Down Styphon!, page 12
part #8 of Kalvan Series
“Yes, and more. We can provide all the fireseed you need. However, we cannot spare any troops.”
“I know many people in Eubros who would love to be able to take up arms against the tyrannical Prince Valdros. His father was a baron whose greatest accomplishment was to place his barony in hock to Styphon’s House. Valdros has imprisoned or killed many worshippers of Dralm as well as those who supported my father, their legitimate Prince. There are other men, many former nobles before the war ended, who would love to redress old wounds. I could gather many of such men around my banner. I also know of important men in other princedoms who grow weary of Styphon’s yoke upon their necks. Even more soldiers could be recruited if it became known that Your Majesty was behind the rebellion.”
“Use my name freely, if it will aid your revolt. I suspect that if you’re successful in defeating Valdros and his Styphoni-bought army, rebellion will spread to other princedoms that were formerly aligned with the League of Dralm.”
“Oh, yes, Your Majesty!” Mnestros said excitedly. “Once you have brought down Grand Master Soton, word will spread like wildfire throughout the Five Kingdoms. This will give men throughout the realm the courage to throw off their chains.”
“I’d like for you to leave for Thagnor at daybreak. I’ll have a letter delivered before you leave, so that you will be able to obtain the arms, ships and other items you’ll need for this insurgency from Prince Phrames. You’ll need to set up a shipping depot where Prince Phrames can send you arms, fireseed and foodstuffs. I can give you everything but feet on the ground; that you will have to do yourself.”
“That I can do, Your Majesty!” the Prince cried. He was standing straighter as if the weight on his back had been jettisoned. “You have my word. We will throw out the Styphoni scum and end their reign forever!”
FOURTEEN
The Great King's manservant led the two Hostigi delegates into Great King Phidestros’ private audience chamber where he sat on a high-backed chair with his wife to his right.
“Your Majesties, I would like to present Duke Hestophes, an emissary from the court of Great King Kalvan of Nos-Hostigos, and Uncle Wolf Tharses.”
“Please sit down,” Great King Phidestros said.
As the Hostigi sat down, his manservant came forward with a plate of maple sugar candies, those being a famous delicacy of Hos-Zygros. After both Hestophes and Tharses took one, the servant put the plate down on a small table beside the two Hostigi.
Although he knew his manservant would love nothing more than to stick around and hear the proceedings, Phidestros dismissed him with a flick of his hand. This promised to be a very interesting conversation and certainly not one for public consumption; there would be rumors, of course, but only those inside this chamber would know the truth of these proceedings.
Uncle Wolf Tharses looked every inch the ex-soldier he had been; his hair and long beard were gray, his face lumpy and he walked with a limp. But the priest’s steely blue eyes had no problem matching Phidestros’ stare and Phidestros suspected there were a number of good reasons he was among Kalvan’s inner circle of advisors. Duke Hestophes was even more impressive; he had the build of a blacksmith and brown eyes that were both deep and penetrating. From what Phidestros had learned about the Duke, he was a gifted leader and had an exceptional grasp of tactics and strategy. Hestophes was also one of Kalvan’s paladins and most trusted advisors. Last year, he had acted as his king’s stalking-horse during Styphon’s Houses invasion of Hos-Agrys and acquitted himself well. Had Hestophes been given sufficient troops, he would have bet the outcome in that kingdom would have taken a completely different turn.
Duke Hestophes bowed, saying, “It is a pleasure, at long last, to meet Your Majesties. I have been acquainted with the Great King's prowess on the field of battle, and I suspect he will be no easier to defeat in the drawing room.”
That brought a smile from the Great Queen Arminta’s lips.
“Rather than continue in this manner, like a courtier, I will plain-speak since that is what I am best at.”
Phidestros nodded, as he too preferred plain-speaking. He was tired to death of silver-tongued lackeys with slippery eyes. He had replaced as many courtiers as he could with his own trusted captains, although far fewer and slower than he would have liked at his wife’s advice. With so many changes at head of state, the kingdom needed some stability and peace even at the expense of tolerating the fools and charlatans among its nobility. Most of the traitors and Styphon’s House’s bum boys had already been weeded out of his garden of state.
