by John F. Carr
"Astronomy, alchemy, agriculture, medical arts, the law—even drawing and painting."
Xentos shook his white head. "Dralm be praised, but Your Majesty never ceases to keep this old man befuddled. These things are not mysteries, such as Dralm's teachings, but common matters learned at any man's hand. Why should they be taught in schools?"
Kalvan spent the next half hour explaining the Enlightenment view of a classical education to Xentos, only stopping when he sighed in resignation, nodding his head.
"Yes, yes, you are right. We must build our own university. How else can so much knowledge be packed into one man's head? These new arts need to be shared among your subjects. The Allfather, in his wisdom, has given Hostigos far more than a warlord in you, Your Majesty. Sometimes I wonder if you have come from a land even more distant than the ends of this earth."
To divert Xentos from this line of thought, Kalvan said, "For this new University of Hos-Hostigos, I will need a headman—or rector. However, for the man I have in mind, I will need your permission."
"My permission?"
"Yes. The man I want to act as rector is one of your priests, Brother Mytron."
"Brother Mytron! Why?"
"Besides being a fine herbalist and healer, he knows about the weather, geography, history and many other things. Everyone likes and respects him; he is fair in his thoughts and has an even tempered disposition."
"He is all of this. Mytron's wisdom and great piety are why the Temple of Dralm values his work and why he is needed more than ever in our great struggle with the false god and devil who calls himself Styphon. If he were not our best healer, he would already be highpriest of one of the major Great Kingdom temples. Upon my death, Mytron will follow me as Highpriest of Hos-Hostigos."
Kalvan knew next to nothing about the ecclesiastical hierarchy of Dralm, other than that the Great Kingdom Highpriests had great latitude, although in theory the High Temple of Hos-Agrys was in charge of the Temple. In the hinterlands, everyone regarded the High Temple—with its intrigues and hierarchical struggles—as most of Europe had treated the Papacy during the Babylonian Captivity. I know Xentos is ambitious; maybe there is something that he wants that only I can provide: More gold to build new temples, or a High Temple for Hos-Hostigos?
"Chancellor, I know you value Mytron greatly; however, I only need his help for a few winters, until the new university is founded and running itself. Is there something I could give you in exchange?"
Xentos looked down at the floor, leaving him with a view of the top of his cowl, then he looked back into Kalvan's eyes. "Because of this abominable Edict of Balph, Highpriest Davros of High Temple of Dralm has decided to call a Great Council of Dralm in Agrys City to determine the Temple's strategy in this struggle against the false god Styphon and Allfather Dralm. In return for Brother Mytron's help in establishing the new university, I would like your permission to attend this Council."
Kalvan drew back. It would be a blow to lose the head of the Temple of Dralm just as the country went to war; however, that might not be a bad thing—considering Xentos' foot dragging in regards to marshalling temple support outside of Hostigos. In the beginning Xentos had helped with intelligence and information gathering, but lately he'd had 'doubts' as to the wisdom of involving the temple of Dralm.
Kalvan could smell the way this wind was blowing: no Great Council, no Rector Mytron. To stall for time, he began to knock the heel out of his pipe.
He was really beginning to think that Xentos' appointment as Chancellor of Hos-Hostigos was a bad decision; Kalvan needed someone without divided loyalties, someone he could trust one hundred percent. Maybe allowing Xentos to travel to Hos-Agrys was no bad thing; at worst, he'd be out of the way. At best, he'd be a useful ally in obtaining help from those Princes and Dukes who were faithful followers of Dralm. Also, if he could get the University of Hostigos established, then all of his work here-and-now would not be in vain were something bad to happen to him in the war. Generals who led from the front were poor insurance risks—look at Gustavus Adolphus or Turenne.
There would be no end to the mischief the priests of Dralm might cook up at their Great Council, but they wouldn't need Xentos' help for that. In fact, there was a need for the voice of Hos-Hostigos to be heard in Agrys City. If only he could be sure just which way Xentos might pull if it came to a tug-of-war between church and state.
