Gunpowder God

by John F. Carr

  Roxthar interrupted. “We must have a victory here over the forces of the False God Dralm. A victory here outside Varthon Town will end the war now as well as demonstrate the supremacy of the One True God.”

  “Then who do you suggest? Prince Simias who once fought a skirmish in a border dispute with Meligos? One, I might note, that he lost.”

  Simias’ face turned a brighter red than his crimson doublet.

  “Marshal Albides is the Temple’s choice,” Roxthar said firmly. “He has fought Kalvan before—”

  “And lost,” Prince Varion interrupted.

  Simias choked back a laugh.

  “No, no,” Prince Phrynoss said. “The idea of the Union of Styphon’s Friends is to show to the other princes and nobles of the Great Kingdoms that we are not in thrall to Styphon’s House. If we accept the Marshal as our leader, we lose all of our credibility. We will be seen as nothing more than the Temple of Styphon’s puppets.”

  “I agree,” Simias said.

  For once Archpriest Roxthar was silent.

  “Further,” Prince Varion said, “the troops know and love Captain-General Eukides. If we replace our respected commander on the eve of battle, we will look weak and indecisive.”

  Prince Phrynoss nodded.

  Simias looked as if he’d just swallowed his tongue, while Roxthar’s eyes burned like red-hot coals.

  II

  Syllon turned down the third flask of ale and raised his hands to warm them on the campfire. The local Varthoni brew was heady stuff and he wanted a clear mind for the coming battle. Two of his companions had slipped away to be with whores from Varthon Town. Others were rolling bones, for the most part losing what little of their pay remained. He had already made his offering of two silver crowns at Lytris’ Shrine today and didn’t want to spend anymore of his luck.

  From the line-up of the Union’s forces, Syllon knew the tomorrow sun would bring battle. Now, it was up to the gods and Hostigi steel. One thing he did know was that they could not rely on the Agrysi soldiers for much support; they were green for the larger part, although their morale was high. He wasn’t certain if it would remain so during the clash of arms to come.

  “Have another drink,” Gatnos ordered.

  He shook his head. “I’ve had enough, Gatnos. We’ll need all our strength to face the Red Hand in the morning.”

  “You think it will come to that?” Gatnos asked respectfully.

  Since surviving so many battles and a killing blow to the head, which had left a big dent in the left side of his skull without any apparent damage, many soldiers believed Syllon had been blessed by the Wargod. They often rubbed the top of his head for good luck or stuck their fingers in the depression. Some even believed he had been gifted with second sight. He found that hard to believe: If so, why had his farm been accursed and his woman leave him?

  If I have a home anywhere, it is in the army barracks or on the battlefield.

  “Yes, Gatnos, I believe the Styphoni will attack. I shared a flask with one of the scouts last night and he told me they have no other place to go. The Union Army took everything that was not tied down with them as they passed through eastern Varthon and they’ve been eating the horses and oxen in their baggage train for the past few days. They need to sack Varthon Town as much as we need to protect it.”

  Gatnos nodded. “Now, I see why they made you petty-captain, instead of myself. You see much farther than the end of your pikehead.”

  Syllon had to agree. Maybe the blow to my head did more than damage my skull. Maybe it sharpened my wits, too. Or is this one of Galzar’s gifts?

  “It is true that I have changed since that injury.” He paused to pull a woolen cloak up over his head to protect it from the lightly falling rain.

  “Toss more wood on the fire, or it will go out.”

  Gatnos threw several splits of the green wood that they’d collected two days before on the fire. It smoked almost as much as it burned, but the warmth it threw out kept the chill out of his bones.

  “I’m worried about Styphon’s Own Guard,” Gatnos replied, when he sat back down on one of the small logs set around the campfire. “Those blackguards are as tough as cobblestones.”

  “The Temple rats bleed red like the rest of us,” Syllon replied. “Just be thankful it’s the Union Army we’re facing, not Soton’s Host. They would gobble us up like a turkey feasting on a corncob.”

