by John F. Carr
Highpriest Davros' voice rose in pitch. "Then what of the people whom Great King Kalvan counts among his family and friends?"
"I know them well. First there is Prince Ptosphes, a reverent believer in the true gods and a beloved ruler. He is fair and honest. No better man has ruled Hostigos since his great, great grandfather's time. His daughter Rylla is as beautiful and radiant as the summer sun, and as hot tempered."
The last statement brought a few laughs.
"Rylla was brought up without the benefit of a mother, when the Princess Demia died in childbirth. Perhaps, not having a son, Ptosphes not only spoiled the girl, but also encouraged her in manly arts. I have known her all her life; she even calls me Uncle Xentos. Still, I have been dismayed on numerous occasions by her quick temper and violent nature. It is said that she laughs with glee upon the battlefield. And shows little mercy to the vanquished. We have shared bitter words over this fault."
There was a collective drawing of breaths.
"I fear she encourages her husband in the battle arts, rather than the ways of peace, may the Allfather forgive her. I have pointed this out to both of them on numerous occasions to little result. I fear that the Great Queen's influence on Kalvan is not for the best."
"Are you saying that she is under the spell of the Undergods?" asked an elderly highpriest, with a white, tobacco-stained beard that coursed down to his waist.
"No. I believe she means well, but her nature was tainted by her father's desire for a man-child to continue the line. I pray for her every day."
"This is disturbing," Highpriest Davros said. "If Kalvan is Dralm sent, why has he picked this woman as his consort? I fear that we will not be able to declare his divinity until the will of the gods has manifested itself. True, he has worked miracles, defeated large armies and done well for the common folk of Hos-Hostigos, but yet he is still besieged by the Devil Styphon's spawn and their armies, and even legitimate rulers debate his qualities. Until these matters are resolved, we cannot recommend that the rulers of the northern kingdoms and princedoms supply Kalvan with gold, weapons or fireseed."
The Highpriest of Glarth stood up. "I do not understand this reluctance to support and aid the one man who has many times over defeated our greatest enemy, the false god Styphon and his corrupt priesthood. Those of you in the north have not yet seen the false-priests of Styphon buy their way into your provinces, as we in Glarth have seen. Styphon's agents grow bolder day after day. Those nobles who cannot be bought directly with the False Temple's gold, are seduced with loans from Styphon's banking houses and led into debt whereupon they are beholden to Styphon's money lenders. They are then encouraged to leave the Temple of Dralm and worship only at Styphon's altar. What say you to that?"
Highpriest Socratos, former Highpriest of the Harphax City Temple and now in exile, stood up and spoke. "As you all know, I was fortunate to escape from Harphax City less than a moon ago, after Great King Kaiphranos left us to ascend into Allfather Dralm's Court. Now, since his leaving, there is open persecution of Dralm throughout Hos-Harphax. Never before have Temples been sacked and burned in the Northern Kingdoms until the Usurper Kalvan arrived! I lay this all at his feet."
The Highpriest of Glarth, his face blood red with anger, cried, "Are you saying that Kalvan is now burning and destroying Dralm's Temples?"
"No, but he has angered the Archpriests of Styphon's House and nobles and prince of Hos-Harphax, turning them against Allfather Dralm. Were Kalvan still in the Cold Lands, I would be safe in my former Temple and on the avenues of Harphax City. Yes, we have had disagreements with Styphon's Archpriest before, but they were always resolved amicably; until this Usurper Kalvan arrived!"
"Styphon's House is buying their support with gold and their Temple Guard. We need to support Kalvan, not vilify him! He is the only ruler in the Northern Kingdoms who dares to defy Styphon and his minions."
Davros stood stiffly. "Anyone whose beliefs can be bought with gold and silver is not worthy to worship at Temple of Dralm. I do not fear Styphon's moneylenders, what I do fear are Styphon's armies. And before Great King Kalvan, they stayed home in the south; now they threaten us all. As High-priest Socratos has so clearly explained, Kalvan—be he Daemon or demigod—has brought Styphon's armies to our lands.
"Will the Temple of Allfather Dralm support the man who calls himself Great King Kalvan, or do we recommend that the northern kingdoms hold back their gold, arms and soldiers? How do you vote? Yea or Nay."
