Great Kings' War

by Roland Green

  GREAT KINGS' WAR

  Roland Green and John F. Carr

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1985 by Roland Green and John F. Carr

  Revised Edition Copyright © 2004 by Roland Green and John F. Carr

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

  Baen Publishing Enterprises

  P.O. Box 1403

  Riverdale, NY 10471

  www.baen.com

  ISBN No.: 0-937912-03-4

  Cover art by Alan Gutierrez

  Revised Edition

  Ace Books / March 1985

  Baen Free Library / September 2004

  For information address: Pequod Press

  P.O. Box 3474, Northridge, CA 91328

  PequodPressPub@aol.com

  To contact the authors or for more information on Kalvan and H. Beam Piper works see: www.Hostigos.com

  or e-mail otherwhen@aol.com

  Electronic version by WebWrights

  http://www.webwrights.com

  To the memory of H. Beam Piper,

  and his Paratime/Aryan-Transpacific hideaway.

  "FIRE!"

  The first Hostigi volley tore into the Ktemnoi front rank as if they were a battery of artillery guns firing case shot. A great cheer rose up from the Hostigi ranks. The second volley and third were almost as devastating; the fourth less so. Still the Ktemnoi squares held. Now the musketeers were supposed to sling their weapons and fall back; instead many picked up the pikes of the wounded or dead, while others drew their swords and held their places.

  "Pikes advance. CHARGE!"

  As Xykos began to run toward the Sacred Square straight ahead, he was amazed at how quickly the Ktemnoi rear ranks moved forward to replace their fallen comrades. It was an admirable display of courage. He would make a toast to Galzar after he buried their bones. The remaining Ktemnoi musketeers fired a last ragged volley at almost point-blank range, then fell back, leaving the billmen to take the Hostigi charge.

  There was a cry from ten thousand throats—

  "KILL THE DEMON SPAWN!"

  The billmen began their charge.

  The Hostigi reply came—

  "DOWN STYPHON!"

  The two armies collided with such a shock that the first two Hostigi ranks disappeared before Xykos' eyes. He was eight ranks deep into what had once been the Ktemnoi line before he came to a stop with his thirty-six inch pike head buried halfway to the end of its iron head into a billman's hip. He dropped the pike and drew the two-handed sword Boarsbane from its scabbard across his back. He had the sword blade out in time to parry a blow from a billhead. His next stroke sent the edge through the billman's shoulder, splitting him down to his tripes.

  "My friend Beam Piper would have liked this book."

  —Jerry Pournelle

  "GREAT KINGS' WAR is a lot of fun, a fine adventure story in the tradition of the original H. Beam Piper works."

  —Poul Anderson

  "Kalvan of Otherwhen goes resoundingly to battle once more in skilled hands."

  —Gordon R. Dickson

  "We both enjoyed the book very much. When is the sequel coming out?"

  —Robert Adams and Andre Norton

  PROLOGUE

  After her visit with her Graduate Advisor, Danar Sirna was still in a state of shock as she rode the gravlift down to the 40th Floor of Dhergabar University Tower where the large assembly halls were situated. Her Advisor had dropped a bombshell, as he put it; he was a well-known expert on Fourth Level, Europo-American—specializing, she thought wryly, in clichés.

  Still, Sirna had just received the dream posting of the decade; she'd been assigned to the Kalvan Study Team as the only undergraduate!

  Lord Kalvan, the former Pennsylvania State trooper Calvin Morrison, had been picked up on a transtemporal conveyor accidentally and been dropped off on Aryan Transpacific, Styphon's House Subsector where he'd created enough of a stir to spin off an entirely new time-line, identified almost immediately by the Paratime Police. Suddenly, for the first time in history, the University had an opportunity to study and observe a new time-line from the exact moment of divarication.

  And Sirna was going to be there.

  She was an undergraduate specializing on Fourth Level Studies, with an emphasis on Alexandria-Macedonia, Ptolemaic Subsector History, which was about as far away from life on First Level as she could find. After a disastrous marriage, she was literally retreating from reality, as her Mentalist had put it, when she'd informed him that she intended to return to the University of Dhergabar and work on her Scholar Degree.

