by John F. Carr
"Let us hope so," Xentos said. "This is good news, Your Majesty. With paper to spread the word of Dralm's truth to the world, Styphon's House has just lost another battle. I met Brother Mytron-I mean Rector Mytron-in the Great Hall and wondered what had brought him here at night in such a hurry. He smiled and said it was the Great King's secret. He was carrying something in a large saddlebag and he still had the dust of his journey on his cloak."
"Is it another batch of paper for you to examine?"
"Indeed it is, but I have no secrets from you, Xentos." Praise Dralm this stays the truth, and also that Mytron doesn't put his foot in his mouth again. Had the younger priest really decided to change his loyalties from Dralm to Kalvan, or was he simply getting carried away with the thrill of scientific discovery? He'd have a talk with Mytron to find out where his true loyalties rested.
"I am sure of that, Your Majesty, and likewise that Mytron has the wisdom to know how to serve both the Great God and his Great King. May it always be so."
Kalvan murmured a politely pious agreement, mostly to keep Rylla from saying anything. Several moons with his fellow highpriests at the Council had brought out a new side of Xentos personality, one that Kalvan wasn't sure he liked. Rylla's face showed more than her normal dislike of verbal fencing. He put a hand on her shoulder and after a moment felt her relax.
"I do have a complaint about the way you have been feeding Mytron. He appears to have lost weight since my leave taking. Is the kingdom still rationing food to prepare for the winter?"
"No. We had an excellent harvest and have bought additional stores from Hos-Agrys and Ulthor."
At this point Aspasthar returned with the pewter goblets, and they all drank toasts to the papermakers of Hostigos-about as neutral a toast as Kalvan could come up with under the circumstances.
Xentos set his cup down after one swallow and said, "I wish that I could have come to bring good news as well as to hear it. Dralm has willed otherwise. Great King Kaiphranos of Hos-Harphax is dead."
"We know," Kalvan said. "Duke Skranga informed us of Kaiphranos's death a moon quarter ago."
Xentos wrinkled his nose as if he'd just had a whiff of a particularly bad odor.
Kalvan said nothing. He'd exhausted his supply of polite pieties. Rylla poured herself another goblet of wine and took a healthy swig, then grinned. "Kaiphranos was dead long ago, if he ever lived."
"That is unseemly said-" Xentos began, then sighed and sipped his wine. "That is unseemly," he continued, "but it is also true. Kaiphranos had few gifts for kingship, and those few he lost many years ago. When his eldest son died there was not much left of even the man." He circled his breast-star again and seemed lost in thought.
"Prince Selestros is Kaiphranos's only surviving son," Rylla amended. "I don't think Kaiphranos had enough blood in him to get more than two. And who would fight for Selestros? The madams and winesellers, perhaps. They'd have to be loyal to their best customer. But who else?"
Xentos face whitened at Rylla's coarse words and he gave Kalvan a look that said, 'what are you going to do about it.' Kalvan wisely decided not to light that firecracker. Xentos didn't used to be such a fuddy-duddy, perhaps too much time spent with his pious associates in Agrys City. Kalvan wondered what other 'sensitivities' the Chancellor had recently acquired.
"Have the Electors made any decision on Kaiphranos's successor?" he asked, to keep the conversation afloat, it was listing badly.
If Selestros's character outweighed his blood in the eyes of the Elector, Princes, there were only two other candidates, the formidable Grand Duke Lysandros and Prince Soligon of Argros, Kaiphranos's cousin and brother-in-law, who apparently had at least the negative virtues of being neither a fanatic nor a drunk.
"At this time, Prince Soligon is the man whose election would offend the smallest number of those who should not be offended," Xentos finally answered. Kalvan refrained from asking for a list of "those who should not be offended;" Xentos doubtless had it down in such detail that it would take an hour to recite. "Grand Duke Lysandros has taken the title, Prince of Harphax, since Selestros has renounced his claim as both Prince and Great King. It is said that this was in exchange for enough gold from Styphon's House to pay all his debts. With Selestros not in the line of succession, Lysandros is closest by blood to the crown of Harphax. Since Hos-Harphax is now without a Great King, the Electors have appointed a Regency Council to rule Hos-Harphax until the Harphaxi Succession Crisis is resolved.