“I have been sent by His Royal Majesty Great King Kalvan to negotiate an alliance between our two kingdoms. A pact of friendship and support between Hostigos and Hos-Zygros.”
Phidestros noted that Hestophes did not identify which Hostigos, Nos-Hostigos or the abandoned Hos-Hostigos, he was referring to. He raised his eyebrows. “I can see where such an alliance might be of value to Great King Kalvan, but I’m not sure of what advantage it would provide to Our Kingdom.”
“As I understand, Your Majesty, you have recently presented Styphon’s House with an offering that greatly displeased the Innermost Circle. Therefore, it might behoove you to join forces with Great King Kalvan who is mounting a campaign against them as we speak.”
This was news, but not unexpected since word of events in the south traveled slowly northwards. It could be a serious problem if Kalvan was moving his army through the disputed lands of Hos-Hostigos that were now claimed by Great King Geblon. “Where is your King’s army headed?” he said, his voice growing heated.
“Right now,” Hestophes answered with an even tone, “the Hostigi Army is fighting in the Upper Sastragath. My King has set out to besiege the Zarthani Knight’s main fortress of Tarr-Ceros.”
“Hmm,” Phidestros muttered. Neutral territory, that was good. “That fortress will be a tough nut to crack.”
“Not with the artillery the Royal Army has arrayed against it, Your Majesty.”
“What are your Great King’s plans once it has been taken?”
“Once Tarr-Ceros has fallen, my ruler will besiege each and every Order southern fortress to the end of the Mother River until they are all conquered. He will then winter in the Sastragath; in the spring, Great King Kalvan will gather his forces to prepare for the siege of Balph.”
Kalvan is ambitious, Phidestros thought. “It appears that your Great King has matters well in hand, why then does he seek our help?”
Duke Hestophes nodded as if this were a fair question. “As you know, Balph is not only the heart of Styphon’s House, but a depository of much of its wealth. Whoever takes Balph, will also gain millions of ounces of gold, silver—to say nothing of its other wealth, artworks, jewels, military supplies and so forth. If you join Great King Kalvan in this attack upon this heinous and blasphemous nest of traitors, he will give you equal shares of all of this bountiful booty. After all, Styphon is a false god and thus has no rights.”
Phidestros paused to stroke his beard in thought. He looked over at his wife and she nodded, as though this proposition was worth further thought. “I agree with your latter statement. But just exactly what does Kalvan want in return for this great bounty?”
“That you intercede on his behalf with your good friend and fellow ruler, Great King Geblon, on his behalf.”
“Ah, but first there is another matter that must be clarified. What about my own demesne of Great Beshta? Wasn’t that once a part of Hos-Hostigos?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. However, Great King Kalvan, considering your current tenancy, as well as your value as friend and neighbor, will cede all claims to those lands to your house for now and in the future. Prince Phrames of Gytha, the most recent Prince of Beshta, agrees to these terms; as for former Prince Balthames of Beshta, he now occupies an unmarked grave and is in no position to complain.”
Phidestros had to smile at that. He had wondered what had happened to the infamous Balthames; death, as he knew, solved most problems. “It is an interesting offer, but I hesitate to say generous, since I occupy that territory at present.”
“Of course, sire, but my Great King wanted you to understand that whatever the future brings he will not dispute ownership or possession of your princedom.”
That was smart of Kalvan, Phidestros decided. He had just taken a big bone of contention off the negotiating table. Now, all that was left was whether or not he would sell out his former subordinates’ rights to the rest of Hos-Hostigos, his rightful territory, but an area no one appeared to be making use of. “And in return?”
“He would like your help in convincing Great King Geblon to relinquish his hold on territory that was once my Great King’s demesne, other than your princedom, of course. At the moment, the land is worthless— war-torn, depleted, abandoned, of no value to anyone. My Great King is even prepared to make him a generous monetary settlement, if that will ease the transfer of possession.”
All in all, Kalvan’s requests seemed very reasonable. Were it not that Geblon was one of his best friends and paladins, he would have had no trouble agreeing. The time for this audience had come to an end; he needed to talk with Arminta and get her more neutral advice on this matter. There was a lot to gain; he was almost salivating over getting his hands on the fabled treasures of Balph....
