The Fireseed Wars

FIVE

A brothel might not be the ideal military headquarters for the commander of the Five Kingdoms' largest army, but Captain-General Phidestros was attempting to make the best of it. At least the Gull's Nest's stoutly barred door and armed guards gave his command privacy from the white-robed priests of the Holy Investigation that had overrun Hostigos Town like ants over a broken crock of molasses. Nor did they have to suffer Archpriest Roxthar's daily harangues as he tried to bully the Grand Host into running down every errant Hostigi for the Investigation. Menandra's "parlor" didn't offer much in the way of furniture, but the chairs were comfortable and the ladies pleasant.

He finished tamping down the tobacco in his bowl, lit it with a splinter of wood and puffed on his pipe until the tobacco was burning. After exhaling a small cloud of smoke, he turned to his most trusted advisors, saying, "Soton and Great King Lysandros had another big meeting yesterday but I still don't know what they talked about." He threw his arms apart. "I'm supposed to be the commander of the Grand Host, but no one's bothered to tell me a thing. Does anyone else know what's going on between Soton and Lysandros?"

General Geblon, Phidestros' former second-in-command of his old mercenary unit, the Iron Band, shook his head.

Kyblannos, head of the Harphaxi Royal Artillery, spoke up. "From the scuttlebutt I've heard, Grand Master Soton is attempting to talk Roxthar into leaving his Investigators in Hos-Hostigos. Roxthar, who smells the blood of wounded prey, wants to dog Kalvan all the way to the Middle Kingdoms and put him to the Investigation. Maybe Soton's enlisted Great King Lysandros to help him thwart the Investigator?"

Phidestros studied the gray-haired artillery general carefully. Kyblannos had served in a score of mercenary units before joining the Iron Band, or Iron Company as it was called in those days. It was hard to find a company of mercenaries in the Northern Kingdoms in which he didn't know somebody. "That's a better story than the rumor I heard, the one in which Lysandros wants to take over command of the Grand Host himself and send us packing."

Geblon leaned his head back and barked out a laugh. "Not Dralm-damned likely! Who are they going to replace you with: Prince Anaxon, the late Captain-General Anaphon or General Tythos, who's been taking credit for every action-within a day's ride-that ended in success?"

"Well, how about Tythos' latest fiasco!" Kyblannos answered. "He came back into camp like a whipped dog, with his tail dragging. After two nights of running scared, he left behind two to three thousand troopers dead or captured. Now, according to him, it was all Captain-General Anaphon's fault for falling for the Hostigi wagon ruse!"

"Well, of course," Geblon returned, "poor Anaphon's in Hadron's Privy Pit, while Tythos is still alive. Who's to dispute his word-not those poor wretches that came streaming in behind him. The best of them, the gaol scrapings of the Five Kingdoms, and all that poppycock about Agrysi troopers fighting under Kalvan's banners."

"No, Tythos got that right," Phidestros said. "Everyone who was close to the disaster swears an oath that they saw Agrysi banners and the standards of Duke Mnestros. So there's some truth to that rumor."

"With that Dralm-blasted traitor, Demistophon, anything's possible," Geblon replied. "I fought in two campaigns in Hos-Agrys; the one sponsored by Great King Demistophon was the most slipshod, disorganized cat and dog fight I ever witnessed with these two eyes."

"This just proves they should have let you chase Kalvan the way you wanted, Captain-General," Kyblannos said.

He nodded. "Too late, now. I'm still waiting for orders."

Kyblannos shook his head. "Everyone wants to share the glory in a successful war and, from what I've heard, they all believe you've had more than your share. An old Agrysi comrade, who enlisted in Styphon's Own Guard, told me that Roxthar wants to split the army, send half of the Host against Kalvan and the other half against Great King Demistophon."

Phidestros shot up onto his feet, his pipe flying. "What? Arch-Butcher Roxthar now wants to divide my command, now that we finally have the opportunity to tree Kalvan and put him away for once and for all."