  Sirna's scholastic scores were high, but not exemplary, so it had come as a shock to her, and her advisor, to learn that she had gotten this dream assignment to the Kalvan Study Team. It could easily translate into a career in Outtime Studies or a chair in Aryan Transpacific. Still, there were thousands of more deserving graduate students at the University and she couldn't come up with any reason that she, of all people, had been selected.

  After the pseudo-grav cushioned the drop, Sirna got out of the lift and stepped on the nearest slideway toward the Main Assembly Hall—the University's largest lecture hall. Danthor Dras, the Dean of Aryan-Transpacific and one of the most respected, and feared, scholars at the University, was going to speak on the history of Styphon's House Subsector. Dras focused interest on any topic he covered, but this time media interest in the displaced former Pennsylvania State Trooper was attracting serious news and broadcast attention all on its own.

  The lecture hall was almost filled and Sirna was forced to sit at the back, near the main entranceway. She had just settled into her form-fitting seat, when Danthor Dras strode up to the lectern, newsies trailing behind like jackals after a big cat. Dras' hair flowed back from his leonine countenance like silver wings, giving him the look of a successful Fourth Level politician or preacher. As he cleared his throat, the noisy Dhergabar University lecture room fell silent.

  "I've been invited here to address the Kalvan Study Teams and interested observers," Danthor Dras smiled to acknowledge the crowd, which spilled out into the hallways of the large lecture room, as well as the millions of viewers watching his three-dimensional image on all the major networks.

  "As most of you know, I've spent more than fifty years researching Fourth Level, Aryan-Transpacific, as part of my research on theocracies and their effects on political and economic structures. And, let me say this," Danthor Dras grinned widely, "this outfit is the nastiest bunch of religious frauds and out-and-out crooks it's been my pleasure to study."

  The switch from dry lecture to informality had the desired effect and the crowd responded enthusiastically.

  The wall sized visiscreen behind Scholar Danthor came to life showing a Styphon's House temple-farm slave pen filled with skin-and-bone wretches eating slop out of animal troughs before switching to a scene where white robed priests were wielding whips on slaves, wearing nothing but tattered shirts and trousers, hauling rocks in what appeared to be near-freezing weather. Next the display featured a room full of yellow and black robed high priests eating at a table laden with food and delicacies, while being entertained by musicians and scantily clad dancers. Then the scene changed to a burning village assaulted by armored men with red capes and silver armor wielding some kind of long bladed poleax. A black robed upperpriest pointed to a group of comely young women who were led away in chains, while their neighbors were burned out of their houses. Any who tried to defend themselves were hacked to death. One man attempted to run away and was shot by a primitive pistol
the length of a small carbine.

  "Rather than bore you with too many details," Dras continued, "let me give you Styphon's House history in capsule form. Some five hundred years ago the 'god' Styphon was a minor deity, a healer god, among a much larger pantheon, with only a few half-hearted followers on the primitive Aryan-Transpacific Sector. The dominant gods among the Zarthani, as this group of the Sanskrit-speaking Indo-Aryan settlers called themselves, were Allfather Dralm—the usual wise all-knowing father god figure, Yirtta Allmother, the female goddess of fertility and Galzar Wolfhead, god of war.

  "This all changed when one of the priests of a small temple who called themselves Styphon's House was mixing a batch of primitive chemical compounds that pass for medicine on this backward Sector. When he mixed his ingredients and put them under a flame—they went BAM!"

  His voice boomed through the room, echoing this primal moment.

  "So it was that gunpowder, or fireseed as they called it, was born on Aryan-Transpacific. This underpriest was smart enough to keep his discovery a secret, contacted his boss and suddenly the 'Fireseed Mystery' was born. Styphon's House has used this knowledge to turn Styphon's House from a minor cult to the dominant religious institution on a new branch of Fourth Level, Aryan-Transpacific, fittingly named Styphon's House Subsector.

