by John F. Carr
There was a knock on the door.
"Yes!"
Cleon stuck his gray head into their private chambers. "General Hestophes here to see Your Majesties."
"Tell him to come in."
Captain-General Hestophes was still dressed in soaking wet traveling leathers and smelled like horse. Kalvan and Rylla let him sit by the hearth, while they returned to their chairs.
Kalvan held aloft the first glass bottle of Ermut's Best. "Would you like a drink?"
"Yes! But only if Your Majesties drink with me." Cleon brought fresh goblets and topped them.
"How was your journey?"
"Slow, wet, and miserable, Your Majesties. A raft would have been faster than my horse."
After more pleasantries, Kalvan asked, "What is the situation at Tarr-Locra?"
"Prince Phrames arrived to relieve me of my command, as ordered. Morale was high considering that the Grand Host has started its advance from Tarr-Veblos."
"Tarr-Veblos! What did you say?" Kalvan rose to his feet without a thought, while Rylla appeared to be searching her gown for a sword. That Hestophes was known for understatement only made his announcement that much more astounding. "When did this happen? Why wasn't I notified by semaphore?"
"You don't know? Why I've sent a dozen messages. Your orders were that I was relieved of command and should return to Tarr-Hostigos."
"No such message was ever sent from Us, or from Tarr-Hostigos. I know nothing about the invasion of Beshta."
Hestophes lowered himself into a chair and dropped his head into his hands.
Rylla shook her head along with Kalvan's. They'd been snookered. Somehow Phidestros had learned about the semaphore stations-where or how he'd have to learn quickly.
"Hestophes, it's worse than you think. For the past week all the semaphore messages received at Tarr-Hostigos have been phonies, saying that the Styphoni forces were gathering to besiege Tarr-Locra." The reason Kalvan had spent so much of his precious Beshtan resources building the massive fortifications at Tarr-Locra was that the fort blocked the eastern entrance, from Hos-Harphax, into the west bank of the Harph to the Besh and then up the Besh Valley. The Styphoni had to take Tarr-Locra to reach the Harph River, or else they would have to enter Hos-Hostigos the rough way, through the mountains of Beshta and Sashta, the route Soton had taken to the Phyrax battlefield two years ago.
Tarr-Locra was a tough nut to crack and could hold out for moons; if Phidestros had realized that and just put a token force there, he could have easily hit Beshta unaware from Tarr-Veblos, with only Prince Phrames and his Besthan Army to block him. Meanwhile, the Army of Observation was sitting on its thumbs guarding Tarr-Locra from a detached force, while Phidestros was advancing through Sashta and Sask toward Hostigos. It was a brilliant plan, Kalvan marveled, worthy of the man who made the legendary mad ride to join the Holy Host after Chothros Heights.
"Your Majesties, I thought you knew. A large portion of the Grand Host entered Beshtan territory about a quarter-moon ago. I thought this was why I had been recalled to Hostigos Town. I was about to tender my resignation."
"No. You were recalled because Harmakros' wounds have not improved. His leg is still infected with fester devils so he will not be able to ride or lead the army. I needed you here to take over as Grand Captain-General of the Royal Army."
Hestophes' eyes grew wide. "Me! Why not Prince Phrames or someone of noble blood?"
"Because you are the best man for the job. Phrames has his own duties as Prince of Beshta. Ptosphes is needed as First Prince of Hos-Hostigos. There are no others but my wife. And she is needed to care for our child."
Kalvan was just glad he was out of elbow distance when he made that last statement. As it was, he got the grandmother of all dirty looks.
"We have agreed that you are the best man for the job," Rylla added. "You have Our faith."
Hestophes bowed his head and when he looked up again there was a steely look of determination on his face. "I will not fail Your Majesties. This is a post to which I never dreamed to ascend. I give you my life."
"That will not be necessary, Hestophes. Just fight to the best of your ability. No one expects miracles. Although if Father Dralm should strike the entire Styphoni Grand Host with the pox We would build him the greatest Temple ever seen!"
Rylla let forth an exaggerated sigh. "Allfather Dralm, he does not mean these words."