Kyblannos held a big horn-nailed finger to his mouth. "Hush! In Hostigos Town even the plaster walls have ears."

"But what has Demistophon done?"

Kyblannos lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "Demistophon didn't contribute any troops to the Grand Host, nor would he allow his vassals to do so. Now that he's allowed his Princes, or the League of Dralm, to attack the Host, Roxthar believes this is proof that he is in league with Kalvan. He wants to punish him, maybe Investigate the Agrysi. The League of Dralm has stuck in his craw like a finger bone. And, Roxthar blames Demistophon for not closing the League's shop down two winters ago."

Phidestros bent over to pick up his pipe, then sat back down. "Total lunacy! He acts as if Kalvan has run to ground, when he's still loose with almost half his army. The Grand Host is ready to march now. Every day we delay is another gift to Kalvan; time to run, time to rest his troops, time to recruit allies."

Both generals nodded their agreement. Kyblannos added, "Roxthar is a priest, not a military man; he doesn't understand momentum or how quickly it can dissipate. Kalvan's troops have lost their homes; they are weary, exhausted and their morale at its lowest ebb. This is the time to hunt him down and destroy the remnants of his army and his subjects."

Phidestros shook his head. "We can't afford to allow the Hostigi to retreat into the Middle Kingdoms. We have no allies there and Styphon's House has been overcharging them for inferior fireseed for years. Now, thanks to Kalvan, they can make their own. What do they owe Styphon's House or any army financed by the Temple?"

Geblon answered, "The blades of their swords. Yet, it is also true that few of those kingdoms who live by the Saltless Seas will welcome the former Great King Kalvan and his battle-weary soldiers and motley army of subjects."

"Which makes it even more urgent to chase him down now, before he makes his move," Phidestros said. "Kalvan has a genius for making friends: Look at how he was able to turn that barbarian Sargos into a close ally. King Nestros, too. It was not Kalvan's fault Nestros stabbed him in the back. Right now, we have our best opportunity to strike the demoralized Hostigi army, to kill Kalvan and to put paid to his legend."

Geblon was about to speak when a loud knock halted their conversation.

"What is it?" Geblon asked.

"A visitor, a Captain Ranthos. He wears the uniform of Styphon's Own Guard."

They all spat on the plank floor.

"He says it is urgent. He gave me a dispatch."

Geblon sighed and opened the door, taking the offered parchment. "You can leave." He shut the door and walked it over to his commander.

Phidestros opened the parchment and read: "I am wearing a disguise. To demonstrate my trust, I will tell you that I am a Greffan, who was working in the Royal Foundry of Hos-Hostigos. I was able to escape the night the Investigators attacked us and have been on the run ever since. I am in contact with other Hostigi, including Saski and Nostori who are interested in becoming your subjects. If you listen to me, I believe I can present you with a proposition worth your time."

Kyblannos whistled. "That must be some story."

Geblon nodded. "Shall I have him brought in?"

Phidestros smiled. "I have long desired to hear from my new subjects."

They all laughed.

"Bid him enter, but disarm him first."

"In case Roxthar's up to something?"

"Exactly."

Geblon shortly returned with a broad-shouldered man whose pate was completely bald. Underneath two pitiless gray eyes was a large moustache. Phidestros was impressed both by his bearing and his ability to return his gaze.

"Who are you and what is your real name?"

"Your Highness, Aranth was my Name Day gift. I changed it to Ranthos, after the Foundry was sacked, when I went into hiding. I am a former Greffan artillery officer, who became a mercenary in Hos-Agrys in order to learn more about your guns. There is little quality fireseed in Greffa, so I left to serve in the Five Kingdoms. I worked my way up to Captain of the Black Horn Battery based in Agrys City. We were recruited by a Styphon's House highpriest to fight in Sask for Prince Sarrask. My battery was captured at the Battle of Fyk by Great King Kalvan. He needed workers for his new Royal Foundry. I was offered terms and put in charge testing all the new guns for the Foundry.

