little vials too many times at my bequest. Make no denials. Just be careful that you do not put any of your other mistresses above the Lady of Death who shares your chamber. For who knows where her fang may strike next…"
Sesklos pointed his skeletal finger at his face. "Next time make sure the poison works. I am tired of this life and all its travails. Archpriest Roxthar sent me a missive from Harphax City reminding me to appoint Dracar as my successor."
So Roxthar is already in Harphax City. Since his leaving, the City of Balph had let out its collective breath and a celebratory air had blown through the City. The Investigator is mistaken if he believes all of Balph will jump at his commands while he is in Hos-Harphax.
"After my most recent illness, death holds few terrors for me. Of course, I will do no such thing-I'd as soon appoint Roxthar my successor, as Dracar. Don't look so anxious, old son. After all, everything you know, you learned at my knee. One does not blame the panther for its sharp claws. Don't interrupt-let an old man have his last words. I have made many mistakes in my long life, but entrusting the fate of Styphon's House into your stewardship was not one of them."
Anaxthenes forced himself to contain his glee and put on a solemn face.
Sesklos lifted up from the divan. "Don't waste your pity or guilt on this old man. I have committed many sins in the name of Styphon because of my own ambition and lust for power-too many to judge anyone else. But during my reign, Styphon's House flourished and grew prosperous, and made its first real advances into the Northern Kingdoms. We now have our own Great King in Hos-Harphax. This is my legacy. I had always thought when I died, all would pass with me. But I know now that I was wrong.
"A vision came to me while I was ill: an image of a great black raven, with a man in its beak, which flew around Balph. I was that man, but the black bird did not hurt me. Instead it cradled me in its beak and flew over hill and valley until it came to a great Temple, mightier than Styphon's Own Temple in Balph. I watched as a great army descended upon this fortress and shot all manner of big guns at its walls. Still, despite all their efforts, the walls of the Temple held. Finally, the Temple door was opened and hundreds of white rats scurried out of the Temple. The army chased after the rats, stabbing and clubbing them until they were all dead. I know this was Styphon's Own Message to me that Roxthar and his Investigators will be driven from Styphon's House!"
No, thought Anaxthenes, not another true believer!
"Now more than ever, I know the Temple will not share my fate. Save it, Anaxthenes, save Styphon's Own House from Kalvan and from Roxthar. That is my last request." Then the old man fell back down on the divan, panting.
Tears began to leak from Anaxthenes' eyes.
"Ahh, real emotion. There is still flesh inside that heart of stone. I have made the right decision."
Anaxthenes tried to keep the smile, which followed those words, from cracking his lips. Little did the old man know but those were but tears of relief upon learning Sesklos was not going to denounce him to the Inner Circle for attempted murder. And, possibly, from relief that he did not have to strangle the old lizard inside Styphon's Inner Sanctum-after all, he would be living there soon, after the anterooms were rebuilt and expanded.
It would have been difficult to explain Sesklos' death, even with the Investigator absent from the Holy City. Now, if the old man would only die before Roxthar returned from the campaign against Hostigos… Well, if he didn't-
III
Phidestros stood up carefully from his worktable, which was chin-high in requisitions and muster lists, to greet Great King Lysandros and his party. He was spending more time scheduling wagon trains of provisions and fire-seed than he was working out strategy for the coming spring campaign. The last thing he needed was to answer more of Lysandros' interminable questions. Lately, he'd been asking why King Demistophon was refusing to join the Grand Host in the war against the Usurper. Lysandros' greatest fear was that King Demistophon was planning a sneak attack on his vassals while the Harphaxi Army was in Hostigos: it would be just like the cowardly swine!
As long
as Lysandros didn't ask him to leave half the Royal Army behind, Phidestros didn't care what either of the Great Kings did. Once the Grand Host defeated Hos-Hostigos, they could easily make hash out of Hos-Agrys, if the sausage who called himself King Demistophon was that stupid.
Lysandros was accompanied by two gray-bearded men with obvious military bearing. Is one of these graybeards my replacement? he thought. Did I say something I shouldn't last night? He thought back to the previous night, the formal celebration of his swift victory and duel with Prince Eltar. It had been well over a moon since his return to Harphax City and there had been rumors in the taverns and wineshops about the long-delayed victory celebration, saying that all was not well between him and the king.
