Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

by John F. Carr

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sure Euklestes knew nothing of importance, or you would have wrung it out of him.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “The Baron still has his life.” More than the dog deserved, she thought. Euklestes knew his old friend was up to something untoward but kept his worries to himself. This made him a traitor too, in her eyes.

  “It’s not unexpected after General Klestreus’ report on the Hyllos semaphore station. It’s not like Sthentros to go off on his own, without a lot of boasting to his cronies and vying for their attention. We should have kept better track of that traitorous dog.”

  “You don’t think he’s with the Styphoni?” Rylla asked.

  “Of course, how else would he get his reward for suborning the semaphore station. I should never have put so many locals into the stations.”

  “You were trying to keep the veterans close to their families, my husband. Most of our Hostigi soldiers would die for the crown. How could you have known that Sthentros had his own traitor’s nest in Hyllos? For a moon half all we got were false messages from the Beshtan border.”

  “If I ever see that traitor, I’ll geld him first, then I’ll--”

  “How do you think I feel? I’ve known Cousin Sthentros all my life! I never liked him, but he was of my Mother’s blood ...”

  “I know. Don’t take it too hard. I’ll have to tell you about the Borgias sometime--maybe not.”

  “It doesn’t help that your best spy master is off fighting in Hos-Bletha, either.”

  Kalvan nodded. “I never thought I’d say it, but I miss that old turkey-thief Skranga.”

  “Still,” added Rylla through clenched teeth, “Dralm help Sthentros, if I ever get my hands on that spineless pigeon-brained cousin of mine ...”

  Kalvan cleared his throat. “Anyway, as I was saying. I’m going to keep Duke Euriptos and the Army of Sashta right under my nose; that way, if he tries to bug out I can turn my Tymannian Guard on him.”

  Rylla laughed. “He turned beet red when you told him that! I’ve heard turkeys that gobbled less than Euriptos. After what happened to his Uncle Balthames, he’s frightened to death by the tame Sastragathi of yours, Vanar Halgoth!”

  “Which only goes to show Euriptos has more brains than either of his uncles! But getting back to business, I’m also going to add the Army of Nyklos, the Army of Ulthor, and all twelve thousand mercenary horse and foot.”

  “Is it best to put all our softest eggs in one basket, my husband?”

  “Yes, if you’ve got half the Royal Army to prop them up with. I don’t want anyone else to have to wonder if Duke Euriptos will change sides and join the enemy at the last minute like his Uncle Balthar did at the Battle of Tenabra, or loot our baggage. With some thirty-five thousand troops, the center will be the anvil for Hestophes and Phrames to hammer the Grand Host.”

  “What about me?”

  “I haven’t forgotten you, dearest. You’ll be in command of the rearguard. I want you where you can do the most good.”

  Yes, and you’d whisk me right off the battlefield, my dear husband, if you thought you could get away with it! It was hard not to love a man who had your best interest at heart, even if his opinion of that ‘best interest’ disagreed dramatically from your own. This time, however, she was going to bite her tongue and let Kalvan have his way without a quarrel. From the looks of things, he was going to need every bit of strength he had for the Styphoni Grand Host.

  “If that is where you want me, that’s where I’ll be.”

  Kalvan looked so flustered at her acquiescence she went over and nuzzled his beard. How sickening, she thought to herself. I wasn’t like this before the baby was born.

  “I’ll give you all five thousand men of the Mobile Force and the Hostigos cavalry.”

  She was sure he added the last to show her how pleased he was. The Princely Army of Hostigos had taken a bad beating during the past few years and it was nice to see that Kalvan recognized their sacrifice. “What about the Mounted Rifles and the Hostigi Carbineers?”

  Kalvan said, “I’m going to use the Mounted Rifles to stiffen the center. That’ll leave you with the Carbineers.”

  Rylla nodded. That was fair.

  “Prince Phrames will command the left wing. I’m going to give him the remaining six regiments of Royal Foot, including the Hostigos Rifles. Plus four regiments of Royal Horse, his own Army of Beshta, the Ulthori infantry, and three thousand heavy horse. That will give Phrames almost twenty thousand men, two-thirds of them good infantry, except for the Ulthori foot who are fighting mostly with crossbows and spears.”

