The Fireseed Wars

II

Kalvan was spending the evening with the family. Rylla, obviously pregnant now, was sitting in a rocking chair and knitting, while little Demia was running back and forth between the two of them, giggling and playing peek-a-boo. He was enjoying the domesticity because he knew that soon he would be dealing with life-and-death matters and that there would be no escape for the next five to six months.

"Would you like some more sassafras tea, darling?" Rylla asked.

"No, I'm fine." He paused to clean out his pipe. "I want to run over the plans for the tile stove I've been working on." The Middle Ages' stove, like the Zarthani and Urgothi models, was a disastrous affair which sent more heat up the chimney than into the room, much like a fireplace. In Hostigos with its relatively mild winters-certainly when compared to Michigan!-heating hadn't been a top priority. This winter no one in Nos-Hostigos had starved to death, but a few score of his subjects had died from the cold.

His plans were based on his aunt and uncle's Austrian stove, an Alpine invention widely celebrated in the Middle Ages. Theirs had been decorated with glazed tiles, but he hadn't forgotten the warm heat it radiated on those freezing mornings.

Kalvan had seen the stoves still in use all over Germany during his tour there. The stove was a closed ceramic box which worked as a storage heater due to the great mass of masonry inside, which once heated radiated heat for up to twelve hours or more. Almost like stones in a sauna, it put out heat long after the fire was out. It was also a working stove with a small oven to bake potatoes and even bread.

"I'm going to take Demia to her chamber," Rylla said.

He gave his little girl a smooch and she giggled. "Night, Dada."

"Good night, Princess."

Kalvan lit his pipe and his mind switched from the stove to the coming spring campaigns. He was more worried than he let on, because next to his role, Chartiphon had the most important part to play in the upcoming campaign. He only hoped that Rylla was correct in her assessment that her "Uncle" was again the same man he had been when Kalvan had arrived in Hostigos.

Rylla came back after a sixteenth of a candle, or between seven and eight minutes as he reckoned, and went back to her knitting.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

He laughed. "The upcoming campaign. If it's possible, I want to knock the Styphoni into the next moon! Barring that, I'll starve out the godless infidels."

She nodded. "Fighting over food is a strange way to wage war, but it makes sense, as you've said so many times: 'an army marches on its stomach-'"

A knock at the door interrupted her words.

"Come in," Kalvan said.

Cleon stuck his head in the door, and suddenly, like the sun rising over the horizon, his usually dour face broke out with a big grin. "An old friend is here to see Your Majesties."

Kalvan shrugged at Rylla's raised eyebrows.

Both rose to their feet in surprise when General Verkan came limping into the room.

"Verkan!" cried Kalvan. "What are you doing here? Are you all right? I thought you were-"

Rylla dropped her knitting and ran over to embrace Verkan. "How are your

Verkan groaned and she pulled back. "I've been better."

"Praise Dralm and Galzar, you've risen from the dead!" Kalvan went over to clasp his friend's hand. "I'd finally accepted that we'd never see you alive again, and now here you are! How did you escape?"

Rylla interjected, "Give the man a seat, Kalvan. He looks as if he's been on horseback or beaten with hammers all day."

"Sure, sure. Take this chair here."

Verkan slowly and carefully eased himself into the high-backed chair, sighing in relief as he sat down.

"What happened?" Kalvan asked unable to contain himself.

"Let the man have some refreshments first, Kalvan! Where are your manners? Verkan, what would you like to drink?"

"I'll have some of Ermut's Best, if you don't mind. Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Of course," Rylla answered. "No need for titles in this chamber, Verkan. Cleon!"

"I'm on my way, Your Majesty."

While they waited, Verkan began. "It's a long story. You remember I took the Mounted Rifles out to find the enemy. Well, we found them. By Galzar, we did! After our detachment was attacked by the forward wing of the Grand Host, we settled down on a ridge top and pinned them down for about half a day. At first, it was like target practice for the Mounted Rifles, but more and more of the damn Styphoni showed up until we were badly outnumbered. Ten to one, maybe more. We pushed them back half-a-dozen times, but finally they overran our position."

"That's the story we heard," Kalvan said.

Cleon returned with a small keg of Ermut's Best and filled a goblet for Verkan, while Kalvan put a hand over his cup.

"My husband and I will have some tea," Rylla said.

Cleon bowed and left to brew some sassafras tea.

Verkan took a deep drink and sighed. "By Wodan, I've missed this! Anyway, the Harphaxi overran our position and in the hand-to-hand combat that ensued I was shot point-blank in the chest." He paused to lift up his loose tunic and showed them a scarlet keloid scar about the size of a small plate.

"Wow!" Kalvan said, while Rylla turned white. Understandably, he thought, she was probably afraid that his own luck would run out and one of these days he'd come home in a shroud or with a similar wound. Maybe one he wouldn't survive.

"General, you're one tough son-of-a-bitch to have survived that hit!" Especially, with the quackery here-and-now that qualifies as healing!

