Down Styphon!, page 29
part #8 of Kalvan Series
Her face blanched.
“Well, these Harphaxi whey-faced varlets haven’t forgotten!” Sarrask exclaimed, banging the pommel of his saddle for emphasis. “These fools believe they are doing your will. With Lavena and her daughter dead, there will be no chance that in years to come a pretender to the Iron Throne will arise, claiming to be the husband of Princess Sirna, the rightful claimant by birth. And, as you know, there is some truth to their fears.”
Rylla released his arm, then nodded.
“They believe they have done you a great honor, Your Majesty. Now, it is up to you to accept their offerings with the same grace in which they are presented.”
She smiled through gritted teeth.
“Now, which one of these knaves do you plan to make the next Great King of Hos-Harphax?” he asked.
“None of them. How about you, Sarrask?”
His face turned ashen, then he shook his head mightily. “No, no, no.... Stab me, Your Majesty! Its a thankless job. I prefer to be a big turtle in a small lagoon. I’ve seen all the headaches running the great kingdoms of Hostigos have given you and Great King Kalvan. Such is not for me!”
“That’s why you’d be the best man for the job,” Rylla replied, her eyes twinkling. “Great King Sarrask has a nice ring to it.”
“Not to these ears!” he cried out.
“I’m sorry, but there are not a lot of choices. Prince Soligon of Argros and Prince Valthames of Xanx are dead. The only surviving prince from the League of Dralm, is the man who succeeded Valthames, Prince Davtor. And one has to wonder how he kept his position after Lysandros’ enthronement, then during Geblon’s reign.”
“Better him than me. I’m not known to the Harphaxi and there will be problems if I ascend to the Iron Throne, Your Majesty.”
“There will not be a problem, Sarrask. I promise. I plan to remove all the Styphoni princes and replace them with our own men. It will be a wholesale housecleaning, as Kalvan would put it, of the entire Kingdom of Hos-Harphax. Anyone who has a problem with your ascension will have to answer to me personally!”
“How about Duke Hestophes? Your Majesty—a wonderful choice for great king! Or Prince Phrames. Or maybe King Chartiphon. Duke Skranga? Anyone but me?
IV
It was early morning, but shots still rang out in the streets of Agrys City. Prince Mnestros had done as promised, launching an attack on the city the night before, drawing the garrison troops to the city walls. Then the rebels had struck from behind, killing many of the Styphoni even before they knew what was happening. Baron Balthron had been true to his word, using his men to clear the palace of Prince-Regent Grythos’ guardsmen and Styphoni priests.
The Styphoni had not died easily, and the presence chamber still stank of death and voided bowels.
Lady Tymolara ordered Prince Dementros to seat himself upon the Throne.
“But why?” Dementros asked.
“Because we need to establish precedent. While you are still too young to be enthroned, such rules are often ignored or changed in times of great upheaval. With Archpriest Grythos in Balph and his allies and representatives in Agrys City all dead, there is no one to challenge your claim to the Throne of Lights.”
“But I’m not really Dementros,” he put forth. “I’m Aspasthar, a citizen and noble of Hos-Hostigos, and the son of Harmakros the Great.”
She whispered, “Keep your voice down! You are all of that, Aspasthar— and more. Your Great King has given you the opportunity to raise yourself far above your station, while aiding him in creating a better and more peaceful world.”
“But that means I won’t be able to return to my friends and homeland—”
“True,” she interrupted. “But is that so terrible? Here you will be able to rule an entire kingdom and you can bring any of your Hostigi friends that want to join you here.”
The boy brightened up.
Several soldiers came in and began dragging the Styphoni dead out of the presence chamber by their boot heels, while servants and maids began to clean the walls and floors. In another couple of hours, no one would know that two score of men died violently in this chamber.
She turned to the door, when Baron Balthron entered the chamber followed by a small retinue of soldiers. Their boots clomped loudly as they approached the Throne of Lights.
This was the critical moment, she realized. If the Baron accepted Dementros’ enthronement, then there would be little opposition. On the other hand, he could easily—by virtue of being in command of the rebel soldiers—take the seat for himself.
