Great Kings' War

by Roland Green

  Ranthar laughed. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope you're not allowing the Styphoni more common sense than they've shown thus far."

  "I'd rather give them credit for too much, than for too little."

  Ranthar nodded, and at Kalvan's gesture of dismissal bowed himself away. He suspected that Ranthar would visit the nearest tavern, probably the Crossed Halberds or Silver Stag, and have a drink or two before surrendering himself to protective custody. After he left, Kalvan directed several of his plainclothes bodyguards to discreetly follow the Trader and make certain he wasn't accosted until he was in custody.

  Left alone except for the pages and bodyguards watching him from a discreet distance, Kalvan began to pace up and down. It was now certain that Hostigos was faced with something more like a war on two fronts than a single attack with two prongs. That would throw all their strategic plans into the melting pot, and mean major changes at the last minute. Of course, it would also mean the same for the Harphaxi, and because they were so much less likely to be able to cope with last minute changes to their plans, things might just balance out.

  Kalvan decided to stop worrying about troop movements until he had a map in front of him and some reliable advice in his ear. One thing was certain: the University's next job after developing paper was going to be inventing a semaphore system. Relay riders would have to do for this campaign, but he would need something faster if he was going to have to make a habit of coordinating two or three armies spread over two or three hundred miles of real estate. Napoleon's campaign in Russia had fallen apart as much because of lack of staff communications as because of supply problems.

  Also, a system of codes—nothing fancy, simple substitution would do—for now. There was no evidence that Styphon's House used ciphers, but it needed to be confirmed. Note: Have Skranga spend whatever gold necessary to purchase an ear in the Inner Circle. The Inner Circle was as corrupt as the French Papacy had been during the Babylonian Captivity. There had to be an Archpriest for sale. Skranga's biggest problem so far was getting a spy with the proper credentials, preferably that of a Highpriest of Styphon's House. The upper priesthood of Styphon's House was as status conscious as the Court of Louis the XVI and thus almost as unapproachable. Furthermore, Balph had buttoned up its breeches and was checking credentials at the gates and docks.

  Finally, do something about the Temple's command of the sea. Styphon's House hadn't done much with it this time; until now most of the troops moving into Harphax City from the south and from Hos-Agrys had marched overland, supplied out of the Temple warehouses when they couldn't buy or forage locally. This might be about to change; one of Xentos' friends who had already reached Agrys City had written to him reporting many laden merchant vessels sailing up the Hudson and returning empty. Put Skranga on that, too. Was Great King Demistophon planning on joining the war? If so, on whose side?

  This war would be decided on land. The next time, Styphon's ships might do a lot more damage and Kalvan had no desire to play the role of the French in some here-and-now future Mahan's Influence of Seapower on the Wars Against Styphon's House.

  Royal Navy of Hos-Hostigos. Note: put on the list of long-term projects. Now what about ports; they had one on the Great Lakes—Ulthor Port; now they needed one in the Atlantic. This might mean rolling up more of Hos-Harphax than he had planned, but that would have to wait. This coming campaign would be for survival and more time. Time, the one thing Styphon's House seemed determined to deny him.

  ELEVEN

  The sunset light reddened the walls of First Speaker Anaxthenes' chamber and the smoke curling up from Soton's pipe. The First Speaker's luxurious chamber was perched at the second highest level of Styphon's High Temple. Below them all of Balph stretched as far as the Great Wharf, bathed in a sea of red.

  After his inconclusive meeting with Great King Kaiphranos, Soton had left Harphax City at the next high tide. The wine in his cup was already red; he sipped at it and tried to shut out Archpriest Roxthar's voice breathing fire and slaughter against Prince Philesteus. It was not wise to ignore Archpriest Roxthar completely even when he was apparently talking for the sheer pleasure of relieving his feelings or hearing the sound of his own voice.

  The tall, dour Archpriest made a dangerous enemy and a quarrel with him would put Soton at the mercy of Anaxthenes, who was a good deal less bloodthirsty but considerably more skilled at taking advantage of another's mistakes. Great Styphon, what I wouldn't give for a stout Lance of Knights and a band of Sastragathi berserkers to fight instead of all this verbal swordplay!