  Gatnos threw out his hands. “Truth. The Host numbers many times our own number. If we win, do you think the Captain-General will march against them?”

  “No. Captain-General Hestophes is no fool, or the Great King would have never sent him on this march. However, I doubt our allies have half his wits.”

  III

  Captain-General Eukides found himself a nice perch on a hillside from which to sit down and study the League’s Army. He took his pipe out of his belt loop, took a big pinch of tobacco out of his pouch and began to tamp it into the barrel. The League’s Army was laid out in good order and came as close to a sandbox presentation of tiny clay soldiers as he’d ever seen. It was disquieting.

  As a general rule, Eukides was opposed to fighting opponents in prepared positions. He preferred to maneuver his forces so that he had the advantage of terrain or position. Better yet, have them chase him and when they tired—turn and attack! Or best of all, surprise them. The problem with set battles—with all things being close to equal—was that the army with the most ammunition, highest morale and inspired leadership usually won.

  While the Union Army had lots of weapons and ammunition, their morale was sinking and, for the most part, their leadership was suspect. If Prince Simias would just leave me alone to do what I do best, we might have a chance to put an end to the League of Dralm right here and now. But that’s not to be, and the worst of it is he has the full support of Styphon’s House’s representative, Archpriest Roxthar.

  The other problem was their supply train was low on victuals. They had left Kryphlon City with insufficient food stocks for a long campaign; it was a mistake and he told them that before they left. But Prince Simias and the other princes didn’t want to wait for more supplies, falsely believing they could forage for whatever they needed in Varthon. What they hadn’t counted on was that the Varthoni, as they retreated, had stripped their fields of vegetables and grains, herded away, or killed, their cattle and livestock and left nothing behind for the Union of Styphon’s Friends Army to scavenge.

  They’d been able to pick up some wild game and an occasional lost cow or pig, but certainly not enough to feed thousands of hungry men. Now they were supplementing their rations with oxen and horses from the baggage train. A supply train from Kryphlon would be arriving—unless it were captured by Varthoni outriders—sometime within the next moon half. Unfortunately, they only had enough food for another moon quarter; they would have to defeat the League’s Army and besiege Varthon Town for its foodstuffs. Otherwise, they were going to starve.

  The way things were going for the Union forces it was almost as if the other gods were aligned against the Union of Styphon’s Friends. Maybe the true gods have turned against Styphon’s House and its allies because of their presumption and their mistreatment of the other gods’ worshippers? Eukides knew that there were no priests of Galzar with the Union Army; he wasn’t sure if it was because of the Ban, or if Roxthar had had them all murdered. Eukides wouldn’t put anything past that demon in human guise.

  He heard the sound of hooves and the jingle of harness hardware as someone rode up beside him. It was his trusted companion, Captain Dylon.

  “Doesn’t look good, does it, sir?”

  Eukides shook his head. “We don’t outnumber them and we can’t outmaneuver them. And there’s no place else to go for at least a hundred marches. We can’t even out-shoot them with the pitiful guns at our disposal. Fortunately, their guns don’t look much better. Our only hope is when we charge up the hill that one of their flanks breaks.”

  “Is that a sure thi
ng?”

  Again, he shook his head. “Look at their center.”

  “The infantry?”

  “Yes. See those banners, the blue halberd on a red field; Hostigi. The best troops in the Five Kingdoms. They won’t break unless we completely overpower them. Our best bet is the flanks. See all the princely and ducal banners?”

  “If we hit the center with Styphon’s Own Guard,” Dylon said, “we could probably contain them. If we get a miracle, even push them back.”

  Eukides nodded. “That’s what I think, but try convincing Investigator Roxthar of that.”

  “True,” Captain Dylon replied. “He’d rather keep the Red Hand in reserve so they can keep our troops from retreating or turning tail.”

  “Exactly. But I’m not going to order the attack unless he gives me four Temple Bands, at the very least.”

  “You’ll make a powerful enemy, sir.”

  Eukides laughed. “I already have too many. What’s one more? Besides, Albides is the only one in this blasted army who’s actually fought against Kalvan. He’ll know I’m right.”