She did not know the Baron well, nor how he had survived during the Styphoni occupation. He was a big man with a rough-hewn face that displayed little of what went on behind his skull.
Balthron looked her in the eyes, then turned to the throne. “So, I see you’ve made your choice.”
Lady Tymolara pointed to the still blood-splattered floor and said, “Your Lordship, I believe that we need to coronate our new great king as quickly as possible. Otherwise, a succession struggle will only enable the Styphoni opposition, which would leave us weak and indecisive should the Hostigi be defeated in Hos-Ktemnos.”
“Yes, My Lady, that makes sense. We need to be united in the face of the former Prince-Regent’s return. However, I had thought you might have wanted the position of Prince-Regent for yourself.”
She shook her head. “Lord Balthron, I know my bloodline and my limitations. I’m a good governess, but I know little about governing.”
The Baron guffawed. “I doubt that, Your Ladyship, having seen you at work. However, I believe you are correct. Hos-Agrys needs to be united against the Styphoni so that we can throw off their shackles once and for all. Prince Mnestros might be a better choice for great king, but he has his work cut out for him liberating the rest of Hos-Agrys. It would be a disservice to the Kingdom to distract him from his work.”
“Then we should do the official enthronement as soon as possible,” she replied. “Did any of the upperpriests of Dralm survive the culling?”
The Baron nodded. “Several of them have been in hiding. I will bring the ranking priest to the palace tomorrow morning for the official enthronement. It will also give the people something else to celebrate, as well as help take their minds off the losses we have suffered today and during the Styphoni occupation.”
V
Great King Phidestros entered his bedchamber with a scowl on his face. Queen Arminta sat up in bed, fluffed her goose down pillows, asking, “What’s the matter, my love?”
Phidestros put down the oil lamp he’d been holding. “I just received word from Harphax that Queen Rylla and a Hostigi Army are at the outskirts of Harphax City. With most of the Harphaxi Army in Balph, this could cost Geblon the Iron Throne.”
Arminta sighed. “A throne he should never have been seated upon in the first place. While Geblon is an old comrade, he is no more qualified to be great king than a butcher. Just because a soldier knows how to wield a sword doesn’t mean he knows how to carve a carcass of beef. Look at how Geblon has misruled Hos-Harphax, letting that she-devil Lavena run roughshod over the kingdom. It’s a wonder that their subjects haven’t revolted in protest against their high taxes and capricious enforcement of laws.”
Phidestros knocked on his head repeatedly with his knuckles. “I know, I know! I didn’t think his appointment through, nor did I confer with you about it. My mistake. The last thing I expected was Geblon to become lovesick over that she-wolf Lavena.”
“Well, it’s going to cost him his throne. That is, if he returns from Balph alive.”
He nodded. “It’s still too early for news about the siege, but I would put my wager on Great King Kalvan.”
“You already have, my dear,” Arminta replied with a smile. “And we stand to earn a good return on our investment.”
He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. “I still don’t feel good about not backing my old comrade.”
“Let’s not go there, my love. It was Geblon who snubbed you when he kept our envoy and his old friend Kyblannos waiting in Harphax City for three moons for a simple audience. And we know who was behind that stall. No, it is your old comrade, the man you elevated, who let us down. Nor did you encourage him to take his army to Balph in support of our enemy!”
“That is true,” Phidestros said, as he picked up his pipe. “He had to have known that I would never support such a move. Not after the Styphoni curs kidnapped you, my love. Geblon must be truly addled to have made such a foolhardy mistake.”
“No, he’s just a man who doesn’t know how to swim, who suddenly found himself drowning in a deep well. Any news from Hos-Agrys?”
Phidestros paused to light his pipe, before speaking: “Prince Mnestros continues to make progress against the Styphoni forces in Kryphlon. At last report, Mnestros and his men were on the outskirts of Kryphlon City. Prince Atron is untested in war and will not hold his capital for long. There is also unrest in Agrys City since Prince-Regent Grythos left the city for Balph. It wouldn’t take much to upset the entire Styphoni applecart.”
