The Fireseed Wars

by John F. Carr

  Verkan made a sour face. “You’re right, it’s not good. And this is my problem, not Kalvan’s. I resigned from the Force.”

  Tortha stood up, mouth open and jowls quivering. “You can’t do that!”

  “Of course I can and did.”

  “What did Dalla say?”

  “It’s about time. She was angry, of course. She thinks I’ve made too many errors. So I told her: ‘Now it’s your turn.’“

  “I bet she took that well! And, what do you mean, now it’s her turn?”

  “Her turn in the barrel, as they say on Fourth Level. She’s my hand-picked successor. I’m through, at least for now.”

  “I hate to say it, old son, but I’m disappointed in you.”

  Verkan sighed. “I know you are, but I’ve become a bull’s-eye for everything and everyone on Home Time Line. And they all think they have a free shot coming. If it keeps up, it’s going to hurt the force.”

  “I’m not talking about your quitting; I almost did that a dozen times myself. But for leaving your beautiful wife all alone on the hot seat while you play soldier on Kalvan’s Time-Line! That strikes me as a cowardly thing to do.”

  Verkan felt his arm pulling back of its own accord; he would have punched Tortha in the mouth had the ex-Chief been a hundred years younger. “Look, you old fool, leaving Dalla in the middle of that mess was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It was Dalla’s idea that if I was going to resign, I should come here and go on sabbatical to help our friends for a year or two. She says I’d drive her crazy at home with nothing to do but second-guess her and myself. And, at home, I’d provide a convenient target for all our enemies.”

  Tortha held his palms up. “I apologize. Once again I shot my mouth off before it was loaded. Home Time Line has lasted ten thousand years without your help and I suspect it can muddle along for another few years while you’re exiled to Aryan-Transpacific. I just thought that maybe this was your way of avoiding having the baby that Dalla’s been yammering about.”

  Verkan’s laugh came out like a hack. “I only wish things were that simple. We’ve got several hundred years to worry about children. And, speaking of babies, is Rylla pregnant again?”

  “Yes, she is. She’s expecting this summer.”

  “I thought I detected a telltale bulge. This is one campaign that Kalvan’s already won. I was wondering how he was going to keep Rylla out of the saddle.”

  “No, I think this one was her idea. She’s convinced that having a male heir will cement their new Throne in Thagnor and throughout Nos-Hostigos.”

  “She’s probably right. Rylla’s got great instincts. They’re going to need all the support they can muster before this war against Styphon’s House is through.”

  III

  Even after their winter residence, Lysandros still looked around the high-domed audience room of the Nythros Palace with awe. The room was filled with beautiful tapestries and statues. Not counting the wealth in this room, they had filled almost five hundred large chests, filled to the brim with silver and gold coins, ingots, jewels, priceless jewelry and cloth-of-gold hangings; the accumulated treasure of centuries. All collected after Nythros fell. More than triple the loot they had reaped in all of Hos-Hostigos!

  When I return with this treasure--well, my half, at the very least--I will be the richest ruler in the Five Kingdoms! He and Queen Lavena could turn Harphax City into the greatest capital of all. Yes, what a handsome pair we make. He would gift her the best and most costliest of the jewels; his consort should be adorned with only the best! He would be the sun of Harphax, and she would be his moon, a golden moon.

  The clatter of boots on the mosaic tiles brought him out of his reverie. He saw Grand Commander Aristocles and two of his subordinates coming toward the throne.

  “Your Majesty, we have a problem.”

  “Kalvan? Is the Usurper’s army approaching?” I wouldn’t put it past him to try and beard us in our own city.

  “No,” Aristocles answered. “It’s those damn barbarian Ros-Zarthani. They’re deserting! They’re already several marches out of town. It appears they are headed for the Greffa Road.”

  The Greffa Road was a wide stone road that reminded him of the Great King’s Highway the Usurper had built in Hostigos. It started in Greffa City and ran through Ragnar, and from there north to Morthron and across Baltor to the Nythros City States. He doubted that Greffa City was their destination; they were probably headed back to their home across the Sea of Grass and the Great Rock Mountains.