"Now, tell us more about the invasion of Beshta."
"Yes, Your Majesty. The weather along the border has been unseasonably good and at first, when the Styphoni advanced, we thought it was another feint by the Grand Host to test our resolve. Our light cavalry have been attacking their scouts and supply trains all winter.
"When they easily repulsed our first attacks, I began to realize the entire host was on the move. That is when I sent the first message to warn Your Majesty. Despite the mud and rain of the past three days, the Grand Host has advanced quickly and has taken most of our border forts and two tarrs. They have many large siege guns with huge crews to man them and captured Beshtans to move them into position."
"Already, they take revenge upon Our people," Kalvan said through pursed lips, as he saw hundreds of captives using ropes and pulleys to manhandle the massive two hundred pound bombards up and down hills. While this tactic might save a few teams of horses for other chores, it wasn't really cost-effective-more a terror tactic. It forced the Hostigi defenders to fire upon their own people, or take fire from these huge guns.
"Worse than revenge, Your Majesty. Archpriest Roxthar, the Holy Investigator, is Investigating all captured Hos-Hostigi. I am told that those who immediately recant their faith in Dralm are allowed to haul the guns. The rest, including women and children, are best not seen again."
"How do you know?"
"My men captured a small party of Investigators and their victims. All the poor wretches were mercifully put to death at my order. The Investigators were taken to Tarr-Locra, put into the large guns, and shot over the walls."
The haunted look of horror that crossed Hestophes' face made Kalvan burn with fury. "Here we were planning our attack, while they bring the war to us. Now it is my duty as Great King to bring it to them!"
"But Kalvan," Rylla said. "If we move now, we are but marching to Phidestros and Soton's tune. Let us wait and meet them in Hostigos, after Phrames has drawn their blood."
Like most Zarthani who had never known wars of religion, Rylla had no idea of how zealots could scour a land of its people. For example, King Henry's armies had killed tens of thousands of Huguenots, including women and children, in their desire to rid France of Protestant heresy. "No, we cannot wait. With Roxthar's Investigation leading the Grand Host, there will be no people to rule even if we win the war. We had a General Sherman in my homeland who burned the land to the ground, and he was a man of peace in comparison to this bloody butcher who calls himself an Investigator."
"You are more knowledgeable in matters of war, my husband, than I myself. However, let us wait at least until the roads are no longer running like rivers."
Rylla was right. To march the army in this weather would leave it weakened and scattered long before they reached the enemy. "We will wait until the rain has stopped. Then we must leave. When we learned that Lysandros had promised Captain-General Phidestros the Princedoms of Beshta and Sashta, I had hoped the Captain-General's self-interest would protect our people. Now I see behind King Lysandros' generosity. Give Phidestros lots of land, but turn it into a desert before he gets it."
"I fear you are right, my husband. In any case, Phidestros will be too busy worrying over his soldiers to protect civilians he may or may not one day rule. You are right in this thing too: without our people, we have no Kingdom."
And I have brought to this fair land that which I had most hoped to leave behind, a religious war. One that may quickly prove to be as bad, if not worse, than those of my own world.
II
Phidestros cursed the fog, the drizzling rain, the mud and the
weather goddess all in one sentence as his horse plunged up to her fetlocks in what had looked to be firm ground. Some of the mud splashed on his gilded armor and he cursed all customs which required army commanders to wear equipment more suited to a pavane in Harphax City than a march across hostile terrain. Not that his mud-splattered armor and red and yellow plumage looked all that glamorous at the present moment.
A petty-captain reined up next to him. "The Grand Master's temporary headquarters is close. I will ride ahead and let him know you are arriving."
Phidestros nodded his approval. The temporary headquarters were not too grand, a confiscated farmhouse, but he hoped it would be dry and heated by a roaring fire. The first units of Kalvan's van had been spotted earlier in the day and a council of the Grand Host's commanders was needed.
Phidestros' horse stumbled again, almost pitching him head first into the mud. He tightened his grip on the pommel and let loose a litany of curses so vile his bodyguards gave off a cheer when he was finished.