"Nay," came the almost unanimous voice of the Council of Dralm. The Highpriest of Glarth and few other northern Harphaxi highpriests voted yea. Xentos, because of his friendship with Kalvan and Rylla, did not vote.
"It is done!"
The Highpriest of Glarth and a few other highpriests stomped out of the Temple, shaking their heads.
"Xentos, you are to take our judgment to Great King Kalvan and council him to have patience. Tell him when the auguries are right; we will reconsider our decision. I will talk to the leaders of the League of Dralm and council them to prepare for war, but refrain from any alliance with the Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos until Allfather Dralm has spoken."
Xentos felt his stomach drop. There would be no celebration upon his return to Hostigos. In truth, there would be much recrimination—not the least amount from Rylla. Yet, how could he council otherwise?
"Finally, in recognition of the Unholy War raised against the True Gods and their head, Allfather Dralm, we will need someone to lead the high-priests of Dralm. A Primate, first among equals. And for that position, I nominate Highpriest Xentos, who has shown no favoritism towards his home and friends, thereby proving his devotion to the Father God. How do you vote? Yea or Nay."
"Yea," thundered the assembled highpriests throughout the Great Hall of Dralm.
Xentos looked down at the table to hide the tears in his eyes. First Primate of Dralm, never had he—a simple highpriest—dared dream so high. But how would this appear to Kalvan and Rylla? Would they think him a traitor to Hostigos, coming home with a title and empty hands? Yet, it was his devotion to Allfather Dralm that had won these accolades. He would take their punishment and recriminations; his duty was to a higher master. Praise Dralm, they would understand in time. And, if Kalvan were truly Dralm's chosen one, he would make his presence known to all men. If not, he had made the right decision.
TWELVE
Kalvan stopped writing with his quill pen, set it aside and began to massage his temples. He stood up, stretched and walked over to a narrow castle slit, where he watched the First Royal Regiment of Foot practicing their musket drill in the outer courtyard. The musketeers formed ranks, assumed positions—with the first ranks dropping down to their knees—and 'fired.' Had they been really firing the noise would have been loud enough to wake baby Demia, but these dry runs were essential for teaching the musketeers shot discipline.
Kalvan's study was on the third and top floor of Tarr-Hostigos, along with the Royal bedchambers, the Royal nursery, the solar, and the upper chamber, which acted as the Royal Army's Chief-of-Staff operations room and meeting hall. The second floor contained the dining hall, Prince Ptosphes's quarters, the guardroom, the common hall, and the Great King's audience chamber. The first and largest floor held the Great Hall, the kitchen, the servants quarters, and the Royal Armory.
From the third story, Kalvan could see the First Regimental colors, a red flag with a blue square containing the royal double-headed gold ax in the upper left-hand corner. The officers and their guards were outfitted with red plumes, while the enlisted men wore red sashes over their breastplates or leather jacks. Kalvan had done away with the blue sashes they had worn last spring since they were too hard to see from a distance. Set off, against leather jacks and dark woolen shirts, the dark blue sashes and plumes had blended in too well with the uniforms, adding to the ever-present fog of war. These red sashes could be seen three fields away by a one-eyed bull.
A year ago Kalvan had seriously thought of using his own colors, maroon and green, for the
Royal Army until Rylla had made a convincing case for sticking with the traditional Hostigi colors of red and blue. Now only his bodyguards, King Kalvan's Lifeguard and the First and Second Royal Horseguard, used his flag—a maroon keystone on a green field—and colors. He knew that these small details might appear trivial to the non-military mind, but to an army on the march, with dozens of distinct flags and banners, it might well mean the difference between fighting its own advance guard, and reconnoitering the enemy before they came within artillery range.
At this height the standard Royal Army battalion, consisting of two one hundred and ten men companies, and a small headquarters unit, appeared awfully small. These undersized battalions had also been difficult to maneuver enmasse. Now was probably the time to double the battalion strength, by adding two additional companies of shot. This would then make each 'New Model' battalion almost the same strength as last year's regiment and with twice the number of arquebusiers, since he planned to convert all the pikemen in the Royal Army to shot weapons. That should put a bee in Grand Master Soton's burgonet.