  “They’re already too far for our infantry to catch them,” he said. “We can send the cavalry to chase them down.”

  “And then what, Your Majesty? Man for man, the Ros-Zarthani are among the finest troops we have. True, there are only eight or nine thousand of them, but they will take a lot of killing. They already have a half-day’s march on our men. True, our horse could run them down, but at what cost?”

  “What’s that parchment you’re carrying?”

  “A dispatch from Arch-Stratego Zarphu telling us that we have failed to live up to our side of the contract and that they did not sign on to be part of a siege that was poorly planned and certain to be badly executed!”

  “A coward’s response.”

  “He seemed like a damned good commander and brave man to me, Your Majesty. He helped break the Hostigos line at Ardros Field and it was his men who led that attack against the Rathon City walls and spent their blood in folly for all their sacrifice bought for the Host.”

  “You sound like you’d like to join him.” Lysandros said, as he worried over the thought that maybe Zarphu was the wisest of them all by leaving first. Well, not first. Captain-General Phidestros, at his order, held that honor.

  “That is not true. I have my orders from the Grand Master and I will obey them to the death. However, we are leaking soldiers like a snowbank melting in the summer sun. At this rate, we’ll be lucky to field sixty thousand men for our attack against Thagnor.”

  “That will be enough to do the job,” he replied. To himself he thought, if we can force Kalvan to leave his city walk and fight us. Otherwise, we will be chasing ghosts all summer. It is unfortunate that the Usurper has no honor.

  IV

  “It is good to see you, Captain-General Hestophes,” Duke Mnestros of Eubros said. They were seated inside a tavern in Eubros Town, a few marches from the palace. “I still get laughs with the story of the phony Agrysi invasion of Nyklos we staged for the Grand Host. We killed a lot of Styphon’s dogs together!”

  Hestophes nodded. While the young Duke had welcomed him profusely, he still detected a strong undercurrent of disappointment. Nor did Mnestros appear anxious to present him to his father, Prince Thykarses. Had the League of Dralm actually believed their plea would bring Kalvan himself to Hos-Agrys for their deliverance? If so, they were greater fools than anyone had previously believed.

  “I must ask, Captain-General, where is the rest of your army?”

  Now it comes. Hestophes held out his hands, palms up. “This is it. Great King Kalvan has just founded a new kingdom, Nos-Hostigos, and needs all his men to fight off the combined might of the King of Grefftscharr and Styphon’s Grand Host. Two regiments of cavalry were all the Great King could spare.”

  Mnestros was still young and could not hide the disappointment that wrote itself on his face. “I know the League is not in the Great King’s good graces at the moment, but now we are all allied in the fight against the False Temple of Styphon.”

  Hestophes nodded, “In the past, Great King Kalvan has been very disappointed in the League, as you know from your talks with him. Other than yourself, he has never received any military support from the League of Dralm. He is, however, a friend of yours, which is why he sent me and his regiments.”

  “But, we ... had hoped that King Kalvan would give us enough support that the League might send Soton and his army back to the sea from which they sprang.”

  “Then the Styphoni haven’t arrived yet?”
Hestophes asked.

  “No, but we expect them shortly. Thebra City is the only Harphaxi port large enough to hold all the ships Styphon’s House has sent to support Soton’s invasion. Styphon’s House will ship Soton’s Host of Styphon’s Deliverance to Agrys Harbor supported by an armada of ships. Great King Demistophon has recently put the Home Fleet on active duty and has emplaced more guns at the harbor forts. However, the Agrys’ Navy is small and underfunded; they will not stop Styphon’s Armada. Nor will Demistophon’s guns keep the Styphoni out of Agrys Harbor for long.”

  “With most of Hos-Harphax picked clean of soldiers for Lysandros’ Army,” Hestophes said, “I’m surprised the League didn’t assemble a force to meet Soton as his army disembarked from their galleys. That’s when Soton would have been most vulnerable. Has the League, at the very least, begun to build up an army?”

  “Yes,” the younger man said, looking sheepish. “But it will be another moon before most of them are gathered together. To date, we have only mustered about six thousand men.”

