The Fireseed Wars

by John F. Carr

  The six regular cannon fired at the same time, shaking the tower floor. Rylla was glad that Kalvan had had his engineers rebuild the North Tower, putting in reinforcing beams, as it was never designed for this much concentrated firepower.

  Three of the shots went wild, but two struck ships and another shaved off the aft mast of a tall schooner. Most of the enemy ships were now firing back at the Hostigi vessels, although without great effect. One big Grefftscharr galley struck a Hostigi schooner amidships with its ram. The port side of the smaller ship caved in, tossing its main mast overboard and taking in water. It foundered quickly, even before the sailors could abandon ship.

  Then the four rifled eighteen-pounders went off. Their fire was concentrated on the nearest enemy vessel, which visibly shuddered when three of the four shots struck her midship. One of the shots must have gone through the bottom because the ship suddenly listed, then turned over, tossing crew, masts and guns aside. To the sailors aboard the ship it must have seemed as though Thanor, God of Thunder, had dropped his anvil onto their ship.

  Suddenly the two battle lines merged and the fire from the Hostigi ships could be heard like distant thunder upon the tower top. From her perch, Rylla could see the smaller gunboats ganging up on individual Grefftscharri ships and firing on them until they sank. The Grefftscharri ships were primarily designed to ram their opponents, or, if that failed, to board them with grapples and boarding ramps. In several cases, the crews of the larger Grefftscharri ships attempted to board the gunboats, but the Hostigi sailors were all swimmers and taught to sink them if boarded and swim to the next closest boat. Most of the gun boats stayed out of boarding range, but the battle was fierce and ships and boats were so crowded together that it was a miracle, from where she watched, they all didn’t crunch together in a giant logjam.

  Aspasthar, who was acting as a messenger, jumped up through the main stairway portal. He stumbled his way over to Rylla and bent over to catch his breath.

  “What is it, Aspasthar?” Seeing him reminded Rylla of Aspasthar’s father, Harmakros; they both had the same sparkling-brown eyes. For a moment, she felt a stab of grief for lost friends. I don t have time for grieving, she thought, not now.

  With his arms akimbo, Aspasthar looked up and spurted out, “Count Vinaldos reports that the Grefftscharrer Army has taken Ragyath Town and sacked it!” He paused to catch his wind.

  Vinaldos’ last report had arrived two days before. At that time, the Grefftscharr Army, which had been transported by Grefftscharri Naval troop ships from Greffa, had off-loaded at Kyios Port, a small Ragyathi fishing village and port. From there, they made their way south to Ragyath Town. It hadn’t taken long for them to sack it, either. No surprise there, as the Ragyathi Army was about two thousand men strong and Ragyath Town’s walls little more than wooden palisades.

  Rylla nodded, trying to tamp down her growing anger. She’d tried several times to work out a treaty with their ambassador and had been rebuffed every time. Ragyath had long fought Thagnor’s local dominance and, even in the midst of the current political upheaval, had refused to change their course. With Ragyath as an ally, Kalvan would have established a series of forts and watchtowers all along the Ragyath Straits, which could have destroyed the Grefftscharr Navy long before they reached Thagnor Harbor. The Ragyathi had rebuffed the very idea and now they were paying for their reluctance “big time.”

  When Theovacar and the Styphoni had been driven off, they would reconquer Ragyath and restore the Ragyathi crown with a prince they could trust, maybe Sarrask in repayment for his loyalty. She hoped so.

  Aspasthar continued, “After sacking Ragyath Town, their Army is preparing to march on Thagnor. Count Vinaldos says he expects them to arrive at the West Gate sometime tomorrow.”

  “How many soldiers did Theovacar bring?”

  “The Count estimates their number at twelve to fourteen thousand men, six thousand cavalry and seven or eight thousand infantry. He says that it appears from the banners that Theovacar brought most of his Royal Army with him and there are Princely banners of three other Princes and a score of underlords.”

  “Thank you for your report, Aspasthar,” Rylla said. The numbers were about what Kalvan had estimated, although a little higher. “Did you see the banners of his Companions?”

  “Yes, Queen Rylla. They displayed the red Greffan dragon on a white field.”