"After the debacle at Ardros Field, I assumed that anyone picked up outside Hostigos Town with a Greffan or Zygrosi name would be immediately tagged for the Investigation. That's not an experience I intend to endure." The grim set of his mouth made it quite clear that if Ranthos were to be encouraged to leave this world, there would be a blood price.

He found it interesting that the Greffan called him by his less known Princely title, not his military one. "What is this 'proposition' that you believe I will find of interest?"

Ranthos said, "I offer you two companies of former Hostigi who would like to both continue living and soldiering. Many of these men have fought or lived in Hostigos and Sask. I believe the Red Claws and the Silver Companies might be of some value to Your Highness."

Phidestros paused to re-light his pipe, which had gone out during all his hand waving. "First, a few questions: Why are you still in Hostigos and not with your Great King?"

The man nodded as if he thought it was a good question. "Most of us were not able to leave with our King. Some had families they did not want to leave behind, others for various reasons did not want to flee again to foreign lands-maybe never to return."

The grin he gave made it quite clear that while they all might be soldiers, they might not be the most reputable.

Phidestros knew those soldiers were often the best fighters-if not, well, Tarr-Beshta was rumored to contain a large dungeon.

"Of what value to me are men of questionable loyalty?"

"Maybe, because we know things that only we have learned in the service of the Great King. Things we can teach you and your soldiers."

Phidestros nodded, not commenting out loud. "What else?"

Captain Ranthos smiled. "While I am out of touch with day-to-day-events in Hostigos Town, we do get occasional news. The fact that the Grand Host is still here is informative."

He nodded. "Continue."

"I expect the Grand Host will be on the move soon. If they plan to pursue Kalvan, they will need a warm trail. I am certain, if what we know of Grand Master Soton is true, that the Grand Master chafes under the Holy Investigator's anchor."

Phidestros nodded. For an outsider, this Ranthos appeared quite conversant with the Grand Host's current logjam. "Continue, Captain."

"Meanwhile, back in Greater Beshta, events are taking place beyond your present control. Investigators will come when you leave. Thieves and bandits will take advantage of the lack of central authority. Your new subjects will flee, preferring to take their chances in Hos-Harphax to death under the Investigation, or rape and pillage by bandits. It might take you years to rebuild what has been lost in one campaign."

Ranthos had tapped into his greatest worry. He suspected that Archpriest Roxthar was already setting up the Investigation of his lands while he was still in the field-it would be just like the white-robed murderer! Especially after he had insulted Roxthar over the woman Sirna, the Greffan healer. He'd put Captain Cythros in charge of Beshta, but he'd only been able to spare him a double-company.

"So how can you help solve my problems?"

"I don't expect you to trust me, or my men, right away. I'd suggest you send some of your own personal troops along to guarantee our loyalty. These Hostigi troopers, most of whom are deserters or men who could not join their Great King due to injuries, know what will happen to them if they are captured. So far, we've been lucky. But our numbers have grown so large that we have taken to ambushing the Investigation parties and wearing the armor and capes of the Red Hand. Still, sooner or later, we will be caught and called for an accounting."

Phidestros could see the man made sense. He had heard rumors of missing Investigators; Archpriest Roxthar had demanded that he send regulars to search the hillsides for bandits and escaped Hostigi army units. So far, he'd been able to refuse. Captain Ranthos was not only audacious but clever as well. He had proved that merely by surviving in the present climate. The remaining question was: Is he useful and trustworthy?

The big man made a flourish as if rolling all the bones in both hands. "So as you see, Your Highness, our time here is limited. In Greater Beshta we could help restore order to your lands, and-as you know-we have a vested interest in keeping the Investigation beyond your borders."

Phidestros laughed. "You do at that!" He liked this blunt-speaking foreigner. If Kalvan had relied on him to protect his precious Royal Foundry, he must be of trustworthy character. And, it was also true, that Captain Cythros could use all the soldiers Phidestros could send to Greater Beshta to help hold his lands. The next question was: Why did Ranthos leave Kalvans service? "Why didn't you personally follow your overlord, King Kalvan, into retreat?"

