The Fireseed Wars

II

Prince Phidestros was sitting before his worktable in Tarr-Dodra, frowning in concentration. This latest dispatch from Great King Lysandros didn't portend well for himself; he resented being given a job that was not only messy, but might drag behind it a cartload of other problems. He knew things would only get worse when Lysandros returned to Harphax City, which appeared to be sooner rather than later if the King's latest letter truly reflected the unfolding of events in the Upper Middle Kingdoms.

"What is bothering you, my husband?" Arminta asked.

Phidestros sighed. "Lysandros has given me guarded orders to murder his nephew, Prince Selestros. Why can't he leave the boy to wallow in his own filth until he drowns?"

"Exactly what does he say?"

He brought the parchment up close. '"I would consider it a personal favor should my late brother's remaining kin be removed from all future worldly harm and be free to visit his father before my return in the Moon of the Great Harvest.'"

"Your reading is much improved, my husband."

Phidestros bowed his head. "Thanks to your wifely instruction. Did I read his words correctly?"

She took the parchment, reading it quickly. "Yes, I fear that it reads like one of my cousin's thinly disguised orders that he believes to be clever. It is also one which we should ponder closely before undertaking."

"What do you mean?"

"I know that the Harphax City gossip bores you witless, however, it does reveal some important events and portends others. For one, in Lysandros' absence, the people have been growing displeased about rumors in regards to the manner in which their former King Kaiphranos, my older cousin, perished. In the streets and alleys they are calling Lysandros the Regicide. The commoners have also begun to wonder if the deal Lysandros brokered with young Selestros was fair and done in good faith."

"You mean the deal whereby former Prince Selestros gave up all claims upon the Iron Throne in exchange for his life?"

Arminta laughed. "That is putting it baldly, my husband! But, in essence, yes. This has been further complicated by my cousin's sudden conversion to Allfather Dralm."

"What? This is the first I've heard of it. Does the lad desire a knife in the back? I'm surprised Archpriest Phyllos hasn't had him killed. And what kind of conversion could the King of Guttersnipes have undergone?

Certainly not one of greater wisdom, or he would have picked Styphon for conversion, not Dralm!"

"In a letter, my sister wrote that Selestros claims he was riding his horse outside of Harphax City when Allfather Dralm, riding a golden chariot with four white horses, appeared before him as a shining blue image and reproached him for all his sins."

Phidestros shook his head in wonder. "Selestros must have been drowning in his cups! If it was a visit from Dralm, he has surely sent the lad to his death."

"Apparently, from all witnesses, he has been born anew. They say Selestros has given up his wanton ways and now spends his days before the altar of Dralm in the High Temple of Harphax. It is also said that he now studies the ancient texts and makes penance for his wayward youth."

"It's enough to make a believer in the gods out of a cynic such as myself! Who would have ever believed that young gallowsbird would be reformed?"

"You see now, my husband, why Lysandros' charge might be rife with danger, one that might rebound upon your own reputation? I suggest you ignore this order, maybe have the messenger who now sits in our kitchen be held prisoner in Tarr-Dodra's dungeon. Then we can tell Lysandros that his message never reached our ears."

Phidestros nodded. "Good advice, darling. I'll have Kyblannos tend to the matter. It would not be wise to keep him here or admit he ever arrived. It's a long treacherous road from Harphax City to Tarr-Dodra with many things along the way to delay or interrupt a King's messenger. It might be best if he disappeared-footpads or bandits?"

Arminta shuddered. "It's unfortunate, but it's preferable to spilling my cousin's blood."

"Nor, do we want to give Lysandros reason to censure us."

"Yes, my husband. I do not believe that he will return from the Middle Kingdoms as the victor he anticipates, which will cause him great distress. Somehow he shall connive to blame you for his losses. I know how his mind works; he's been like this as long as I've known him. Lysandros has never been known to see any faults in his own reflecting plates."

"I'm not worried about his army, I just don't want to be sparring with Lysandros while the Five Kingdoms are convulsed with change."

Princess Arminta nodded. "What does Lysandros have to tell us about the war against the Usurper Kalvan?"

"According to the King, the Grand Host is about to leave for Thagnor City where the Usurper Kalvan is holed up like a wounded beast. More a mole than a bear is how our Great King characterizes him. He has enlisted King Theovacar's aid and army and expects to have Kalvan and Rylla's heads in his possession before the end of summer."

"How do you see this boast, my husband?"

"Runes written on the fog, my darling. The King, never having fought Kalvan in the field, greatly underestimates his foe. We shall not see him this year, nor possibly the next."

"If we're lucky," Arminta laughed, "maybe never again!"

"That may be too great of a boon to ask of Galzar Wolfhead, but it would surely be a welcome one."