The Fireseed Wars
Page 61
“I’m asking for your help, Verkan, as your wife, not Chief Tharn.”
“And I’m telling you I resigned once and I will not work for that outfit again, at least, not during this incarnation.”
Dalla sputtered angrily. “If I walk out that door, I’m not coming back!”
“You know me, Dalla. I don’t give in to blackmail--emotional or otherwise.”
She spun around and slapped him on the cheek, hard enough that it knocked him off balance. “What the Styphon!”
Before he finished speaking, she’d torn out of the room. “Dalla, come back here!”
“Damn her,” he cursed, following that with a few more choice words in Second Level Khiftan. If he followed her to First Level, he’d never have a moment’s peace. No, this time, he was going to wait her out. And, if she didn’t come back, the Styphon with her!
III
Grand Master Soton gave the order to halt the column and turned to Knight-Lieutenant Sarmoth.
Sarmoth had been Soton’s aide-de-camp for almost three winters; by now, he could almost read the Grand Master’s thoughts.
“Lieutenant Sarmoth, I want you to take two Blades of Knights and find this village of Salis, locate the Duchess and her son and bring them to me.”
“Yes, sir. Where will I meet up with you?”
“I do not want the Agrysi to know that the heir has been the object of our expedition so I’m going to make an attack on Glarth Town. According to our intelligencers, now that the Grand Host has abandoned the Siege of Thagnor, the Glarthi merchants have started supplying Kalvan and his people with victuals and other supplies. This attack will show how we deal with those who help our enemies. So join us at Glarth Town. I intend to make a statement that the Agrysi will never forget!”
“Yes, sir. But weren’t their merchants helping us, too?”
“As part of your training, I will explain my reasoning. Now that Ulthor Port is in ruins, Glarth Town is the only large Great Kingdom’s port remaining in the Sea of Aesklos. Since the Grand Host has been recalled to Tarr-Ceros, we no longer have a need for re-supply.”
“Yes, Grand Master.”
“However, Kalvan does. He needs all the victuals and armaments he can import. He has a lot of gold and is not miserly in its use. The amount of gold that he removed from Greffa City is almost equal to that of the Great Treasury of Balph.”
Sarmoth’s jaw dropped.
“Most of the towns along the southern border of the Sea of Aesklos have been destroyed by the war. Only Glarth remains a major shipping center. We intend to deprive Kalvan of this asset. You know the Agrysi, don’t you? It is said they would trade with Ormaz himself for a bent phenig.”
He nodded, thinking to himself that in that sense the Agrysi were much like merchants everywhere.
“Lieutenant, Styphon’s House allowed the Agrysi at Glarth Town their freedom as long as they were of value to the Temple. This is no longer true. Do you see this?”
“Yes, sir. However, we may need their ships and docks when we return to take Thagnor City.”
Soton patted him on the shoulder. “You are starting to think strategically. However, our plan is much larger than that. After Glarth Town has been punished and the countryside subdued, we plan to erect a new city in its place. We will leave the wharves and warehouses, but the town itself is expendable. In this new city, we will build our own fleet and destroy the Usurper’s navy and harass his shipping. The Inner Circle may not have realized it yet, but the time is coming when we may need to expand into the Middle Kingdoms. Glarth Town will be our stepping-off point.”
The operation to snatch the heir went off flawlessly, Sarmoth noted. It was almost too easy. The villagers were cooperative, but then what else could they do when faced with an armed party that outnumbered the entire village? They’d found former Duke Thalros’ manor house almost undefended. The widow had died recently and the estate was being managed by one of the former ladies-in-waiting, a very capable looking woman who’d been the only one to put up any sort of fight after their arrival. He’d had to have her restrained when they took possession of the lad, Dementros. The boy had refused to leave his friends and Sarmoth had decided it was easier to bring them and Lady Tymolara along, ensuring Dementros’ cooperation, rather than argue over it.
The boy hadn’t appeared to be awed by the sight of two hundred Knights, Brethren and Oath Brothers. Sarmoth liked him for that show of spunk. He didn’t envy Archpriest Grythos the job of making the boy his mouthpiece.
He would have to warn the boy, that if he showed too much defiance to the Archpriest, he might find himself a long-term denizen of Tarr-Agrys’ dungeon, only to be brought out to show, like a trained panther, when ambassadors or other dignitaries arrived at the Palace.
The next morning they left Salis to rejoin the Grand Master. By evening Sarmoth could see a great blossom of smoke rising from where he estimated Glarth Town resided. Already parties of fleeing refugees were passing them on the Glarth Road. Some of them ran right into the bushes and trees when they saw their white flag with Styphon’s black Sun Wheel.
It took another day before they reached the town. The road was clogged with fleeing townsfolk, some of them smoke-blackened or bleeding, and escaping animals. They ran one flock of turkeys into the ground, setting up a snowstorm of feathers. Soon it was hard to hear the cries of the wounded for the roaring of the fires. The sky overhead was gray and broiling black, while the air was filled with ash, making it difficult to breathe.
Sarmoth suspected the Upper Realm of Regwarn looked much like this.
It took them another candle to locate the Grand Master, who was still seated on his horse giving orders. The entire town was enflamed or in smoldering ruins.
Soton looked at him and asked, “Is it done?”
“Yes, sir. The boy and his party have been secured.”
“Party?”
“Yes, sir. Young Dementros demanded we bring his woman servant and several boys along. I thought it best to give him his lead, at least, for now.”