  “What if the Archpriest tells him otherwise?”

  “There’s no love between those two. As strange as it may be, Marshal Albides may be my only supporter. With his help, we may have a chance to break the League’s center. Without it, we are all doomed.”

  Eukides paused to light his pipe, when it was drawing, he said, “Captain, I want you to give me your sworn oath.”

  “Of course, Captain-General. Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?” Dylon asked, with a hurt expression on his face.

  “No, no, old friend. I’m going to give you an order, but it will be one you will not want to obey. However, before I tell you what it is, I want your oath that you will do as I ask.”

  Captain Dylon looked confused. “I do not understand. We’ve known each other for over thirty winters: Have I ever let you down or not obeyed an order?”

  Eukides rose up and patted Dylon’s horse on the head. “No, never. But this will be the most difficult order I have ever given.”

  “Now, I’m worried….”

  “I’m an old man and few will miss me. You’re twenty years younger and have been my personal bodyguard for most of your years. Now, I want you to leave my service and take care of my family.”

  “You don’t expect to leave this battlefield, do you, sir?”

  “No. If we don’t win, I will die here. Either from an enemy bullet or sword, or by a dagger from one of the Investigator’s agents. It is possible we may eke out a victory, but if we do not, I need someone I trust to return to my estate and guard over my wife, my children and grandchildren. You know how easy it is for people of any station to disappear during wartime, and I’ve made a lot of enemies over the years. Many would not hesitate to take their enmity out on my family, especially if it will fatten their purse.”

  The Captain nodded. “I understand, your Lordship. I give you my sworn oath to Galzar that I will leave here at your request to watch over your family. But I’m most unhappy about it, yes I am.”

  “You don’t have to leave now, my friend. Stay here and watch the battle. If the Union Army is successful, come and join me. We will rejoice together our victory. However, if the League wins the battle, turn away and do not look back.”

  F⊕RTY FIVE

  I

  That evening, Marshal Albides, resplendent in polished silvered armor and red cape, showed up out of the dark and unannounced at Eukides’ campfire.

  “May I have a seat, Captain-General?” Albides asked, as he tried to lower himself without injury. To Eukides he appeared besotted with wine or ale.

  “Of course,” he answered, pointing to a stool nearby. “You can drop the titles; here we’re both just soldiers.”

  “Thank you,” Albides slurred. “I will get to the point quickly. I know you’re wondering what it is I want; I would be, if I were in your boots.”

  Eukides nodded his head.

  “I understand the princes are unhappy that you are their commander, although none of them has any real military experience. Except for Prince Varion, who supports you wholeheartedly, the rest are a gaggle of geese! I would no more follow them, than I would charge my horse off a cliff.” He ended his pronouncement with a big belch.

  “I appreciate your support,” Eukides said, which he found both surprising and welcome since the two men had hardly shared a word since leaving Agrys City together. The Marshal must fear Roxthar as much as the rest of us or he wouldn’t need to be deeply in his cups to speak the truth.

  Albides shook his head as if to clear it. “For the record, I concur with your decision to place my Temple Bands at the forefront of the Union’s foot. True, both armies are untested; however, the League’s Army did fight in the Battle of Agrys City and includes many Hostigi veterans. Their commander, Captain-General Hestophes, has never been beaten. We need to make a swift end to this battle and with my Guardsmen we can accomplish this.”

  “That was my thought,” Eukides replied. “The Temple Bands are not only our best troops, but the only ones with real experience fighting against the Hostigi. I place more faith in our cavalry, who are comprised mainly of men-at-arms and princely bodyguards, than the Union’s infantry who are truly untested.”

  “I see we share the same views on military matters; maybe we will share the same on potables.” Albides paused to bring out a bottle of drink from a pouch hanging from a belt at his waist. “This is a flask of Ermut’s Best, maybe Kalvan’s finest achievement. I was able to commandeer a wagonload during my time in Beshta.” He took a deep draught and then passed the bottle to Eukides.