  Kalvan paused to eat some more of his breakfast, giving Rylla a chance to comment.

  “What about the Hostigi foot? Phrames could use them to stiffen his Ulthori levy.”

  “Good thinking. Done. That will leave four regiments of Royal Horse for Hestophes on the rightward. I’ll also give him the Princely armies of Nostor, Kyblos, and Sask. Sarrask’s Army of Sask is now the largest and best trained army we have, other than the Royal Army itself.”

  “I agree. But do you think we should use Sarrask as a sub-commander under Hestophes.”

  “You’re right, it might ruffle his feathers. Sarrask works so well with you, I’ll let him and his army join you in the rearguard and post Phrames the Army of Nyklos.”

  Rylla made a face. “Sarrask is going to be ‘ticked off,’ as you put it! He wasn’t very happy when you left him to go fight Soton in the Trygath.”

  “Actually, as hard as this is to say, Sarrask’s the only Prince other than Phrames or your father whom I’d trust at my back.”

  “Then you tell him that. The only thing Sarrask likes better than fighting is flattery, especially when it’s true and it comes from you.”

  “Good idea, I will. Besides, everyone will get their fill of fighting in this battle, I promise.”

  “What about the Ulthori cavalry?”

  “I’ll give those iron-hats to Hestophes. Maybe he can come up with something to keep them busy. They’re not as elegant as the old Harphaxi Royal Lancers, but they’ll fight until they drop or die. I have a feeling that is the way this battle is going to go.”

  “That will make Sarrask a happy man!”

  “What will make me happy?” Sarrask asked, as he barged into the room. He looked hungrily at Kalvan’s half-finished plate of eggs and cornbread.

  Rylla went over to the hearth and built a plate for Sarrask.

  His eyes lit up when she handed him his plate, along with one of the forks her husband had introduced. It was hard to believe now, but a few years ago that fork, along with any other weapons she could lay her hands on, would have been sticking out of Sarrask’s throat had they met like this.

  “Thank you, Rylla!”

  “Kalvan was just saying there would be lots of fighting in the battle and certainly enough to make you happy.”

  Sarrask nodded his head in between bites; he was eating noisily, with both hands and knife, the fork fallen forgotten to the baked tile floor.

  “Swearing fealty to Kalvan was the smartest decision I ever made. There hasn’t been a year since I swore my oath without one, two or three great battles!”

  There was shouting outside the farmhouse. Plates dropped from both Kalvan and Sarrask’s laps and in their place were pistols. Rylla was holding the frying pan with one hand like a shield and a knife in the other.

  Moments later Aspasthar came running into the farmhouse, followed by General Hestophes and Chancellor Chartiphon, who looked stricken.

  “What is it?” Rylla demanded.

  Chartiphon moved the boy aside and began to speak. “Curse and blast them! The Styphoni out-maneuvered us.”

  “What do you mean? Are they here now?” Kalvan demanded.

  “Not that bad,” put in Hestophes. “They must have expected a flank attack and laid a trap for us. The Mounted Rifles are no more!”

  Kalvan growled out loud.

  Rylla cried out, “Oh no! Colone
l Verkan--is he all right?” How could she ever face Dalla again if anything happened to Verkan?

  Chartiphon came over and took her into his arms. She tried to push away, but they encircled here like two steel bars. “Quiet, kitten. We don’t know what happened to Colonel Verkan. Only a few stragglers have returned to camp.” He paused to wipe off her tears with a cloth from his jerkin.

  Hestophes continued, “According to Sergeant Ryff, Verkan made a valiant last stand against an army ten times the size of his detachment. The last he saw of Verkan was when a Harphaxi trooper shot him in the chest. The Styphoni overran his position and he never saw the Colonel again. Ryff himself is badly injured; he took a bullet in the thigh and a sword took off one hand.”

  “How many Riflemen returned?”

  “Less than fifty and maybe twice that number of dragoons. They say the rest of the survivors, many of them wounded, will return to camp before nightfall.”

  “Send outriders to help the wounded and those without mounts.”

  “What about the rifles?”

  At first she thought Kalvan might berate her, but he looked as interested in the answer as she felt.