No, he had not done anything obvious to incur Lysandros' displeasure. Unless being given cheers by the King's Lifeguard were grounds for dismissal-?"
He bowed deeply and then Lysandros introduced the other two members of his party. The one with protruding teeth was the newly arrived Lord High Marshal Zythannes, the new commander of the Royal Army of Hos-Ktemnos, The previous one, Leonnestros, had died at Phyrax Field.
The second was Captain-General Anaphon, a broad man with a stubborn tilt to his jaw, who smoked a corncob pipe. Anaphon was a distinguished former Harphaxi mercenary general who had fought in scores of battles but never against Kalvan.
"Captain-General Anaphon is the new commander of the Royal Army of Hos-Harphax and your second in command," King Lysandros said.
"A pleasure to meet you at last, Grand Captain-General."
It was an uncomfortable situation for both of them and Phidestros was pleased that Anaphon was wise enough to know that it wouldn't better his standing to snub his superior commander before the king. It was obvious that Lysandros was not taking any chances regarding the future of his new Kingdom.
Phidestros didn't know whether to be relieved or angry. He had assumed that he would resume command of the Royal Army as soon as Kalvan was vanquished. On the other hand, he would now be able to devote his full energies to the new territories that he had been promised if he defeated Kalvan and conquered Hostigos.
After seeing that everyone had a full goblet of winter wine, Phidestros asked, "What has brought Your Majesty so far from the warmth of the castle hearth?"
"Now that the Lord High Marshal has arrived, I wanted him to be brought up-to-date on your plans for the invasion of the False Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos. If things were more secure in the Kingdom, I would take command of the Grand Host myself."
If Styphon's House wasn't opposed to your being commander, that is, Phidestros thought. He smelled a skunk. He was about to be brought up to a review and he was certain if there were any questions about his campaign plans he would be unceremoniously relieved of his command. Why now, when the hard work was done and everything was going so well? Why not? Now that he had re-organized and re-built the Royal Army there were probably dozens of generals who thought they could do a better job of invading Hostigos. What he needed were some allies.
"If I'm going to explain the invasion thoroughly, I will need my commanders. Do I have Your Majesty's leave to call them?"
King Lysandros made a brushing motion with his slender left hand. "Of course, Captain-General."
Phidestros called in Knight Commander Orocles of the Zarthani Knights, one of Soton's favorites, three of his top generals and General Geblon, commander of his bodyguard the Iron Band. When he introduced his young generals, he could see a sneer of disapproval on Anaphon's face and even Marshal Zythannes looked mortified.
"I do not understand this title of general," the Marshal said. "One is either a Captain-General or a Captain. These new ranks are confusing and smack of Hostigi heresy!"
"Let me explain, Lord High Marshal Zythannes. Before the Usurper Kalvan arrived to snatch western Hostigos from its rightful rulers, armies were not so large and there was no need for ranks other than those of Captain and Captain-General. Yet even so, there was enough confusion that the titles of Grand-Captain and Petty-Captain arose. I now have under my command blocks of men numbering upwards of four thousand, each under a General, ten Grand-Captains and forty Captains. What was I to do: create more Captain-Generals until they become as common as captains?"
Both commanders looked horrified. Lysandros' fox-like face appeared amused.
"No, of course, not. Instead I appointed my ablest commanders, all of them veterans in the war against Kalvan, as Generals." That coven a multitude of sins, thought Phidestros. Now let me hear these men who have never tasted Hostigi steel make an issue of their youth.
Captain-General Anaphon took out his pipe, sputtered, then put it back in his mouth.
"Your words are convincing, Grand Captain-General," Zythannes said. "We no more need a plague of Captain-Generals than we need one of Ormaz's demons!"
King Lysandros nodded his agreement. "What are your invasion plans?"
"This time we will fight as one Host, rather than several armies as was done under the late King Kaiphranos. Grand Master Soton will join us from the south. Knight Commander Orocles will brief you on the Grand Master's plans."
Orocles stood up and began to speak. "Grand Master Soton will be leading seven Lances, four thousand Holy Warriors of Styphon, seven thousand mercenaries, and three thousand light Sastragathi cavalry. Many have already arrived and will be wintering in Hos-Harphax." He went on to break them down by unit and troop type.
