The Fireseed Wars

FIFTY-TWO

Kalvan was seated in King Verkan's private chambers where they were both enjoying a game of checkers, which he had brought with him from Thagnor and recently introduced to Verkan. The checker pieces were cast in gold and the board was made of rare black and white woods. Verkan was preternaturally good at the game, almost as if he'd played it before. He'd beaten Kalvan two out of the last three games.

It had been fun "baching" it for the past couple of months, but Kalvan was really beginning to miss his family. The siege of Thagnor was still static; about all the Styphoni were doing was twiddling their thumbs. While he could muster almost nine thousand troops to take back to Thagnor, that wasn't enough soldiers to give the Grand Host indigestion. He had no choice but to wait until the siege was lifted before he could return to Thagnor City. Worst case scenario, they would have to wait until fall when the Host left for winter quarters in Nythros.

However, Kalvan's time in Greffa provided him the opportunity to help Verkan set up the new fireseed mills as well as the Greffan Foundry and gun shops. As in Hostigos, the guilds fought them every step of the way, so Verkan had created his own Royal Guilds for gunsmiths and fireseed alchemists.

He hoped that Sargos' attacks across the Great Mother River would force the Inner Circle to recall the Grand Host and move up the Host's departure. According to the last courier, it had been a moon since Lysandros had departed with the Army of Harphax in a huff. Not a single Hostigi courier had made it through the Styphoni lines since then.

Maybe if the Hos-Ktemnos faction left, Kalvan would be able to meet the Host on almost equal terms. He'd enjoy that, oh yes indeedy!

There was a commotion outside the chamber door, and Kalvan heard a familiar voice. Sarrask's here? I wonder why?

Prince Sarrask was there resplendent in his finest silvered armor, the silver shining like the table settings at the Russian Tea Room, with a large leather tube in one hand. "Your Majesty, I come with wonderful news!"

"We heard about your victory over King Theovacar," Verkan replied. "Well done, Prince. Solan, bring us some refreshments, a cask of Ermut's Best if there's any left. Let us make a victory toast!"

Sarrask graciously bowed to King Verkan. "Thank you, Your Majesty. But that's old news. Although I must say, it felt good to beat the tripes out of Theovacar's Companions! These Greffans-yourself excepted King Verkan-have a lot to learn about Hostigi-style warfare. But, stab me, Great King Kalvan'll teach em!"

Kalvan looked down at the leather dispatch case with distaste. He could spend half the afternoon going over those documents before he got to the meat of them. "Sarrask, you know as much as anyone in Thagnor City about what's going on. What are these all about?"

The big man actually preened. Still, regardless of Sarrask's many vices, he'd kept the excess weight off and was in fighting trim.

"Can you summarize the important news?"

"Oh yes, Your Majesty," Sarrask replied, all but bursting out of his breastplate.

"First, and most importantly. Queen Rylla has given birth-"

"Dralm-damnit! I should have been there. Is she all right?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. And you are the father of a new son, I mean heir- Prince Ptosphes the Second. Queen Rylla invited me to the viewing, and he's a big baby with all his limbs and digits."

Kalvan's chest swelled until it felt as if it were about to explode. "Ahhh. This is good news indeed! Verkan, we shall have to announce it to the City. Let there be three days of celebration-"

"Your Majesty, you might want to hear the rest of the news I bring."

Kalvan nodded, trying to hide his impatience. Thank god, Rylla survived the birthing chamber-This may have to be the last one for a while. And it's a boy! Now, we have our heir. I can't risk anything happening to her. What would I do if she came down with childbed fever and I lost her?

"The Grand Host has broken apart! First, Great King Lysandros and the Harphaxi Army left. There was great rejoicing throughout the City. Then five days ago the remainder of the Host packed up all their weapons and foodstuffs and departed. From the direction they took, it appears they are returning to Tarr-Ceros, not Hos-Ktemnos.

"As soon as they left, the Great Queen ordered me to take my command to Greffa City and bring these dispatches to Your Majesty."

"You've done well, Prince." So, Sargos had been true to his word. Now the Knights were needed back along the border marches. Good riddance! Then another thought hit him. "Did Queen Rylla take it into consideration that the retreat might really be a feint and that the Grand Host might be lying in wait for the Army of Greffa to return to Thagnor?"

"The Queen has been in seclusion, Your Majesty, so I don't know if she's considered it, but Prince Phrames mentioned it. He's sent several companies of Sastragathi irregulars to follow the Styphoni to see that they're not doubling back or up to some other trick."

"Good." It's nice to know that I can leave for a while and the whole place doesn't fall apart, thought Kalvan. It also appears that Sarrask and Phrames are now working together, probably due to Sarrask's victory over Theovacar and his timely retreat-I certainly never would have allowed Sarrask that command, if I'd been there. Still, it was he, not Rylla, who had, once again, underestimated Sarrask. He had a feeling that Sarrask would rather walk on red-hot coals than disappoint his Queen.