  She turned to Sarrask. “Prince, I want you to lead the attack against Theovacar and his army.”

  Sarrask perked up. If he’d have been a dog, his ears would have pointed towards the sky. “Yes, Your Majesty. I thank you for such an honor.”

  “Aspasthar, has there been any movement by the Grand Host that would indicate they are sending troops to support the Grefftscharri attack?”

  “No, Your Majesty. Count Vinaldos has scouts watching both armies. If there had been any recent movement, he would have told me before dispatching me to Your Majesty.”

  “Good. Sarrask, I want you to take the King’s Heavy Horse, the Thagnor Housecarls and most of the heavy cavalry Kalvan left behind. Around eight thousand horse. Plus, take the Royal Infantry, another six thousand men, and the Thagnori foot. That should give you some sixteen to seventeen thousand men. We outgun the Grefftscharri, we out-horse them and we outnumber them! Kill as many as you can before reinforcements arrive from the Grand Host.”

  Aspasthar hung back as though he wanted to help. The boy was already as tall as Rylla and when fully grown he probably would have Harmakros’ large stature and height. Maybe it was time to give him a chance to earn his spurs. “Commandant Aspasthar, I give you leave to recruit some four to five hundred of your oldest and fiercest cadets. I want you to hold back from the main charge and wait until the Grefftscharrer lines break; then you and your command will hunt down all of the deserters and stragglers.”

  Aspasthar gave a bloodthirsty grin. “Thank you, Your Majesty! We will send them all to Wind!” He spun around and dropped down the stairway.

  She thought it was interesting how he was beginning to pick up some of the Urgothi speech patterns and words. With the capture of Thagnor and all the new orphans from the war in Hostigos, there were now twenty-four military academies and new recruits pouring in every day. Someday, if her husband was right, they would be the core of the army.

  Down in the harbor the Hostigi boats had begun to pull back and about a dozen ragged schooners were heading into the fray. The fire ships! Suddenly one of them burst into flames, then another and another. Even from the tower top she could see the Grefftscharrer ships flounder and spin around in terror. The Hostigi ships-of-the-line pulled back, half continuing their firing, the other half going to encircle the now terrorized Grefftscharr Navy. Kalvan had said repeatedly that fire was the greatest fear of men stationed on a wooden ship. Within moments, a score of enemy ships were on fire, with flames running up the masts into the sails.

  She could see the pandemonium the fire ships caused from the Tower.

  A cold chill ran up and down her spine. The tower guns were now firing as soon as they were reloaded. Now they were shooting any enemy ships trying to get away from the main battle.

  One of the Hostigi ships was rammed by a burning Greffan galley and it too caught on fire. Suddenly the powder magazine went up and the two ships disappeared in a cloud of gray and black smoke. When the boom reached the tower, it almost knocked her off her feet!

  Rylla couldn’t even imagine what it must have sounded like down in the harbor.

  “The Grefftscharri are in full retreat!” shouted Admiral Herad.

  She knew that Herad had been a lifelong naval officer for the small Ulthori Navy; all his life Grefftscharr had been the naval power to be reckoned with. Now it was getting the stuffing blown out of it along with all former preconceptions about the naval world.

  The Grefftscharri ships that were still afloat were now out of normal cannon range and probably thought they were home free. Unfortunately, for most of them their only home was
going to be the bottom of Thagnor Harbor. About half their Navy was on fire, sunk, captured, tangled up and about to go up in flames. Eighty to ninety ships were trying to make their way out, but she doubted less than half would make it. Theovacar would long remember this day!

  The rifled cannon were beginning to make their mark on the fleeing Greffan ships. All four rifled cannons were now firing in unison and always at one target. It usually only took two salvos to take out a ship. Had they had a dozen such guns, not a single ship would have escaped their bombardment.

  II

  Kalvan was in his temporary quarters at a former banking house, going over the map of mopping-up operations in Greffa City, when he was approached by Vanar Halgoth. “Your Majesty, I have a delegation of Greffan nobles. They have asked to speak to you in person.”

