by John F. Carr
Aranth looked over the table, spotted Hestophes and nodded, indicating they would talk later.
Xentos went to the head of the table, forcing the Speaker, Prince Kyphanes, to vacate his seat and skulk away. The Primate turned to face the assembled Princes. His new role in the Temple had changed him, Hestophes thought. It is as if Xentos has been touched by the hand of Dralm and now has an aura of power surrounding him!
When Primate Xentos had everyone’s undivided attention, he began: “The Spirit of the Allfather has been invoked. You are Dralm’s Princes, gathered here in Sacred Council to do His work. In good times Dralm is the God of Peace, but when His Temple is threatened He is the God of Wrath. At this very moment, Dralm’s Temple and His priests are in peril from the Godless Heathens who call themselves worshippers of Styphon! It is up to you to destroy them!”
Xentos paused dramatically and cried out. “I had a dream!” Stretching his arms toward the sky, he continued in a lower voice, “In this dream the False Priests of Styphon were hurling burning stones and balls of fire upon our land, tilling the soil of Hos-Agrys and watering it with the blood of the Allfather’s faithful. Then suddenly the clouds broke and beams of light arced down from above, shattering the False Idols of Styphon and incinerating his priests. And a voice cried: ‘Primate, bring together my squabbling children and set them upon the Godless worshippers and false priests of Styphon!’”
Hestophes wondered why it had taken so long for Xentos to have his “vision.” Where had the Primate been when Hostigos had needed Dralm’s and the League of Dralm’s help? Nor could he help but notice that most of the Princes were squirming in their seats or staring at the Primate enraptured. Xentos continued on in this vein until everyone at the table was either under his spell or about to fall asleep.
Then he caught Hestophes’ attention with this pronouncement. “I have been told to expect a leader from the west to come and lead our Army of Dralm. Now, I arrive at Tarr-Kryphlon and find that man, sent by the Allfather, sitting at the Council Table, Dralm be praised. A miracle!”
He pointed to Hestophes saying, “Here is our commander, Captain-General Hestophes, sent by the Allfather to lead the Army of Dralm! A man who has fought at Kalvan’s side for four winters.”
Every eye at the table was on him. He didn’t have time to be nervous about such exalted company, and years at the Hostigos Court had taught him that even nobles put their boots on one at a time--just as commoners did. He rose to his feet and walked up to Primate Xentos’ side. “I will command the unified Army of Dralm on one condition. That is, that I am solely in charge. I will brook no arguments and disobedience from anyone; otherwise, I will return to Nos-Hostigos. There is much work there that remains to be done.”
Xentos cried out. “You will have your command, Captain-General.” He turned his fierce gaze upon the assembled Princes. “Do I have all of your oaths?”
“Not mine, old man!” Prince Aesklos shouted, as he stood and kicked his seat aside.
“Back to Styphon, you double-dealing lapdog,” cried Prince Tyromanes of Thebra, pulling out his poignard.
“No blood will be spilled today!” Xentos demanded.
Two Princes rose up to stop him, while Aesklos stomped out of the hall.
“Good riddance,” Prince Clytos of Glarth cried. “We should have never trusted a turnface in our councils.”
Xentos face was impassive. “Is there anyone else who wishes to challenge the Allfather’s orders?”
The Hall was as silent as the Great Temple before the morning prayers.
“I ask for the Council to vote upon Captain-General Hestophes’ election to Captain-General of the Army of Dralm. All in favor, raise your arms.”
Only three of the princes raised their arms: the rest looked doleful.
Prince Kyphanes rose to his feet. “While it will be helpful to have one of Kalvan’s great generals among our own, we need a leader who will command obedience from all our men. A man such as Prince Vython, who is related by blood to Great King Demistophon. As Prince of Agrys, he will bring the largest army in the Kingdom and his weight will sway even those who are not fully committed to our cause.”
“How say you, fellow Princes?”
All the Princes, including the three who had voted for Hestophes, raised their arms. Hestophes knew it was a done deal despite the red that showed on Xentos’ face.