"The Council of Dralm has recently 'learned', from friends in Harphax City, that the Regency Council has appointed Lysandros as Captain-General of the Royal Army. It is said that the Regency Council is so crippled by the infighting between Lysandros and the other candidates that it dare not to do anything decisive."
That sounds a lot like the Council of Dralm, Kalvan thought to himself. As he shot daggers at Rylla with his eyes to keep her from saying such out loud.
"It is hoped by the Regency Council that re-training and re-organizing the Royal Army will keep Prince Lysandros too busy to do any effective politicking. Styphon's House is supplying him with gold, fireseed and arms to buy the goodwill of the captains of the mercenary companies and the Princely levies."
That was new news and not so good at that. Lysandros had a reputation as a savvy commander and as Captain-General of Hos-Harphax he could place his captains in key leadership positions and pick up good will where it counted the most. The unanswered question was still whether Lysandros was planning a putsch or not?
Xentos doubted it. "The laws of succession bind all candidates for the Iron Throne to avoid intimidating the Electoral Princes. To be sure, laws of such a nature are often the least obeyed, but in this case I think Lysandros will be cautious. He would not care to have those who fear his devotion to Styphon also able to call him a usurper."
Men of Lysandros's character with loyal armies at their back tended not to fear very much of anything, but Kalvan was sure Xentos knew this himself. "If we're able to march against the Harphaxi in the spring, we may be able to take a hand in the succession. Any Prince who pledges not to vote for Lysandros will be treated as a neutral, his lands left unmolested, his fireseed restocked, and so on."
Rylla grinned. "Yes, and then Prince Lysandros would have to stop playing Captain-General and come out to fight a battle. We could make sure he got home with his tail between his legs, if he got home at all."
"Can you be sure that the new Royal Army will be ready for the field, and that it will have no other enemies to fight?" Xentos asked.
"The answer's no on both counts," Kalvan answered, "but if the nomads come this far east, we can send the Princely levies to hold them while the Royal Army knocks out the Harphaxi. After the licking we gave the Holy Host at Phyrax, Great King Cleitharses of Hos-Ktemnos will be in no hurry to invade Hos-Hostigos again!"
"If the Princes will stand content with being given the less honorable of the two wars to fight, I suppose you could."
"And I suppose you could tell us what you're trying to hide," Rylla said, with an edge of steel in her voice. "Has the Council of Dralm refused to recognize Kalvan's title?"
To Xentos' credit, he met their eyes as he nodded. "It is the judgment of the Council of the Dralm that the resistance of Hostigos and its allies against Styphon's House was lawful, for Styphon's House has become the sworn foe of all those who worship Allfather Dralm. This blessing has been extended to include last spring's invasion of Hos-Harphax, for the Harphaxi took the field not solely in defense of their rights but as allies of the false god Styphon."
How magnanimous of you and the Council! thought Kalvan, as he practically bit his tongue to keep from speaking out loud.
"Such a blessing would not be extended to another invasion of a lawful Great Kingdom, until that kingdom has committed further offenses' beyond the ones for which they have already been punished. We also understand that the Regency Council would like to declare a state of truce with Hos-Hostigos until the Succession Crisis is
resolved."
Half of Kalvan couldn't believe what he was hearing, the other half was not surprised at all. Who was Xentos working for now, the Council of Dralm or the Regency Council of Hos-Harphax? Kalvan wondered cynically, if he conquered Hos-Harphax and all the Regency Council princedoms, would the Council then consider that legal? Might, might not make right, but certainly the victors wrote the histories and defined what was legal and what wasn't. "Wouldn't the election of Lysandros be a sufficient offense to justify an invasion?"
"Is it your wish to find justification for a war that you have already decided to wage?"
Fortunately, for future relations with the Council of Dralm, Rylla's jaw dropped too far for her to say anything. Kalvan managed to fill the silence with, "Her Majesty and I have decided on nothing, Xentos. Unlike the Council of Dralm, we try not to give judgment before we know all that there is to know. Now that we have answered your question, would the Lord Chancellor care to answer ours?"