Verkan nodded solemnly. "You're right. It was Lystris' Own Luck that I'm still alive, Praise Galzar and Dralm! I must have been lying there all night; I don't know how much blood I lost. I included Dralm because it was a peasant, busy looting the dead, who discovered me. Instead of using my own blade to cut my throat, he brought me to his hut. It appears my reputation had preceded me and he was a loyalist. Janos recognized me from one of your visits to Sashta. He and his wife hid me in their root cellar and tended to my wounds. I was unconscious for the first moon half. After I returned to consciousness, I hid out in their hut while my body recovered.

"They had to move me four or five times to keep us safe from roving bands of soldiers, bandits and Investigators. Fortunately, the skirmishing and fighting in western Sashta had cleared out most of the people and all of the loot in the area. Pickings were slim for all but the most desperate of bandits and looters. Your Majesties, you wouldn't recognize Hos-Hostigos today; it's a wasteland as far as the eye can see. The towns and villages are in ruins, the forests and trees burned and the fields barren and dead. You can travel an entire day and see only one or two people."

Rylla's eyes welled up. She brushed at them with the sleeve of her gown.

Well that settles it, thought Kalvan. We won't be going back to Hostigos for a long time. Of course, that's not how Rylla will see it. I'll have to keep coming up with excuses until it doesn't matter anymore.

"So how did you escape?" he asked.

"I was on my back for three or four moons. I know we were on thin rations for a long time. I didn't dare leave until I could walk again and moons of bed rest left me weak as a pup. Things in Sashta got a little better after the new prince, Prince Phidestros, arrived. He parceled out a lot of land to his veterans and provided relief for those without homes or food. I never thought I'd say good things about that Dralm-damned tool of Styphons House, but the Prince does care for his subjects and he prevented Roxthar's Investigators from continuing their Investigation in Sashta and Beshta. For that alone he deserves a place in Galzar's Hall. No one else has had the stones to thwart that madman! And that includes the twice-cursed Inner Circle and their new Styphon's Own Voice.

"Janos' harvest was poor and I didn't want to deprive his family of food. So I left as soon as I could walk-sometime in early fall. I traded Janos my good poignard, with the gold and silver inlay, and he gave me enough powder for my pistol. I traveled mostly at night and hid myself away during the day. Even though Phidestros was hanging bandits left and right there were still a lot of deserters and starving peasants driven to madness by war, murdered families and deprivation.

"It took me almost a moon, but I made my way south to Xanx where I passed myself off as a wounded Harphaxi mercenary. Luckily, I had a few coins secreted away in my boot heels and I was able to find lodgings for the winter in a small border town named Gela Town. My boots probably would have been confiscated by Janos but his feet were too large; I know I saw him eying them. Those gold coins probably saved my life, or kept me from turning into an outlaw. In Hos-Ktemnos, I saw other soldiers, deserters and battlefield casualties, who turned to banditry to get through the winter.

"Archpriest Cimon, the one they call the Peasant Priest, tried to help by setting-up food depots for veterans, and, with my coins, the free rations helped me get through the winter. There wasn't enough to go around and a lot of good men were less fortunate. But I was able to keep my lodgings and scrounge up enough food to survive. I traded my last coins for a swaybacked farm horse and some provisions. Then I hired on as a guard for a small trading band and made my way through Hos-Ktemnos and into the Sastragath. There I left the merchant camp and followed the Mother River down to Wulfula where Dalla and I had a wonderful reunion. She left Greffa when King Theovacar spies followed her and arrested several of our partners."

"Why didn't you bring her with you?"

"Too dangerous, Rylla. Besides, she's too busy running the business and trying to salvage as much as she could of our losses. She knows I'll be back as soon as I can."

Rylla just shook her head. "You're as bad as Kalvan. If it wasn't for Demia, I would see him one night a moon quarter!"

Verkan grimaced, as if her words were too near the truth. "At Wulfula Town, I joined up with a big trading caravan on its way up to Rathon. They told me that Great King Nestros was dead and that Rathon was now part of Hostigos! Or Nos-Hostigos as it's now called. You can't imagine my surprise, when I ran into some old comrades at the border and they escorted me into Rathon City where I was presented to King Chartiphon, who was most gracious and anxious for news concerning Old Hostigos. The King gave me new clothes, more gold than I could carry and way more drink than I needed! After a few days' rest and time to recover from my hangover, I was given a good steed, an armed escort and brought here to Thagnor City. And that's the short version."

"Whew! That's Styphon's Own Lot of a story, my friend. You are a very lucky man." Kalvan guessed that the "long" version covered a lot more privation and suffering than Verkan would ever admit out loud. He felt privileged to have men like Verkan under his command.

Verkan gave a wry smile, then nodded.

Kalvan said, "Since you just arrived, you probably don't know that Trader Kostran and your friend Tortha are both in the City."

Verkan shook his head. "Good news. I was worried they'd have trouble getting out of Greffa alive. Theovacar is well-known for pushing a grudge into murder if he's thwarted. It'll take a lot of work to replace the factories and property we lost in Greffa."

"Don't worry about that, Verkan. You'll be well taken care of."

Rylla punctuated that with a "By Dralm's Star!"