The Fireseed Wars

III

Xenophes, High Marshal of Styphon's Own Guard, stared at his subordinate in disbelief. "What do you mean that in all of Hos-Ktemnos you could only find one hundred and eighteen recruits for the Temple Bands?"

"Most of the good recruits, at least those that aren't fighting with the Grand Host, have joined Styphon's Voice's Sephrax Guardsmen."

"Marshal, you mean Anaxthenes' private army!" Xenophes cried out, pounding on the table top.

"Yes, sir. The war with the Usurper Kalvan has dragged on too long. All the good recruits are either in the army or dead. We need to raise our enlistment bonus in order to compete with the Sephrax Guardsmen."

"And here, after all these years, I thought we were Styphon's Guard."

"True, we were until Anaxthenes was Elected as Styphon's Voice. He has found our support of Investigator Roxthar unacceptable."

"Before the Fireseed Wars, this would never have happened," Xenophes declared. "In those days we had almost twenty thousand men in scarlet. Now we field less than half that number, and most of those are either with the Grand Host, or supporting Investigator Roxthar's work in the False Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos. I had hoped to muster enough recruits to put at least three Bands back on the rolls. We have lost the 2nd, the 4th, the 9th and the 12th Band and on and on… Why so many? Has this been Grand Master Soton's doing?"

"No, High Marshal. The Temple Bands always fight in the thick of the battle; we are also renowned for never surrendering and, if captured, our men are tortured or hanged. I learned this at Ardros Field. The Hostigi call us the Red Hand of Styphon and cry, "No Quarter! No Mercy!" when fighting us. Our casualty rate is much, much higher than other units. Nor has it helped that this cursed war has dragged on for many winters. Our support of the Holy Investigation has further incensed our enemies."

"Yes, but this Investigation has been extremely profitable."

"Not if we lose our power base, sir." Marshal Stratos said.

"By Styphon's Beard, there is truth in your words."

"Maybe it is time to recall some of our Bands, sir?"

"And announce to all the world of our weakness? Then, Commander, you will see the wolves really come out of the woods."

"What else can we do, High Marshal?"

"I will not accept defeat at the hands of some stepped-up Archpriest. We will leave Balph while we still can, heads up and our glaives held high. We will tell Grand Master Soton that we are leaving in support of his advance into Hos-Agrys. He will not like it, but he cannot refuse our help, nor will Anaxthenes allow him such a liberty. It will please Styphon's Voice to see us leave."

"But isn't that a retreat?" the Grand Commander asked.

"No, it's a strategic withdrawal, while we still have the upper hand. We will establish a new base of operations in the Northern Kingdoms. It is time they learned of Styphon's real fist! After we have rebuilt our forces, we will return to the Holy City."

"What about the Investigator? Won't he be displeased?"

"Roxthar is our tool, not the other way around, Commander! Remember that. I will send him a letter telling him of our efforts to lay the groundwork for the Investigation of the Northern Kingdoms, and request his aid. If I know our man, he will bolt out of the Grand Host like one of Kalvan's rockets?'