“Finally, Your Majesty,” Hestophes continued, after pausing to light his pipe, “even should you decide not to join in the sack of Balph, my Great King is prepared to give you one third of the proceeds if you can settle this property dispute with Great King Geblon.”
That was more than generous. And, of course, a great savings in blood for Kalvan should he decide to go along with this proposition.
“Furthermore, should you agree, but not want to besiege Balph with Great King Kalvan, you can send one of your most trusted captains to see that the treasure is divided equally and fairly.”
“What’s in it for Great King Geblon?” Phidestros asked.
“He’ll pay in gold for Geblon to drop his claim to Hos-Hostigos.”
“How much?”
Hestophes shrugged. “The Great King mentioned to me a hundred thousand ounces of gold per princedom: Hostigos, Nostor, Sask, Nyklos, Ulthor and Kyblos. A handsome price for worthless land, in my estimation.”
Over half a million ounces of gold! Phidestros thought. Most generous. “Thank you, Duke. You have given us much to mull over.”
Both of the Hostigi bowed and left the room. When the chamber door had closed, he turned to his wife. “What do you think of Kalvan’s offer, my love?”
“On the surface, it is extremely generous. On one hand, Kalvan wants to enlist you and our army in the invasion of Hos-Ktemnos, since Great King Lukthos will not idly sit by while Balph is sacked and the great treasures of Styphon’s House are looted. With both armies, the outcome of that war is assured and at a smaller cost in casualties than if Kalvan invaded on his own. Plus, it would cement your alliance and put a wedge between you and Great King Geblon. His other offer of a third of the booty, should you decline to aid his siege, is even more generous; although, again it might pit you against your friend.”
“So it all boils down to whether or not I want to sell out my old comrade?”
“Not quite, my dear. Geblon is only Great King of Hos-Harphax because you stepped away from the Iron Throne; he owes his throne to you and our army. He had no army of his own; it was your might and intercession that gave him his throne. Although, I doubt—knowing human nature—that he sees it that way. Still, were it not for Queen Lavena, you could easily talk him into abandoning his claims on Hos-Hostigos for Kalvan’s price—which is more than fair, I might add.”
“Aha,” Phidestros said. “Now comes the sticking point.”
“Yes,” she smiled. “On the other hand, Great Queen Lavena is a spoiled child and will not look kindly on her husband giving away lands she believes are rightfully hers as the Great Queen of Hos-Harphax; even though her title was bought with her former husband’s brother’s blood.”
“It is true,” he said. “Great King Lysandros had his own brother murdered so he could claim the Iron Throne. He and Lavena were a good match. It’s unfortunate that she outlived him.”
“I know you suggested poisoning her, my husband.”
“Yes, I did. But you talked me out of it because she was with child. Your kind heart is one of the reasons I love you.”
Queen Arminta blushed.
“Didn’t you tell me, love, that Duke Hestophes was once one of Lavena’s swains back in Hostigos?”
“Yes,” she said, “I learned a lot about Queen Lavena—much more than I ever wanted—during my stay in Tarr-Harphax. She and Duke Hestophes were a couple until her father broke them apart when he learned that Hestophes’ father was a publican.”
“Wasn’t he a baron at that time?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Hestophes was rewarded by Great King Kalvan with a small barony near Hyllos town; they were neighbors. Queen Lavena cast her spell over Hestophes, too. She told me proudly that he was quite heartbroken by their split. Lavena now views their association as a youthful indiscretion.”
“I’m sure Duke Hestophes would not find that amusing, although it is said that he is married now. Is it true that Lavena is the spitting image of Great Queen Rylla?”
“Yes, but for their hair color, they could pass for twins. This I was told by one of her maidservants who has been with her for many winters. Lavena will not talk about it; she flies into a rage at the mere mention of Rylla’s name.”
“It sounds as if she is jealous,” Phidestros said. “I understand Queen Rylla is not only comely, but a warrior of renown and a leader as well.”