Xentos turned to him, whispering, “I fear if we challenge them on this question, the whole plan will unravel. You are not known to the Princes, nor do they believe in Kalvans infallibility after his retreat from Hos-Hostigos. I know in my heart that you are the best commander, and the only one who has fought our foes. Your time will come later.”
Hestophes was both relieved and stymied. He didn’t want to command later, because if there was a “later” it would only be after the League’s Army had gone down in defeat.
Xentos banged the table with his staff. “It is now agreed by the full Council of Dralm in the Moon of Long Grass that Prince Vython, Prince of Agrys, will be the Grand Commander of the League of Dralm’s Army. All praise the Allfather for his wisdom and expediency!”
“Praise Allfather Dralm,” echoed all those seated at the Council Table.
“Time is our enemy,” Xentos continued. “Grand Master Soton and his army are already at the City Gates. Prince Vython, tell the Council what men and supplies the Army of Dralm will require.”
III
Hestophes, with two of his bodyguards, and Primate Xentos were seated in one of the castle’s lesser chambers. During the Council, at the Primate’s recommendation, they had appointed Duke Mnestros, the only Agrysi at the table who had fought in the Fireseed War, as second-in-command. That had not been a popular decision among the Agrysi Princes, who all believed their princely titles made them eligible for command, but Prince Clytos of Glarth’s support had made the difference.
“Primate, it is good to see you.”
“And you, as well, Captain-General Hestophes. I’m sorry that these foolish men do not listen to the Allfather’s commands. I fear we shall all pay for their folly.”
“I am not surprised by their reluctance; after all, I am an outlander and one of Kalvan’s generals. I’ve learned a lot of things, both in victory and defeat.”
“It often takes adversity to bring out the best in a man. And, I know that Hostigos has seen a great deal of trouble since I was last there. Some of which may be rightfully laid at my hearth. Would I be wrong to say that I believe I am no longer in the good graces of Great King Kalvan and Queen Rylla?”
Hestophes tried to think of a way to honeycoat his words, but none came to mind. “No, you would not be wrong, Primate. Great King Kalvan remains disappointed that you were unable to marshal support for Hostigos from the League, while Queen Rylla believes you have betrayed your people and your office.”
Xentos cleared his throat, then looked down at the marble flooring. “I would expect no less. There is much truth in her words, although in my defense I will say that I have always believed I was doing the Will of Dralm. However, it must also be said that the Allfather’s Will is not always easy for mortal men to discern.”
Hestophes replied, “Everyone--even the Great King--finds it difficult to live up to Great Queen Rylla’s expectations. However, I am certain that Their Majesties would approve of your actions here today. Kalvan himself asked me to seek out your support for the war against Styphon’s House.”
“Praise Dralm, Hestophes. You are a good man and a worthy captain-general in the eyes of man and gods. The League will come to rue the day they passed you over and placed command of the League’s Army in Prince Vython’s hands. Politics often reigns over good judgment. Regardless, I fear we are already too late to save Agrys City.”
Hestophes nodded. “That is true. The Styphoni Fleet owns the harbor. Grand Master Soton has learned much these past four years and will breach the walls of Agrys City even if it takes him an entire campaign season. Our best hope is to gat
her our forces quickly and march on the City before it falls, when his army is most vulnerable. Even should he sack and hold the City, Soton will find it much harder to subdue the countryside. As Kalvan would say, ‘we will dog his every step and bite him in the arse at every bend.”‘
Xentos smiled wryly. “I miss those carefree days when Hostigos only had Gormoth of Nostor and Sarrask of Sask as enemies. I have always enjoyed Their Majesties’ company. Now, Gormoth and my old friends Ptosphes and Harmakros are dead, and, miracle of miracles, Sarrask is now one of Kalvans paladins!” He shook his head in befuddlement as though confused by the will of the gods. “And, for now, the moment of our salvation is in uncertain hands.”
“I will do my best to aid the League, for what I lack in men I make up for in resolve.”
