The Fireseed Wars

by John F. Carr

  “It will be half a moon before Phidestros returns. I don’t think we can wait that long. When did the Captain receive this letter?”

  “Four nights ago. He said that it was arranged that the messenger would be delayed by tainted food. We probably have two, possibly three nights, before he arrives in Soton’s camp.”

  Arminta tapped her fingers on the chair rests. “Kyblannos, here’s what we’re going to do. Since the League’s defeat, we can safely assume that most of the Princes in Hos-Agrys are fearful that Soton will send his army west to punish them for their attack. Most will be holed up in their tarrs. This means that a small band of Styphon’s House agents will be able to freely travel across the land, although they may have problems with bandits and lawless deserters from the League’s army. Still, even if we could get this knowledge to the League in time, there is no certainty that the Princes of Hos-Agrys could guarantee the safety of these heirs. Some of them might even use the heirs as bargaining sticks with Styphon’s House.

  “That means it is up to us to try to find Thalros’ son and secretly bring him safely to Greater Beshta where he can be under our protection. Our only vassal in Hos-Agrys is Grand-Captain Ranthos. We still haven’t received word from him and do not know whether or not he survived the battle with Soton. Therefore, Kyblannos, I want you to take an armed party of what you deem of sufficient strength to find the League’s Army, or what’s left of it, and contact Grand-Captain Ranthos, should he still be alive.”

  “That tough old buzzard will still be here long after I go to Galzar’s Hall,” Kyblannos said. “If he’s in Hos-Agrys, I’ll find him. I’ve spent six campaign seasons in Hos-Agrys and know most of the back roads and deer trails. What orders am I to give him?”

  “They’re too dangerous to put in runes. Tell him that he’s to enlist the help of anyone in Hos-Agrys he trusts to help him find Thalros’ son. Once the boy has been found, he is to ensure that he is not recaptured by the Styphoni. If it is possible, he is to bring him here to us even if he has to desert his post with the League. That being impossible, he is to see that the boy is placed with a Prince or ally who can guarantee his protection. If Ranthos has come to harm, you will try to find the boy yourself.”

  Kyblannos nodded up and down. “Ranthos will know what to do. On more than one occasion the Captain took him into his confidence and he gave good advice. If anyone can find the boy, Ranthos is the man. Failing that, I’ll find him myself!”

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Kalvan and Verkan stood watching as the troops passed by the temporary reviewing stand. Over half of the missile infantry were carrying arquebuses and muskets, while the other half carried crossbows which were being phased out as quickly as the new Greffan Gunmakers Guild could turn out replacements. The traditional spearmen had been upgraded to pikemen. The new Greffan Army marched light on their feet and looked far better than the ragged outfit that the Hostigi petty-captains had begun to whip into shape two moons ago.

  With a good signing bonus, they’d been able to add a lot of Theovacar’s former veterans to the muster lists as well as a lot of eager recruits. Verkan had taken ownership of the King’s fireseed mills and started work on several new ones. He was hoping to corner the fireseed market from Greffa down to Xiphlon. If anyone could do it, Verkan would. He’d also put his prisoners, those soldiers who wouldn’t recant their loyalty to Theovacar, to work building earthworks on the outer walls.

  The City had responded to its new leadership. Shops and businesses were busy and the streets were swarming with people, from Greffans to Urgothi nomads. Verkan had even started his own constabulary while outlawing private armies. Some of his touchier nobles had been offended, but the majority of his subjects felt safe--many for the first time. The peasants were back in their fields and there promised to be a bumper harvest in the fall.

  Kalvan had sent out his own buffalo and cattle hunting parties, some foraging as far as the mid-western plains, Iowa and Nebraska. He would have a lot of buffalo and beef jerky to take with him when he returned to Thagnor.

  The big surprise had been the visit by his old friend Var Wannax Ranjar Sargos.

  “Your Majesty,” the huge warrior king said. “I never expected to find you seated in Greffa! After our return from the Mexicotal Wars, some peddlers and traders told yarns of how the Styphoni dogs drove you out of Hos-Hostigos, saying you had settled in Thagnor. I didn’t believe them and had some of them whipped through the streets!”