  Eukides didn’t like to drink on a battle’s eve, but he needed to cement this temporary alliance with Marshal Albides if they were to have any hope of winning tomorrow’s contest. He took a sip and felt the warmth flow down from his mouth straight to his stomach. “Ahh,” he said, “Excellent!”

  Albides snorted. “I knew you were a man of discernment and taste. Win this battle and I will see you receive a hundred bottles of Ermut’s Best.”

  Eukides took another drink and passed the bottle. “It’s a deal.”

  Albides paused for a moment, gripping the seat bottom, so that he didn’t fall off his stool. “I’m sure we’ll find at least that many in the baggage train, but if we don’t I’ll have them sent from my home in Balph. I also wanted to inform you that I pressed on Archpriest Roxthar to include most of my Guardsmen in the van. He went off like one of Kalvan’s rockets!”

  They both laughed.

  “I would expect no less,” Eukides replied.

  “However, Roxthar did agree to the four Bands you asked for when I threatened to retire from the field if he did not. I think he wants the other two Bands as guards in case the battle went awry, but I told him they were to be used as a reserve.”

  Eukides nodded, appreciating Albides’ diplomacy in referring to the remaining Guardsmen as a reserve, rather than as a line of steel to keep the Union’s infantry from retreating or running away.

  “Not to protect his Holiness’s arse, either!” He took another drink, although more sloshed out of his mouth than went in.

  They both had a good laugh about that. It was good to know that they shared the same opinion of Archpriest Roxthar and his meddling in affairs he knew little about.

  “I can see you are a man of your word,” Albides said, his voice lowering.

  Eukides didn’t know what else to do but nod.

  “Then I will tell you something. Not all of us in the Styphon’s Guard relish working with the Investigation. The Investigation has made a lot of us rich, but many others believe it has stained our reputation. I promise you this, when the war is over, there will be some changes. You have my word on that.”

  “I was wondering how Styphon’s Own Guard stomached that butcher in bedsheets,” Eukides said. Ermut’s Best must be potent, otherwise I would have never been so free with my tongue.

  “Many of us are up to here
with it,” Albides said, bringing his left hand up to his chin. “Unfortunately, High Marshal Xenophes is more interested in obtaining gold to finish building his palace in Balph than in the health of Styphon’s Own Guard.” He paused to belch. “Did you know that we’ve lost almost half our number in the past five winters? And now Styphon’s Voice Anaxthenes has created his own personal bodyguard. I think the Supreme Priest wants to destroy the Temple Guard…all because of that murdering swine Roxthar.”

  Eukides wasn’t sure how best to reply. So he just accepted the offered flask and drank deeply, saying, “To victory and Ermut’s Best!”

  Albides chortled, then replied with his own toast, “To Galzar, may he once again reign supreme!”

  II

  After running the disposition of the League’s army through his head once more, Hestophes decided that the soldiers were seated as well as they could be. He had reorganized the Hostigi pike and shot regiments, breaking them into three pike units and two of shot. The pikemen, well over three thousand pikes, were placed at the center and backed by another five thousand Agrysi pike and shot units of questionable ability. He had found horses for the remaining two regiments of Hostigi arquebusiers and musketeers, and was holding them in the rear as a mobile reserve.

  Hestophes had placed the cream of the princely bodyguard and noble lancers, including all the Hostigi cavalry, some three companies, in the right wing under the command of Duke Mnestros, who had fought with the Hostigi before and would know how to use them best. The left wing was made up of some four thousand mercenary cavalry and the remaining princely men-at-arms and lancers under the command of Prince Clytos of Glarth, who was already battle-tested.

  If he could be in three places at once, Hestophes would have taken command of the left wing himself. However, Kalvan had taught him that a commander selected his best captains to man the battle divisions, then got out of their way. His job was to manage the entire army and see to it that the reserves were used where and when they were most needed. The men whom he really wanted as commanders, Prince Phrames or Prince Sarrask, were back in Nos-Hostigos. He’d have to make do with what he had at hand.