Soton nodded. “You did well. You succeeded where Archpriest Grythos, with more experience, failed.”
“I see you have been busy, Grand Master.” Sarmoth made a half-circle with his arm over the burning city.
“I want all to know the price for cooperating with the Usurper Kalvan and his subjects. I’ve had my men go through and pick out the best of the women and young men for the slave markets in Balph. We’ll probably bring ten thousand of them back with us, more than enough to pay for this expedition.”
“How long will we stay, sir?”
“We will leave when the last building crumbles and the last man alive is in chains.”
IV
Kalvan watched as the walls of Thagnor rose out of the early morning mist like distant earthen hills. No wonder the Grand Host had found it impossible to besiege this great city. He was already starting to fall in love with the land and its hardy people. The question was: Would Rylla ever be able to switch her allegiance? To give her credit, she’d been raised in Hostigos and only left its borders once on a doomed expedition with her father to beseech aid from Great King Kaiphranos for the war against Styphon’s House.
While in the US Army Kalvan had been stationed in Korea and Germany; stateside he’d visited California and Oregon before settling back in Pennsylvania. With the Pennsylvania State Police, he’d stayed in several barracks throughout central Pennsylvania. He was used to hanging his hat anywhere and calling it home. Certainly, the retreat from Hos-Hostigos had been hardest on Rylla, especially having to leave her father behind to certain death at the hand of Styphon’s House.
A large party of notables streamed out of the West Gate and then a dozen guns or more went off at once, shaking the ground and pounding his ears. The guns were followed by loud cheering from inside the city that reminded him of football games at Palmer Stadium that he’d attended while a student at Princeton.
It was a victory procession by the time th
ey pressed their way through the West Gates of Thagnor City. It appeared that most of the city was lined along the narrow streets and avenues, cheering their Great King and his triumphant Army of Greffa. Kalvan wasn’t sure if his subjects were really cheering for him or for the fact that the Grand Host was gone and they could actually go beyond the City Gates once again.
He led the Army right up to the doors of the palace and then dismounted from his horse. The crowd pressed around him, or as close as they could, since he was completely surrounded by his Tymannian Guard. At the palace, Prince Sarrask was the first to greet him with a bear hug that made him happy he hadn’t shucked his breastplate. Kalvan closed the big brass door with a resounding thud and turned to find Rylla waiting to greet him.
“My husband!” Rylla cried. She looked tired, but her luminous blue eyes were lit from inside like lanterns. Her blonde hair fell in waves and she was dressed in a rose-colored gown.
Kalvan took her in his arms. She was trembling and he held her tenderly. “How are you? Should you be out of bed?”
“I’m still tired, my love. Having babies is even harder work than fighting battles! But I’m strong enough to greet the man who vanquished King Theovacar.”
“I had a lot of help. Actually, it was Prince Sarrask who defeated Theovacar, I just stole his seat.”
“Yes, my love. Nor will he forgive you for that, either. Still, Theovacar would still have his capital had he not let his greed cloud his mind and forge an alliance with the Devil God Styphon’s minions. Did you and Verkan purge Greffa of his agents?”
One thing about Rylla, she truly saw the world in two colors--black and white. When dealing with a bloodthirsty theocracy like Styphon’s House, it wasn’t a bad thing. Old Machiavelli certainly would have approved of her theories on rulership and statecraft. “Yes, we beheaded the worst of the lot and put the rest on work gangs. Verkan’s no sob-sister when it comes to dealing with potential enemies. Plus, he already had a working knowledge of most of them from his dealings in Greffa.”
“I’m not worried about Verkan. Dalla will help him to steer the correct course through Greffan politics. Was she there?”
“No, Dalla’s still in Wulfula with some of her family. Verkan’s going to send for her when the city’s settled down more.”
“Maybe they can visit soon?”
Kalvan shook his head. “It’s going to take even Verkan a winter or two to shake down all the bad apples from that crowd in Greffa. Plus, he has to build-up his army so that he can keep Theovacar from poaching in his territories. The King’s not going to take the loss of his capital lightly.”
“True. Come, Kalvan, let me introduce you to your son.”
“Aha! That’s what I’ve been waiting for.” He followed her up the flights of stairs until they reached the third floor chambers.
Rylla carefully opened the Nursery door and peeked in. “It’s fine, he’s awake.”
He followed her in and peered into a large hand-carved cradle with white blankets. Inside all he could see was a tiny pink face.
“Prince Ptosphes, meet your father, Great King Kalvan.”
“Hello son.” Kalvan carefully picked up the little bundle and cradled him in his arms. He felt his heart swell with love. This is my son, the heir someday to all that is ours. “Son, you’ve got a lot to live up to with the name Ptosphes. I’m not sure we did you any favor giving you this name, but I do know this: you grandfather would have been proud of you. It’s a big name to grow into, but your mother and I will give you all the help we can.”
Rylla kissed his cheek, and then he put the baby back into the cradle.
Little Ptosphes was cooing and making faces. He took Rylla in his arms and then they turned and made their way out of the Nursery toward their bedchambers. Life was good, at least for today.
THE END
Table of Contents
MAPS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
PROLOGUE
** SUMMER **
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
** FALL **
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
** WINTER **
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
** SPRING **
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE
FORTY-SIX
FORTY-SEVEN
FORTY-EIGHT
FORTY-NINE
FIFTY
** SUMMER **
FIFTY-ONE
FIFTY-TWO
FIFTY-THREE
FIFTY-FOUR