  “That much is true.” Kalvan gave him the condensed version of all that had happened since the Battle of Ardros Field and the Trail of Blood.

  When Kalvan told him how they had outmaneuvered the King of Greffa and taken his home seat, Sargos’ face broke into a wide smile, showing off his jack-o-lantern teeth. “I’ve always hated that son-of-a-diseased sheep of unknown parentage. Is there anything me or my people can do to help you in this war against the manure eaters of the false god Styphon?”

  “Right now Thagnor City is being besieged by the Grand Host of Styphon. If your people could be persuaded to raid across the Great Mother River and hit the border tarrs of the Zarthani Knights, that would help a great deal. It might even force Soton to withdraw his Knights from Hos-grys.

  Sargos nodded. “Many of our young men did not get enough fighting in the harsh lands and would love to raid the rich fields and villages of the Sastragath. But what about the Knights and their allies?”

  Kalvan smiled. “This is where it gets good. Styphon’s House is now fighting two wars, one against me and one against Great King Demistophon in Hos-Agrys. The Grand Master has been forced to bleed his border tarrs of Knights and their retainers to field both armies. True, there will be some soldiers left to mind the tarrs, but nothing like the numbers in the past. There probably aren’t enough soldiers remaining in all of the Order’s tarrs to field an army twenty thousand strong.”

  Sargos whistled.

  “Most of the Sacred Squares of Hos-Ktemnos are off fighting as well; those left behind are under strength. Only the border Squares are at full strength. You won’t have to worry about an attack from the east. As long as you don’t cross the border, the Sastragath is yours.”

  Sargos rushed over to Kalvan and threw his arms around him, almost crushing him in the process. He doesn’t have a clue as to how strong he is, does he?

  “You have given me another priceless gift. What can I give you in return? Ten thousand warriors, Mexicotal gold, wagons of beer, a hundred young virgins--you name it, it’s yours!”

  “I want nothing in return. If your people can cause enough damage and pain to the Order of Zarthani Knights, that will be payment enough.”

  Sargos took his sausage-sized finger and poked it at Kalvan’s chest. “I owe you my crown. I was a child and you were my tutor. The debt I owe you, Your Majesty, can never be repaid in this lifetime!”

  The next moon quarter had been filled with drinking, boasting and the telling of stories, none more fantastic than Sargos’ expedition all the way to the heart of Mexicotal--to Tenochtitlan, built at the edge of Lake Texcoco. The Warlord’s clans had besieged the Aztec capital for three moon quarters before receiving a hundred wagons of gold in exchange for quitting the siege and retiring from the Mexicotal lands. This was acceptable since the war horde was running low on supplies and had never intended to stay in Mexico, only break the back of Mexicotal power and fill their many wagons with loot and slaves.

  “It was the flresticks that made all the difference. Their warriors are fierce, especially those of the Eagle and Jaguar Clans. But all the fervor in the world does not stop a lead slug. Once we had killed the best of their knights, the rest were easy pickings. It will be a long time before they besiege Xiphlon, or enter the Sea of Grass to find sacrifices for their devil gods. I could tell you stories of priests dressed in human skins, ripping out the hearts of young men and women, or of pyramids of skulls and maidens adorned only in colored feathers ... But enough of this talk, I grow weary of that accursed land.”


  “When you returned to Xiphlon with your booty, what was your reward from King Roldolf ?” Kalvan asked.

  Sargos gave a belly laugh that started in his toes and ended at the top of his head. “Ten wagons of gold!”

  In the end, Kalvan had given Sargos and the Tymannes a dozen guns, including several of the old Greffan bombards that had survived the siege. They would certainly give the Order of Zarthani Knights a headache the likes of which they had never encountered before. The big, fierce looking Warlord had danced around the chamber when Kalvan had announced the gift like a ten year old at Christmas over a new Schwinn bicycle.

  Kalvan’s eyes returned to the parade ground as the first squadron of heavy cavalry, who could have easily passed for Medieval knights with strange gorgets and odd banners, rode by. The ground rumbled under their destriers’ hooves.

  Verkan turned to Kalvan. “Not bad, aye?”

  “No, they actually look like a real army. Of course, nothing really counts until they’re blooded, but they are much improved.”