"Lysandros would have to commit some recognizable act against Hos-Hostigos at the bidding of Styphon's House to give further offense," Xentos answered, smiling thinly. "Considering how much he is likely to owe the Godless by the time he ascends the throne and how ready they are to call in debts, I do not think he will be slow to commit such an offense. Then the Council of Dralm may not give its blessing but will certainly withhold any protest. If you cannot be free to march within a moon of Lysandros's succession, I will be amazed."
"Also, he might not be elected," Kalvan replied. That was sounding more conciliatory than he felt. A month could be Styphon's own lot too long, if it meant facing an extra ten or fifteen thousand men, perhaps including Zarthani Knights under Grand Master Soton. He was tempted to quote Napoleon's maxim about time to Xentos, but decided that would only start the catfight all over again.
Kalvan also decided not to ask Xentos how much he had done as Chancellor of the Realm to persuade the League of Dralm to declare Kalvan a Great King instead of a usurper with a legitimate grievance against Styphon's House. Xentos might not have done as much as his Great King was entitled to expect. From the look on Rylla's face, it would be better if that didn't come out in the open for now. She would certainly insist on Xentos' resignation yesterday at the latest, when his experience was badly needed for establishing the Hos-Hostigos bureaucracy and keeping peace with the priesthood of Dralm. Mytron was the only possible successor who wouldn't be a slap in the face to the temples, and he was up to his eyebrows making paper and running the new University.
"The Royal Army of Hos-Hostigos will be mustered as I have written it down," Kalvan said, tapping the paper. "If the Council of Dralm opposes that, we shall consider them hardly less our enemies than Styphon's House."
The look on Xentos' face almost matched that on Rylla's.
"However," Kalvan continued, "we shall not use the Royal Army except as a lawful ruler may always use soldiers, against his enemies. The greatest of those is Styphon's House, and those who do not march with Styphon's House need not fear us."
"How do your Princes agree with this position?"
"They must abide by Our decision," Kalvan said, "for whether or not the Council of Dralm recognizes Our title or not, We are the Great King of Hos-Hostigos." Rylla gave him a smile that at any other time would have brightened his day.
Kalvan would be Dralm-damned, if he'd give his princes the right to veto their Great King, even to keep Xentos on as Chancellor of the Realm! As long as the Council of Dralm refused to call him 'Great King,' instead allowing him to be called 'Usurper', and as long as his title wasn't recognized by those who should be his allies, whomever sat on the Iron Throne of Hos-Harphax would be encouraged to think he could win back what Kaiphranos had lost.
As long as the Great King of Hos-Harphax thought that, he-whoever he was-would be willing to make nice with whomever gave him gold, guns and fireseed fight to fight Kalvan. And until Hos-Harphax was completely overthrown, that was going to be Styphon's House. The Harphaxi and the Styphoni might just be sleeping together instead of actually married, but that wouldn't make any difference to the Hostigi dead in the next war. Kalvan would have given his right hand to have it make no difference to the Council of Dralm.
And to think he'd actually thought that not only would he have gotten political legitimacy from the Council, but troops and gold as well-another triumph of hope over wisdom. Maybe it had been a mistake to send Xentos to the Council in Hos-Agrys as the Council's representative from Hos-Hostigos, but whom else could he have sent? When all was said and done, Xentos was the Highpriest of Hostigos. He would have to be replaced as Chancellor of Hos-Hostigos, but carefully. Very carefully.
Rylla poured more wine, and they all drank to "a just peace," which everybody carefully avoided trying to define, as well as "to the overthrow of Styphon's House," which didn't really need any defining.
II
As Archpriest Anaxthenes gazed out the panes of glass into the pastoral scene outside, where his gardeners tended his lawns, it was hard to believe that Roxthar and the Usurper Kalvan had turned the world he had known all his life upside down. What kind of world was it where True Believers persecuted their brethren in the name of the false-god, Styphon?
