The Fireseed Wars

by John F. Carr

  Reaching into his tobacco pouch, Kalvan put some fresh flakes into the bowl, tamping them down lightly with his golden halberd-headed tamper. His fingers were half-frozen from the cold, making lighting his tinderbox a fumble-fingered affair. When the pipe was drawing well, he inhaled.

  “You want the truth, Aspasthar,” Kalvan said, after expelling a cloud of tobacco smoke. “I don’t have an answer. Right now, without divine intervention from Dralm, it doesn’t look as if we’ll ever return to Old Hostigos.”

  Kalvan ignored the sudden whitening of Aspasthar’s face. The boy had lost his father, Harmakros, and his home in the space of a moon. Yet, he’d still had the courage and forthrightness to organize the cadets at the Military Academy in the defense of Hostigos, delaying the Grand Host’s siege of Tarr-Hostigos by several critical days. The bodies of almost a thousand cadets had been left behind to fertilize the soil of Hostigos. He deserved an honest answer.

  “I believe with a little time and good fortune we can hold Thagnor against the Grand Host; this place is much more defensible than Hostigos ever was. And a lot farther from Styphon’s House’s base of operations. How long we can make a stand here without some help in the form of allies is another good question. And another one I don’t have an answer for. A lot depends upon King Theovacar, as well as our own steadfastness. The best I can tell you is that I don’t plan to leave Thagnor City on two legs unless we’re returning to Old Hostigos.”

  Highpriest Mytron made a circle with his right forefinger around the white star on his blue robe. “May Dralm Bless Your Majesty and the Hostigi People.”

  “Dralm helps those who help themselves,” Kalvan said before he caught himself.

  “Is there some way we may yet return to Hostigos?” the young man asked, his voice trembling.

  “I will do my best to see that we reclaim our homeland,” Kalvan said, with mental reservations. The problem that Rylla, Mytron, Aspasthar and all the rest didn’t seem to understand was that Hostigos--as they knew it--no longer existed. It was a barren wasteland and it might take five to ten years of hard work to give it life again. Meanwhile, life there would be brutal, nasty and short--And only if Styphon’s House and Great King Lysandros allowed them the luxury of reclaiming their territory.

  Ermut cleared his throat, indicating that he had finished his sketch of the Thagnor City Walls, using an X to show their current locations. He pointed to the X, saying, “If we move this second wall out here and out there, we can enlarge it so that it encircles the University. We can actually run this arm out as a bastion and put some guns here and right there. That way, if the Styphoni make a breach in the third wall, we’ll have lots of protection.

  “If we use some of our military students to design the bastion and build it, we can count it as part of their curriculum, giving them some ‘practical education’ as Your Majesty calls it. I can have the University’s Engineering Department oversee the construction. In fact, the new University won’t be fully open until summer so we can draft the stronger students and use their muscles to help build the wall.”

  “A great idea, Ermut. You just solved our problem. We can dedicate this building and the grounds to the new University as soon as we buy up several of the surrounding properties.” He paused to point out four or five apartments and a big mill.

  “Next, I want to try to find the best location for the Military Sciences building and the new Engineering building. Captain Nathros I want you to head up the new Engineering College as Rector.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty!” Nathros bowed deeply. “I will do my best.”

  “You’ll report directly to Dean Ermut. Also, it’s time I promoted you to a proper grade.” He grabbed the hilt of his sword and removed it from its sheath while Nathros got down on his knees. Kalvan had adopted some chivalric methods from otherwhen to move things along so he didn’t have to consult with his overworked quartermaster clerks over every promotion. “I, Great King Kalvan, promote thee, Nathros of Hostigos, as Colonel Nathros of the Royal Army of Nos-Hostigos.” He looked over at his adjutant. “Mykos, make sure you record this promotion and turn it over to the Quartermaster General.”

  Nathros was beaming and young Aspasthar was wide-eyed, probably dreaming of the day when he would receive his own kingly promotion.