  “I’m not worried, since you’re leaving me three thousand veterans from the Royal Army to stiffen them. I’ve already got the Greffa Riflemakers Guild up and running. I hope to have my own small Mobile Force by fall-- a couple of squadrons, at least.”

  “Excellent. Be prepared for anything; Theovacar will not relax until Greffa City is back in his hands.” Kalvan wouldn’t be surprised if Theovacar was already moving the better part of his army across Lake Michigan by ship to Rygen Town (Grand Rapids). He sketched the possible invasion routes out on a parchment map for Verkan, marking out places like Rygen that should be well-defended.

  Verkan nodded. “I will put a fort at Rygen and one over there. However, I suspect I’m not the one who should be worrying. King Theovacar probably won’t go after me until you’ve been properly punished. And that, much to Theovacar’s dismay, is not going to be easy.”

  “I know, let him stew for a while. I need to get back to Thagnor City; Rylla will be giving birth any day now.”

  “Isn’t your return what the Grand Host is waiting for?”

  “Yes, I suppose. Either that or for Styphon to fly down from his Sky-Palace and break down the walls of Thagnor City!”

  II

  Hestophes was pacing back and forth along the parapets of Tarr-Eubros. Primate Xentos and Duke Mnestros, with his father’s backing, were doing the best they could to resuscitate the corpse of the League’s Army. After the League’s defeat by the Styphoni, which had reduced their number by a third including both casualties and prisoners, the Army had split up to make it more difficult for Soton’s troops to harry them. They had been given orders to meet later, but less than a third of the Army showed up at the prearranged spot.

  Some Princes had left the field entirely, many soldiers had deserted; the end result was that all that was left to face Soton on the field of battle, after he disposed of Agrys City, was a League Army of little more than six thousand men. Some of the survivors were still recovering from wounds taken in the battle for Agrys City, while the remainder were dispirited and ready to abandon their cause. Hestophes was beginning to believe he was wasting his time and longed to return to Thagnor City, which more and more resembled home. He had made one thing clear to both Mnestros and Xentos: he was either to lead the League Army from this point on, or he would retire with his command and return to Nos-Hostigos.

  Unlike Prince Vython, he would have never attacked the Host of Styphon’s Deliverance until he’d had visual confirmation that King Demistophon’s army was leaving Agrys City and advancing. Vython’s counterattack against Soton had given the rest of the Army time to retire. However, it had cost Vython his life and splintered his command. Hestophes had asked for command of the reserve for just this reason. His men had survived to fight another day, but bringing the League of Dralm army back to life was going to be almost impossible without divine help.

  He was pulled out of his reverie when one of his officers approached. “Captain-General, Captain Ranthos has requested your presence.”

  “Have him sent to my headquarters. I’ll meet with him shortly.”

  As he went down the keep stairwell, Hestophes pondered why Ranthos wanted to confer with him. Was it possible that Prince Phidestros was sending the League additional troops? As he’d discovered during this long war, anything was possible. The former mercenary captain-general probably didn’t see anything to his advantage in allowing Styphon’s House to gobble up entire kingdoms, and much to his potential disadvantage.

  Ranthos and another soldier he didn’t recognize were waiting impatiently inside his headquarters room with several League officers. The chamber walls were covered with maps and the tables were covered with parchments and scrolls.

  “Captain-General, I just received some urgent intelligence from Argros.”

  “What is it, Ranthos?” he asked.

  “Can we go someplace private?”

  “Of course,” Hestophes said, leading them to a small audience chamber at the back of the palace. He put a guard outside the thick wooden door and closed it. “Is that secure enough?”

  Ranthos nodded. “This gentleman is Duke Kyblannos, former Captain-General of the Grand Host’s Artillery.”

  Hestophes did a quick double-take. “Kyblannos, I’ve heard of you!” He had to mentally stop himself from drawing his sword.

  The Duke nodded respectfully, “Likewise, Captain-General Hestophes.”

  “What can I do for you?” Hestophes’ head was whirling, as he tried to figure out what one of Prince Phidestros’ right-hand men was doing in Eubros.

