by John F. Carr
It was interesting that so far Investigator Roxthar had received only a single message; it was from Lord High Marshal Xenophes of Styphon's Own Guard, informing Roxthar that he was joining Grand Master Soton at Thebra City in preparation for the invasion of Hos-Agrys next spring. Phidestros was still trying to figure out how he could make the best use of that knowledge. The truth was he had no love for King Demistophon, nor did he know any of the Agrysi Princes, so he would have to wait and see what Lytris, Goddess of Chance, turned up. He knew there was some way he might yet profit from this information.
"This dispatch is from Styphon's Own Voice Anaxthenes informing Grand Commander Aristocles of Great King Cleitharses' impending death."
"Is it in the usual code?" Ranthos' value had increased tenfold when he'd demonstrated the ability to decipher Styphon's secret messages.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Please, read it for us, Baron."
Ranthos pulled out a parchment with a decipherment of Anaxthenes' words. Phidestros could read quite well for a former commoner who'd learned to read late in life. But he was still a hesitant and slow reader.
Grand Commander Aristocles of the Order of Zarthani Knights,
It is our pleasure to inform you that Great King Cleitharses has less than half a moon to live among us. He is dying from a black tumor in his nether parts. We are allowing his healer to inform the King's subjects of his grave illness.
Before his death, Cleitharses dictated a will appointing Prince Anaxon as his successor. We were able to intercept his missive to the Prince informing him of his decision. We are trying to contain the news of his impending death to within the borders of Hos-Ktemnos. It is both Our and Styphon's Will that the Prince remain with the Grand Host until the Daemon Kalvan is captured and killed.
However, once word of his uncle's death reaches the Prince's ears, it is probable that Anaxon, having unnatural enmity for Styphon's House, will return with his troops to Ktemnos City. It is your duty to use all powers at your hand, including death, to prevent the Prince from leaving the Grand Host of Styphon's House. It would be best that his soldiers thought that this demise was either accidental or by natural means. I have included a few potions in this pouch to simulate death by seizure of the heart.
If possible, it would be to Our best advantage that the Prince be placed at the head of any attacks upon Kalvan, or any other hostiles, that might prove perilous to his health. We have found an older and more malleable cousin who will act as regent until Anaxoris return, and whom we will seat on the Golden Throne upon his death.
Your friend in Styphon's Will, Styphon's Own Voice Anaxthenes
"This letter is priceless!" Phidestros crowed. "In the wrong hands, it would doom Styphon's House's control of Hos-Ktemnos." He paused to stroke his beard. "It could spark open rebellion throughout the Five Kingdoms. Anaxon is young and well-loved by his subjects. One could buy a princedom with the gold this note would purchase from Anaxon, or even Great King Demistophon!"
"Couldn't we use this to bring down Styphon's House?" Sirna asked. "Surely the Great Kings would be most distressed to learn that Styphon's Own Voice is plotting the murder of the next Great King of Hos-Ktemnos."
"Let's not be hasty, Sirna," Phidestros said softly. "There is little to be gained at this moment in time by poking a stick in Styphon's eye. This missive is much more valuable if no one knows that it exists. With this letter, I can bribe Styphon's Own Voice to do my will." Or have them support my claims, he thought. There are some things that are best kept secret from everyone.
"Ranthos, you will be well-rewarded for your loyalty. Five thousand ounces of gold and ten square marches of good farmland to add to your barony."
"You are too kind, Your Highness. But I'll take it!"
The two men laughed.
"You both know how evil and corrupt Styphon's House is. Why don't you use this letter as a lever to bring them down?" It was obvious from her tone that Sirna was holding her anger at bay.
Phidestros shook his head: Women! "It's not that easy, Lady Sirna. First, we'd have to authenticate the missive, which would tell the world that we have broken Styphon's code. However, some princes would choose not to believe that we can do this and instead claim we are inventing these words to cause the Temple trouble. This would give Styphon's House the opportunity to tell everyone that it is a plot against the Temple instigated by myself. Their reply will be to invade Greater Beshta with Soton's Army. I would much rather watch from afar as Soton dismembers Hos-Agrys one limb at a time."
