The Fireseed Wars

THIRTY-TWO

The biting night cold reminded Kalvan of when he was a boy and occasionally spent the Christmas holidays with his aunt and uncle in Michigan. While not poor, his Uncle Al had worked as a meter-reader for the electric company; they lived a meager existence. As a money-saving practice, his uncle would turn off the furnace at bedtime and not put it on again until morning. He remembered curling up in his long Johns under as many blankets and quilts as he could pile on his bed, and still feeling the winter chill penetrate all the way to the marrow of his bones.

The royal bedchamber was drafty with walls of stone, overlaid with tapestries and wall hangings, which provided a modicum of protection. While the cold in Tarr-Thagnor was even chillier than in his uncle and aunt's house, he had the advantage of a bearskin comforter and Rylla snuggled up beside him. He was about to drop off to sleep when there was a gentle knock at the chamber door.

Kalvan carefully got out of the blankets and comforter and rubbed his hands together briskly. Hostigos had never been this cold, not even during the Winter of the Wolves! He slipped into his silver fox slippers and put on his sable robe, tiptoeing to the door. He didn't want to wake Rylla unless absolutely necessary. Due to her new pregnancy, she was as hot-tempered as crackling bacon.

He opened the door a crack, asking, "Who is it?"

"Cleon, Your Majesty. Word has come that a boat bearing the standard of Duke Mnestros of Eubros has docked at the City Wharves. Captain-General Hestophes ordered me to wake you and inform you of the Duke's arrival."

"Excellent, you are dismissed. Go back to sleep. You look bushed."

"As do you, sire."

"Yes, but I'm not allowed to be." Not when a potential ally arrives by boat this late in the season. Has Mnestros also been exiled, driven from Hos-Agrys by Styphon's House?

"Neither am I, sire. I will clear the table and see that some fresh tea and Ermut's Best is brought from the kitchen."

"Thank you, Cleon."

"What is it, my husband?"

"A friend has arrived."

Rylla, her black bearskin comforter dropping to her waist, used her tinderbox to light an oil lamp in a sconce next to the bed. "I will join you, then."

Kalvan looked at his wife and took a deep breath. Sometimes this kingship thing is harder than it looks, he thought, wanting nothing more than to take his wife in his arms. As she dressed, he could see the swelling in her belly. From how she was showing, he put the date of conception to about the time she left Ulthor Port last summer. It was too early to tell the Court or his subjects, but in the long run a boy child would weld his new Kingdom together better than anything else but a triumphant victory over Styphon's Grand Host. If it's another daughter, well, Praise Dralm anyway; if nothing else, this will keep Rylla out of the path of any stray bullets this coming spring.

As soon as they were both informally dressed, they went into the antechamber where they found Captain-General Hestophes pacing back and forth.

"Any word yet?" Kalvan asked, as he sat down in a royal-red padded chair.

Hestophes shook his head. "I only know that the Duke would not make a trip this time of year unless it was bad news."

Duke Mnestros was one of their few trusted allies in Kingdom of Hos-Agrys; he had even joined them with his household troops for several campaigns. Mnestros was bright, not afraid of innovation and he soaked up information like a sponge. Kalvan could have used a hundred allies just like him.

Cleon arrived with three mugs of ginseng tea and a small cask of Ermut's Best. He poured tea for Kalvan and Rylla and filled Hestophes' goblet with brandy.

The three of them discussed next year's campaign, which included an attack on Greffa-now that the Grefftscharri were known allies of Styphons House-down across the lower Michigan peninsula, then up to Greffa City.

He had considered using the Maumee River (called the Erkfryn River here-and-now), which was navigable to shallow draft boats and provided an easy invasion route directly to Greffa City, but that might start a war with his neighbors, the Morthroni, who had an alliance with Grefftscharr. Plus, the Maumee corridor was heavily guarded with watchtowers and a series of forts, or varts as the Urgothi called them. Hopefully, a strike at Greffa would force King Theovacar to abandon his planned attack on Thagnor, or at the very least recall some of his troops to protect his capital.

Kalvan was on his second mug of tea when Cleon arrived with Duke Mnestros in tow. The young Duke looked exhausted, with deep weather lines in his face. If you took away the hair on top, he would have been the spitting image of his father, or at least the portrait of Prince Thykarses that Kalvan had seen.

Kalvan rose and the two men hugged and clasped each other's shoulders.

"Your Majesty, it is good to see you again. And you Great Queen Rylla, as well as my friend. Captain-General, is it now?"

Hestophes smiled.

"How was your journey?" Kalvan asked.

The Duke shook his head. "Rough, very rough. I'd rather face a Wedge of Zarthani Knights than another attack of those northern storm waves."

"Then whatever brought you here must be important, Duke."

