The Fireseed Wars

SIXTEEN

Rylla sat on her horse, staring in awe at the great walls of Rathon City that rose before her like a stone plateau. Kalvan had once described the City to her in detail, but it wasn't the same as seeing it in person. The stone walls were four lances thick at the base, three in the middle and two on top-wide enough to fit four men on horseback side by side. Rathon City dominated the surrounding countryside like a small mountain.

During her foray into Hos-Harphax to hunt down Prince Araxes of Phaxos, she'd encountered some remarkable fortifications, but nothing like this. On the other hand, Hos-Harphax was corrugated with mountains and most castles were hilltop tarrs. The area around Rathon City didn't have much in the way of commanding heights, so the Rathoni went for city walls, great bulwarks that had held back scores of barbarian hordes and rebellious armies.

As the last of the great bombards was levered off its oversized wagon bed, Rylla looked up at the sun to gauge the time, then turned to Captain-General Alkides, asking, "How long before we can fire the first volley?"

"My gunners should have the Fat Duchess in position and loaded in half a candle, Your Majesty."

"Good, because we only have about four candles of daylight left." She looked over the motley collection of guns, ranging from mobile eight-pounders to two-hundred pound bombards. Other than the two flying batteries Kalvan had held back for the Army of the Saltless Seas and the four- and six-pounders for the gunboats, these eighty odd guns and mortars were all the artillery remaining to the Army of Hos-Hostigos. Regardless, altogether they made an impressive demonstration, especially backed by more than fifteen thousand infantry and cavalry.

Right now, she thought, I wouldn't want to be in King Nestros' boots for all the gold in the Balph Treasury.

While Alkides was orchestrating his first volley, she motioned Captain-General Chartiphon and General Klestreus to her side. At her urging, Kalvan had relented and permitted Chartiphon to strap on his sword again; it had knocked years off his carriage and appearance. He appeared enthused for the first time since they had left Hostigos.

"Your Majesty?" Klestreus said, breathing harder than his horse, which was laboring under his hundred odd ingots of weight.

"What do your spies have to say about Rathon's defenses?" Since entering the Trygath, the Army had turned the area into a wasteland, burning those crops they could not harvest and blowing up farmhouses and towns with fireseed grenades, as Kalvan called them. As they'd moved through the Kingdom of Cyros, they had pushed Nestros' subjects before them, tens of thousands of refugees all fleeing for the safety of Rathon City's walls, leaving a smoldering deadland behind. It hadn't been difficult for Klestreus to plant several score of intelligencers amongst their midst.

Rylla could just imagine the fear and anxiety of the City's inhabitants, magnified by the stories of death and destruction told by the refugees and Klestreus' agents. She might have even felt sympathetic had they themselves not had the Grand Host of Styphon snapping at their heels, making its way through Nyklos at this very moment. Whatever had stopped the Host's advance was behind them now. Her only satisfaction was in knowing that the Styphoni were traveling through a Nyklosi wasteland where there was neither relief nor succor.

Once he'd caught his breath, the barrel-sized General began to provide her with an answer. "Our spies tell us that King Nestros has over twenty-five thousand troops within the City walls, mostly infantry. He left most of the Rathoni cavalry to harass our supply lines and attack our foragers, which as you know hasn't been successful."

Rylla nodded. Using decoys, Captain-General Hestophes, who was commanding the Army of Observation, had managed to capture one of three main cavalry divisions in an envelopment, killing hundreds and capturing ten times that number. This had caused the other commanders to back off from directly attacking the Hostigi. Since then, the Army of the Trygath had moved through the Kingdom of Rathon virtually unopposed.

"Inside the City, morale is bad. Many of the infantry remember fighting with the Hostigi against the Zarthani Knights, and were very favorably impressed with both our army and the quality of our commanders. They also have fond memories of King Kalvan. The city folk blame this invasion on Nestros' ambition and his alliance with the Styphoni and Hos-Ktemnos. We have fanned these embers with stories of the Investigation and the excesses of the Northern Kingdom highpriests of Styphon.

"The rabble inside the City are terrified. They view all the guns aimed at their Great Gates as Galzar's revenge for their King's treachery. They hate the arrogant highpriests their King has invited into their City and it will not take much of a breeze to turn their hot embers of anger into open rebellion!"

"Good," Rylla replied. "We don't have a lot of time to waste. How were my envoys received, Klestreus?"

"My spies have made sure that all inside know of your terms. They all fear your promise to tear the Great Gates from their walls. The Rathoni have never faced more than two or three cannon at one time."

"Good. They know that only surrendering the City will save them."

"Yes, Your Majesty. Word of your exploits in Phaxos have traveled far, even to the ends of the Trygath. No one in the City doubts your word."