"Furthermore," Ranthos added, "releasing this letter would bring an end to our reading Styphon's House's secret communications. They would switch codes or stop sending them altogether. Then the Prince would lose his biggest advantage against the Temple."
"Exactly, Baron. No, this missive and its contents will stay in my hands only. Is that agreed?"
Ranthos nodded his acceptance.
Sirna's shoulders slumped. Phidestros realized he was losing her, but didn't know what to do about it. He certainly couldn't rebuff Lysandros' offer of a bride; after all, no woman was worth a crown.
"Now, we must decide what portions of this letter we will send to the Grand Commander."
Ranthos spoke. "Your Highness, leave it as it is, only we'll substitute my forgery for the original parchment. That way we will have Anaxthenes' code on Styphon's specially marked parchment should the need ever arise to publicly display this document."
"You're hanging a death sentence on a good man," Sirna said.
Phidestros shrugged his shoulders. "It's not our death sentence; it comes from Styphon's Own Voice. Maybe the gods will spare Prince Anaxon, or maybe he will die in battle anyway. Besides, this Prince is no friend of ours. Many good men die in wars. Is this just, maybe? Maybe not? Ask Galzar the Judge, not me."
"Yes, Your Highness," Ranthos added, "Anaxon's death will be our proof that this missive was not only written by Styphon's Voice, but carried out by his orders. Someday this letter might destroy a kingdom…"
Or create a new one, Phidestros thought to himself.
TWENTY-FIVE
What I'd like to do," Kalvan said in passable Urgothi, "is promote you to Captain-General of the Army of Thagnor."
"Why me, Your Majesty?" Errock asked, shaking his head. "You have no end of good commanders in the Army of Nos-Hostigos." Kalvan had already taken Errock's oath of fealty to Thagnor and Nos-Hostigos, but he hadn't expected a promotion. After all, he was of Grefftscharrer birth and an outlander, even here in Thagnor. At best, he'd expected the Great King to use him as an informant.
"I was just fighting your army, Sire." Not well, either, Errock thought, although that fault lies more with Prince Varrack than myself. Although in Varrack's defense, not even a better armed and trained army could have stopped King Kalvan's bold plan to storm Thagnor City.
"I need someone to head the Thagnori Army, someone that I can trust. Would it violate your Grefftscharri citizenship to become head of a possible enemy army?"
Errock almost spat on the floor; his mouth tasted of bile. "No, Your Majesty! I'm no favorite of Theovacar's; I left Greffa only days before the Royal Executioner was about to chop off my head! Theovacar's father stole our grandfather's estate, throwing my entire family out on the streets. He needed the land to reward one of his favorites. My grandfather was behind with taxes because he refused to pay 'extortion money,' as he called it, to the King. Grandfather spent his last few years in the palace dungeon. We lost everything and my father became a mercenary captain to feed us. He died in some forgotten town in Helmout, fighting barbarians from the Sea of Grass. As soon as we were old enough to hoist swords, my brother and I became Free Companions.
"When I returned to our old tarr, I killed the Baron who had my family evicted from our family home. King Theovacar branded me an outlaw. I fled Grefftscharr and fought in the Sastragath as a mercenary under one of the Hos-Ktemnoi princes who wanted to expand his holding. There I learned to speak some Zarthani, w
hich helped when I was later hired to fight in one of the Hos-Blethan border wars under Prince Stygros of Drathor. When I tired of the heat and mosquitoes, I hired on as a mercenary captain in Dorg. I served there for almost ten winters before I came to Thagnor at Varrack's request."
"I take this to mean you owe no loyalty to Theovacar?"
"If anything, Your Majesty, King Theovacar is a worse thief and murderer than his father. That's why I came to Thagnor, to command the army of his errant vassal, Prince Varrack."
Kalvan nodded. "So there is nothing to prevent you from being Captain-General of the Nos-Hostigos Army of Thagnor."
"No. It is a great honor, Your Majesty. I know that you have many able captains and generals, enough that you do not need to promote outlanders over your own."