  Hestophes hung his head, shaking it from side to side. “Half the riflemen who returned came back with rifles with fouled locks or bent barrels. They say many of them surrendered; those who didn’t were slaughtered-- the Styphoni rode them into the ground. Even worse, Ryff reports there was a troop of Royal Harphaxi troopers who had their own rifles!”

  Kalvan shook his head like a dog throwing off water from its fur. “What’s done is done. I’m surprised we haven’t had to face rifles before now. Chartiphon, and you too Hestophes, gather the other generals. We need to meet for a Council of War!”

  They couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. Sarrask walked over to Kalvan and threw his arm over his shoulders. “Verkan was a good friend, Your Majesty. I’ve always been jealous of your friendship. But I liked him--even admired him. I know that a warrior with his prowess dispatched many Styphoni to Regwarn--which is as it should be. He died as a great captain. Now, let us make a mountain of Harphaxi corpses to do his bidding in Galzar’s Great Hall!”

  Rylla smiled at Sarrask, thanking him with her eyes. “Yes, my husband, let us kill many Styphoni and dedicate their funeral pyre to Verkan and all the other Hostigi dead!” And to my friend, Dalla, who will mourn her man as I would.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Phidestros peered across the low-lying valley to study the Hostigi troop disposition upon the opposite hillside. He was using a captured Hostigi ‘Farseer’ as one of the prisoners had called it. This magnifying tube had been discovered by one of his soldiers and brought to him by Geblon, who had been forced to finish a bloody engagement on the northern flank started by an impetuous Hos-Agrysi Prince who had never fought in a Kalvan-style battle. The Hostigi position had been overrun and the enemy routed, but at a horrendous cost. Too many more such victories would cost him the war.

  It was obvious that Great King Kalvan had selected his ground with care. He’d picked a position on a long hillside with gentle slopes, facing a similar but lower ridge. Both centers stood higher than the sides, except for Kalvan’s right flank.

  A fortified manor house and outbuilding lay before Kalvan’s center and Phidestros could see emplaced guns in front of and behind the manor. Kalvan’s army was divided into three divisions, with the Great King’s maroon standard at the center. It was a position that slightly favored the Hostigi, since Kalvan had a fortified defense; but not enough so that it would abort an attack by the Grand Host.

  The Grand Host had chased Kalvan for half a moon and now were a day’s march outside the Princedom of Hostigos. Phidestros wondered if it were wise to follow where Kalvan led. True, he had the superior force in terms of manpower, but Kalvan would not have picked this valley to make a stand if he did not perceive some strategic advantage.

  However, to take the war into Hostigos, rather than fight the battle here, would give Kalvan the advantage of having his men know there would be no retreat or escape--not with the Investigation in full rampage. No, the coin was tossed for better or for worse. Besides, he might never be able to position the Blethans so advantageously again for their surprise attack. To say nothing about their desertion problem, which had grown worse daily, ever since their comrades had left for Hos-Bletha.

  Also, his Grand Host was a large and unwieldy force with far too many different voices and commanders. It was becoming more and more difficult to hold the ‘Unwieldy’ Host, especially the Investigator, Archpriest Roxthar, to one purpose. Once they reached Hostigos proper, Roxthar would want to ‘borrow’ entire companies to pursue fleeing Hostigi.

  Over the winter, he had heard stories of the Investigation and put them down as child’s tales, told to scare youngsters into behaving. Then the Grand Master had acquainted him with tales of the Investigation’s excesses in Balph. He’d kept discipline over the Investigators, though he suspected he was buying an enemy in Roxthar, until they’d left Tarr-Veblos and crossed into Hos-Hostigos territory. Then Roxthar’s Investigators had begun their ‘work.’

  Phidestros had tried to ignore the Investigation; the war against Kalvan was enough to occupy any general’s mind. But this morning a Beshtan trooper from the Green Hawks, a mercenary company that had changed sides at the Battle of Tenabra, had brought a young boy whom he’d saved from one of the Investigators to tell his tale. The story he told was a perversion of the Code of Galzar, and not the first such story he had heard. Killing innocent civilians, especially women and children, was against all of Galzar’s teachings.

  As soon as the Wargod’s highpriests in Agrys City learned about the Investigation’s civilian atrocities in Hos-Hostigos, the Grand Host would be put under the Ban of Galzar. Maybe he’d get lucky and Roxthar would catch one of Kalvan’s rifle bullets.

