The Fireseed Wars k-5

by John F. Carr

  In Archpriest Grythos the Guard had a talented, if flawed commander. Grythos had left the Order as Knight Commander when he realized that he wanted wealth more than military success. He was also atrocity-prone; very few prisoners ever survived their capture under his command. This had brought him no end of trouble with the big slaving houses, many of which were aligned with various interests in Balph. Soton had been relieved when Grythos had left the Order.

  However, despite his initial reservations, Soton was heartened when Grythos became a member of the Inner Circle of Styphon's House. It was a big help, during these martial times, to finally have another Archpriest in the Inner Circle with military training and experience.

  "It is good to see you looking well, Grand Master," Styphon's Voice said, as he took the center seat beside him.

  "You, likewise, Your Divinity."

  Anaxthenes nodded, looking down at the spectacle, with nearly half of the Temple Guardsmen now down on the ground, leaking blood and entrails. The rest were looking around in dismay, as if they had been double-crossed.

  "The Hostigi swordsmen are doing well," Anaxthenes said. "They were hand-picked from over a thousand prisoners. I notice that the audience is enjoying the Temple Guardsmen's discomfort."

  Of course! A spectacle as a means of political instruction. Now, everyone who's seen Temple Guardsmen pouring their guts out over the sand will no longer see them as the invincible Red Hand of Styphon. Very clever, this one!

  Suddenly a handful of fully-armored halberdiers in Ktemnoi colors rushed onto the arena floor and quickly attacked the remaining Temple Guardsmen. The crowd shook the arena walls with their shouts and foot-stomping. Within moments, all the Guardsmen were dead and the surviving Hostigi were escorted out of the Arena by the halberdiers.

  "Are the swordsmen prisoners, or are they mercenaries?"

  "They are Hostigi soldiers that fled the battlefield and the Investigation. They were captured in Syriphlon and brought here for our entertainment. They fight well, don't they?"

  "What is their reward?"

  "Aren't the deaths of a score of Temple Guardsmen reward enough?" The smile on Anaxthenes' face said that it was enough for him.

  "No one ever said that Styphon's Own Guard had any brains."

  "That is the truth. They fought for a cask of wine and an easy victory. Of course, they hadn't expected to face real soldiers, just one of the usual bands of undernourished prisoners condemned to death in the arena. Now, the Guardsmen can throw bones in Hadron's Hall, unless Hadron chooses to toss their worthless carcasses into Regwarn."

  "I don't mean to be rude, Your Divinity, but I have much to do before I return to Hos-Hostigos, and I'm curious-Why did you invite me to attend this spectacle?"

  "Because I have a change of plans for you, and I didn't want it known throughout Balph before evening vespers."

  Soton wished he would get to the point. Most of these temple rats believed in using a hundred words where ten would do.

  Anaxthenes leaned over. "I want you to prepare an expedition to Hos-Harphax."

  "Hos-Harphax! But, why? Isn't Great King Lysandros our ally in the war against the Usurper Kalvan?"

  "Yes, but you're not going to Hos-Harphax to fight; it's the stepping stone for the war against Hos-Agrys. You will organize your army and prepare for the invasion of Agrys City. It does Styphon's House no good to have its allies' houses pillaged while they are off fighting the Temples' battles, as King Demistophon has done in Thaphigos."

  Soton nodded, that at least made sense. But why me?

  "Does Roxthar know of this?"

  "Does the sparrow that flies under the temple eaves know-of course, not. He would argue and fulminate and make all kinds of threats he no longer has the ability to carry out. That is why I waited until he left before telling you."

  "So, who will lead the Grand Host against the Usurper?"

  "Great King Lysandros will lead the host supported by Prince Anaxon and Captain-General Phidestros, who will act as his under-captains. To lead the forces of Styphon's House, I've dispatched orders to Knight Commander Aristocles elevating him to Grand Commander of Order of Zarthani Knights and Styphon's Own Guard. These commanders own enough experience and battle savvy to pin the Daemon's defeated army to the ground and grind it into the earth."

  Soton shook his head in disbelief. I am surrounded by madmen and incompetents. Why will they not leave me to do my job?