Lord High Marshal Zythannes broke in to say he would be commanding eight Sacred Squares, the rebuilt Royal Square, the Royal Cavalry, and almost ten thousand mercenary horse and foot. "With the Ros-Zarthani mercenaries, Grand Master Soton and I will be leading more than sixty-five thousand soldiers to join the Grand Host."
Even Great King Lysandros was impressed by those figures. "By Styphon's Great Beard, this will truly be a Grand Host. With both armies joined we will have more than a hundred thousand men to ravage the false Kingdom of Hostigos. What are your estimates of the Usurper's forces?"
"The False King's army has grown rapidly this past year, but even with all his levy he will be lucky to match our numbers by half."
Captain-General Anaphon looked disappointed; it appeared this meeting was going in every direction but the one he'd envisioned. "We have outnumbered the Daemon Kalvan before, but to no avail. Why should the Grand Host win any successes the Holy Host was unable to garner?"
"Before we were divided, now we are one host," Phidestros answered. "Also, we are more experienced in the Usurper's tactics and strategy."
Phidestros diplomatically restrained from mentioning that they were also rid of several idiotic Captain-Generals, such as Prince Philesteus who had died at Chothros Heights with most of his equally thick-headed Royal Lancers.
Anaphon looked like a man who had just sucked a lemon dry. "Are you implying that because I have never fought personally against the Daemon King that I could not defeat him?"
Phidestros paused to tap the tobacco out of his pipe, thinking if the boot fits, pull it on! However, one did not maintain command of the Grand Host by insulting his Great King's favorites to their face.
Before Phidestros could speak, Knight Commander Orocles butted in. "The Grand Captain-General is too much a gentleman and good superior commander to give a candid answer. I, however, answer to no one but my god and Grand Master Soton. King Kalvan devours inexperienced commanders much like the Daemon Ormaz eats the dead in Regwarn. To defeat Kalvan we must remain united among ourselves under commanders, such as Captain-General Phidestros and Grand Master Soton. To do anything else would be sheer folly, one that the Order may well decline to participate in."
There was dead quiet. Orocles was known to have the Grand Master's ear and wouldn't be speaking thus unless he were reflecting Soton's own thoughts.
Anaphon, his face flushed, rose to his feet with his hand grasping his sword hilt. Orocles stood to his full height, half a head taller than the burly Captain-General.
Lysandros, obviously not wanting an in
cident that could splinter the Grand Host, put his hand on Anaphon's sword arm with such pressure his hand turned the color of chalk. "Sit down, Captain-General, or your next rank will be that of Grand-Captain of Latrines!"
White-faced, Captain-General Anaphon sat back in his seat.
"Grand Captain-General Phidestros, I would like to compliment you upon your success. You have gathered the greatest force in the history of the Five Kingdoms and appear to be firmly in the saddle. We have complete faith and confidence in your abilities to command the Grand Host. We pray for your continued success in Hostigos. To Grand Captain-General Phidestros, a toast!"
Servants quickly brought everyone at the table a goblet of potent winter wine.
Phidestros diplomatically countered, "To a noble and wise Great King!"
Lysandros, who knew how to lose gracefully, nodded ironically. But the message in his eyes was crystal clear. Defeat Kalvan and glory is yours. Lose and you will spend eternity in the deepest pit in the Cavern of the dead
TWENTY
As a pile of parchments slipped off his desk and fell to the stone, floor, Phidestros watched in disgust. Requisitions and muster lists were still piled chin-high, and he was spending yet more precious time jawing with the Holy Investigator, who kept sniffing around the Grand Host for heretics! He was coming to the conclusion that Grand Master Soton was right about appointing junior officers to take care of the detail work.
The forward arm of the Grand Host was stalled outside, while the remainder wintered in Tarr-Harphax and Tarr-Aeygos. He couldn't wait until they entered Hostigi territory so Roxthar would stop climbing over his shoulders.
He was still beating his head against his desk trying to figure out how to break into Tarr-Locra, the most fiendishly designed castle he'd ever encountered. The tarr was built in the shape of a multi-pointed star, with long killing lanes for gunfire that would decimate any siege train that approached the walls-another of Kalvan's innovations, he was sure. Sometimes he thought he was fighting for the wrong side in this war.