  Hestophes shook his head in disbelief. “It’s been over five moons since the League sent Great King Kalvan its request for our aid. I had fully expected to be greeted by at least three times that number!”

  Mnestros shrugged his shoulders. “Some of the Princes refused to believe that Soton would dare attack Hos-Agrys and did not call upon their liegemen for their levy. Several, such as Prince Phrynoss of Arbelon, are members of the Union of Styphon’s Friends and have actively worked against us.”

  Where have these Princes been for the past four winters? Did they foolishly believe the Fireseed War would continue to be confined only to Hos-Harphax and Hos-Hostigos?

  “Who is in command of your army?”

  “Prince Vython of Agrys. He is Great King Demistophon’s uncle and the Kingdom’s most respected general.”

  “How old is he?” Hestophes asked.

  “Over sixty-five winters, Captain-General.”

  “Then he knows nothing of the new art of war that Kalvan teaches. Soton has been a student for four winters. I will help you in your war against Styphon’s House, but only if I am given command of the League’s Army and can put my own man, General Halmoth, in charge of supplies and provisions.”

  Mnestros appeared crestfallen. “I know that you are Great King Kalvan’s greatest general, since Captain-General Harmakros died at the fall of Tarr-Hostigos and have the Great King’s complete confidence. Still, few in Hos-Agrys know of your victories. Nor do I have the authority to provide you with such powers, Captain-General. That is up to the League Council. They will be meeting in a half-moon at Tarr-Kryphlon. I will propose your election, but I can make no promises.”

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Kalvan stood on the wharf evaluating his expanding Navy. The harbor held about fifty war ships and twenty-five to thirty of the small gunboats, most tied up at the docks. Conducting a survey of the new Navy was Admiral Herad, a stocky man of middle age and size, with a nose in the shape of a turnip and gunmetal-blue eyes that could bore through decks. He was the most experienced of the Ulthori captains as well as the most respected, and just about everyone’s first choice as Supreme Admiral of the Navy of Nos-Hostigos. His handling of the Prince Ptosphes during the siege of Thagnor had only enhanced his reputation. There were some good Thagnori captains but none Kalvan trusted as much as Supreme Admiral Herad.

  With the capture of Thagnor, they had added thirty seaworthy ships and recently ten more that were repaired and refitted. There had been some other additions, six escaping Nythrosi and Morthron warships, bringing the total number to over sixty capital ships. Clearly, not enough to battle either of the Grefftscharrer fleets on equal terms, but a force formidable enough to give them pause. Which was all he needed. Once the gunboats engaged the enemy, they would be in for a big surprise.

  “We’ve put two of the new rifled sixteen-pounders on The Prince Ptosphes and two more on four of our other largest ships, Your Majesty. Is there any way you can find me a dozen more?”

  “No, Admiral,” Kalvan answered. “The new Foundry was only able to turn out twenty-four of them over the winter. I’ve already given you ten guns and most of the four and six-pounders. I’m putting eight of the rifled cannon on the outer walls, two at Vart-Burgult and two each on the gun towers on either side of Lake Suhl. I wish I had fifty more.”

  Prince Phrames, who was standing at Kalvan’s right, put in, “Admiral, those guns are fearsome. I only wish I had all of them for the outer walls. You’ll be able to shoot at the Grefftscharrer ships from twelve marches away, accurately at eight. Trust me, their Navy won’t know what’s hit them.”

  The Admiral said, “The Grefftscharrer’s best guns aren’t accurate at more than two marches. We should be able to scuttle twenty or thirty ships before they reach the harbor.”

  The Nos-Hostigos Navy’s main harbor was Lake St. Clair, or Lake Suhl, as it was called here-and-now. Kalvan had used the lake as their main base in an attempt to draw in the Grefftscharrer Fleet. He wanted them to believe their superior force could trump any Hostigi home advantage.

  He took out his pipe and filled it while he briefed his admiral on the strategy he’d worked out with Rylla. “Look, Admiral, if you start shooting and hitting Grefftscharrer ships at that distance, they’ll only pull back and halt their attack. Then they’ll set-up a blockade to keep us out of the Hassfryth Sea and the other Saltless Seas. We’ll be fighting them for the next three winters.”

