The Fireseed Wars

FORTY-FOUR

Verkan watched as Kalvan sat himself on the Iron Throne, the oldest and most revered seat here-and-now. The King's Audience Hall was orders of magnitude more glorious than those of Hostigos or even Tarr-Thagnor. The wealth of millennia was represented in the jewel-encrusted throne as well as the rich hangings, murals and tapestries. The Imperial Court of Byzantium may have rivaled this for sheer opulence, but not for gold appointments. As for the Treasury: from Verkan's initial survey, he estimated some fifteen million ounces of gold! Enough to pay for the entire course of the Fireseed War.

"How does it feel, Your Majesty?" Verkan asked.

"A good question. Why don't you sit on it and see for yourself?" he asked, rising to his feet.

Verkan shrugged and sat on the Iron Throne. "It's not very comfortable, Sire, but I guess no one had comfort in mind when it was cast fifteen hundred years ago."

"How would you like to sit there on a regular basis?" Kalvan asked.

For the first time in years, Verkan was nonplussed. He sputtered for a moment, then asked, "What do you mean?"

"We want you to be the new King of Greffa."

Verkan could only imagine the uproar on Home Time Line when it was announced that he'd been made King of Greffa. Talk about giving your opponents political hay! But, on the other hand, they'd already forced him to forsake his position as Paratime Police Chief. It was tempting, but he didn't need the headache. The whole point of an outtime hobby was getting away from responsibility and duty. "What? First of all, I'm not of noble blood."

Kalvan laughed. "Neither am I. I need someone I know and trust. Someone who will do a good job as king and who has roots here in Greffa. And you're the only one who fills that bill."

Verkan shrugged. How can I get out of this? I'm honored, but I don't want the job. "Your Majesty, I'm not qualified. I can run a business or command an army, but I'm no politician. After a few moons, every page in the Royal Palace will have figured out how to twist me to his purpose!"

Kalvan laughed. "I've seen you in action with the Mobile Force. I've heard you talk a band of drunken Sastragathi irregulars into turning over their weapons. This kingship business will be easy for you to master once you've gotten over the shock."

"I am flattered beyond words, Your Majesty. However, if you grant me the Iron Throne, you will have made a lifetime enemy out of King Theovacar."

"I appear to have done that already by merely surviving our ouster from Hostigos. After the sack of Greffa, Theovacar will never rest until one of us is dead. I'd prefer that it be Theovacar."

"Still, Your Majesty, Greffa is not only the capital, but it's the heart of Grefftscharr. Furthermore, Theovacar has the other four Princedoms of Grefftscharr from which to raise new armies and funds. He will never rest as long as you hold one rod of Greffan territory."

"Verkan, he will never relent, even if I were to return his City. I have humiliated Theovacar and taken his capital city. His own subjects begged us to stay. If I have to destroy the entire Kingdom of Grefftscharr to keep Nos-Hostigos safe-I'll do it! And, honestly, the job will be that much-easier owning the gem of Greffa."

"You are right about that! I can see Theovacar's face when the news of its capture reaches him in Thagnor." I don't think I can wiggle my way out of this.

"Theovacar was a fool," Kalvan said, punctuating his words with puffs of smoke from his pipe. "His Assembly of Lords and Council of Merchants are so disgruntled by his rule that they have asked me to add Greffa to the Great Kingdom of Nos-Hostigos. I queried them about having you enthroned as King of Greffa; they appeared relieved that I'd picked a native Greffan. I suspect they were afraid I'd pick an outsider from Hostigos, or Thagnor. But, frankly, with Chartiphon ruling Rathon, Prince Phrames establishing control of Gytha and Captain-General Hestophes off in Hos-Agrys, I don't really have anyone else whom I could elevate to king. And, certainly, no one with your connections and familiarity with Greffa City."

"I'm honored beyond words, Your Majesty!"

"Good, then the job is yours."

"What is my first order of business?"

"We will have your enthronement in three days. Before I return to Thagnor, I will leave you three thousand Hostigi veterans to act as the nucleus for your new Army and two million ounces of gold to help pay for it. You will also need to fortify the Greffan walls with earthworks and gun emplacements. I will also leave you one flying battery and Galzar's Mace. I heartily suggest that you reopen the Verkan Fireseed Works and build a Royal Foundry."

"Of course, Your Majesty. Greffa will be the focus of Theovacar's enmity and he will do everything in his power to recapture his capital."

"He'll have to. Theovacar's loss of Greffa threatens his hold on the rest of Grefftscharr. It will take time, however, before he will be able to strike back. He does not have many fireseed works outside of Greffa; the ones he does have are small operations or newly established. It will take at least a winter or two before they start producing fireseed in any great quantities. Plus, he will have to train an army from scratch, find a way to import or manufacture handguns and build foundries to make his own artillery. All this with a worldwide shortage of alchemists and gunsmiths. The road to Greffa is long and treacherous even for a ruler as powerful as Theovacar.

"And, remember, if he strikes you from the west, I can hit him in Helmout and Rhinnar, or even Ult-Greffa. If Rylla is successful in destroying the Northern Fleet, Theovacar will be too busy rebuilding his Navy to worry about re-taking Greffa for several winters."