This would give the Royal Hostigi Army the advantage of concentrated firepower without depriving it of the flexibility of small unit movement, since each company would still have its own sergeant, or petty captain—he was still working on getting the new titles accepted—and chain of command. Note: Make a New Model' army more along the lines of Gustavus Adolphus than Maurice of Nassau. Then, if they were facing tercio-sized units, like the Hos-Ktemnos Sacred Squares, he could form up two or three of his New Model regiments into Gustavus's famous 'Swedish Brigades.'
The Royal Army of Hos-Hostigos was growing faster than Styphon's temple bureaucracy at the Holy City of Balph. Thousands of new recruits, many of them captured mercenaries from the spring campaigns, were swelling its ranks. Now as winter approached, thousands of free lances, from all over the Trygath and Northern Kingdoms were arriving daily, eager to sell their services to a Great King who paid them year around rather than only during the campaigning season. Another of Gustavus's innovations that Styphon's House was sure to pick up on once they realized the great mercenary leak into Hostigos had grown from a trickle to a stream.
The net result was that Kalvan needed a new source of income; by Dralm's Beard, make that several sources. The Royal Treasury was still making vast sums selling excess Hostigi fireseed, mostly to Hos-Agrysi Princes, but soon most of the Hostigi production would have to go into powder depots for next spring's invasion of Hos-Harphax. Kalvan had already spent over half the gold looted during last year's campaign from Styphon's temples in the Harphaxi princedoms' of Dazour, Balkron, Ark-los, and western Syriphlon—almost two hundred thousand ounces of gold and six times as much of silver!
At this rate, not even Prince Balthar's Great Hoard, taken after the Siege of Tarr-Beshta last year, would last more than another year or two. There were times when Kalvan wondered if he were the Great King or Great Robber Baron of Hos-Hostigos. They were definitely living on borrowed time, and borrowed income as well. Eventually, there would have to be an accounting. The cost of year-around mobilization was forcing him into war as much as Styphon's Holy Crusade; even if Styphon's House was to sue for peace, he would still have to go on the offensive or risk demobilization. He hoped no one in the Inner Circle was smart enough to come up with a here-and-now version of the Cold War!
When it came to cash reserves, Styphon's House held a full deck; they owned most of the great banking houses. This was why he had taken the here-and-now unprecedented move of attempting to corner the market on all the uncommitted mercenaries in the Six Kingdoms by promising the unprecedented offer of year-around wages. This had opened the floodgates; mercenaries of every stripe had poured into Hos-Hostigos from every part of the Six Kingdoms, and the Middle Kingdoms as well.
In order to understand the here-and-now history of mercenary troops, Kalvan had spent the last year, going over old records and histories. The original Zarthani settlers had moved by boat down the Great Lakes, or Saltless Seas as they were called here-and-now, to the Niagara River, where they were halted by Niagara Falls . Here, the migratory wave split up into three different rivers, one landing at the natural harbor at Ulthor (Erie, Pennsylvania); the second going ashore in upstate New York, moving down the Mohawk and Hudson Rivers to New York Harbor where they founded Agrys City; the third portaged Niagara Falls and moved down the Saint Lawrence, founding Zygros City at the site of Quebec.
The Ulthori branch portaged to the Allegheny River, went down the Allegheny, using one of the short portages to the tributaries of the Harph (the west branch of the Susquehanna River). Since the Zarthani had metal tools, they could build bigger and better boats than the Ruthani, or Native American Indians, could even though they had little or no natural advantage over the Ruthani in woodcraft. Therefore, the early Zarthani settlers kept to the river valleys as much as possible until they reached salt water at the mouth of the Harph where they founded HarphaxTown, which later became Harphax City.
Harphax Town may have originated as a fishing village, but it quickly became a naval base, since a fleet of Great Lake galleys based there could drive the Ruthani canoes off Chesapeake Bay and dominate all of Tidewater Virginia . Isolated from the rest of the major landmass by Zarthani boats and a line of fortifications roughly along otherwhen Chesapeake and Delaware Canal, the Ruthani in the Delmarva Peninsula were soon exterminated.