  “Let them in, Vanar.” So far things had gone surprisingly well during the sacking of the City. The soldiers had, for the most part, acted in a disciplined manner, limiting their rapine and pillage to the outskirts of Greffa in the low-rent district. The City itself was almost intact except for the Companions’ barracks where the Guard had fought to the last man. He’d had to set the barracks on fire to take care of the last holdouts; no sense in wasting the lives of valuable men to kill fanatics who would not surrender.

  Halgoth nodded and Kalvan noticed his two Tymannian Guardsmen perked up instantly.

  He checked the priming on the pistol he kept close at hand on his desk. After two days of occupying Greffa, there hadn’t been any assassination attempts, but there’d been others in Hostigos Town and Thagnor City. In fact, many of the Greffans had acted as if the Hostigi were liberators rather than conquerors, which didn’t say much for Theovacar’s rule.

  The delegation of six was led by a tall man with a lantern jaw and sad eyes, wearing a somber burgundy doublet and matching breeches. It was obvious from their bearing and the richness of their apparel that they were members of the Greffan nobility.

  The tall man opened with, “Your Majesty, my name is Duke Ruffulo.” He made a sweeping bow.

  Kalvan nodded in return. He felt grubby in comparison with his un-trimmed beard, battle-scarred back-and-breast and stained breeches. “What can We do for you?”

  “Your Majesty, I have been delegated by the Greffan Assembly of Lords to meet with Your Majesty to offer you the Throne of Greffa.”

  Kalvan picked up his pipe and started to load the barrel, in an attempt to keep from showing his surprise. Why would they offer me the Iron Throne? Do they hate Theovacar that much, or are they afraid that he will blame them for the loss of his capital? Since they’re going to die anyway, maybe they’d rather be called traitors than die as bunglers.

  “Why, may We ask, do you offer me a City We already have in Our possession?”

  Ruffulo straightened his back. “Great King Kalvan, we ask you to rule our City because we have heard of your fairness and good rule. Theovacar is a ruthless tyrant and a murderer. He rules over all of us as if we are his personal chattel. He uses his Companions to enforce his will. If we complain or resist, he puts us and our families in the Great Dungeon, from which no one ever returns.

  “Up until now, no outsider has been strong enough to actually take the City. Instead of seeing this as a tragedy, we have decided it may be our best and only opportunity to free ourselves from Theovacar’s yoke.”

  Kalvan nodded thoughtfully. This is no time for dissembling, perhaps something lasting will come out of this. “In actuality, I was planning to loot your fair City; then blow the walls down and destroy the entire City as a warning to your King. My engineers are laying out the charges as we speak.”

  “Your Majesty, we were afraid of that. I know that you will not kill the innocent Citizens of Greffa; however, Theovacar will blame us for the sacking of Greffa, and many of us will lose our heads. All, this, because he stripped the City of its defenses to attack you without provocation in Thagnor. The proof of our treason will be the fact that we did not die in defense of our City, despite the fact that we were outnumbered and outfought. I do not speak just for myself, but for all the people of Greffa, as well as my friends and family, who do not want to go into exile to survive our King’s return.”

  Kalvan lit his pipe and took a deep draw of tobacco into his lungs. After expelling a small cloud of smoke, he said, “You will have to excuse me. This is an unexpected turn of events, although I do see that it might work out for Us as well as your people. However, if We add Greffa to my realm of Nos-Hostigos, We will be purchasing the undying enmity of King Theovacar. Is that not true?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty; however, by sacking, looting and destroying his capital, you have already purchased it--regardless of whether or not you take Greffa as a vassal. Theovacar is a vengeful man and will not rest until either he or you no longer draw a breath.”

  “That is a good point, Duke Ruffulo,” Kalvan said. “Soon I will have all of Grefftscharr up in arms against Nos-Hostigos; it won’t hurt to close the back door by ruling Greffa. However, this will mean changes in both the City’s government and laws.”

  “We have studied your laws and heard about your rule in Hos-Hostigos, as well as your recent investment of Thagnor. We believe our best interests are in serving Your Majesty as loyal subjects of Nos-Hostigos and will resist with our lives any attempt by our former tyrant to re-take the City.”

  “Thank you, Duke Ruffulo. You have given me much to ponder. I will give you my decision within a quarter moon.”