“Yes, that is what I’ve heard. However, the two women are complete opposites. Where Rylla is generous and loving, Lavena is avaricious and mean-spirited. She dotes on her father, Prince Sthentros, who now claims suzerainty over the Princedom of Hostigos and will not relinquish that claim except upon pain of death.”
“Which he richly deserves,” Phidestros added. He had only met the arrogant Sthentros a few times, but that was enough for a roomful of hatred. The man was a traitor and a fool; if it weren’t for his daughter, he would be begging in the streets of Harphax City. “Queen Lavena is as pigheaded as a wineshop trollop. Unfortunately, she has cast some love spell upon Geblon and he worships the ground she walks upon.”
“Yes, I fear Geblon is thoroughly browbeaten,” Arminta said, shaking her head. “Lavena leads him around by the beak like a broken-winged goose.”
“This means he will not be amenable to our alliance with Hostigos, which on the surface is quite generous,” Phidestros replied.
“Yes, Kalvan was wise to be so magnanimous. It has given us a big problem, my husband. I believe Kalvan’s offer is more than fair. You have a major decision to make.”
Phidestros felt his head throb; he was beginning to suffer the kind of headache usually brought on by too many bottles of mulled wine. He knew his wife admired Kalvan and his administration of Hostigos. She often suggested that he should model his own rule after Kalvan’s. “I take it, you think we should accept Kalvan’s offer of friendship and alliance.”
“Yes, I do, my love. Kalvan is many things, but one thing he is above all—is honest. If he makes a promise, he will keep it. And, as you know, I’ve approved of most of the innovations that he introduced in Hos-Hostigos. The two of you are the great captains of this era and it behooves us both that you work together. However, Geblon is your good friend, and the final decision is up to you as Great King.”
“Thank you,” he said, his head already pounding. “You’ve just made my decision twice as difficult! What I need to do next is talk with Duke Kyblannos and hear what he has to say.”
* * *
FIFTEEN
I
Kalvan was fast asleep on their corn-shuck mattress when the pounding at the door woke him and Rylla up. “What is it?” he called out. “The Knights are breaking out of Tarr-Ceros!” someone hollered.
Kalvan rose up and used his tinderbox to set a splinter on fire, which gave him enough visibility to light a nearby candle. Cleon rushed into the room with another candle. In the flickering light, his manservant quickly found his breeches and helped Kalvan on with them. While Cleon was helping him put on his black leather jackboots, he heard Rylla struggling to get out of bed. “Darling, you stay here! Nothing short of a miracle could get them out of Tarr-Ceros alive. And I have a feeling Styphon’s just about run out of those.”
Rylla yawned. “Yes, husband. I’m too tired to argue...”
That was a blessing from Dralm, he decided, as Cleon tied up his arming doublet with mail sleeves and skirt. Next he put on his quilted helmet-coif followed by his throat-guard, plate cuirass and plate tassets down to his thighs. Lastly, Kalvan put on his morion helmet, then slipped his rapier and poignard into their scabbards. He wore practically the same outfit he had worn since taking command of the Hostigos Army: none of his armor was gilded or ornamented; that was how good commanders died. He wished he could convince Prince Sarrask, who still wore more silver plate than a dinner-service, of that.
Outside in the dark, illuminated by red bonfires, stood Colonel Leukestros with half a dozen armored men. “Your Majesty, the Knights are attempting a sortie. We thought you’d want to be there to see our response.”
“Of course, man!” Kalvan cried. “Lets get a move on!”
He could hear musket and rifle fire in the distance in between salvos of cannon fire. A salvo went off roughly every thirty seconds from one of the dozen batteries around Wall-4. Already some of the bigger mortars were firing shells onto the roof of Tarr-Ceros adding to the cacophony. It must be sheer Hell in there, he decided. No wonder some of the godforsaken bastards are trying to break out.
The ground had been trodden by the troops, horses and big guns into a flat landscape devoid of plant or native animal life. Even at a fast pace, it took them almost five minutes to reach the first break out. The ground was littered with dead Knights in full armor splayed around the sally port. Some of the survivors were still firing muskets behind big shields and piles of their own dead. The crack of mass rifle fire sounded as the Hostigi First Royal Musketeers fired another volley.
