by John F. Carr
The village straggled along the hilltop like an ill-tended flock of sheep. Since most of it was burning, the smoke veiled the whole right wing of the Hostigi from Phaxosi eyes. As he passed the first farmhouse, Xykos realized that this might also be shielding the enemy from Hostigi eyes. So that was why the Queen has asked for a regiment! She wanted to not only find out what the Phaxosi might be up to, but also to stop them if it was dangerous.
With thirty Beefeaters, all Xykos could do was learn the lay of the land and hope he'd live long enough to tell the Queen. Smoke swirled up from a burning pigsty, hiding two of his men. A shot exploded from the pigsty, and one of the two staggered back into sight, holding his stomach. Another shot, a scream from the sty, and the sound of running feet. Two men in the black and green colors of Phaxos dashed out of the sty, heading for the far side of the village.
Half a dozen pistols cracked; one Phaxosi threw up his hands and fell. The other seemed to bear a charmed life, until Xykos leveled his musketoon. The small shot made the man leap and stumble. Before he could get back on his feet Xykos was on top of him, wrestling him into submission as if he were a child.
"What do you hear, man?" Xykos shouted.
"Oath of Galzar—" began the man.
"You're no mercenary! You'll guest at Regwarn without your manhood, if you don't speak up!" Xykos motioned to one of his men, who drew a poniard.
"We're picketing the village, to warn of any Hostigi movement around the flank," the man gasped.
"And the rest of your army?"
"I can't say—"
"Tythos, just a small cut."Tythos sliced the soldier's breeches from groin to waist; then smiled like a man who enjoys his work.
"No! Mercy—I'll talk. We're shifting round, to hit you in the flank when the rear comes up."
"Hoho."
That made sense, from what the Queen had said. She'd wondered aloud why the Phaxosi had let Sarrask drive in their scouts and fight their vanguard in a simple old-fashioned headbutting kind of battle. Prince Araxes or one of his captains had guessed one of the Great King's tricks—be one place to draw your enemy in, and then be strong somewhere else to attack him.
Well, they would soon learn that Great Queens as well as Great Kings knew the new way of fighting.
"Tythos, take this fool back to the Queen, privy parts and all. Let him tell her what he's told us, then take his Oath to Galzar. Take a couple of—"
Xykos broke off, as the gap between two burning houses appeared to sprout Phaxosi. The pickets' friends had arrived, probably called by the shooting. They were waving swords and running straight toward his small command.
"Run, Tythos! Forget the prisoner! Bodyguards, cold steel!" Xykos had seen that none of the Phaxosi had drawn their pistols, but all had drawn their swords and daggers.
By Galzar's grace, both friend and foe had left Xykos room to draw Boarsbane. The great sword rasped from its scabbard and leaped through the smoky air. It cut under one man's helmet and took his head from his shoulders before he knew an enemy was in striking distance. Another man lost an arm, a third the use of a leg.
"It's one of Kalvan's demons!" a Phaxosi screamed.
This threw the whole band into confusion, then into retreat. Xykos shifted Boarsbane to his left hand and brought down one of the fugitives with a pistol shot.
"Fire!" he shouted. If the men got away, they would give far more warning to the Phaxosi commanders than the sound of shooting.
Xykos emptied his other pistol, saw that some of the Phaxosi were going to get away, and broke into a run after them. Suddenly hoof beats swelled behind him, and he was shouldered aside by one of the mounted Lifeguard. He reeled against a smoldering wall, jumped back as an ember seared his cheek, and turned to see Queen Rylla leading her Mounted Lifeguard out the other side of the village.
So much for Great Queen's promises!
To do her justice, Rylla was back, bloody saber resting across the pommel of her saddle, in hardly more than a few breaths. Without even looking at Xykos, she ordered two mounted men to ride back and bring up the First Royal Carbineers.
Then she seemed to notice Xykos for the first time. "Well done, Captain, and for the twentieth time."
"Boarsbane seems to bring me luck, Your Majesty."
"And you hope some of it rubs off on me?"
"Well…"
"Never mind. The Phaxosi are moving up on the right, but they haven't joined up their flankers to their main body. We push both regiments into the gap, and we can catch the flankers before they deploy."