Then it occurred to him that perhaps it didn't matter. Even if Xentos' loyalties were divided, more good than harm might come from a Great Council of Dralm. The Council could rally all the people whose religious beliefs were mortally offended by the unmitigated gall of Styphon's House, which was attempting to demote a major god! And, not just any god, either, but Dralm the Father God—The Allfather—foremost figure in the Zarthani pantheon. One did not have to be particularly devout in one's worship of Dralm to believe that no good could come of men presuming to cast down gods.
Kalvan felt like laughing, but he knew it would have offended Xentos by appearing irreverent. If the battle between him and Styphon's House had come to a straightforward question of who had the biggest army and the longest purse, the victor would certainly be Styphon's House. As it was, a serious religious offense had been committed, and might decide the outcome of a war between a lifelong agnostic and a Temple run mostly by priests who worshipped at the altar of Mammon and Machiavelli.
God, or the gods—if any such should exist—must have a sardonic sense of humor!
After drawing a lungful of smoke, Kalvan nodded graciously. "You have Our permission to attend the Council of Dralm."
Xentos gave a smile that bordered on the triumphant, which he quickly reined in. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope the new University prospers under its new Rector."
"I believe it will. Of course, with Brother Mytron in charge of the University, the Temple of Dralm will have a voice and ear in its affairs."
"So I had assumed, Sire."
Kalvan had to fight the impulse to grind his teeth. "Now that this is settled, what are your recommendations for the Great Council of Hos-Hostigos."
"After asking guidance from Allfather Dralm, I have reached a decision."
Xentos' decision was that it would be worth the delay for Kalvan to secure the presence of all the Princes or at least their lawfully appointed envoys. To be sure, a Great King did have the power Kalvan was proposing to exercise, but was it wise to exercise it so early in the history of the first new Great Kingdom in three hundred years? Xentos gave, at great length, a good many reasons why it was not, but added that only Dralm could judge for certain.
"If Xentos really left as many things up to Dralm's judgment as he wants people to think he does, he'd be a doddering old fool," Kalvan told Rylla afterward. "However, that's one of the few things I'm not worried about. Xentos may be as determined as a Ruthani sachem to win his feud with Styphon's House before he dies, but he's no kind of fool. Nor is he anywhere as old as he pretends to be."
"Nor as old as he looks," Rylla said with a broad wink. 'I've heard it said that Xentos uses a special bleach to get his hair and beard so white. But—will you take his advice."
Kalvan shrugged. "It's good advice, and I'm not sure I'd have a choice even if it wasn't. After all, I publicly asked for it in the hearing of the full court.
"Follow it: you will be honored for your respect to the Allfather, as indeed you ought to be."
"Thank you, darling." Kalvan said. He hoped he was keeping the sarcasm he felt out of his voice. Respect for local gods was one thing if it stayed at the level of politicians kissing babies and putting on Indian headdresses. It was something else if it meant dividing authority in Hos-Hostigos between himself and Xentos. Not that the Highpriest wasn't competent, but—according to Ptosphes and Chartiphon—Xentos had always been and would stay incredibly stubborn and hardheaded; and church-state conflicts (more shades of Henry II, as well as the Tudor Henry with all the wives) were exactly what Kalvan didn't need as long as he had Styphon's House at his
throat.
SEVEN
I
Chancellor Xentos was shrewd enough to realize he should do something in return for Kalvan's cooperation, such as help assemble the Great Council of the realm. Sending word of the Council and copies of the Edict of Balph to all the Princes in Hos-Hostigos used up horses at a rate that made Harmakros wince when he contemplated mounting his cavalry for the spring. It also used up a few of the messengers; the wolves were fewer now, but the weather was only slightly warmer, and a two-day blizzard swept across the Great Kingdom while half the riders were still on the road. Xentos dipped into the Treasury to replace the horses and help the families of the dead.
On the twelfth day of the Red Moon the Great Council of Hos-Hostigos met in the Great Hall of Tarr-Hostigos. Prince Sarrask of Sask and his silver-armored bodyguard were the first to arrive. When not drinking beer at the Crossed Halberd tavern, Sarrask was in Hostigos Town square watching the Royal troops at drill and on parade.
Prince Balthames arrived three days after his father-in-law. Before the evening was through, he tried to seduce one of the royal pages. This earned him a ruined nose that Brother Mytron spent all night trying to repair. His older brother, Prince Balthar of Beshta, arrived the next day in a mail-curtained wagon with an escort of fifty cavalry and never left his room until the day of the Council.