Xentos nodded. “The League expected a real army from Kalvan, although I can’t imagine why, since they gave him none. It is enough in my eyes that he sent his greatest Captain-General and two companies. I fear this war will not go well. The Princes of Agrys have fought each other and their Great King for so long that it will be difficult to set them into the same harness.”
Hestophes took out his pipe and tobacco pouch. “That is just the first of many problems their new commander will face. I’m almost glad that I will have no more pressing command than the reserve. Now, I have a question for you, Primate: Who is this Baron Ranthos you brought to the Council? The last time I saw him he was at the Royal Foundry in Hostigos and he was called Aranth.”
“He told me that while the Foundry was under attack, he managed to escape the looting and destruction that followed. As far as Ranthos knows, everyone else at the compound was killed by the Red Hand. After recovering from a head wound, he met up with other refugees, deserters from the disaster at Phyrax Field and escapees from the cursed Investigation. To survive the Investigation, he organized the men into a fighting band. They preyed on small parties of Investigators by dressing in the uniforms of Styphon’s Own Guard. His words were verified by the Hostigi in his company, several of whom I had known previously from Temple services.
“When pursuit by the Styphoni forces became too pressing, Ranthos contacted Captain-General Phidestros and offered to support him in Beshta. You might be unaware of this, but Great King Lysandros, in return for his victory over King Kalvan, gave Phidestros the Princedoms of Beshta and Sashta as boons for his successes. Phidestros was worried that Roxthar’s Investigation might reach into his own Princedoms. For amnesty for himself and his men, Ranthos swore an oath of fealty to Phidestros and promised to protect his subjects from Roxthar and other bandits. He was quite successful in his efforts. Successful enough that Phidestros elevated him to baron.”
Hestophes took out his pipe and opened his tobacco pouch. “I am attempting to view this dispassionately, as our Great King counsels. Still, I find it difficult to see our own vassals as the loyal subjects of one of our sworn enemies. Yet, having been in Hostigos when the Trail of Blood began, I find it difficult to criticize even a dishonorable exit from the Investigation and horrors that followed. “I might have done the same thing myself, to one day strike back at Styphon’s House.”
Xentos nodded. “The men who have sworn to Baron Ranthos say he is fair in his orders and in all ways performs in an honorable manner. Nor is he a lickspittle at Phidestros’ Court; the new Prince uses him wisely and it was the Prince who suggested that Grand-Captain Ranthos join the League’s Army as former Hostigi. It appears that his Prince does not want to see Styphon’s House gain in power at another ruler’s expense. That his Prince believes that Baron Ranthos, well-provisioned and with several hundred of the Prince’s own troops, might be an important addition to the League’s forces says much about Ranthos’ esteem in the eyes of his Prince.
“Phidestros is no fool,” Hestophes said. “Hos-Harphax is probably the next Great Kingdom to come under attack the moment Soton subdues Hos-Agrys.”
Hestophes took a moment to spark his pipe tobacco. He drew deeply and said, “It is also truth that Aranth, or Ranthos as he calls himself now, was and is a Citizen of Grefftscharr and was sworn to Great King Kalvan as a guard for the Royal Foundry of Hostigos, which no longer exists. Therefore, he did not commit treason in swearing fealty to Prince Phidestros in his efforts to protect himself and those under his charge. If you truly believe Ranthos will obey his oaths and all orders, I will put him on the League’s muster roll.”
Xentos bowed his head and said a short prayer. “Great King Kalvan was truly wise to send you as his personal arm. Yes, Captain-General Hestophes, I believe Ranthos will be faithful to his oaths and your orders so long as he can draw a sword.”
Under his breath, Hestophes heard Xentos mutter, “I only wish I could be of as much use.”
THIRTY-NINE
So this is mighty Greffa City, Kalvan thought to himself. It looks a bit like Acre, the old Crusader city. I hope it’s not as hard a nut to crack.