So legends are made, he thought wryly. If the truth were known, he'd much rather be commanding the Iron Band and searching for Kalvan's outriders. This grand commander business was harder on both head and arse than honest soldiering-and a lot less fun.
At the farmhouse Phidestros was gratified to find both a roaring fire and most of the Grand Host's senior commanders. Grand Master Soton was seated at the head of the log-plank table, while on either side were the captains-general of Hos-Bletha and Hos-Ktemnos. Sitting by himself with the junior commanders at the other end of the table was Stratego Zarphu, the Ros-Zarthani commander.
Zarphu was a true enigma. He appeared to be more interested in the Grand Host's weapons and tactics than he was in Great King Kalvan's army. Phidestros had to admit with some admiration that Zarphu kept his soldiers on a short rein. Also, despite their archaic weapons, the Ros-Zarthani gave the impression of being the kind of men you would want under your command were you to try and storm Regwarn, the Caverns of the Dead. Now if only they were as good as they looked upon the battlefield… well, if they were, Kalvan had better hold onto his throne with both hands.
After touching palms, Phidestros sat opposite Soton while the generals and grand-captains scurried around for maps and oil lamps. When all were seated, he turned to General Kyblannos. "How are your guns traveling?"
Kyblannos took out his pipe. "Better than I prayed for. The two mobile batteries are keeping pace with the rearguard. We should have no trouble moving them into place, unless it's up a cliff face, within a few hours. I only wish I had more. The siege guns are about two days behind the main battle. Magal, our three-hundred pounder, is out of action for the time being. It slipped off its carriage on one of the passes and took out about a dozen wagons before it came to a halt. We should have it moving again in time to invest Tarr-Hostigos."
"Excellent!"
"How are we on provisions, Master Jomnocles?"
Jomnocles was Master Sutler of the Grand Host, a position Phidestros had created to make sure his huge army had enough to eat and wear. It was Soton who'd taught him the value of delegating authority. When commanding better than a hundred and fifty thousand men, a commander could only attend to certain affairs. He wanted to be sure those were matters dealing with strategy and military preparedness, rather than muleskinners and foraging expeditions.
"Despite this abominable weather, Grand Captain-General, we have on hand better than fourteen days' victuals, with more arriving every day. Praise Styphon and the generosity of his Archpriests! If tonight's soup is short on cabbage, you can all thank General Kyblannos' Magal. Those six wagons held half our cabbages!"
"I think we can survive the cabbage shortage, Master Jomnocles. The important question is: will we have enough victuals to reach Hostigos without running out of food?"
"Yes, if we can keep those Ros-Zarthani barbarians from eating us out of bottle and barrel!"
Stratego Zarphu shot the Master Sutler a look that left the smaller man quaking in his boots. "My men have not been getting their fair share of victuals, Captain-General Phidestros. When they do, they will no longer find hunger driving them to take what is rightfully theirs."
"Is there any truth to these charges, Jomnocles?"
"Is it my fault these barbarians eat the barrels down to the staves?"
"Do not refer to our allies as barbarians again, or I will make you chief potato peeler of the Grand Host. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Grand Captain-General, Sir."
"Good. Now see to it that our allies have their proper proportion of victuals so we will not have to put one half the Grand Host to guarding supplies from the other half. I do not want to discuss this again. If I do, it will be your head! Now, please answer the question. Do we have enough provisions to feed the Grand Host should we have to chase Kalvan over every hill and ridge in these Dralm-cursed mountains?"
Jomnocles voice trembled. "Yes, Grand-Captain General. With Styphon's ships and caravans bringing supplies from all over the Five Kingdoms, we will have all the victuals we need as soon as the roads dry up. Styphon Be Praised!"
"That was all I wanted to know."
Grand Master Soton asked, "What do we know of Hos-Hostigos?"
Phidestros nodded and a petty-captain brought up a thin aristocrat with a haughty face. "This is Baron Sthentros, kin to Ptosphes and, by marriage, to Kalvan himself. He is accompanying my headquarters and acting as my informant in matters of Hos-Hostigos."
Everyone in the farmhouse looked impressed.