  Eventually Roxthar went off the boil and bubbled into silence. Anaxthenes refilled everybody's cups and appeared to lose himself in contemplating the sunset. From outside he could hear the muffled sounds of clanking armor and boisterous cries that signaled the changing of the watch in Balph.

  When he had his audience squirming in their seats, Anaxthenes began, "What are we to do, then, now that King Kaiphranos appears to have lost what wits he had? Roxthar, we know your advice is to deprive Kaiphranos of his Captain-General by charging Duke Aesthes with heresy. You say that with no other captain fit to command the army of Hos-Harphax against the Daemon Kalvan, Kaiphranos will either have to send Lysandros into the field or turn to Styphon's House for aid. That is wet fireseed! With Aesthes out of the field, Kaiphranos will appoint his elder son, Prince Philesteus, as commander of the Harphaxi Army—and that would be a complete disaster for Hos-Harphax and Styphon's House. As well as a gift to the Usurper! What say you, Grand Master Soton?"

  What Soton would have liked to express was his desire to spend half a candle taking his warhammer to Kaiphranos, Philesteus and Duke Aesthes. However, that course had even more disadvantages than Roxthar's since it could be seen as moving directly against Great Kings or important Princes. Styphon's House had to show itself loyal to those rulers who at least did not lift a hand against it or else mold the bullet for Kalvan to fire into its head—as some of these blockheads appeared ready to do. Unlike Roxthar, Anaxthenes appeared to have some grasp of politics outside of the Temple turkey roost.

  "Captain-General Aesthes is the only man—other than his son—King Kaiphranos will allow to lead the Royal Army of Hos-Harphax. And Philesteus would attack Kalvan's Army as if he were an Urgothi berserker and die a vainglorious and sudden death along with most of his army. We have to leave Aesthes to his own fate."

  Roxthar looked as if he wanted to spit at those last words.

  "I know these Harphaxi are hardly worth their rations and fireseed," Soton continued, "but we can't afford to lose them entirely. If nothing else, they and their followers are fifteen thousand more bodies to spend Kalvan's lead.

  "Also, Philesteus is popular with no small number of mercenary captains and certain of the Harphaxi nobility who are leading their own levies." No need to add that many of those nobles were men who had no wish to see Lysandros, the Inner Circle's favorite, on the Iron Throne of Hos-Harphax.

  "I should also say that harsh dealing with Aesthes or Philesteus might cost us the good will of men who lead ten thousand soldiers and twenty guns."

  "That seems likely enough," Anaxthenes said. "That also doesn't make it any easier for us to march with Aesthes, if the old King ever lets him march."

  From Anaxthenes' tone, the First Speaker obviously expected the Harphaxi to sit in their camps until Styphon's Second Miracle.

  "Your Eminence, there is no need for us to do likewise," Soton said. "In the field or in their camps, the Harphaxi will draw upon themselves a substantial portion of Kalvan's forces. At Tarr-Thebra, I already have five of the Sacred Squares, the Royal Square of Hos-Ktemnos, three thousand Royal Cavalry, including the Knights of the Royal Bodyguard, eight Lances of Knights and four thousand of the Order's foot. And five thousand mercenaries, with another two thousand on the way, and another Sacred Square and several thousand Holy Warriors are on their march to me. Let me stay where I am, give me sufficient stores and fireseed and I can march north to challenge Kalvan without o
ne word to Philesteus."

  "Will the captains of Hos-Ktemnos follow you in this?" Anaxthenes asked.

  "They are likely to shoot me if I don't lead them north. Cleitharses has left his best captain-generals in the western marches to guard against the Upper Sastragathi war bands. Some of these eastern Squares haven't fought a battle for two generations. This is their chance for glory and honor and they will let none stand between them and it."

  It took some time for Soton to explain what he planned to do with the Host swollen to more than twenty-five thousand men. It would have been easier with a map, of course. Soton reminded himself to make sure that any of Kalvan's mapmakers who were captured were brought straight to him. If the arts by which Kalvan made maps increase like rabbits were not demonic, they would be worth learning.