Arminta smiled. “Yes, I know, you long for some action. This is the first war where you have had to sit on the sidelines and miss all the fighting. But you have nothing to prove, my love. Along with Kalvan and Grand Master Soton, you are held throughout the Five Kingdoms to be one of the three greatest commanders of this age. No one can deny that, and Styphon’s House would give you all their golden temples to win your support. Great King Kalvan went to great lengths to win your favor and it was a wise decision. Nor will he forget you when peace comes, as it inevitably will do.”
Phidestros began chuffing his pipe, throwing out smoke rings. Then he pulled out the pipe stem, saying, “I’m a man of action. It’s no fun waiting idly by when so many opportunities are within ones grasp.”
Arminta giggled. “You’re like a big kid! We don’t need any more 'opportunities,’ my love. We have enough on our plate ruling Hos-Zygros. Sure we could go south and add the Agrysi princedoms of Orchon and Meligos to the kingdom with minimal losses, but we’re still busy swallowing the Princedom of Kelos. There isn’t enough gold in either princedom to pay for the headaches that incorporating them into Hos-Zygros would cost us.”
Phidestros put down his pipe and dropped his head. “As usual, you are right, my love.” He grabbed the bell pull. “I’m going to request a flask of Ermut’s Best. Would you like some, too?”
“Yes,” she replied playfully.
THIRTY-FIVE
I
As Prince Mnestros rode through the gates of Agrys City, he was shocked by the blasted buildings, burnt stores and the ruins that looked as if they’d been untouched for years. He hadn’t been inside the city for over five winters and many of the sights and places he remembered were gone or in disrepair. It appeared that Prince-Regent Grythos had done little to repair the damage the Styphoni siege had brought upon the city. Once, the wealthiest city in the Five Kingdoms, Agrys City was now a place of desolation and poverty.
Baron Balthron, who had met him outside and provided an escort, turned to him and said, “It makes me sick every time I look upon the damage those manure-eating priests have cast upon our home.”
As they approached the center of town, the damage was less apparent and people began to appear, some of them waving and throwing flowers at their small procession. A few held up idols of Dralm and Yirtta Allmother. Before Archpriest Grythos left, simple ownership of those images would have cost these followers their very lives.
“The people of Agrys City appreciate your sacrifice, Prince Mnestros. Praise Galzar! Without your attack upon the walls to draw the Styphoni soldiers’ attention, our counterattack might well have failed.”
“We’ve been fortunate, Baron. Archpriest Grythos stripped too many soldiers from the southern princedoms to take with him to Balph. Our forces have been able to liberate the Princedoms of Glarth, Eubros, Varthon, Kryphlon, Cythor and soon all of Hos-Agrys, north of the city. When our army entered Cythor, the people rose up against their rulers and hung them from the nearest tree limbs. The Styphoni soldiers and their allies fled into Arbelon without firing a shot! We now have over twenty thousand soldiers to fight against the Styphoni occupiers and their collaborators—with more joining every day.”
Baron Balthron spit on the ground. “A pox on all the Styphoni blasphemers! I’m overjoyed at your success. However, this news will not be greeted with joy when it reaches Balph.”
“I doubt theyll even notice,” Mnestros said, laughing. “They’ve got the Army of Hos-Hostigos to worry about. The Hostigi are already at the gates of Balph!”
“This is wonderful news!” Balthron cried.
“Furthermore, we have just learned that Great Queen Rylla and her army have taken Harphax City without firing a shot!”
“What about Great Queen Lavena?”
“She was beheaded by her own subjects. If Geblon the Usurper should survive the attack on Balph, he’ll find no support or joy upon his return to Hos-Harphax. The Styphoni reign of terror in the Northern Great Kingdoms has come to an end!”
“Praise Galzar and Allfather Dralm!” Balthron cried out. Then he turned serious. “I need to warn you that Prince Dementros was enthroned this morning as the Great King of Hos-Agrys.” As the Baron waited for Mnestros’ response, he drew back as if he expected a blow.
“Praise Dralm and Galzar!” Prince Mnestros cried out.
“Praise the True Gods! Some advisors here were worried that you might desire the throne. Not that you don’t deserve it. We didn’t want to slight you, after helping us to rid the city of Styphon’s minions, but Dementros has the bloodline of the Agrysi great kings.”