  "By withholding fireseed, Styphon's House has been able to make and break nobles, princes and kings. Since 'fireseed' is doled out, usually in small quantities, to favored allies, Styphon's own coffers have swelled with hundreds of years of accumulation of precious metals. Styphon's House has used their accumulation of wealth to dominate the primitive banking system, inter-kingdom trade and keep technological innovation to a minimum. If they hear of any invention or discovery that threatens their monopoly they buy it. If the inventor is uncooperative, they arrange to have him killed and continue on with business as usual.

  "Now, this is where it gets interesting," Dras said, with a knowing wink to his audience. Even Sirna felt herself leaning forward in her seat. "One of the characteristics that almost all outtime religions share is that the followers actually believe—despite all contrary evidence—that their deity is real. As real as this lectern!" Danthor said, pounding on it for emphasis. "Typically, in the majority of temples, churches and ashrams, the priests are the most fervent believers in their supposed gods and goddesses. True, all religions have doubters and lapsed believers among them, but the average priest believes his god or gods are the true gods, or One God—only the competitions' deities are fakes!

  "Yes, as hard as it is for us to believe, most of these outtimers really truly believe the drivel they're fed, which is what makes them so damn dangerous, giving rise to religious persecutions and wars—the nastiest wars of all. There's nothing holier than killing your neighbor for the benefit of his soul, or to keep him safe from heresy.

  "In a large number of pre-industrial societies, the priests have a monopoly on centralized record keeping and accumulation of wealth. In many cases, the result is a theocracy, even if not in name. With the power of the state behind them, these 'theocracies,' having a monopoly on the 'truth' and a pipeline to the deity, accumulate a lot of economic assets, be that property, precious metals or symbolic currency.

  "However, there are very few religious organizations founded on a sham miracle, which they know to be a natural event, such as Styphon's House. Not surprisingly, Styphon's priesthood has taken full advantage of the economic opportunities their monopoly on fireseed allows—all in the name of their deity, of course."

  Dras paused to wink at the camera recording the event. There was a smatter of nervous laughter.

  "In this area,' Danthor continued, "Styphon's House is both refreshingly and appallingly dishonest! The Temple Upperpriests and Archpriests of Styphon's House are out-and-out crooks and make no apologies for it."

  Just like us, thought Sirna with uncharacteristic cynicism, as we Home Timeliners rob uncountable time-lines of their resources for our own use. Only we apologize for it—to ourselves—all the time!

  "Styphon's House's first temples were in Hos-Ktemnos and, ever since the Fireseed Mystery was discovered, they have used their discovery to turn their formerly minor deity into the dominant god figure within the southern kingdoms of Hos-Ktemnos and, to a lesser degree, Hos-Bletha."

  Danthor Dras paused to whip out a concealed yellow robe, which he quickly donned before his audience. His countenance underwent a complete metamorphosis, taking on a feral cast as, right before their eyes, he actually became a Styphon's House Highpriest. Many of the assembled academics moved back in their seats or hissed audibly. Sirna was certain Danthor's unsuspected acting talent was a major part of his success as an outtime researcher and media phenomenon.

  After grinning wickedly, Dras resumed his talk. "In an effort to infiltrate Styphon's House, I set up a cover as an Hos-Blethan temple Highpriest. Part of my background was passing myself off as a son of a noble family, who had come to religion in his middle years. The Zarthani are unduly impressed with titles and birth pedigree."

  The room was filled with titters since many of the Home Timeliners, outside of the University, responded the same way to outdated patents of nobility.

  "Since the majority of Zarthani, including the priesthood, are illiterate, I was able to advance rapidly through the Temple hierarchy. After a few years at the Temple of Hos-Bletha in Bletha City, I was able to obtain a transfer to the Holy City of Balph, which is to Styphon's House much as Memphis is on Fourth Level Alexandria Macedonian, or the Vatican is on Europo-American, Plantagenet Subsector. My reading abilities got me a spot in the Archives, which—trust me—is not a popular posting with most of Styphon's Highpriests. The corruption and influence peddling in Balph, to make a good First Level analogy, is best compared to the Management Party's machinations in our own Executive Council!"