  III

  King Lysandros was glad to be back on horseback again, even if it was just to bring reinforcements to King Theovacar, whom he found offensive. Still, it got him away from the siege works. The bulwarks of Thagnor City had proved even more forbidding than those of Rathon City; Kalvan had once again thrown up massive earthworks in front of his stone walls which devoured shot like soft butter. The city walls of Harphax City were like fences in comparison.

  Once his Princes learned of these new star forts and earthworks, he wouldn’t have a moment’s peace. Not only had Kalvan disseminated the Fireseed Mystery to one and all, but he was now showing everyone how to build impregnable fortresses! If any of his Princes began to build one of these fortresses, he’d have to tear it down immediately. He’d already destroyed what was left of Tarr-Locra after the Hostigi abandoned it. He could easily imagine Phidestros ringing Greater Beshta with such forts. This was one problem he was going to take in hand before he no longer had a Kingdom.

  Kalvan had also cleared all trees and brush within ten to twelve marches of his walls, making it impossible to mask the Host’s camps and troop movements. The only thing it did provide was relief from Kalvan’s skirmishers who had preceded the Grand Host all the way from Nythros City, sniping at officers and men alike. Many of them were armed with rifles that were accurate up to a march away! They had been Styphon’s Own Lot to capture, and had forced him to order all his officers to wear regular dress and armor. Even he was wearing a cavalry trooper’s back-and-breast, breeches and plain morion helmet with a golden circlet.

  The closer they had come to Thagnor City the more audacious Kalvan’s irregulars had become. It was so bad that no foraging party with less than two companies was allowed to leave the main body. They’d lost so many scouts to enemy fire that he was beginning to suspect that most of them deserted as soon as they left the burn zone that Kalvan had created around Thagnor and reached the woods. Either that or the Hostigi were killing them by the droves. Or both.

  It was beginning to look doubtful that they would ever take Thagnor City and that the siege was a disaster in the making. It had been a quarter moon since the last supply train had arrived; half the guards, drovers and muleskinners were dead and several hundred wagons of supplies had been lost. The drovers refused to leave camp and return to Hos-Ktemnos--even at the threat of death. Even the camp followers were frightened. At least, it had ended the desertions of the regulars.

  A shot rang out and he looked around cautiously.

 
He saw one of his scouts up ahead galloping toward the van. He was waving his musket and must have been responsible for the shot. Captain-General Demnos rode up to meet him, and then escorted the scout to Lysandros’ side.

  The scout’s horse was lathered and blowing like a bellows. The man wasn’t in much better shape. As soon as he caught his breath, he said, “Your Majesty, I just returned from the West Gate. The Army of Hostigos has attacked King Theovacar and they have sent the Grefftscharri into full retreat!”

  “How many Hostigi did you see?”

  “Sire, I was several marches away so I can’t give good numbers. However, they outnumbered the Grefftscharri and were riding through them like willows. These Grefftscharri soldiers aren’t even good cannon fodder!”

  “As I feared. Demnos, sound the horns. We need to relieve our allies before they’re completely routed.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Demnos said as he rode off at a gallop.

  FORTY-TWO

  From his perch on the top platform of the watchtower to the right of the gatehouse, Tortha Karf watched the Hostigi Army pour out of the West Gate toward the quickly approaching Grefftscharr Army. He had asked the closest Kalvan Study Team, which was now based in Thagnor City, to run a sky-eye up over the city to record the battle. Prince Sarrask was rash and impatient and Tortha hoped that he didn’t betray Rylla’s trust. If Sarrask lost control of himself, or his men, the Royal Army could be caught between the advancing Grefftscharr Army and Great King Lysandros’ twenty to twenty-five thousand reinforcements.

  From his position, Tortha could now make out the Grefftscharr Army’s formation. Behind a thin screen of light horse skirmishers, the Army had a thick ribbon of crossbowmen in front of four squares of spearmen, with mounted knights and crossbowman at both flanks. This was the traditional formation of a Middle Kingdoms army which had only a few handguns. He suspected that the Grefftscharri calivermen and arquebusiers would be near the middle of the ribbon.