  "If the Harphaxi move at all, Kalvan will have to pit much of his strength against them. He cannot throw it all to the east because he will not want to leave himself open to an advance through Sask."

  "And if the Harphaxi do not march?" Styphon's Own Voice asked.

  "Your Divinity, when one fights the nomads, one quickly learns to spy out the land ahead as one marches. Either that or one dies young. I will have a day's warning and more on the approach of any host large enough to destroy mine, if indeed, even the Daemon Kalvan can conjure up such a thing."

  Roxthar's face was working. "And if our weakness toward the cowardly Harphaxi defiance of the God of Gods makes them abandon our cause all together?"

  "Then there will be civil war in Hos-Harphax, because not all the Harphaxi are cowards and will not sit quietly to be called such!"

  Soton knew his face must have turned the color of the sunset and he had to relax before he could trust his voice again. He removed his pipe and tobacco pouch from his belt and filled the bowl. After tamping the leaf and lighting a wooden splinter from his tinderbox, he lit the pipe, made sure the tobacco was drawing and inhaled. He took several puffs before saying, "To guard against this, another Lance is on its way north to join the three already there. That will bring the strength of Styphon's armed servants to over six thousand, including the Temple Guard, and if all else fails they can fight their way to safety."

  With an extra Lance, the Knights in the north would be equal in fighting power to the bands of Styphon's Own Guard and Knight Commander Aristocles would thus have an equal voice with the Temple Guard's Captain-General. That was worth giving up a Lance from the southern Host where the Knights of the Ktemnoi Royal Guard could do everything except scout nearly as well as the Order's Knights.

  "Is this a real possibility?" Anaxthenes asked.

  Soton inhaled deeply, then blew out a small cloud of smoke. "Yes, Your Eminence. This is why I have pressed the Inner Circle so hard to persuade Hos-Agrys to attack Kalvan in Nostor. This would force the Usurper to further divide his troops until our armies would so outnumber the Daemon's forces that even our weakest allies could bring victory home."

  Anaxthenes shrugged. "We are having problems convincing Great King Demistophon to join our war, despite lavish gifts of gold and silver for the hiring of two score of mercenary companies. If I judge his strategy correctly, Demistophon wants to wait until both Hos-Harphax and the False Kingdom of Hostigos have squandered their forces fighting each other, then attack the victor and add both kingdoms to Hos-Agrys. Using soldiers that Styphon's gold has purchased, no less!"

  "As usual," Soton spat, "a flawed analysis. Does Demistophon expect the Host of Styphon to sit upon its hands while he draws the spoils of war into his large lap?"

  The Archpriests laughed. Demistophon had the bloated bulk of three men and the prodigious appetite of twice that number.

  "He will see which way the wind blows, then come in when it suits his purpose," Styphon's Voice added. "His father before him would have done likewise. They are branches of the same tree."

  Soton felt his blood rise.

  "If this Demistophon fails to support our cause," Roxthar said in a harsh tone of voice that was more impressive than his shouts, "we will turn our wolves of war upon his bloated Kingdom. He will rue the day he took Styphon's gold and failed to give full value. It appears that all the Northern Kingdoms are rife with heresy and overflowing with worshippers of the False God. They must be made to pay for their transgressions—in blood!"

  In the hope of stopping Roxthar's inevitable harangue, Soton asked, "Your Eminence, what about the Army of Hos-Zygros? Will they join the fight against the Usurper?"

  Anaxthenes all but snarled. "King Sopharar is Kalvan's ally, all but in name only. He dillydallies and bandies words with Archpriest Idyol, but refuses to commit a single soldier to the war against the Usurper. Many Zygrosi still worship the False God and I suspect Sopharar is among their number."

  Roxthar looked like a wolf that had just bolted down a tasty morsel.

  Soton suppressed a grin of triumph at wresting a secret out of the Inner Circle. It had been clear for two moons that Great King Sopharar of Hos-Zygros would not send any of his own troops. Now it appeared the Zygrosi King was a follower of Dralm and thus an enemy of the God of Gods! There would have to be a reckoning for that, one day—much later than Roxthar would like, of course, but much sooner than the Zygrosi expected.