"That is not true, Colonel Tortha is from Xiphlon. Former General Verkan, a Grefftscharrer, was the commander of my Mounted Rifles. I have many able officers, but I do not have enough to lead all my own men, not to mention the Army of Thagnor-and none, whom I trust, who speak Urgothi. We'll do the swearing-in ceremony later, before your assembled officers. I want them all to know that you have my backing and complete support."
Errock felt his back stiffen at these words. The Great King had given him a great obligation, but one that he meant to fulfill even if it meant his own death. He bowed his head.
"You have my oath of service, Your Majesty."
"Good. Now, I've just got a few questions to ask about King Theovacar."
"It's been over ten years since I've been in Greffa City, Your Majesty, but I do get news from my brother and cousins."
"Excellent," Kalvan said, after expelling another small cloud of smoke. "I already know the size of his Navy and Army; I'm just curious as to what you think Theovacar will do now that I've incorporated one of his lesser vassals into Our new kingdom."
Errock pondered for a few moments. "Your Majesty, Theovacar is wily and doesn't always react in obvious ways. However, almost all of his decisions revolve around two things: himself and the greater glory of Grefftscharr. With the improvements you're making to the Thagnor City walls and with most of the Hostigos Army soon to arrive, I do not foresee him taking any immediate military action. For one, it is already too late in the season to dispatch his Navy, most of which is on patrol elsewhere. Secondly, Theovacar knows that your Army is not only larger than his, but far better armed.
"Finally, Thagnor is a tough shell to crack. Theovacar can use his Navy to keep you stitched up and out of the Hassfryth Sea, but on the other hand you can blockade him from the Sea of Aesklos. This is the dilemma that Prince Varrack, and his forefathers, have relied upon to keep Grefftscharr's fleets at bay. Few of the other states, such as Vulthar, Zykthos or Ragyath, will support Theovacar for fear that it will only increase his power, which will be to their detriment the moment your armies are defeated. So, for this year, he will be unable to do anything."
"An astute analysis, Errock. How long do you think it will be before Theovacar is in a position to launch an attack upon Nos-Hostigos?"
"That's a difficult question, Your Majesty. Without any new allies, it will take Theovacar three or four winters to build up an army strong enough to challenge your Army of Hostigos. In that amount of time, many things can change. You have other enemies, the Grand Host of Styphon. He may decide to wait and see if they conquer you without his having to raise a sword. Of course, if the Styphoni defeat your army, then he'll have another enemy to worry over. I suspect he'll wait to see who wins, all the while building up his army and navy. It would be just like him to let the two of you whittle your forces down to nothing, then come in and conquer the survivor."
"Then, I guess, the big question is: Will King Theovacar ally himself with Styphon's House?"
"Under normal circumstances, Your Majesty, I would say no. There is no love for the false priests of Styphon in Grefftscharr. However, these are hardly typical times and Theovacar does not always see things the way his opponents, or supporters, do."
II
Nythros was surrounded and the brass guns and bombard stone throwers were taking big chunks out of the walls. The siege work is going well, Lysandros decided. Clouds of fireseed smoke from the big guns rolled over the Grand Host columns like fog banks. The last Nythrosi sortie had been three days earlier and the entire party had been slaughtered. Already ten siege towers had been built and enough timbers were cut and trimmed for another five or six.
The only failure of their initial attack was that they had been unable to catch the Nythrosi Navy napping. Most of the Navy had been out of the harbor during the initial operation and they had only been able to burn a score of ships, most of those at dock. The rest had escaped and, in daring night time sorties, were ferrying in supplies and armaments to the defenders. However, the raids were decreasing since a score of the Host's guns were mounted as shore batteries. Unfortunately, this prolonged the siege by decreasing the number of guns they were able to use for bombarding the city walls.
Enough riflemen were scattered along outside the walls to keep the Nythrosi off the parapets and so far the Host's casualties had been low. This is no Rathon City, Lysandros thought, with its guns, bastions and earthworks built by Kalvan's engineers. Any time now the Nythros City States will fall into our hands like an over-ripe apple. It's too far from Harphax City to properly govern so I'll graciously allow Aristocles to set up some sort of Styphoni-administrated government.