"Two regiments?"
"Kalvan taught me that even one regiment in time can do more than ten regiments an hour late. If Sarrask can just hold the Phaxosi by the nose while I kick them in the pants, we've won the battle."
Xykos nodded and began searching one of the dead Phaxosi for something to wipe Boarsbane. When the blade was clean, he started to sprint towards his horse, which had wandered away from the fighting. He knew that the Great Queen was a fine captain. Now he prayed that she was also a good prophet.
II
Half of Phaxos Town had already looked as if the Hostigi had already sacked the town and stripped it of loot, but Prince Araxes royal chambers looked as if he were set to receive a friendly visit from some distant overlord. Captain-General Oroblon followed the Palace seneschal to the Prince's throne. One of Styphon's yellow-robed Highpriests was chattering in Araxes' ear. Probably trying to arrange a guard company so they could take the Temple gold out of the town before Kalvan's demons arrived, not that Oroblon could blame him. The Styphoni had spent enough rearming the Prince's army and shoring up Tarr-Phaxos' walls to send the local economy soaring—but not for long.
"What are you doing here, Captain-General? And where is my army?" Araxes' voice came out more as a screech than the usual modulated voice of command.
"We've lost two battles in twice as many days. The army is in full retreat to Tarr-Phaxos."
"You brought the army here! Oroblon, I'm paying you and them to keep the Hostigi out of here!"
"We have no other place to go. If we have the gods favor, we'll be able to hold them outside the town walls until the Royal Army arrives."
Prince Araxes shook his head as though he'd just learned his favorite concubine had died. "The Royal Army of Hos-Harphax is not coming. I just received a letter from Prince Lysandros."
Captain-General Oroblon felt as if he'd just been gut-shot. "What? Why?"
Prince Araxes stretched out his hands imploringly. "Lysandros blames me for all this!"
The Highpriest rose up and said sanctimoniously, "You should have never made overtures to the Usurper!"
"SHUT UP! And forget any bodyguards from me, you son-of-a-motherless sow. I hear Kalvan shoots your kind out of cannons."
The highpriest turned white and fled the room. One of the Prince's bodyguards started off after him, but Araxes motioned him to halt. "He won't go far. Already the townspeople are taking Styphon's priests hostage, thinking they can use them to barter for their freedom when the walls fall. Sometimes the Styphoni forget just how far from Balph they are."
"I'll put my men to shoring up the town walls. I suggest you take your valuables to the keep in Tarr-Phaxos."
"Will the town walls hold, Captain-General?"
"For a few days. The Hostigi carry their own guns and when they go to work these old walls won't last long. Tarr-Phaxos will be a tougher nut to crack."
"Best we sue for peace, then?"
"I don't think it will do any good. If it were King Kalvan, maybe. But that wife of his has blood in her eye."
"You mean you were defeated by a woman?"
Oroblon tried to keep his racing blood in check. If he had any brains, he'd take his pistol out of his sash and drop Araxes where he sat. Then take what remained of his army and join up with Captain-General Phide-stros. However, Araxes still held his oath; Galzar had no patience with oath-breakers. Furthermore, it was difficult to turn his back on the man who'd made him Captain-Ge
neral of his army—even if he was a back-stabbing dog. "I was defeated by Prince Sarrask, and Great Queen Rylla of Hos-Hostigos, who is the equal of any man I've ever met and then some. From what I've heard, she has even less patience with oath-breakers than the priests of the Wargod."
Prince Araxes slumped down in his throne like a man forsaken by his own self and all others. As far as Oroblon could tell, that was pretty close to the truth. He might even have been tempted to feel sorry for the Prince had he himself not been caught in the web that Araxes had tried to spin.
III
Queen Rylla unconsciously banged her fists on the saddles pommel. She wanted to be at the walls of Tarr-Phaxos, but she was not 'allowed' to be in the vanguard by all her many protectors—sometimes it felt as if the entire Army of Hostigos was in league with Kalvan to keep her 'safe,'—from Prince Sarrask to her bodyguard, Xykos. However, of one thing she was sure: they would all be busy elsewhere when her husband returned from the Sastragath! Kalvan's most recent dispatch told of the combined Hostigos and Rathon defeat of the nomads and the alliance with the Warlord Ranjar Sargos, which had followed. Now the newly formed allies were joined together against Great Master Soton. She wondered how many more moons this campaign would encompass.