  The audience roared. Management Party, which everyone considered the Paratime Police's political mouthpiece, had been in control of the Executive Council since the Mystic Wars some four thousand years ago. Management Party—and therefore the Paratime Police—was considered by most academics to be the major obstacle to serious outtime research. Sirna wasn't convinced that the Paratime Police were doing anything more than their job as mandated by the Paratime Code since, as a collective body, the University had about as much vested self-interest as Styphon's House. That 'view' of hers had long been a major area of contention between her and her former husband.

  "The Archpriest of the Archives was a half-blind highpriest of some eighty years and he was pleased to at long last find what he saw as a successor. In the Archives, most assistants leave as soon as they can buy, bribe or blackmail their way to a better position within the Temple hierarchy. After a short period of administrative work, I was promoted to his assistant and allowed access the High Temple of Balph Archives, a treasure trove of ancient parchments and documents. After a number of years in the Archives, I was able to put together a complete history of Styphon's House—not that I'll go into that here."

  There was an audible sigh of relief throughout the room. These were all academics and they understood how much time a complete history briefing might involve.

  Sirna noticed wryly that Danthor did manage to add a plug for his new book. "However, I will mention that the new edition of my history on Styphon's House, Gunpowder Theocracy, is now available from the Dhergabar University Press."

  Danthor made a dramatic cough before starting again, "The actual priestly apothecary who invented the fireseed formula is forgotten. However, while searching through the Temple Archives, I found a statue of the priest who discovered its lethal potential. In the beginning Styphon's House used fireseed to create explosions of colored gas and light to awe the locals. Then Highpriest Trythos discovered, while making primitive fireworks, that fireseed, when used inside a tube with a fuse, could propel a stone a significant distance.

  "It was Highpriest Trythos who contrived the first primitive handgun—a metal tube cradled in a wooden
stock which shot a stone pellet." Dras reached down and picked up a golden statue, which he then took to the first row of seats and handed to one of the professors. "Trythos was pronounced as the first Styphon's Own Voice and devised the Inner Circle of Archpriests as a means to protect the Fireseed Mystery. This is Trythos' image recorded in gold. The statue bears a striking resemblance to Styphon's Great Image in the Great Temple at Balph, made several decades after his death, where the Inner Circle of Styphon's House meets. Styphon's true believers see this as proof that Styphon himself was the author of the first handgun.

  "Please pass it to your neighbor after you've had a look at it," he admonished the professor who appeared mesmerized by the statue.

  It took several minutes to reach her row, but Sirna found the small gold statue to be very heavy and cold, but vibrant with a life force all its own. The work was vaguely Babylonian, reminding Sirna of some of the stonework she had observed from Fourth Level Babylonian Hegemony, Assyrian Subsector that she had studied in her Empires Frozen in Time class. The beard was long and braided; whoever had made the mold—probably using the lost wax method—was a talented artist. The face looked almost real; there was an arrogant sneer to the tiny lips—probably made after Trythos was elevated to the top of the Temple hierarchy. All the Archpriests she'd seen on spool had shared the same look of innate superiority.

  Once everyone had been given the opportunity to examine the idol, Danthor continued, "Styphon's House was quick to exploit their new discovery. To the Zarthani of that time, it was a fearsome unearthly weapon from the gods. Styphon's House used that superstitious awe to destroy their enemies and reward their allies.

  "The rest, as they say, is history. It took Styphon's House a century to go from mealed fireseed to corned, or black powder, and another century and a half to evolve the firing mechanism from the early matchlock handguns to flintlocks. Firearm technology has remained in a state of stasis ever since as Styphon's House can discern no advantage to making their weapons more efficient. In fact, there's evidence they've held back the evolution of firearms, such as cast cannon with flintlock mechanisms, to keep the military forces from developing more effective arms. Through their control of military technology, as well as the supply and dispensation of fireseed, Styphon's House has been able to keep the majority of the inter-kingdom conflicts small and contained, preventing any decisive wars that might establish peace and lessen the Great Kingdoms' dependence upon Styphon's House.