The Fireseed Wars

II

Kalvan looked down with paternal pride as little Demia scurried around the chamber, half-walking, half-running, like any normal toddler with three nursemaids and concerned parents watching on. I'm going to miss her a lot! Her Mom, too, he mused.

"She's gotten used to having you around, Kalvan. You leaving will be hard for her. Me, too!"

Kalvan gave Rylla a big hug, despite the "looks" from Demia's nursemaids-protocol be damned, my family's leaving without me!

Demia started to tug at the bottom edge of the Upper Middle Kingdoms' deerskin map and one of the nursemaids rushed over, picking her up. Immediately, she started to bawl.

"Dysola, please take the baby to the nursery. The Great King and I have things to discuss."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Kalvan reached over and took Demia out of the nursemaid's arms, giving her a big hug, then bussed her on the neck. She started to giggle between sobs, making a sound like a strangled hiccup.

"You go with your nurse, little one. Daddy will be come later to tuck you in."

"Da Da."

He smiled wanly. "Bye-bye."

When she was gone, Rylla said, "She'll probably be speaking Urgothi by the time you see her again."

He nodded. "Dralm-damnit, I'm going to miss you both! I wish I could ferry all of us to Thagnor, but it's impossible."

"We'll be fine. I'll protect our people as best I can, with the Allfather's help."

Kalvan was sure Rylla would do everything possible to see they made it safely overland to Thagnor; he was also sure the Grand Host would do everything it could to make sure she didn't. That's what bothered him. He was taking the safe route, while his family, friends and subjects were in real danger. It rankled.

"We've got enough soldiers to protect our people. Besides, you've given me the better part of the army. Hestophes' Army of Observation will act as the van for my Army of the Trygath. We have no better commander than yourself, my husband."

He nodded. The plans were as good as they could be, under the circumstances; however, circumstances had a way of changing and the best-laid plans- Stop! He told himself. He was more nervous about her leaving than he'd been before battle with the Grand Host. No need to turn into a Nervous Nelly-that won't help anyone, will it?

"Besides Captain-General Hestophes, I've got General Alkides, Captain Nathros of the Sappers and Engineers, Duke Chartiphon and Prince Pheblon, who's not much help in a fight, but he's loyal. What about General Baldour?"

"He'll be going with you, darling," Kalvan said. She would need Baldour's expertise on the Trygath and Middle Kingdoms.

"What about Phrames-is he going with you?"

The tone of her voice made it sound as if the Prince had a terminal illness. To her, Phrames was just another old woman-like her husband. Well, regardless, Kalvan was going to have to stop second-guessing his wife. With Harmakros and Verkan dead, she was his best commander and he needed her generalship-faults and all. Although, even he had to admit she was making a determined effort to "do as I do." Whether that would last once she was out of the Port Ulthor city gates, well, that was yet to be determined.

"I need Phrames with me." Kalvan said, "for some breaking and entering when we reach Thagnor City."

"That's fine. Phrames works better with you, my husband," she added with a big hug.

"What about Prince Sarrask?" she asked.

"He will be with you," he said with a feeling of relief. He didn't dislike Sarrask, but his larger-than-life bonhomie was wearing, when it wasn't grating. Plus, he felt obliged to always set a good example when around him, for fear that Sarrask would take one of his words wrong, like one of Henry II's courtiers, and do serious damage-all the while thinking he was doing his Great King a favor.

"Good!" Rylla cried, rubbing her hands.

"You really like him, don't you?"

She grinned. "Sarrask-or the 'Improved Sarrask'-as you like to call him, has turned out to be a loyal vassal and a good co-commander. He's one of the few Princes that has stuck by us-well, besides Phrames, and that's not a fair comparison since you elevated him to Prince of Beshta."

"What makes you so certain Sarrask's all that loyal? Part of me thinks he's just stuck around because we give him plenty of fighting, which is his favorite pastime."

"Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"About Sarrask's brand?"

That was one of the problems with being Great King, everyone either assumed you were omniscient and knew everything, or went overboard trying to keep things from you. You certainly were no longer one of the "boys."

"What brand?"

"Oh, it's Styphon's Own story! Let me tell you. It started after our loss at Ardros Field, when Sarrask returned to Hostigos Town. Everyone was frightened white of Archpriest Roxthar's Investigation, as they should have been. Sarrask wanted to stay behind with the volunteers at Tarr-Hostigos and 'keep it safe from those manure-eating Styphoni,' as he calls them. You were still laid up with your wound, so I was the one who had to turn down his offer."