Rylla heard the familiar bellow of Prince Sarrask as he forced his way through the tightly packed horses. She called a halt and waited for him to come forward.
"Queen Rylla, I just received word from one of our intelligencers that the Styphoni butt-kissing Harphaxi Army has left Harphax City and is moving toward Phaxos. The Prince of Thaphigos has already called out his Army, about two thousand horse and half as many foot. The Thaphigosi will wait for the Royal Army, but we'll be out of Phaxos before they reach the border—the cowardly swine."
"Just as I predicted," Rylla said, trying to keep the I-told-you-so tone out of her voice. "Captain-General Phidestros doesn't want to risk another beating by the Army of Hos-Hostigos. Besides, he has a hundred and fifty miles of bad roads and more ridges to pass over than Xentos has wrinkles. I suspect he'll take his time, as well. Phidestros is only bringing out the Royal Army to prove to his Prince's already shaken vassals that they are alive and possibly useful in a fight. He almost has to after the humiliation of Chothros Heights."
Sarrask licked his lips, "Har, that were some arse-kicking! Almost as much fun as we've had with this sorry bunch of Phaxosi halfwits."
"If Phidestros had twice as many troops, I might take his army seriously. I've half a mind to go into Thaphigos, after we finish with Araxes and give Phidestros a good thrashing, too."
"Please! Your Majesty," Sarrask cried out. "There'll be enough explaining to do when Great King Kalvan returns. Let's not present him with an all out war with Hos-Harphax!"
"If I had Phrames support, there wouldn't be another war by the time my husband returned, but a conquest! I know that if Phrames marched into Thaphigos in a moon quarter we could catch the Royal Harphaxi army flat-footed, encircle it and crush the Harphaxi completely. Then our combined forces could march straight into Harphax City with nothing to stop us but Phidestros' camp followers!"
Sarrask shook his head wearily, as if he'd heard this argument one too many times. "You have my support, Queen Rylla. But without Phrames help we are facing an uphill run. It will take us at least another moon half to besiege Tarr-Phaxos and the countryside. While we're busy fighting here, everyday more troops flock to the Harphaxi Army. Not enough to embolden Phidestros to march into Phaxos, since then Phrames would have to come to our aid. No, what we have here is a stalemate. But be content; we have won two glorious battles with minimal casualties. Even Kalvan will be impressed."
"I hope so," Rylla said, as much to convince herself as Prince Sarrask. "I, however, am convinced we are making a terrible mistake by not conquering Hos-Harphax before they have a chance to recover from the beating they took last fall. Phrames, I could wring his neck—"
"Your Majesty! Phrames is one of the throne's most loyal paladins. He is faithfully following his Great King's orders. It's unfortunate that they disagree with yours, but he is not being disloyal. Too cautious, aye, but not disloyal."
Rylla had to keep from breaking out in a grin. The idea of Sarrask defending Prince Phrames caution was like hearing a Styphon's House highpriest praise Dralm. A miracle brought about by her husband, so wise in many ways and so thickheaded in others.
"I do have some good news. They've brought up one of the mobile batteries so we should be able to fire the first shots into Tarr-Phaxos."
Rylla smiled happily. With the Wargod's blessing, they should have Tarr-Phaxos invested and broken within a quarter moon. Then her retribution against Prince Araxes and his family could begin. After the example she set here, no mere prince would ever dare embarrass the throne of Hos-Hostigos again, by Galzar's teeth!
IV
Captain-General Phidestros stalked around the perimeter of the camp. He couldn't sit still, not knowing that the Hostigos Army was so close—yet so far away. It was his duty to repel and punish invaders within Hos-Harphax and, yet, here he stood with his shell-army all around him unable to do anything but fume. And worst of all; he was being bearded by a woman! True, not any woman, but Great Queen Rylla of Hos-Hostigos. A battling beauty he'd like to tame himself. Still, she was a woman who commanded an army that demanded respect, but was giving him disrespect.