  "I see you are not convinced, Grand Master. I think you mistake the root of the problem for the stalk. Kalvan, by exposing the Fireseed Mystery, has done more damage to Styphon's House than a hundred military defeats. He has cost us our most potent weapon against the great lords and kings: the ability to withhold fireseed, thereby guaranteeing them defeat without our help. Now, they can buy this Hostigos filth at any stall in any market! Soon all the nobles will realize they no longer need the Temple's approval or support; they can war as they wish, not as we wish.

  "Kalvan, meanwhile, is now just another Trygathi warlord who will not find favor in the false kingdom of Rathon-or with his supposed Grefftscharrer allies. We have already received envoys from King Theovacar asking us to keep Kalvan out of the Middle Kingdoms-as if we will heed their wishes! Soon Kalvan, if he escapes our sword, will be embroiled in the Upper Middle Kingdoms with every man's hand raised against him, and the Grand Host of Styphon chasing from behind. Now, do you see why I do not worry about the stalk?"

  He was starting to get a glimpse of Anaxthenes' thinking and he wasn't sure he liked it. As Soton understood it: Styphon's House's duty was not to rule the Five Kingdoms, but to protect them. Wasn't it? Or was that just another sham? Even without the support or favor of the Northern Kingdoms, Styphon's House would still be strong within Hos-Ktemnos and Hos-Bletha. But, obviously, that wasn't enough for the new Styphon's Voice or the Inner Circle. On the other hand, it would be foolish to expect the upper priesthood to show restraint when none had done so in the past.

  "You, my friend," Styphon's Voice continued, "will pull out the roots, starting with that turnip, King Demistophon. Once he has been dispatched and put in irons, we will work on his traitorous princes."

  "And what army am I supposed to do this with, Your Divinity?"

  "The Host of Styphon's Deliverance, Grand Master. I have assembled four thousand cavalry, half mercenary but shortly to be sworn in as Ktemnoi regulars-just in case the Temple of Galzar extends their Ban to include any army coming from Balph. You should be able to bring four or five more Lances from the border tarrs, as well as three more Sacred Squares. These Ktemnoi Princes now jump when Styphon's Voice barks!" He gave a harsh laugh.

  "That is a good start, although they might be put to better use in destroying the False Hostigi-"

  "Enough! We have Archpriest Haltor in Hos-Agrys buying the service of every mercenary within two hundred marches of Agrys City. He claims that he can offer you another two thousand men. There aren't many Free Companions available with the war against Hostigos going on so long."

  Soton's head reeled; this was not the Styphon's House of old, a lumbering ox that shuffled and fell back two steps before moving forward one.

  "Soon, we will own the world."

  "If these are my orders, Your Holiness, I will leave as soon as my Lances arrive."

  "Good." He patted Soton on his shoulders, like a good mastiff.

  In his mind, Soton ran through the Order forts and which ones had Lances they could send to Balph: Tarr-Ceros could spare one, so could Tarr-Ryth, while Tarr-Tyros, Tarr-Zokra and Tarr-Gythax could send three or four Shafts each. "I will send orders out this evening. They should arrive before moon's end."

  "Excellent, Grand Master. Now, I have someone I want you to meet who will be going with you. He will represent Our Voice."

  Soton raised his eyebrows in surprise when Archpriest Cimon entered the box. Of all people, he had not expected the Peasant Priest, as Cimon was known, to be in Anaxthenes' camp.

  "It is good to see you, Your Sanctit
y."

  The broad faced Archpriest smiled in return. "You, as well, Grand Master."

  "The subjects of King Demistophon and his Princes will have heard terrible things about the Investigation," Styphon's Voice continued.

  Soton nodded. Most of which are true, by the way!

  "Archpriest Cimon will be in charge of restoring our temples in Hos-Agrys and in building new ones. In him, they will see another face of Styphon's House-one that will be as welcoming as it is unexpected!"

  Soton shrugged his shoulders, aware that events were rushing past him faster than a runaway horse. He wanted to be back on the battlefield, any battlefield. He supposed Agrys City would do as well as anyplace else. At least he wouldn't be fighting Kalvan's veterans and new-fangled shells and rifles! And, for once, I'll be doing it with a friend and ally, not an enemy or a madman.