  “Now, before I get distracted with something else. Nathros, I want you to change the design of our flintlocks. Here are some drawings I made myself.”

  Nathros looked at rough ink drawings on the parchment, his brow furrowed. “This lock design appears more efficient, but I don’t see any real improvement over the present model, Your Majesty.”

  “It has one very big advantage. When a musket is dropped or lost on the battlefields, there’s nothing stopping the enemy from picking it up and firing it at our own men.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  “With this new front-acting design, the enemy will be confused and uncertain as to whether or not it will work. The slower witted might even think it will shoot backwards! Plus, this new design will be the property of the Royal Gunsmiths and Riflemakers Guilds. The Royal Army will only buy the new locks. This will go a long way towards shutting down the inefficient older Guilds, who still thwart my decrees and requests for bore standardization and rifles.”

  Chancellor Mytron frowned, saying, “This will truly anger the Hostigos Council of Guilds. As soon as word of this leaks out of the palace, I will have Guildmaster Dyag beating upon my door!”

  “I hope he does. It’s time the Council of Guilds learned that we’re no longer in Hostigos Town and that the old ways of doing things stayed there. We have a fresh parchment here and I’m going to make some real changes. If Dyag or anyone else gives you any trouble, tell them to come see me!”

  Kalvan turned to Master Ermut, “While the new university buildings are being constructed, I want you to find places for another paper mill, three fireseed works--two inside the third wall and one inside the second wall--so that we are not dependent upon outside supplies for fireseed--as well as two or three stills for the new distillery.”

  “Do we have a good source yet for sulfur, Your Majesty?”

  “I believe so. There’s a sulfur spring in Rathon, about forty marches southwest of Rathon City.” It had been called White Sulphur Spring, if Kalvan’s memory served him correctly. He remembered hearing about it from his aunt who had visited the spa as a child. He’d already sent several miners and a pouch to Chartiphon, giving him orders and directions on how to set up a sulfur recovery station there. He had pointed out in his letter how important the place was and told him to build a big fort overseeing the springs. He also had standing orders to buy any sulfur that the sea merchants brought to port.

  Dean Ermut rubbed his hands. “Great, Your Majesty! I have the local farmers and peasants building saltpeter traps. They already have excellent charcoal pits in the city. We should see the first new fireseed by midwinter.”

  “Excellent. I also want to re-establish the Hostigos Military Academy, only we’ll found twenty to thirty of them instead of one big facility.”

  “Why so many, sire?” Aspasthar asked.

  “First, there are now about forty to fifty thousand new Hostigi orphans due to Roxthar’s Investigation and the migration from Hostigos. A few will be adopted but most will be left in our care. So we will need a lot more housing. We also want one Academy for girls only, but this one will also be dedicated to Tranth and Yirtta, as well as Galzar God of War.”

  Aspasthar, who had been made Commandant of Cadets, asked, “What does Queen Rylla think of this?”

  “We’re in agreement. Few of the girls in the Hostigos Academy wanted to be career soldiers, as I suspected. It runs against too many of the Zarthani codes of proper conduct, as I explained to Her Majesty. She’s come to accept it, as long as those girls who want to join the Pioneers have a place to learn the military arts. The other girls will be trained in crafts, weaving, spinning, cooking and household duties.

  “
The other academies will be divided by age. I want junior academies for the younger boys where they can get more individual attention, some parenting and learn the basics of military life. There will be others for those who are approaching manhood. Finally, I’d like to create a senior academy, which will be known as the Royal Military Academy and offer training to older cadets and potential officers. It will work in conjunction with Military Science Department in the University of Hostigos. You will be in charge of all the cadets.”

  Aspasthar grinned and then grew serious. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “The original cadets set such a high standard in helping evacuate Hostigos that we anticipate very few problems mixing the new Zarthani orphans with the Urgothi orphans. Plus, the Urgothi children have the advantage of knowing the system; this will go a long way into making them good subjects of Nos-Hostigos. Nor does it hurt that we will be enrolling several thousand Thagnori orphans in the Academies, who will have the advantage of knowing the local area and customs. We will be teaching mandatory language lessons in both Zarthani and Urgothi. Someday these children will be the bridge between both cultures.”