Anaxthenes turned, as he heard the soft swishing of Thessamona, his favorite concubine's, gown. She had been his mistress for over twenty years and she still possessed much of the freshness and beauty that had attracted him all those many years ago at the court of Hos-Ktemnos. While some of his younger concubines were lovelier, none had shared Thessamona's incisive mind. These days she was the only living person with whom he dared share his true thoughts. If Roxthar were to ever get her on his rack, they both would 'ride the flame' as so many of the Investigator's victims had in the last moon. The stench of Roxthar's 'cleansing fires' hovered over Balph like a cloud of Ravens at one of Kalvan's battlefields.
"Are you worrying again, my lord?" Thessamona asked.
Anaxthenes nodded. It was such a relief to be able to actually voice his thoughts without thinking of plots and counterplots, treachery and disloyalty. "Our world is on the verge of destruction."
"Surely, you exaggerate. Roxthar does not dare move against you openly."
"He dares, he just doesn't find it politic. He is trying to use me, as I used Sesklos all those many years. But I was not speaking of our simple palace here and our life together. He will be the death of Styphon's House, if the Usurper Kalvan does not destroy us first!"
"I don't understand," she said. "Has not Roxthar's Investigations raised Temple donations to an all time high?"
"Yes, but that's part of the problem. We want people to respect Styphon, not live in mortal dread of his Investigators. Now they offer their gold to prove their piety to Styphon! That's the entire problem; how can there be heretics of a Temple that has no god?" There he said it out loud, the unbidden thought that had long plagued his mind.
Her laugh sounded like the tinkling of bells. "He is a madman, of course. We've discussed that many times. He is looking for air in a rock. But doesn't Styphon's Treasury need more gold to pay for her armies?"
"Yes, but we already have more than enough. Roxthar is creating a climate of fear, and, if it continues, it will break out in a thunderstorm-and who will take the brunt?"
Thessamona nodded. "The Inner Circle and Highpriests. Roxthar will say it was their corruption that has incensed the mobs. When it is the fear of his Investigation that has driven the multitudes out into the streets."
Anaxthenes nodded, squeezing her shoulder, in an unusual display of affection. "You understand what my fellow highpriests do not. Sesklos now fears Roxthar more than Hadron's demons! The old priest has at last outlived his usefulness."
"What about one of your vials?"
"I was tempted last winter, but that was before Roxthar's ascendancy. No, it might prove too convenient. Too many fingers would point my way."
"Someone has to take the helm of your rudderless galley, before a rock rips out the belly."
"A most apt metaphor, Thessamona. What the fools of Inner Circle don't realize is, Styphon's Temple was doomed the moment Kalvan"-he hissed the word-"learned the Fireseed Mystery. Of course, the Temple had anticipated such an event. In the past hundred winters, we have killed two other alchemists that 'learned' the Mystery. Kalvan was not known to us and worked in secrecy in a small princedom that had escaped our eye until Styphon's gold was discovered in one of their valleys. It's not a common substance, like the other ingredients of the Mystery, and smells of Regwam's Caverns."
"Then why are we still here? You have enough gold for a prince." Anaxthenes smiled. "And leave a lifetime's work! I am no voluptuary, who can sit and drink myself insensate, or lose myself in the weaknesses of the flesh. My pleasure is in bending men to my will and changing their lives."
"Yes, it is hard to imagine you sitting still for any length of time." He stopped his pacing to laugh. "You know me too well, Thessie."
"I still do not understand why the Temple of Styphon is doomed, as you say. The Temple owns more gold than all the Great Kings combined, it owns the Great Banking Houses, it commands a huge trading fleet and war fleet, as well, and owns more land than is contained within the borders of Hos-Agrys."
"All of what you say is true, and more," Anaxthenes replied. "The Temple has wealth like a farmer has manure. Unfortunately, our greatest weapon-the Mystery-has been pillaged. Some think this Kalvan is a former Zygrosi Temple underpriest who joined the Temple to steal our Mystery. It may be true, although he takes to command like one born to it."
"As does, my lord," Thessamona replied.
Even after all these years, she was still in awe of his noble birth. Yes, he was of the nobility, the fifth son of a penniless baron, who left the family tarr to make his own fortune. Years later he had bought the family estate, kicked his older brothers out, and put their former seneschal in charge. That the estate had thereafter shown good profit had amused him to no end.