  II

  Kalvan looked down with paternal pride as little Demia scurried around the chamber, half-walking, half-running, like any normal toddler with three nursemaids and concerned parents watching on. I'm going to miss her a lot! Her Mom, too, he mused.

  "She's gotten used to having you around, Kalvan. You leaving will be hard for her. Me, too!"

  Kalvan gave Rylla a big hug, despite the "looks" from Demia's nursemaids-protocol be damned, my family's leaving without me!

  Demia started to tug at the bottom edge of the Upper Middle Kingdoms' deerskin map and one of the nursemaids rushed over, picking her up. Immediately, she started to bawl.

  "Dysola, please take the baby to the nursery. The Great King and I have things to discuss."

  "Yes, Your Majesty."

  Kalvan reached over and took Demia out of the nursemaid's arms, giving her a big hug, then bussed her on the neck. She started to giggle between sobs, making a sound like a strangled hiccup.

  "You go with your nurse, little one. Daddy will be come later to tuck you in."

  "Da Da."

  He smiled wanly. "Bye-bye."

  When she was gone, Rylla said, "She'll probably be speaking Urgothi by the time you see her again."

  He nodded. "Dralm-damnit, I'm going to miss you both! I wish I could ferry all of us to Thagnor, but it's impossible."

  "We'll be fine. I'll protect our people as best I can, with the Allfather's help."

  Kalvan was sure Rylla would do everything possible to see they made it safely overland to Thagnor; he was also sure the Grand Host would do everything it could to make sure she didn't. That's what bothered him. He was taking the safe route, while his family, friends and subjects were in real danger. It rankled.

  "We've got enough soldiers to protect our people. Besides, you've given me the better part of the army. Hestophes' Army of Observation will act as the van for my Army of the Trygath. We have no better commander than yourself, my husband."

  He nodded. The plans were as good as they could be, under the circumstances; however, circumstances had a way of changing and the best-laid plans- Stop! He told himself. He was more nervous about her leaving than he'd been before battle with the Grand Host. No need to turn into a Nervous Nelly-that won't help anyone, will it?

  "Besides Captain-General Hestophes, I've got General Alkides, Captain Nathros of the Sappers and Engineers, Duke Chartiphon and Prince Pheblon, who's not much help in a fight, but he's loyal. What about General Baldour?"

  "He'll be going with you, darling," Kalvan said. She would need Baldour's expertise on the Trygath and Middle Kingdoms.

  "What about Phrames-is he going with you?"

  The tone of her voice made it sound as if the Prince had a terminal illness. To her, Phrames was just another old woman-like her husband. Well, regardless, Kalvan was going to have to stop second-guessing his wife. With Harmakros and Verkan dead, she was his best commander and he needed her generalship-faults and all. Although, even he had to admit she was making a determined effort to "do as I do." Whether that would last once she was out of the Port Ulthor city gates, well, that was yet to be determined.

  "I need Phrames with me." Kalvan said, "for some breaking and entering when we reach Thagnor City."

  "That's fine. Phrames works better with you, my husband," she added with a big hug.

  "What about Prince Sarrask?" she asked.

  "He will be with you," he said with a feeling of relief. He didn't dislike Sarrask, but his larger-than-life bonhomie was wearing, when it wasn't grating. Plus, he felt obliged to always set a good example when around him, for fear that Sarrask would take one of his words wrong, like one of Henry II's courtiers, and do serious damage-all the while thinking he was doing his Great King a favor.

  "Good!" Rylla cried, rubbing her hands.

  "You really like him, don't you?"

  She grinned. "Sarrask-or the 'Improved Sarrask'-as you like to call him, has turned out to be a loyal vassal and a good co-commander. He's one of the few Princes that has stuck by us-well, besides Phrames, and that's not a fair comparison since you elevated him to Prince of Beshta."

  "What makes you so certain Sarrask's all that loyal? Part of me thinks he's just stuck around because we give him plenty of fighting, which is his favorite pastime."

  "Haven't you heard?"

  "Heard what?"

  "About Sarrask's brand?"

  That was one of the problems with being Great King, everyone either assumed you were omniscient and knew everything, or went overboard trying to keep things from you. You certainly were no longer one of the "boys."