Prince Pheblon, the new ruler of war-torn Nostor, was the next to arrive. He had salt-and-pepper hair worn down to his shoulders, a black goatee and an understandably harassed expression. Prince Armanes of Nyklos not only came himself, but he brought two-hundred thousand ounces of silver to contribute to the Royal Treasury. Kalvan made a mental note to find out whose confiscated estate had produced the silver. More work for his secret services. Prince Tythanes of Kyblos was the last to arrive.
Prince Kestophes of Ulthor did not come himself, pleading illness. It was said that while hunting he'd been thrown when his horse broke its leg in a gopher hole. Kestophes had taken a bad spill, leaving him unconscious for several days. But he did send a large embassy. The head of it, a Count Euphrades, assured Kalvan that he also bore what might be called a watching brief for several Princes of Hos-Agrys who had ties of blood or friendship to Prince Kestophes. Kalvan made another mental note to see if anyone in Euphrades' retinue could be persuaded to tell who these mysterious Princes were. He had no objection to Princes who wanted to join Hos-Hostigos learning the secrets of his Councils; he did object violently to those who might simply want to know which way to jump when the spring campaign opened.
However, a limited gain in military security was not enough reason to mortally insult Prince Kestophes by refusing to seat his ambassador. So far, Ulthor City was Hos-Hostigos' only port on the Great Lakes, or Saltless Seas as they were called here-and-now, which meant the only route to the Upper Middle Kingdoms and the west, particularly Grefftscharr. Prince Kestophes was going to have to do something much worse than send an unduly inquisitive ambassador before Kalvan would take notice of it—official notice, that is...
Kalvan's modified enthusiasm for Chancellor Xentos underwent a further modification when the Council of the Realm assembled and Xentos walked in with Baron Zothnes, the former Archpriest. The hisses of indrawn breath made the Great Hall sound like feeding time in a snakepit, and Kalvan heard someone mutter, "Styphon's spy." Rylla's father, Prince Ptosphes, went as far as grasping the hilt of his ceremonial dagger. Kalvan made another mental note to sit down with—or if necessary, on—Xentos until he explained why he'd brought the turncoat Archpriest into the Council without a word of warning. Meanwhile, he had to stand behind his Chancellor or look like an even bigger fool than he already was. Which would make the Council a waste of time, and the Princes would not take kindly to that. Not one little bit...
Kalvan rose and rapped the table with the ceremonial mace that was used as a gavel. "Peace, my lord Princes. Baron Zothnes is high in Our confidence. He has renounced allegiance to the false Styphon by oaths to which most of you were witnesses. Will you deny this, so denying hope of reward to those who see the truth about Styphon and repent of their sins and errors? Will you be harsher in your judgments than the Great Allfather Dralm himself?"
As Zothnes sat down in the face of a temporarily subdued Great Hall, Kalvan reflected that there was something to be said for being the son of a minister with a fine line in hellfire-and-damnation sermons.
Zothnes, whalelike in his fur robes, was abject in his thanks. Personally, Kalvan would much rather have had the other defecting Archpriest, Krastokles. He'd been one of Sesklos' handpicked troubleshooters, and it wasn't really his fault that the trouble shot first. However, only Dralm could get the benefit of former Archpriest Krastokles' repentance now. He'd died early in January, so suddenly there was talk of poison, although Kalvan personally suspected appendicitis.
As it turned out Baron Zothnes was about the most useful member of the Council. Everyone had read the Edict of Balph, everyone knew that Styphon's House was sharpening axes for them and everyone knew there was only so much they could do without knowing more about the Inner Circle of Styphon's House than they did. Unlike Krastokles, Zothnes had only recently been Elected Archpriest of the Inner Circle. He was essentially a manager, and one of his managerial skills was a very good memory for useful facts about everyone who might support or hurt him.
As Zothnes delivered his rambling briefing on the Balph hierarchy and Inner Circle, Kalvan realized that if Zothnes ever rode one of those cross-time flying saucers to a world with gossip columnists he'd make his fortune overnight. The names of highpriests, upperpriests and archpriests swirled past Kalvan until he felt as if he were reading a long Russian novel without a cast of characters to help him keep track of who was doing what to whom.