“I know,” he said. “I met him several winters ago, before he was captured. I was impressed by the boy. I was worried that Grythos would never ever allow him to live long enough to take his rightful place.”
“Yes, there was a rumor that the Arch-Devil wanted to take the lad to Balph where he intended to have him murdered.”
“I believe it,” Prince Mnestros said. “I’m sure the swine would have then enthroned himself. I pray to the gods that he dies in the Siege of Balph.”
“May the gods will it!” Balthron echoed.
As they reached the central plazos, Mnestros noted that the high temples of Yirtta, Dralm and Tranth had been leveled, as well as the newer temple to Styphon.
The Prince pointed to the ruins, saying, “It doesn’t appear that the people wasted any time tearing that abomination down!”
“No,” Balthron replied. “We stripped the golden tiles from the dome first, then we allowed the people to pull it down. Grythos took most of the Kingdom’s treasury with him when he left, so the gold we looted from the Styphoni temples will help restore the city’s coffers.”
“It will be a start,” Mnestros said.
They dismounted and tied up their horses before the palace. Mnestros noted several trails of blood leading from the stairs to the Presence Chamber, where the newly enthroned king sat with Lady Tymolara at his side.
Great King Dementros stood up as soon as he spotted Mnestros, jumping off the dais and running to the Prince with a big hug.
Balthron stood like a statue, his mouth hanging open.
“Prince, we thank you for your attack upon the city walls. They drew the Styphoni like flies to a fresh corpse.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. It’s good to see you again; you look healthy, and much bigger!” Mnestros replied.
“It’s been a tough couple of years, living under the Arch-Devil’s thumb, but we managed with some help,” he ended pointing to Lady Tymolara.
“You mean Duchess Lysia,” he returned.
“What do you mean duchess?” she asked.
Balthron now looked totally confused. Mnestros turned to the Baron, saying, “When we located the heir, with Grand Master Soton on our trail, we feared the real Lady Tymolara would have a difficult time appeasing Archpriest Grythos and Grand Master Soton. We needed a woman who would not bend under great pressure, so the Duchess Lysia was chosen by Great Queen Rylla to impersonate the governess.”
“But who is she?” the Baron asked.
“The Duchess is Captain-General Hestophes’ wife.”
Mnestros couldn’t have dropped one of Kalvan’s shells in the center of the room without greater effect.
“The Hostigi Great Captain-General’s wife!” Balthron cried.
“Yes, she is his wife.”
“What I want to know is where does this duchess nonsense come from?” Lysia demanded.
“Oh, you wouldn’t know. Great King Kalvan has elevated your husband to Duke. After the war, sufficient property and monies appropriate to your new status will be provided.”
Dementros danced around Lysia. “This is wonderful news.” Then he quickly sobered. “Does this mean you’ll be leaving Us?”
Mnestros noted that boy was already using the royal we. He learns fast!
Lysia shook her head. “Not for some time, Your Majesty. My husband will be busy cleaning the Styphoni stables for quite some time.”
II
Kalvan watched from a nearby copse of pine trees as the attack opened. The dark green and maroon colors of Hos-Hostigos were flying in the breeze at his back. It was early morning and there was a light fog that clung to the ground enveloping the artillery. Captain-General Alkides was using three batteries, two batteries of ten eighteen-pound guns and one battery of the thirty-two pounders, against the walls of Balph. From behind, his position was supported by some twelve thousand infantry with two sleeves of cavalry to either side, in case there was an unexpected breakout. The Mobile Force Sharpshooters were charged with the job of keeping the palisades clear of enemy riflemen and musketeers; so far they had swept the battlements free of snipers and observers.
The Styphoni had a big old bombard in the nearest tower and were trying to lever it to where it could fire on the Hostigi batteries, when the battery of eighteen-pounders went off. Half a dozen shots hit the stone tower, knocking the gun backwards, pinning a few men, and wounding the rest of the artillerymen with flying shards of stone. Their screams were audible from Kalvan’s position next to the artillery batteries.