The Ulthori Zarthani left the western shore of the Chesapeake alone, since the Ruthani there could retreat into the Piedmont, safe from Zarthani naval vessels, and make raids into the Tidewater. So the Zarthani proceeded to colonize the flat land of the Delmarva Peninsula. Within a few years they began producing a surplus of corn, which meant for the first time the settlers in the Harph Valley were something more than subsistence farmers in a perpetual combat zone. Later a second wave of Zarthani migrants moved down the Harph to Delmarva, this population increase meant more farming, hence more food in storage, more ship and wagon building, and more young men to be soldiers. The result was that sizeable Zarthani armies, with the infrastructure to support them, were now available to carry the war to the Iroquois.
Erasthames the Great was not so much a Napoleon as a Carnot who could organize the Chesapeake watershed into a war machine that could grind down the Ruthani by sheer staying power when it couldn't beat them in battle. Erasthames did not resort to conscription. Instead he levied heavy taxes on farms and boat and wagon operators, using the proceeds to pay soldiers. Eventually, he had a large supply of mercenary soldiers, which meant that the profession of mercenary, at least in the Northern Kingdoms, became an honorable profession, if only because so many sons spent a year or so at it. Undoubtedly, Erasthames the Great had lavishly subsidized the priests of Galzar. By the end of the Ruthani wars the profession of mercenary was not just honorable—it was traditional.
The shipyards of Harphax City had a boom time from the beginning, producing first war galleys, then small merchant vessels to carry settlers into the Chesapeake and north, then coastal vessels to trade with the Carolinas. Harphax City turned into a prosperous seaport. In a few generations the ship builders and ship owners and ship captains turned into shipping magnates and became considerably wealthier than the upstream boat and wagon train operators. This meant that Harphax City, and likewise Agrys and Zygros Cities, developed the economic muscle to dominate their upstream relatives and before long the oligarchies/monarchs of the seaports began to throw their weight around upstream, if for nothing else, to protect and encourage their trade routes back to Lake Erie and Grefftscharr.
So it was the seaport city eventually became the capital of a Great Kingdom, whose unity was more economic than political. As long as an upstream Prince behaved himself and paid appropriate tribute—while above all keeping the trade route running smoothly—the seaport kings had no problem with letting him do as he pleased. Styphon's House didn't invent this local autonomy; it merely encouraged it to keep the political power of the Great King low and the
fireseed burning.
Kalvan's discussion with Skranga and Harmakros about conquering Hos-Harphax and placing Phrames in the throne was more than just talk. If the Great Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos were to have good trade relations with the rest of the Five Kingdoms, it was imperative they either made friends with Hos-Harphax or beat-her-up militarily and install a friendly King—the latter being the easier of the two possibilities if Lysandros were crowned Great King. The merchants of Hostigos hadn't yet begun to riot in the streets; they were too busy dealing with the smugglers who were anxious to share some of the Hos-Hostigi Styphon's House temple loot. When that treasure ran out, Hos-Hostigos would begin to look like Spain in the Eighteenth Century, when the South American and Mexican gold and silver mines began to peter out. Already inflation had halved the value of the Royal Hostigos Crown in one year.
There was much more to being a Great King than winning battles and robbing temples—the latter, thankfully profitable work!
Kalvan heard the door open and turned to see Rylla, dressed in a gorgeous blue gown, walk inside. For a moment, he sat transfixed—Rylla looked every inch a queen, in fact, in that outfit she reminded him of Princess Grace of Monaco, with a sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks and a well-turned nose. Being married to Rylla was the best part of being Great King of Hos-Hostigos. If Styphon's House would only leave them alone, he'd be content to play consort for the rest of his days.
"Did I disturb you, darling?" Rylla asked, coming into the study.
"No, my love. I'm just going over the muster roles of this year's recruits for the Royal Army." Kalvan gently laid the piece of tan, crumbling-at-the-edges paper on the silver tray and pushed the tray across the table toward Rylla. "Try picking it up and reading it. If it starts to fall apart, leave it on the tray and read it there."
"After all this time, I'd almost stopped believing… And if I can't read it?"