Rylla prayed to herself: Allfather Dralm, I beseech you, let the Rathoni see reason and surrender the City. She did not want to be responsible for the massacre that would follow once the Gates were destroyed. Until Demia was born, she'd viewed war as a sport, a terrible sport but one she greatly enjoyed. Now, she saw every soldier as a mother's son, and it had robbed her of that joy. Rathon City, which had housed eighty thousand when her husband had visited, had swelled to three times that number, filled to the bursting with refugees fleeing from Hostigi swords. The killing here would set up cries that would be heard in the Sky-Palaces of the Gods!

Furthermore, she had plans for this great City. Kalvan had asked her to besiege and take Rathon City. With a new king and a good stiffening of Hostigi soldiers, the City could make a roadblock that the Styphoni could neither afford to take, nor leave behind. She meant to do her best to see that his wishes were carried out.

Chartiphon, his back ramrod straight, rode up beside her. "Your Majesty, the gunners are preparing the linstocks."

Rylla turned and saw the gunners, each standing next to a gun or bombard, holding their linstocks with a slow match in the fork. "You have my permission to fire."

"Light your matches!" Alkides cried.

She heard the drums begin to beat. The tension in the air was almost palpable. When all the matches had been lit, the fireseed smoke from the linstocks tickled her nose.

"Fire!" Alkides cried, mimicking her husband's orders.

The gunners applied the linstocks to the touch holes.

The resulting boom shook the earth, as if the God Endrath had shrugged his shoulders.

Some of the shots missed the Great Gates, gouging great scoops of stone out of the walls, spraying stone fragments as the huge stone balls shattered on impact! The Great Gates shuddered and one gate slowly slumped down at one end as an iron hinge collapsed. When the gray-streaked smoke cleared, she could see some of the gate timbers were crushed and broken. Another volley, maybe two, and the Great Gates would fall.

Rylla prayed to Allfather Dralm that the city dwellers inside had enough sense to surrender.

As Kalvan had reminded her, these Great Gates had held firm against the assaults of nomad hordes and barbarian armies, but they'd never experienced mass cannonading. "It will shatter their morale as well as the gates," he'd predicted. She prayed to the True Gods that he was right.

Chartiphon leaned out of his saddle, saying, "My ears are still screeching! What a sight. They must surrender, Your Majesty."

Rylla waved away the fireseed smoke so she could see. She could imagine them not surrendering quite easily. Mobs were fools, and at the moment, it was the mob who held the City in thrall; not Great King Nestros.

Once her hearing returned, she turned to Chartiphon and began to describe the rebuilding of the Great Gates and city walls. "Once we hold the City, I want to have the gates extended in stone. Then, we'll put a metal portcullis, thick enough that it will resist anything the Grand Host can hurl at it, at the first entry gate.

She got off her horse and began to make a drawing in the dirt. First, she drew an oblong circle, saying, "This is the outer wall."Then she drew a five-pointed star over it. "I want to extend the city walls to these points with a battery at the ends."

"Like the starfort that the Great King designed at Tarr-Locra?"

"Yes, Chartiphon. With guns set at the ends of the star, the Styphoni artillery will not be able to enfilade the Great Gate or any other section of the city walls with their artillery. Plus, our guns will be in a position to shoot at any of their siege towers or catapults. Then I want you to build great earthworks almost up to the top of the walls. However, leave a small area at the top where you can put a metal facing with murder holes for the rifles. That way the riflemen will be free to shoot at the attackers while protected from return fire."

Chartiphon nodded. "There is great wisdom in this. You have learned your husband's ways of war. I am proud of you."

Rylla felt tears well up, but forced them down. With her father and Harmakros dead and Xentos estranged from his people, Chartiphon was the only one of her original family she had left. "Thank you, Duke."

"No, it is I that should ask for your forgiveness. For my pride's sake, I opposed your husband in things both small and large. I was afraid of the change he dragged in his wake. Instead, I should have welcomed it. It broke Styphon's House's shackles and he saved our people… for a time. I know now he will do it again, in this gods-forsaken land."

"If any man can, he will do it," she said. "What is that noise?"

There was a great creaking and groaning, as if one of the Great Gates was about to fall from its moorings. Then the gates slowly opened and a mob of men stormed out. For a moment, she was about to order the guns to fire again, fearing a sortie. Then she saw their helmets-and other things: heads-raised on sword points. Her Beefeaters, headed by Grand-Captain Xykos, formed a wedge around her and Captain-General Chartiphon.

"Xykos! Raise me upon your shoulders and give me your farseer. I want to see what's going on over there!"

Two huge hands lifted her up onto Xykos' shoulders, as easily as she would have hoisted Princess Demia. Through the farseer she could see the men from the City again. They were bowing and the leaders were making themselves prostrate on the ground, crying out: "Down Styphon! Down Nestros! Down Styphon!"