  “And some of your best soldiers, if I have anything to say about it!” Aspasthar promised.

  Kalvan was sure the lad was right. He patted Aspasthar’s shoulders. Someday this young man would be all the soldier his father had been.

  Highpriest Mytron smiled. “This is a good thing, Your Majesty. Not only are you training tomorrow’s soldiers, but you are creating the new subjects of Nos-Hostigos.”

  They were all discussing the site for the new Royal Military Academy when a couple of riders in Hostigi colors rode up. He recognized several of the men but was surprised to see Captain Jephros, one of Phrames’ captains, among them.

  “Your Majesty!” cried the highest ranker.

  “Yes, what’s up?”

  “Captain Jephros just arrived from the Buffalo Party, and Colonel Leukestros thought you should see him right away.”

  Jephros was winded. Kalvan gave him a few moments to catch his breath.

  “Report, Captain.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. We had a very successful buffalo hunt; the beasts carpet the prairie like locusts. We had a hundred wagons of buffalo hides and three times that of salted meat when we were attacked by a large party of nomads.”

  “Was Captain Halgoth able to identify them?”

  “No, Your Majesty. There were several large northern tribes banded together in a large war party. None of them were familiar to Grand-Captain Halgoth. Captain-General Phrames was suspicious because they attempted a surprise attack, which is unusual for the northern tribes. They also had more calivers than one would expect, and plenty of fireseed.”

  “Does he believe they were aided by the Styphon’s Grand Host?”

  “No, Your Majesty. He believes they were led by Greffan agents, possibly sent by King Theovacar to harass our party.”

  This was as close to a declaration of war as they gave here-and-now. Kalvan wondered, Is Theovacar in league with Styphon’s House? If so, it would greatly complicate matters. “How did our troops fare?”

  “Very well, sire. The gun carts worked marvelously well. As soon as the nomads drew within range, the Captain-General had us lower the tailgates and fire the case shot. At the same time, the hidden soldiers raised the canvas on their wagons and fired their muskets. The Urgothi slaughter was horrendous. They left behind almost two thousand bodies. We cut the throats of all the wounded and circled the wagons. Captain-General Phrames had me and my squad slip out before they regrouped for another attack.”

  By Galzar! Phrames had him cut their throats! Things must really be bad. “How many men are you up against?”

  “Twenty to twenty-five thousand, Your Majesty. Although there may be more on the way.”

  Kalvan thought carefully before saying, “Phrames should have enough men to stop the nomads. Why were you sent ahead?”

  “They were shooting fire arrows at the wagons, Your Majesty. The Captain-General believes they are trying to destroy our cargo, not our party. Every time we get wagons ready to go, they attack. Phrames suspects they may be waiting for reinforcements.”

  Kalvan nodded. That kind of strategy stinks of Theovacar’s touch. The King must realize how short their rations were. “What does Phrames want?”

  “He wants Your Majesty to send him enough men to protect the wagon train. He suggested you send Captain-General Hestophes with the Mobile Force.”

  Kalvan smiled. “Good timing.” Hestophes and the Mobile Force were well rested after their journey from Rathon City. They would certainly prefer fighting barbarian tribesmen to moving dirt and rocks. “I’ll send the Mobile Force, along with Captain-General Errock with five hundred Thagnori lancers and two thousand Royal Army heavy cavalry. Let’s put the fear of Ormaz into these barbarians!”

  “Aye, aye, Your Majesty!”

  TWENTY-NINE

  On this visit, Great King Lysandros was escorted straight through the White Palace to King Theovacar’s private audience room by four of the King’s Companions for a private meeting. Lysandros had spent the last moon quarter in one of the Theovacar’s summer palaces, an old and drafty one. He was beginning to rue the day he decided to come to the City of Wind, as it was called by the Greffans. He hadn’t known the meaning of the word cold until he’d been caught in the open in the streets of Greffa after attending a local banquet. Both his ears had turned blue and he’d almost lost two toes to frostbite.