The Army of Greffa had faced little opposition as they approached the City, as most of the villages and farms that dotted the land had been deserted. He assumed most of the peasants and villagers were encamped behind the great curtain wall that surrounded the city. It was common practice here-and-now during sieges to kill or run off the peasants, loot and burn their cottages and fire the towns.
The few soldiers they’d captured had cursed Theovacar for taking the army and leaving Greffa City poorly defended. But not quite undefended: there were about five thousand garrison troops and another two to three thousand “volunteer militia” who’d been given crossbows, half-pikes and halberds. According to Count Vinaldos, less than half of the Greffan militia had any military experience and he expected that they’d fold at the first real exchange of firepower once the Hostigi breached the City Walls.
Last night they had taken one of the nearby towns along the Galfryth Sea (Lake Michigan) and captured several small boats and one larger trading vessel. They’d put the four lighter guns on the fishing boats and loaded the two-masted merchant ship with fireseed and tar. Verkan had led the night attack on Greffa Harbor, where they had burned eight warships tied up at the dock and destroyed three others in the harbor along with a score of merchant and fishing boats. Squat fingers of black smoke were still rising from several of the vessels that had been too close to shore to founder.
Verkan had left several companies of Ulthori soldiers, familiar with boats, to man their small ad hoc navy and keep supplies and reinforcements from entering Greffa Harbor. They’d be all right as long as Theovacar didn’t send the Grefftscharr Fleet back. Verkan had also brought back two boats loaded with fish, which were heartily welcomed by the troops. Traveling on horseback had restricted their foraging and the men were tired of stale bread, succotash, squash and buffalo jerky.
Colonel Catos, the officer in charge of the Army of Greffa Royal Artillery, rode up on his horse, saying, “With Galzar’s help, Your Majesty, we shall break these walls down within a moon.”
Catos was another of his bright and upcoming young men who would get an opportunity to prove himself in this spring’s campaigns. Still, Kalvan would have preferred to have old Thalmoth, who’d died defending Tarr-Hostigos, or General Alkides who was in charge of the guns defending Thagnor City. Catos was long on ideas, but short on experience.
“The gods help those who help themselves,” Kalvan answered, quoting one of his father’s favorite aphorisms. He wondered once again what his minister father would think of here-and-now’s pantheon of gods and goddesses. He remembered one of his father’s quotations on the subject from Exodus: “Thou shalt not make unto me any graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. Tnou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them ...”
Once his father recovered from the shock of finding himself here-and-now, he would’ve spent the rest of his days trying to convert the heathen to Christianity.
Catos wheeled his horse and rode away to talk o
ver the siege with his officers.
Captain-General Verkan sidled up and leaned over in his saddle, asking, “How many of the artillery shells did we bring with us, Your Majesty?”
Kalvan leaned back in his saddle trying to recall the exact number. “We brought fifty. We left most of them as surprises for the Grand Host.”
Verkan grinned. “They’ll be surprised all right, when they get some lobbed into their laps!”
II
Colonel Catos returned a candle later, saying: “Your Majesty, my officers believe the gatehouse is too strong for a direct attack. It has two outside towers and is made of solid stone reinforced with iron bars and runs almost a quarter of a march long. It runs to a tunnel inside the walls, with three inner gates all with iron doors.”
“That’s what Captain-General Verkan was telling me. They needed a strongly fortified gatehouse to keep the nomads out. He suggests we forget the barbican and breach one of the outer walls.”
I could sure use a good Mobil road map right about now, Kalvan thought. They had passed Lake Calumet, which was about ten miles behind them. Too far for all the animals, water and the sanitary requirements of a long siege. According to Verkan, the city had an extensive network of cisterns and reservoirs or he might have considered damming up the Chicago River. However, that would have only hurt the noncombatants and he had some plans for them after the siege that making them angry at him might foul-up. He wanted to undermine Theovacar’s rule far more than he wanted to punish Greffa City and its inhabitants.
The best place for a base might be at Riverside in west Cook County. There they’d have plenty of water and plenty of space to work in.