Phidestros heard some rustling and turned to see Archpriest Grythos, the Styphon's House observer sent to report to the Temple about the Hostigi invasion. Grythos, a former Knight Commander with the Zarthani Knights, was a surprisingly good choice. He understood military realities and why Phidestros was forced to sit and wring his hands, while Phaxos Town burned. As a Knight Commander he served in the Temple as a Styphon's House Archpriest—so he was aware of Balph politics. He was even apologetic about his role as official spy.
Phidestros on more than one occasion had found himself confiding in Grythos and even once or twice asking his advice. Grythos was a tall, bald-headed man with a mustache and no beard. His hair was mostly silver and he walked with a pronounced limp.
In the distance, Phidestros could see an orange halo that marked the burning town. "I can't tell you how much it vexes me to stay here and watch Phaxos Town burn!"
"It has been sacked for a moon quarter, I'm surprised the Hostigi found anything left to burn. When you return to Harphax City, many voices will say you should have attacked the Usurper's army. If they were here and saw the rank and file, there would be no questions."
Phidestros nodded. He was not anxious to return to Harphax City to tell First Prince Lysandros about the Hostigi Army's successful siege of Phaxos Town , only three days of shelling and the walls came tumbling down! It appeared that Tarr-Phaxos, which had been besieged for over a moon quarter, would fall soon, thanks to those mobile batteries of Kalvan's. He needed lots of them for his own army. Maybe it was time for another talk with Kyblannos.
"Captain Geblon, find Grand-Captain Kyblannos for me and bring him here. Some scouts captured some Hostigi gunners today and I know he'll be somewhere nearby." One of the Hostigi mobile guns had lost a wheel and some of the gunners had stayed behind to fix it. When the Harphaxi scouts found them, shots were fired. Three of the gunners had died protecting their gun; two of the gunners were badly wounded and wouldn't finish the night. The remaining artilleryman had been temporarily knocked out and was under heavy guard.
"Aye, Captain-General." Geblon, Captain of Phidestros' former Iron Company, of course, passed Phidestros' order on to a petty captain.
"Who is Grand-Captain Kyblannos?" the Archpriest asked. "I thought I'd met all your officers."
"Captain Kyblannos is a different kind of officer. He's not at all ambitious and would rather spend his time with the wainwrights and artillerymen than his fellow officers. But he's the best captain I've ever worked with and the soldier who is working on giving the Royal Army its own mobile batteries."
Archpriest Grythos shook his head. "What does a so
ldier know about wagons and mobile batteries?
"Kyblannos is no ordinary soldier. He'll tell you he's a wainwright, not a soldier, but actually he is both. He was a former wainwright, who was apprenticed to his widowed father's wagon-building shop in a crossroads village in Hos-Agrys. After a revolt against the local prince, an army came through and burned their village down. Kyblannos and his father ended up tagging along with the army as camp followers—a couple of wainwrights are always welcome in any army. The infantry may march on their feet, but their food marches in wagons.
"His father died on the campaign, but Kyblannos stayed on. When the war was over he found that his village hadn't been rebuilt and all his friends were dead or scattered. With nothing better to do, Kyblannos stayed with the soldiers. He drifted from one army to another as a career camp follower. Yes, even trollops need wagons fixed."
The Archpriest grinned, a most un-Archpriestly smile.
"Over the years, Kyblannos tried his hand at a variety of military things. He was a gunner in several armies, a quartermaster, a paymaster once, marched with the infantry, rode with the cavalry, became a petty captain of cavalry at least twice. One of those times, the company commander was wounded and Kyblannos took over as captain. Then, when the real captain recovered, Kyblannos to everyone's surprise turned the company back over to him. He just didn't want to go into business for himself as a mercenary captain."
Phidestros laughed. "I can sympathize. Still, over the next moon half the company deserted. It seems Kyblannos was a much better commander than the captain he substituted for."
"Many the times…" the Archpriest said, nodding his head.
"Eventually Kyblannos ended up with the Sask army at the Battle of Fyk. After the battle, while the Iron Company was sacking the Saski baggage camp, Geblon and half a dozen troopers found him sitting on the seat of an army wagon, doing some repairs to the reins. One of the troopers grabbed a chest that turned out to be Kyblannos' toolbox."