Then we will hunt down the Usurper, defeat his army and cut off his head. Maybe take his wife as a prisoner and bring her back to Harphax City in a cage to be hung from the City gates. Or, better yet, dress her in rags and have her serve my wife as a slave…
Lysandros' musings were cut short by the bark of Investigator Roxthar. The Investigator was accompanied by Grand Commander Aristocles, whose face was tight with anger and barely contained rage.
"What's wrong?" he asked, as the two men rode up within hearing distance.
"It is time for me to leave this dismal place," Roxthar declared. "My work is needed elsewhere. All are heretics in this wasteland!"
Good, go! was Lysandros' first thought. The mad Archpriest was a hindrance and a liability to the expedition. It was through the Investigator's efforts that the Grand Host was under the Ban of Galzar. Worst of all, Roxthar complained constantly about the lack of work, or butchery, as Lysandros saw it. Or was spouting moon-calf nonsense about Styphon that was enough to turn anyone's stomach, or-even worse-broadcasting complaints about his and Aristocles' incompetence in regards to capturing Kalvan and his subjects.
"What's the situation?" he asked Aristocles.
"The Archpriest received a letter from Lord High Marshal Xenophes recalling him to the Five Kingdoms to aid the Grand Master in his subjugation of Great King Demistophon. It's a direct contravention of Styphon's Own Voice's orders. I am in command of all of Styphon's servants among the Grand Host. I will not allow him to disobey Anaxthenes' orders!"
For a moment, Lysandros felt like a convicted criminal being torn apart by horses pulling in two different directions. He was in command of the Grand Host, but Styphon's House paid all the accounts. He could not afford to offend Aristocles, but if he had to he would. The Host's very survival depended on Roxthar not bringing his Investigation into the Middle Kingdoms. He certainly could not allow Aristocles to dictate orders to his person, or he would lose all credibility as commander.
"This misguided servant of Styphon has refused to allow me to leave with my command!" Roxthar cried.
Beyond the Investigators he'd left behind in Hostigos, Roxthar had four Temple Bands of Styphon's Own Guard and several hundred of his white-robed cohorts. No one, including Aristocles would be saddened by the departure of the Investigators, but the Temple Guard was necessary to keep some of the shakier troops from deserting.
Roxthar was fuming, but Lysandros had an idea. "Let me talk with the Grand Commander in private and we shall come to a decision."
They trotted their horses over t
o a small copse of trees. "What's your idea?" Aristocles asked.
"You do realize that having Archpriest Roxthar along on this military expedition is much the same as having a fireseed wagon trailing the Grand Host with a lit fuse, don't you?"
The Zarthani Knight commander nodded.
"What you may not know is that my Chief Intelligencer has reliable information that Archpriest Roxthar plans to Investigate all captured Urgothi prisoners for their belief in false gods."
"What?" Aristocles asked, as the blood drained from his face. "That course is madness! The Urgothi here have their own Pantheon of Gods, but many are similar to those we worship in the Great Kingdoms."
Lysandros nodded. "To us, maybe, but not to the Investigator Roxthar. To this madman, there is only one god-Styphon!"
"But this is true lunacy, Your Majesty. If we allow Roxthar to Investigate the Urgothi of Nythros, we will open Hadron's Own Pit. Who knows what further devils and demons will spill out?"
"None that we want to see, I can assure you of that," Lysandros stated. "But it is clear that allowing the Investigation to operate here will turn everyone in the Middle Kingdoms against us! We will not only have to defeat Kalvan, but every other ruler. Not even King Theovacar, if we allow Roxthar to begin his Investigation of Heresy, will be able to overlook such impiety. If Roxthar wants to leave for Hos-Agrys, let him. Otherwise, let us cut his throat like a mad dog and kill all his Investigators, too."
"I swore an oath to Grand Master Soton that I would not murder Roxthar and I swore that I would keep him out of the Five Kingdoms. I cannot break my word."