  But the mercenary had also presented him with a new worry: the possibility that his own soldiers might mutiny against the civilian depredations of the Investigation and rise up and kill the Investigators. This might leave his army fighting both the Hostigi and Styphon’s House! With Great King Lysandros still anchored in Hos-Harphax, lest one of his princes revolt while the Royal Army was fighting in Hos-Hostigos, Phidestros would have to find a way to rein in the Investigator--or failing that, find a way to silence him for good.

  There was a loud boom as one of Kalvan’s big guns fired a ranging shot from the opposing hilltop. The shot went wide and to the right of the packed Ros-Zarthani wing. There was some movement among the front line of Ros-Zarthani archers as they broke ranks and reformed. Phidestros prayed to Galzar that Stratego Zarphu had more control over his soldiers when the battle was actually joined.

  Grand Master Soton, accompanied by Captain-General Mythross of Styphon’s Own Guard and Knight Commander Orocles, rode up alongside Phidestros. “Phidestros, when do we start this blood bath?”

  Phidestros grimaced. “General Kyblannos said he would have his mobile guns in position in another candle.”

  “Good. The sooner we come to the clash of arms the better. We do not want to give Kalvan’s big guns a chance to disorder our ranks before we’ve joined. By Galzar’s Mace, I just hope those western barbarians fight as well as they brag.”

  Phidestros nodded. Soton was in command of the right wing, to the rear of the Ros-Zarthani. He had a Wedge of Knights and two thousand light cavalry to ride over the Ros-Zarthani if they showed signs of faltering before Kalvan’s veterans. Phidestros himself was in charge of the Center, although it was really Geblon his subordinate who was in command, since Phidestros was charged with directing the battle from the hilltop.

  Phidestros had always been a front line commander and did not take to the idea of being out of the thick of things. But, as Soton had pointed out, in a battle where the wings were larger than the armies at Chothros Heights and Phyrax, someone had to direct the Grand Host. Soton had gone so far as to extract an oath out of him--never again!--not to join in the fray unle
ss there was no other recourse.

  So here he was to sit out the battle with the reserve, his own bodyguard the Iron Band, the Royal Dragoons and the Harphaxi Royal Lancers. The Lancers, if possible, were even more disconcerted about being out of the battle than he was. But he had wanted the Lancers where he could keep an eye on those iron-headed fools.

  If this battle was to be lost, it would be through his stupidity--not theirs.

  “Remember your promise,” Soton said echoing his thoughts.

  “Dralm blast it! I made a promise and by Galzar’s Mace I’ll keep it!”

  “See you do! If I’d stayed out of the front lines so that I could see what Kalvan was doing at the Battle of Phyrax, we wouldn’t be fighting here today.”

  Soton’s self-effacing words softened his nagging, but it still served to remind Phidestros that despite his title of Grand Captain-General he wasn’t completely in charge of the Grand Host. Regardless of what King Lysandros desired, this was Styphon’s war paid by Styphon’s gold and run by Styphon’s generals. Of course, he’d rather be upbraided by Soton, a military commander he admired, than Great King Lysandros who believed himself to be the greatest commander in the Five Kingdoms. May Galzar bless the Hos-Agrysi inspired unrest in Arklos that had kept Lysandros penned in with the city bands at Tarr-Harphax.

  “I will stay here. I’m just worried about Marshal Zythannes.”

  “Zythannes is a good commander and he has some of the best soldiers in the Five Kingdoms under his command with the Holy Squares. All he has to do is keep the Hostigi right from outflanking our center. Great King Cleitharses would have taken it as a deadly insult if we had not put him in command of one of the wings.”

  Phidestros had to choke back an insult to Zythannes, whose idea of military tactics was forming his men into giant squares, or tercios. These might have been good tactics before Kalvan, but now it bordered on suicide.

  It appeared that ten thousand reinforcements had bought Zythannes more say in the Grand Host than Phidestros owned. Yet there was no denying that the arrival of the Holy Squares, delayed by a peasant revolt in Hos-Ktemnos, had raised the Grand Host’s morale as well as Zythannes’ stature.