One of the heads still had its crown, while several of the others had the shaved pates of Styphon's highpriests. She watched as one of the soldiers in Hostigos colors removed the crown with the point of his sword blade. The City is ours!

A few moments later, a delegation led by Prince Sarrask approached her horse, where Xykos had promptly seated her once she'd finished her initial observations. Sarrask held Nestros' crown at sword point. He let it slip down into his hands and wiped the blood off with his cape before presenting it to his Queen. "Here, Your Majesty. Taken from the Dralm-blasted traitor's head, whose name I shall not mention! I fear there'll be no more fighting today."

"Thank you, Sarrask."

She twirled the crown on one finger while she put her thoughts in order. She had told Kalvan that she would invest Sarrask as king of Rathon, but he was, like Hestophes, too valuable in the field. Besides, she'd grown accustomed to his gruff company, and he'd been with her in every victory since the war against Styphon had begun. It was true, Sarrask had once been her sworn enemy until the Battle of Fyk-then the gods, or her husband, had won his loyalty. He might be her gods-given luck gift.

Furthermore, now that she'd seen Rathon City she was loathe to entrust it to one of Sarrask's cronies. No, she needed someone in this seat whom she could absolutely trust to carry out her every order. When she made a list in her mind of those most deserving for this honor, one name, and one name only, sprung onto the top of the list.

Meanwhile, the Rathoni delegation, led by a group of what appeared to be richly robed merchants, bowed before her, saying, "We have deposed the False King Nestros, Your Majesty. We sue for peace with Hos-Hostigos!"

"You are wise. You have saved your people from a terrible bloodletting. We command you to stand." Then she turned to Chartiphon, pointing at him. "Meet your new King. We, Great Queen Rylla, proclaim our servant Chartiphon, Duke of Hostigos and Captain-General of the Royal Army, to be the new King of Rathon."

"Hail King Chartiphon!" they cried as one.

Chartiphon appeared stunned, as if he were dreaming. "My Queen, but why?"

She leaned close enough to say in private, "I'm doing you no favor, Uncle. I have no one else with your wisdom and leadership to leave in charge. I need someone I trust to hold this City against the Grand Host at all costs."

She turned back to the supplicants. "First, tell your people there will be a curfew from nightfall to sunrise for the next moon quarter. Anyone on the streets after dark will be considered a rebel or looter and will be killed on sight. Next, I order you to bring all the officers of the Rathon Army to me. At once!"

They leaped onto their feet, crying, "Yes, Your Majesty," before scurrying back to the City.

"Halt!" They froze in mid-step to a man.

Queen Rylla turned to Prince Sarrask. "Have your cavalrymen accompany them. Any unit that resists, kill them all!"

"Aye, aye, Your Majesty!" he cried.

The delegates paled. Already the Hostigi Corp of Engineers were working the Great Gates loose from their hinges. The guards along walls were all lifting their helmets on swords. From where she sat, it appeared the City streets were deserted.

She called Chartiphon to her side again. "I'm going to leave you five thousand Hostigi regulars to stiffen the troops that you'll find inside. I understand most of them haven't been paid in a moon half so they should be quite eager for a five crown muster bonus. Bring all who are fit into Our Army."

"Silver or gold?"

"Silver. Although, I suspect you won't be short of gold. The Styphon's House High-Temple of Rathon should be good for a hundred thousand ounces and the three smaller temples should provide another fifty thousand or more. Part of Nestros' deal with Balph was that he construct the temples immediately. We must have men inside the palace to guard the Treasury, which is sparse, considering all the concessions Nestros made to Styphon's House to guarantee his legitimacy. Still, there ought to be enough to pay the troops until you start collecting taxes and duties.

"Klestreus has a list of suspected Styphoni worshippers and possible traitors among the lords and merchants. I suggest you imprison them all and hang the worst of them. Keep an eye on the traitors who killed their King, too. I suggest that you find reasons to question their loyalty. Confiscate their wealth and property; that will provide you with operating capital until you get the tax situation sorted out."

Chartiphon looked a little dazed, but a smile was beginning to crease his lips.

"Also, I want you to take a wife-someone of the Rathoni nobility. The higher the better, and from a large and wealthy family. And soon."

"A wife! At my age!"

"You're not that old! I want you to sire several children, at least one boy. You're founding a dynasty-whether you like it or not. And, that's an order!"

This time a big smile broke out. "Yes, Your Majesty. This might prove to be one of your more enjoyable orders!"

"If you think it'll be a problem, I'll find you one."

"No! By the Gods, no, Your Majesty. I can still fire my own powder, thank you."

"Good. Then it's settled. I expect a wedding feast before we leave."

Chartiphon's mouth gaped. "When is that?"

"You've got five days. Allfather Dralm built his Sky-Palace in two."

Chartiphon gulped, saying, "Yes, Your Majesty."