  The Admiral nodded, taking out his own pipe and tobacco pouch. “I suspect they’ll blockade us either way, Your Majesty. Even if we can sail freely on the Hassfryth, there’s no way we can make portage into the Galfryth Sea or the Zaffryth Sea without Grefftscharrer permission. They have forts in place at every bottleneck.”

  Kalvan liked the way Herad was questioning his orders. In Hostigos Town, everyone had pretty much taken everything he said as their marching orders with little or no questions. If the Hostigi were to survive, they needed people who could think on their feet and ask hard questions.

  “True. I don’t expect to use this victory to open up all the Saltless Seas. My plan is to draw the Grefftscharrer Navy into an attack on the City and our naval base at Lake Suhl. Once their ships get close enough, with our gunboats and advantage in firepower, we should be able to destroy most of their fleet. What I want you to do with those new guns, is to use them as a reserve. Once the battle has begun, you can use them to thin the Grefftscharrer Fleet, but, even more importantly, those guns will be able to destroy any of those ships who break the line of battle or survive the initial attack.”

  “Aha,” the Admiral said, releasing a cloud of tobacco smoke. “You don’t want to just win this battle, you want to destroy the Grefftscharri Southern Fleet!”

  “Exactly. We’re going to use gunboats, fire ships and sheer firepower to put this half of their Navy completely out of business.”

  “This will be like no other battle in the history of the Saltless Seas, Your Majesty. It will change the face of sea warfare forever!”

  “Those are my intentions, Admiral. At whatever the cost.”

  II

  Phidestros was examining Prince Soligon’s deerskin map of Hos-Harphax in his new father-in-law’s private chamber, looking for the best place to house his troops in Thaphigos. His marriage to Arminta had gone off without any snags a moon quarter ago and it was closely approaching the time he’d planned to leave Argros for Thaphigos. Because of the Princess’ obvious joy at their union, he had received an unexpectedly warm welcome from the dour-faced Prince and the rest of his family. For the first time in his life, Phidestros had a “family.” It felt good and--had he believed in any of the Twelve Gods--he would have considered himself truly blessed.

  At the moment though, he was trying to ascertain the most strategic place to encamp his troopers. He’d only brought five thousand cavalry, including the Iron Band, with him, but those veterans of the Fireseed Wars were stronger than any Princely army in t
he Five Kingdoms. Man for man he’d match his veterans against any cavalry in the known world, including Soton’s Knights and Kalvan’s Heavy Horse.

  Prince Zylannos, the current Prince of Thaphigos, was a crony of Great King Lysandros and a second cousin to the deceased head of one of the former ruling families. Without Lysandros’ backing, Prince Zylannos would have lost his crown moons ago, as he was a loudmouthed braggart, and his support among the Thaphigosi nobility was minimal at best. He’d already survived two rebellions by blind luck. Lysandros supported him because he was one of the first nobles to plant his flag firmly in Lysandros’ camp after Great King Kaiphranos’ death.

  After meeting Zylannos at the wedding, Phidestros decided he would do his best to stay as far away from the Prince and Thaphigos Town as he could.

  He heard a knock at the door and Arminta’s voice, “Can I come in?”

  “Yes, my love.”

  Arminta came in carrying two goblets of winter wine. She gave one to Phidestros and then sat down. “Our wedding was a great success. The family is still talking about it!”

  “We had Princes from every major Princedom in Hos-Harphax, including Lysandros’ surrogate, Duke Kaphros, who attended with the Great Queen. I was surprised and pleased.”

  “My husband, you are considered a Great Captain now; they came to bathe in your glory. You are the greatest Harphaxi military leader in living memory. After all, you commanded the army that defeated the Usurper Kalvan! Many of the princes and their nobles were curious and anxious to meet you. Some out of fear, some out of curiosity. But, who would have thought Great Queen Lavena would attend? It was a signal honor.”

  “I wasn’t surprised she was there.”

  “Why?” Arminta asked. “I’ve only met her once and not at the best of times.”

  “Because you were nice to her when you met her at Tarr-Beshta. She’s been snubbed a lot by Harphaxi society, just as I would have been had I not the brains to marry you.”