  "What brand?"

  "Oh, it's Styphon's Own story! Let me tell you. It started after our loss at Ardros Field, when Sarrask returned to Hostigos Town. Everyone was frightened white of Archpriest Roxthar's Investigation, as they should have been. Sarrask wanted to stay behind with the volunteers at Tarr-Hostigos and 'keep it safe from those manure-eating Styphoni,' as he calls them. You were still laid up with your wound, so I was the one who had to turn down his offer."

  "I remember some of that, but vaguely."

  "Afterwards, Sarrask rode off to the Silver Stag and went on a drunk that would have made Phydros, God of Wine, envious. Another officer, who was also deep in his cups, told Sarrask that he'd been refused because no one really trusted him. I later had the Colonel busted down to a petty captain, but the damage was done. To prove his loyalty, Sarrask had one of his armorers work up a special brand, then had himself tattooed on the arse with it!"

  "What? Nobody tells me anything. What kind of brand?"

  "One that identified him as a subject of Hos-Hostigos for the rest of his life. He had the Hos-Hostigos keystone permanently branded on his arse. His rationale was that if he was ever disloyal to you, my husband, that he would still be called a Hostigi and traitor to Styphon any time he undressed."

  Kalvan nodded. Drunks, they'll do anything. Of course, this was a culture where those kinds of drunken statements got turned into legends, or ballads sung by troubadours.

  "Half his bodyguard-also as drunk as skunks-had their bums branded, too. So you see, my husband, Sarrask has proven his loyalty to the Throne far beyond anything We would have ever asked."

  "It was dumb, but also kind of admirable. I'll admit it."

  "Good, then you'll agree that Sarrask should be rewarded for his loyalty, and for the losses he has suffered demonstrating that loyalty and fighting for the Fireseed Throne. After all, he lost an entire princedom."

  Yes, and we lost an entire kingdom. Where is Rylla going with all this and why do I have the feeling I'm being set up so she can reward her brother in mischief? "Yes, okay, he deserves some compensation."

  "Well, my plan is that after we besiege and sack Rathon City, I will invest Prince Sarrask as the new King of Rathon."

  "You'll-what?"

  "You've already agreed we were not going to let that traitorous dog that calls himself Nestros remain on the throne of Rathon-calling him a Great King is an insult to the name!"

  "Yes, in principle. But the idea was to reward some local noble and have him rule with our support, thus ensuring his loyal
ty."

  "Ha! Loyalty that will blow away the moment our army leaves Rathon. You do not know the Trygathi as I do, husband. They are traitorous dogs, all of them. Maybe there are a few exceptions in Rathon, but, I ask you, how will We tell them apart? We can't. So, We are better off rewarding one of Our own that We do trust and We can begin rebuilding our Kingdom in Rathon. It'll be the first kingdom of Nos-Hostigos."

  New Hostigos, Nos-Hostigos in Zarthani, Neus Hostigos in Urgothi, that's how it would translate. Hmm. Not a bad name, until we return home. For a while, I was afraid we were going to be like the Tsarist Russians in exile after World War I in New York City. That's not for us, going to teas and receptions in Greffa City, talking about the good ol' days.

  "If Sarrask is your co-commander, how can you leave him behind?"

  Rylla whooped for joy, obviously having thought out all his objections beforehand.

  "I won't. He won't want to stay there, not while there's the promise of a good fight, any more than we want him to remain behind. I'll let him appoint one of his generals as Duke or Prince pro-tem, as you put it, with enough men to hold the City and orders to keep the Styphoni out."

  "Well, you've just stumbled across my next objection. What happens when Styphon's House comes to town? Tell me that, my Lady."

  She smirked. "I'll have some of our engineers stay behind and build your earthworks. You've always said that good earthworks would keep out any of our enemies. Did you not?"

  He nodded. Rylla was right, some of those earthworks near the end of the Italian Wars had stopped the French Army dead in their tracks. With the cannons the French had used-not much advanced over the here-and-now guns-the French Army couldn't breach the earthworks because the cannon balls just sank into the packed earth, leaving the stone walls underneath impregnable.