  Ranthos spoke first. “A Styphon’s House way station for Temple messengers is located in Greater Beshta. One of the Phidestros’ intelligencers has broken the code Styphon’s House uses for its secret dispatches and deciphers them for the Prince.”

  Hestophes was impressed, but he wondered why he was being told such confidential information. It must have something to do with Soton or the war against the League, he thought, otherwise the Prince would never reveal such a secret.

  “Has the Prince has uncovered another Styphoni plot?”

  “Yes,” Ranthos said, “according to this dispatch from Anaxthenes, Supreme Priest and Styphon’s Voice, the Styphoni are searching for heirs to the Throne of Light. Duke Kyblannos believes it would be to our mutual advantage to find them before Styphon’s House does.”

  Hestophes took his pipe out of his mouth and knocked the heel out against his palm. When he’d finished refilling and tamping it with fresh leaf, he lit a splinter with his tinderbox and fired it up. After expelling a cloud of smoke, he said, “This means that as far as Styphon’s House is concerned, King Demistophon is a dead man. From what I saw of the city walls, Agrys City won’t last more than a few moons. With Prince Vython killed in the attack, that means the Styphoni are looking for someone they can use as their tool.”

  Duke Kyblannos nodded. “The dispatch mentions that there were four cousins: Their intelligence states that one cousin is childless, while another has a girl child but has no known location and one is dead, without issue. Demistophon’s line is about to come to an end. The fourth, Duke Thalros, is also deceased, but he does have a widow and an heir, a young son, living in a small village in Glarth. I strongly suggest we send out a party to secure the boy and find a way to keep him safe from Styphon’s House. Princess Arminta believes we can use the lad as the focal point of resistance to Styphoni rule, which will surely follow once Agrys City falls and Soton turns his army loose on the rest of Hos-Agrys.”

  “That makes sense considering the turmoil here in Hos-Agrys. But, why are you telling me this instead of finding him yourself?”

  “Because we need your help,” Kyblannos said. “In Argros I thought we might be able to put together a command of our own to find the boy. Now that I’ve witnessed the chaos here firsthand, I don’t believe that’s possible without your help. The Princess told me to do whatever was necessary to see that Thalros’ son
does not fall into the hands of Styphon’s House. It is neither in my Prince’s nor Nos-Hostigos’ interest to see Styphon’s House rule another kingdom, seeing as they all but rule in name in Hos-Ktemnos and Hos-Bletha. Should Hos-Agrys fall to Styphon’s House, all the other Kingdoms will follow in two or three winters.”

  Hestophes took the pipe out of his mouth. “That’s a plausible reason. Did the dispatch provide the name of the village where Duke Thalros’ son is living?”

  Kyblannos nodded. “Yes, it is the village of Salis. It’s about ninety marches east of Port Glarth.”

  “Did you stop the original messenger from delivering his dispatch?”

  “No, Captain-General. We delayed him by a few days, but the message should have arrived at Soton’s camp by now.”

  “Soton will send out a number of small bands to find Demistophon’s heirs. We’ll have to put out patrols to harass them. We’ll also warn the Agrysi Princes, especially Clytos of Glarth, that hostile Styphoni troops are going to be traveling through their territory. It’ll be much more difficult for them to reach Salis than it will be for us.”

  “I’d like to volunteer myself and my men to rescue the lad,” Ranthos said.

  “You read my mind, Ranthos. But we need an Agrysi commander who knows the territory and is known by the other Agrysi nobles. How about Duke Mnestros?”

  “Isn’t he one of Kalvan’s allies?” Kyblannos asked.

  “Yes. He fought with the Hostigi at Ardros Field and led the false Argysi attack that delayed the Grand Host from leaving Hostigos Town. He’s the elder son of Prince Thykarses of Eubros.”

  Kyblannos nodded. “He’s been battle-tested. We can work with him.”

  “Good, because Mnestros will be in charge.”

  “That’s acceptable, Captain-General.”

  “Ranthos, take your two companies and Kyblannos’ men. We want to keep this operation secret between just the three of us and Mnestros. I can’t imagine running into a Styphoni party large enough to give you any trouble. They’re the ones who’ll have to travel cautiously and at night. That will give you an important edge.”