"Sthentros is a believer in the God of Gods, and left Hostigos to escape the clutches of Kalvan and the idolaters of Dralm. It was through his services that we were able to spoof the Hostigi semaphores." Even Phidestros had been impressed with the Baron's guile when he returned to his castle and used his daughter to help suborn the local semaphore station. If nothing else, the Baron's aid and knowledge of the Hostigi had changed the course of the war. Although, at this point, only the gods knew if it was enough to ensure their victory. Personally, he knew the Grand Host would have fared far worse without the traitor's help.
Phidestros continued, "The Baron has offered to share everything he knows about Kalvan's army and his fortifications. Sadly, he knows less than the usual foot soldier. But his eyes have grown sharper since his last visit to Hostigos."
The other generals looked at Sthentros with growing respect. The Baron did everything but preen. As useful as this fool was, Phidestros had to resist the temptation to stick the Baron in the side with his poniard. Besides, the Investigator had taken great interest in their turncoat and was busy converting his eager student into a disciple. Phidestros vowed to keep a close eye on the Baron, since those who could convincingly mislead Rox-thar were few and far between. It was an art he had not mastered.
Baron Sthentros spent the next candle describing the roads and byways of Hostigos, including Kalvan's new Great King's Highway. He also told them about the changes in the Royal Army, which favored the common soldier at the expense of their captains, such as in terms of punishment. All the generals looked disturbed but Soton, who soaked up the Baron's words, and Phidestros, who privately agreed with Kalvan's reforms. Many were similar to the reforms he had instituted for the Royal Army of Hos-Harphax and he saw several sideways glances directed in his direction.
When Sthentros had finished, Grand Master Soton spoke up. "Captain-General, I take it you expect Kalvan to evade rather than stand and fight?"
"That's what I would do in his boots. Either that or force us to attack him where he can limit our mobility and neutralize our greater numbers."
"How do you plan to counter that?" the Grand Master asked.
"By not letting Kalvan call the shots," Phidestros answered. "First I'm going to send a large force of cavalry and mounted infantry to the north to try to outflank Kalvan's army. It will force the Usurper to divide an army that is already much smaller than our own. Plus, it will force him to march to our cadence.
"The Usurper's men know
these mountains and hills as well as they know their privy parts. They also know, thanks to Archpriest Roxthar, that it is a fight to the death. Under these conditions and on their terrain, they will try to bleed the Grand Host until it is one big bloated corpse. What I want to do is play Kalvan's game, let him lead us on a merry chase through the Pyromannes. Then we will feign exhaustion and when Kalvan is lulled, we will make a forced march and make him fight or run."
"It might work… But will our own men be disheartened by not coming to grips with Kalvan's army?"
"We will feed them well and half-march them. Keep them busy enough looting and foraging so they don't have time for trouble or talk, but rested enough so they can give Kalvan their best. Kalvan cannot afford to let us march over his lands forever. Every rod of Hos-Hostigos we take hurts him and his cause. If we chase him long enough, we will be in the Princedom of Hostigos and he will have no choice but to fight."
"An excellent case, Phidestros," Soton replied. "You have taken time to study the man as well as the army. Kalvan, if the truth be spoken, is an honorable man."
There was an audible gasp of breath at this heretical notion, but no one there was about to upbraid Grand Master Soton in his own headquarters. Phidestros was most glad that Roxthar was not present to overhear these words.
"Despite all words to the contrary, a study of Kalvan's actions since he has been in Hostigos will bear this out. Because he does care so much-possibly too much-for his subjects and their welfare, he cannot stand by and watch them suffer or be destroyed. This is his greatest vulnerability, one that our Grand Captain-General is attempting to use against him. You young Generals and Grand-Captains, pay attention here; this is how wars are won!"
Phidestros nodded to Soton, somewhat taken aback by his uncharacteristic praise.
"Remember, this war against Kalvan is a new kind of war. A war not only against Kalvan, but Hos-Hostigos as well. We must not rest easy because a battle or a siege is won. This war is not over until Kalvan and every member of his court is defeated and destroyed."