"Yes, Your Majesty. The Five Kingdoms are abuzz with the news of your conquest of Thagnor. When do you plan to return to Hostigos?"

Kalvan shrugged. "We still have the Grand Host of Styphon waiting in the wings for spring. They field twice the manpower our new Kingdom of Nos-Hostigos can mobilize. We may be here for awhile."

Rylla nodded in agreement, with a scowl on her face. She was still unhappy about Kalvan's lack of enthusiasm for returning to Hostigos.

Duke Mnestros slumped into a chair. "I was hoping otherwise, Your Majesty. This time around it is we who need your help."

"By 'we,' do you mean the League of Dralm, who ignored our pleas of help, the Kingdom of Hos-Agrys, which attacked us without provocation in the Year of the Wolf, or the Princedom of Eubros and you yourself who has faithfully worked on our behalf?"

"All of them, Your Majesty. We just got word from the High Temple of Dralm that Grand Master Soton will be invading Hos-Agrys this campaign season."

"That's very interesting news!" Kalvan interjected.

"And why is that important to us?" Rylla asked, frowning.

Mnestros held out his hands. "We need your help. I have observed the Hostigi art of war, but I am still a student. My reputation and age are such that it is unlikely that I will be put in command of the League's army. I volunteered to seek out Your Majesties and plead for a Hostigi Captain-General to return with me to co-command the League's Army."

Rylla looked as if she were about to explode until Kalvan shot her a look. He knew that she was still smarting from Xentos' refusal to help Hos-Hostigos in their hour of need. However, she was forgetting one of his favorite dictums: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. If the League of Dralm could defeat Soton in Hos-Agrys, the Styphoni would be forced to remove more troops from the Grand Host, or even abandon their efforts in the Upper Middle Kingdoms all together.

"It is an idea worthy of our consideration, Duke," Kalvan said.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I asked Allfather Dralm for your aid."

Rylla fumed and all but had smoke shooting out of her ears.

Kalvan said, "We will need time to ponder your request. You will have our answer either tomorrow or the day after."

"Thank you, thank you," Mnestros said, as he all but scraped the floor with his bowing while making an exit.

Kalvan made a sigh of relief when the Duke left the chamber.

"Are you mad, Kalvan?"

"No. If the League attacks Soton while he is besieging Hos-Agrys it will hold up his conquest, and that is good for Hostigos."

"How, my husband?"

"If Styphon's House is forced to fight a war on two flanks, it will take pressure off their war upon Nos-Hostigos. They will have to supply two big armies, and that will tax even Styphon's Houses's reserves. It may even mean they will be forced to abandon their efforts here in the Upper Middle Kingdoms; there are those among the Inner Circle who see our pursuit as Roxthar's Vengeance and would love to end it. This war is costing Styphon's House a fortune in gold and materiel.

"Furthermore, supporting the League of Dralm will buy us good will with our friends in the Five Kingdoms and thereby leave the door wedged open for our eventual return to Old-Hostigos, or Uld-Hostigos as our subjects are calling it."

"Well, those words are music to my ears, even though I loathe supporting that nest of traitors and backstabbers in Agrys City, including Primate Xentos."

"I know how you feel, but put this under the heading of realpolitik."

"Machiavelli again?"

"No, Bismarck. But you're in the right neighborhood. Machiavelli came from a time in my lands' history very similar to this age. Instead of Styphon's House, there was the Church of Rome and not-so-Holy Roman Empire. Treachery, duplicity and assassination were the watchwords during his time."

"Much like that of Balph or King Theovacar's Court," Rylla stated.

"Exactly. I would like to lead the League forces myself, but our hold here in the Middle Kingdoms is still slippery enough that I cannot afford to leave."

"You'd better not! We've been separated far too much as it is this year."

"I know, darling." She looked at him again with a look that was completely for private consumption. He was glad she'd miss this year's fighting; he didn't know what he'd do if he ever lost her.

But, back to business. "Hestophes, I know you are just newly returned from the Sea of Grass and a newlywed, but are you willing to leave with the Duke for Hos-Agrys and co-command the League's forces?"

"My wife will understand and, with Her Majesty's permission, accompany me."

"Of course, Hestophes," Rylla said with affection. She liked the unpretentious general, who after Kalvan was the Kingdom's greatest commander. "I will miss Captain Lysia as she is one of the Pioneers'best captains."

"If you don't mind, Your Majesty, I will tell her your words."

"Yes, tell her."

Hestophes raised his eyebrows. "But Your Majesty, if I'm in Hos-Agrys, who will lead the attack upon Greffa?"

"Good question, my husband. Phrames is busy consolidating his new Princedom and will not be able to vacate his throne. Who do you have in mind?"

"Me. I'm going to lead our forces straight to the Gates of Greffa. Let Theovacar put that in his pipe and smoke it."