"I remember some of that, but vaguely."

"Afterwards, Sarrask rode off to the Silver Stag and went on a drunk that would have made Phydros, God of Wine, envious. Another officer, who was also deep in his cups, told Sarrask that he'd been refused because no one really trusted him. I later had the Colonel busted down to a petty captain, but the damage was done. To prove his loyalty, Sarrask had one of his armorers work up a special brand, then had himself tattooed on the arse with it!"

"What? Nobody tells me anything. What kind of brand?"

"One that identified him as a subject of Hos-Hostigos for the rest of his life. He had the Hos-Hostigos keystone permanently branded on his arse. His rationale was that if he was ever disloyal to you, my husband, that he would still be called a Hostigi and traitor to Styphon any time he undressed."

Kalvan nodded. Drunks, they'll do anything. Of course, this was a culture where those kinds of drunken statements got turned into legends, or ballads sung by troubadours.

"Half his bodyguard-also as drunk as skunks-had their bums branded, too. So you see, my husband, Sarrask has proven his loyalty to the Throne far beyond anything We would have ever asked."

"It was dumb, but also kind of admirable. I'll admit it."

"Good, then you'll agree that Sarrask should be rewarded for his loyalty, and for the losses he has suffered demonstrating that loyalty and fighting for the Fireseed Throne. After all, he lost an entire princedom."

Yes, and we lost an entire kingdom. Where is Rylla going with all this and why do I have the feeling I'm being set up so she can reward her brother in mischief? "Yes, okay, he deserves some compensation."

"Well, my plan is that after we besiege and sack Rathon City, I will invest Prince Sarrask as the new King of Rathon."

"You'll-what?"

"You've already agreed we were not going to let that traitorous dog that calls himself Nestros remain on the throne of Rathon-calling him a Great King is an insult to the name!"

"Yes, in principle. But the idea was to reward some local noble and have him rule with our support, thus ensuring his loyalty."

"Ha! Loyalty that will blow away the moment our army leaves Rathon. You do not know the Trygathi as I do, husband. They are traitorous dogs, all of them. Maybe there are a few exceptions in Rathon, but, I ask you, how will We tell them apart? We can't. So, We are better off rewarding one of Our own that We do trust and We can begin rebuilding our Kingdom in Rathon. It'll be the first kingdom of Nos-Hostigos."

New Hostigos, Nos-Hostigos in Zarthani, Neus Hostigos in Urgothi, that's how it would translate. Hmm. Not a bad name, until we return home. For a while, I was afraid we were going to be like the Tsarist Russians in exile after World War I in New York City. That's not for us, going to teas and receptions in Greffa City, talking about the good ol' days.

"If Sarrask is your co-commander, how can you leave him behind?"

Rylla whooped for joy, obviously having thought out all his objections beforehand.

"I won't. He won't want to stay there, not while there's the promise of a good fight, any more than we want him to remain behind. I'll let him appoint one of his generals as Duke or Prince pro-tem, as you put it, with enough men to hold the City and orders to keep the Styphoni out."

"Well, you've just stumbled across my next objection. What happens when Styphon's House comes to town? Tell me that, my Lady."

She smirked. "I'll have some of our engineers stay behind and build your earthworks. You've always said that good earthworks would keep out any of our enemies. Did you not?"

He nodded. Rylla was right, some of those earthworks near the end of the Italian Wars had stopped the French Army dead in their tracks. With the cannons the French had used-not much advanced over the here-and-now guns-the French Army couldn't breach the earthworks because the cannon balls just sank into the packed earth, leaving the stone walls underneath impregnable.

"You were right to remind me. As I remember, the walls of Rathon City are pretty impressive, even by Great Kingdom's standards. With proper earthworks-and you'll have the entire City to do your bidding-Rathon City could stop the Grand Host right in its tracks. Maybe even stub its toe. They'll either have to spend six moons or more investing and laying siege, or pass it by. Which is what they'll have to do if they have any hope of catching up with Us. An excellent stratagem, Rylla."

She beamed. "Thank you, my King."

"Come here, my Queen, I think I can come up with a suitable reward for your little plan."

"Oh, please, my liege. Shall we go to your bedchambers?"

Kalvan laughed despite himself. It felt good for them to be working together again. And, anything bad that came to Nestros the False, he had bought and earned by his betrayal. Wasn't there also a new High Temple to Styphon in Rathon City? Another hundred thousand ounces of gold for the Treasury.

"What's taking you so long?"

"Hold on, I was just thinking how taking Rathon will help pay for the rebuilding of Thagnor City."