  King Theovacar, his eyes bloodshot around ice-blue pupils, motioned Lysandros to a chair. There were new lines in the King’s face and it appeared as though he hadn’t slept in two or three nights. The King bored right in, no formalities today. “We have been giving your words a lot of consideration. It has also come to Our attention, since Our last meeting that the Usurper Kalvan has sent out a large expedition to hunt our buffalo and espy our lands. We have encouraged some of our barbarian allies to attack their expedition. When will this false king’s effrontery end?”

  Lysandros had to make an effort to keep the smile he felt off his lips and out of his words. “The Usurper’s ambition knows no bounds, as we in Hos-Harphax learned to our dismay. I have pledged my life and all my resources to his destruction and death. No kingdom, no princedom, no fiefdom anywhere will be safe until this bandit is captured and beheaded.”

  “I’m beginning to agree with you, Lysandros. Kalvan is a plague on both our Houses! I will make a treaty with you, but not with the false priests of Styphon. They have cheated and defrauded us for generations; I will not give them a foothold in Grefftscharr.”

  “You are wise not to do so, Theovacar. The priests of Styphon’s House come into a kingdom offering gold and fireseed, but in reality they are golden chains and fool’s fire. Soon they are ordering you and your people around, as if they are the lords and you are but a serf. I was forced to take their gold because my older brother, Great King Kaiphranos, was a witling, who neither tilled the fields nor fed the beasts. I inherited an empty larder and his mountainous debts to Styphon’s House. One day our accounts will be balanced, in blood if necessary, but I will not carry Styphon’s chains forever.”

  Theovacar appeared surprised by his blunt words. “I suspected it was such. You don’t appear to me to be the kind of ruler that dances to another’s flute.”

  “I’m not, but until I vanquish the Usurper, I have to act as their tool. However, this tool has two blades and after the Usurper is dead, I will balance my accounts. Until then, these things are best kept between the two of us.”

  Lysandros knew he’d said more than was advisable, but he also knew that Theovacar was a ruler who saw things as they were, not as he wanted them to be. The only way to deal with such a man was to use the truth like a bludgeon. If Theovacar planned to make friendly overtures to Styphon’s House later, Lysandros could always dissemble his words and claim that he was misquoted or maligned. He doubted that would happen. Theovacar was not the kind of man to pawn
his kingdom for mere gold.

  “Your words are safe with me. I have little to do with priests in any case. What do they know of war?”

  Lysandros grinned. “Very little, except for the Order of Zarthani Knights. After the winter ice has thawed, I suggest we strike Thagnor hard and fast.”

  “Agreed. My forces will attack Thagnor from upstream. My Navy will set up a blockade and destroy their ships.”

  “The Grand Host will strike from downstream.”

  Theovacar nodded. “I will provide you with maps of Thagnor and guides to show you the best routes.”

  “Yes, and we can send you fireseed and those arquebuses I promised.”

  “We will put this Kalvan in a vise,” Theovacar said with a smile. “And we’ll crack the nut of Thagnor until he pops out.” He brought his hands together with a loud clap. “This time there will be no escape.”

  II

  BANG! BANG!

  Xentos jumped when he heard the banging on his door. His nerves still hadn’t completely recovered from the last attack, when Styphon’s agents had blown his door off its hinges. The new temporary door was made of thick oak but it was only hung with leather hinges and was still reverberating from the force of the blows. “Who is it?” he demanded, with his right hand grasping the handle of his dagger.

  “It’s Highpriest Davros. You have a visitor, Primate.”

  “Is it necessary to break my door down, Davros? The Temple has not fallen yet!”

  “I’m sorry, Your Eminence, but he carries a most urgent message.”

  “Come in.”

  Davros, in a white robe with an eight-pointed blue star on his breast, walked into the room followed by a much younger man wearing a black traveler’s cloak. “Your Eminence, we have an important visitor from Balph.”