  Soton poured more wine and they drank toasts to Kalvan's downfall, the vengeance of the True God on False Dralm and the proper ruler for Hos-Harphax. And one to victory in the Northern Kingdoms. Soton also drank a silent toast to the Wargod for a place of honor in Galzar's Hall for the Knights he had abandoned to the Harphaxi lackwits.

  TWELVE

  I

  They held the Council of War in the Royal bedchamber.

  "You—people—would do anything to keep me walled up," Rylla protested, only half-joking. Even Rylla admitted, however, that her bedroom was the most secure room in Tarr-Hostigos that was also large enough to hold the whole council and the necessary maps. Tarr-Hostigos was no longer crammed to the rafters the way it had been five days ago, when a draft of six hundred new recruits for the pike companies was camping in the courtyard because every other place it was physically possible to quarter them was already full. It was still too crowded to make certain that everybody there was on legitimate business, or that eavesdroppers could always be kept at a safe distance from important meetings.

  Kalvan hoped this informal council wouldn't have to do more than act as a meeting of the minds among the "inner circle" of the Hostigi high command. There were going to be a good many captains among the forces of Hostigos who would take umbrage at not being able to put in their half-crown's worth at a more formal council, especially among the nobility—something Kalvan was still getting used to. Nobles here-and-now had a lot of prerogatives and they guarded them as jealously as Styphon's House upperpriests protected their collection boxes. Some of them might even think of taking their troops out of the campaign.

  Hoping was the best Kalvan could do. It seemed far more likely that this was as much a council of war as this campaign would have. They were no longer preparing for the invasion of Hos-Harphax; now it was a war on two fronts against two different armies of conquest. The army would have to be on the march before all the princes and captains could be gathered in one place. Napoleon had said, "Ask me for anything but time," and time was running out.

  Correction: The armies would have to be on the march fairly soon. It was obvious even to Chartiphon, when they studied the map, the Hostigi army was going to have to be divided into two forces. The odds were that for most of the campaign the army moving against Harphax would out of supporting distance and even out of easy communication with the army facing the Ktemnoi and Zarthani Knights. Had it been possible, Kalvan would have preferred fighting them on their turf, not his. But he couldn't afford to extend his forces too far into hostile territory. If either of his armies suffered a setback, he needed the other army as close as possible. This also meant it was unlikely that he'd be able to deliver Hos-Harphax the knockout blow he'd intended.

  Kalvan call
ed for suggestions for names of the armies.

  The one he would be leading personally against Harphax wound up the Army of the Harph: the one Ptosphes and Chartiphon would lead in the west was christened the Army of the Besh. Once they knew what to call the two armies, they got down to the more serious business of what troops should be assigned to each one.

  "We can't do too much shuffling," Kalvan emphasized. "Moving infantry exhausts them and takes time. Moving cavalry around takes less time, but it wears out horses and uses up forage. As for moving artillery, forget it. Also, we don't want to take anyone away from Harmakros' Army of Observation. They all know the territory they'll be fighting over like their father's backyards by now. Out west they'll be much less useful."

  "That is true, only up to a point, Your Majesty," Chartiphon said.

  Kalvan suppressed a sigh. Chartiphon only became formal when he was going to be stubborn and when he was stubborn he made mules look docile. "Harmakros also has the best-trained scouts in all the strength of Hostigos and the Army of the Besh will need every one of those to be sure of even finding our enemies. Remember what Klestreus has said about how good the Knights are at concealing their movements."

  Kalvan couldn't recall when or even whether or not Klestreus had said that, but it certainly agreed with everything he'd heard or guessed about the Knights. Ptosphes was nodding, obviously in agreement with his Captain-General and old friend; Klestreus was as close to looking embarrassed as he ever seen him. Obviously, he wasn't accustomed to being dragged into this kind of high-level argument over strategy, which wasn't really his fault; of course, here-and-now warfare had been much simpler when he was learning it.

  Count Phrames, travel-stained and weary from his three-day ride over the rough trails that constituted roads in their portion of what had once been Hos-Harphax, bent over the map. He was looking at the squares of red parchment centered around Thebra City, the here-and-now equivalent of Fredericksburg, Virginia and the northernmost major fortress of Hos-Ktemnos.