He made yet another mental note, this one for at least twentieth time: Get the scribes together and work out a system of Zarthani shorthand. One of these days something vital was going to be forgotten because everybody thought it was somebody else's job to remember it.
Gradually five names came to the front: Sesklos, Supreme Priest and Styphon's Own Voice; Archpriest Anaxthenes, First Speaker of the Inner Circle; Archpriest Roxthar, keeper of the sacred flame and political in-fighter par excellence; Archpriest Dracar, next in line of succession behind Anaxthenes for Sesklos' chair and not at all happy about it; Archpriest Cimon, the painfully honest and reform-minded "Peasant Priest."
Remembering the Cluniac Order and the Franciscans Kalvan suspected Cimon might prove to be the most dangerous. A serious reform movement within Styphon's House was something Hos-Hostigos needed like more wolves.
"There have been First Speakers of the Inner Circle who have achieved the title only by outliving all their rivals," Zothnes emphasized. "Anaxthenes is not one of them. No man knows his mind, and few learned of his plans for themselves until he has executed them—for better or for worse. Sesklos loves him like a son, but is often child to Anaxthenes' plans. Should he thwart them now he might die clutching the viper to his chest. More than one of Anaxthenes opponents has died thus.
"Let us not be among them," Rylla said.
"Praise Dralm," echoed through the Great Hall.
Note, thought Kalvan, royal food-tasters. Yesterday at the latest.
"Bless Your Majesties, and with Dralm's help may it never be so," Zothnes added.
"Anaxthenes is no believer in Styphon," continued Zothnes. "Indeed, it is said that he believes in nothing save his own ability to outwit all his enemies. Nor is Archpriest Dracar a believer. Cimon is useful for public appearances and talking with the local backwoods priests, while Roxthar wears his piety like a shroud and his ambition like a dagger. There are so many tales about Archpriest Thymos and Archpriest Heraclestros, Archpriest of the Golden Dome of Agrys City, being true believers it is hard not to wonder."
Zothnes dabbed at rheumy eyes with a handkerchief that appeared to have been stolen from a chimney sweep. "A strange, sad fate for Styphon's House—that men subject to all the weaknesses of b
elievers should be among those who control its destinies. Indeed, Dralm works in mysterious ways."
Sarrask of Sask howled with laughter, and everyone else except Prince Balthar of Beshta at least chuckled. Kalvan and Rylla looked at each other but stifled their own laughter at the expression on Xentos' face. To hear even a former priest say that it was a sad fate for a temple to be run those who believed in its god was clearly something Xentos had never believed he would hear and very much wanted to believe he hadn't heard now.
Zothnes' supply of gossip eventually ran dry, but before it did the Council knew they had a better idea of whom and what they were facing. The Edict of Balph and the leading personalities of the Inner Circle pointed only one way.
Prince Ptosphes stood and summarized, "Styphon's House will not fail to send gold and fireseed to King Kaiphranos. They may even place a portion of the men in their own pay under Harphaxi command. Most certainly, though, such men will shake off Kaiphranos' authority like a dog shaking itself dry the moment Styphon's House gives the order."
"I almost feel sorry for Kaiphranos," Prince Tythanes of Kyblos said. "He won't know which way to look for enemies."
Sarrask snorted like a boar interrupted a feeding. "I'll feel a damn sight sorrier for him once his head is on display outside Harphax City."
In order not to appear to be dominating the Council, on the second day Kalvan let Ptosphes continue with a military briefing he'd worked out in advance with Rylla, Ptosphes and Duke Chartiphon. Before long they were all standing in front of the big deerskin map of the Five Kingdoms, while Ptosphes used a poker from the fireplace as a pointer.
Hos-Zygros was neutral, at least for now. Great King Sopharar was known to be a dedicated follower of Dralm, yet far enough away from Balph to sit out the coming storm. The Zygrosi would make trouble for anyone who made trouble for them, and for the time being nobody else. Even if they wanted to raise an army to intervene in the war, their population was small—Hos-Zygros was the least populous Great Kingdom after Hos-Bletha—and by all reports hardest hit by the Winter of Wolves.