Ranthos smiled as if he'd been waiting for that question. "I was not oath-sworn as an officer of the Royal Army, but as a guard and advisor to the Foundry. My oath and duty ended when the Investigators arrived and killed my co-workers and burned the Royal Foundry to the ground. Of course, we sent some of the Red Hand as an escort to Galzar's Hall. Still, I was lucky to escape with my life."

A good answer, thought Phidestros. He could also see why the Greffan captain might not want to report to Kalvan after leaving his post in ruins. It was also true that he needed more men he could trust in Beshta while he was on campaign. I can spare a company of the Iron Band to escort these new soldiers. The trick would be raising even more when they arrived.

"How can you further my position in Greater Beshta?"

"I can use my men to recruit all the former Hostigi soldiers left in Hos-Hostigos. As I'm sure you know, the entire populace is frightened near to death by this gods-cursed Investigation. As soon as we arrive, word will travel fast throughout the former princedoms of Hos-Hostigos and all the able-bodied men and women still remaining will speed to Beshta as iron filings to a magnet. By the time you return from your campaign, you will have hundreds, or even thousands, of new subjects who will die in your service to thwart the Unholy Investigator."

"Your words not only make sense but are music to my ears. If you can include a few mapmakers among my new subjects, there will be a big purse of gold for you. To ensure your loyalty, I will make you baron of any barony in the former Princedom of Sashta you choose to be your demesne."

Geblons mouth gaped.

Ranthos bowed. "Your Highness is most generous. Your wisdom and leadership are even greater than I had been led to believe." He quickly oath-bound himself to Phidestros in the name of Galzar Wolfhead, God of War and Judge of Princes.

Phidestros then swore Ranthos into the Beshtan Army as Grand-Captain.

Once the oath-swearing was done, Kyblannos tapped him on the shoulder. "There is much I want to ask this Greffan about Kalvans Foundry."

"You will have your candle, Kyblannos, after he has changed out of these garments. But, first, I have an assignment for our new Grand-Captain."

"Yes, Captain-General."

"As you've observed, the Investigation has killed many of our potential subjects; however, not all have been put to the question. Many have been sold into slavery and are bound for the slave markets in Hos-Harphax and Hos-Ktemnos."

The look on Ranthos face would have made a lesser man quake. "I know," he said through gritted teeth.

"Well, I think we can address at least this evil." Phidestros paused to spit on the floor. "I despise slavery in all of its guises. One of Kalvan's first acts as Great King was to outlaw it in Hos-Hostigos. I have always admired that as I have admired his highway and his mapmakers and farseers."

Ranthos nodded. "He was a good ruler."

"I agree." Both Geblon and Kyblannos paled.

"Still, he is my sworn enemy and I will do my duty to kill him to the best of my ability, even if it means his death by my own hand."

"Understood, Grand Captain-General."

"Five large parties of slaves have left Hostigos Town in last quarter-moon. As you know, they will be moving very slowly."

"Yes. I have seen slave trains before."

"Your first order is to ambush as many of these slave parties as you can catch up with and free all the slaves. They will be under your protection until they arrive in Beshta. There you will find farms and housing for them."

"What about the caravan drivers, guards and slave drivers?"

"Kill them all-and their masters. Let none live. Those who traffic in human flesh have no honor. Death is too good for them."

"With pleasure."

"Now, if you don't mind, please satisfy Kyblannos' questions about the Royal Foundry."

The Greffan bowed and followed behind the shorter but broader artillery general.

After they left the room, Geblon asked, "What if he's lying?"

"Kyblannos will know before an eighth of a candle. No one can dissemble about guns before our friend. No, Ranthos is our man. If I am wrong, it will be time for me to go before the Investigation for my usefulness as a commander of men is done."

Geblon made a circle over his breast. "Please, do not joke about the Investigation again, my Captain. I would rather face Kalvan's guns unarmed than go before Roxthar's butchers. May Galzar bless and protect us all."