Gunpowder God (23 page)

She stood up awkwardly, trying to balance her out-of-proportion pregnant body which she was still becoming used to. “What?…Why?”

“We have reports that a large army of Styphoni have crossed the Beshtan border.”

“I know that there has been more trouble than usual with the border reivers. However, I thought Grand Master Soton was still besieging Agrys City.”

“As far as we know, he is, Your Highness. This army is flying the colors of Knight Commander Orocles. It numbers some eight to ten thousand soldiers with several gun companies. I would like for Your Highness to take flight immediately. There is nothing you can do here.”

“Leave Our subjects! I would rather suffer with them, than desert them.” The people of Beshta had taken her into their hearts, and she had done likewise. The Beshtans had suffered grievously from the many passing armies and battles on Beshtan soil during the past five winters. Still, for all that, they were a brave people and she would not leave them to suffer the Investigation alone.

Cythros fell down to his knees. “Please, my Lady, I beg of you. This army carries the banner of the Holy Investigation, a red flag with Styphon’s device. You must leave. If Tarr-Beshta falls and you are captured and given to Archpriest Roxthar, the Prince will never forgive me!”

“I’m sorry, General, but I must leave my fate and that of Our subjects in your worthy hands. I will not leave unless Our subjects leave with me.”

“That’s impossible, Your Highness. By the time most of them will be ready to leave, the Styphoni will be knocking down the Town Gates. At best, including the Town garrison, I can field four, maybe five thousand men, including the local militia.”

Arminta nodded. Beshta had an unusually large number of soldiers because her husband had brought so many free companions back with him from the Middle Kingdoms. Some of the mercenaries had retired, due to Phidestros’ generous payouts, becoming farmers and townspeople, while others had joined the Beshtan Army. Unfortunately, most of the princedom’s troops were off with her husband.

“They ambushed our expedition into Syriphlon. We do not have enough men to engage the enemy and win. The Town Walls are old and have been repaired many times; they will not hold the Styphoni back for long.”

“They don’t need to, General. All they have to do is keep the enemy out until my husband returns. He will know what to do with them.”

“Princess, you don’t understand—”

“I understand that our fate is up to the gods and goddesses. I will not leave our people to face the Investigation alone. Let us get down on our knees and pray to Allfather Dralm and Yirrta Allmother for their aid.”

“Your Highness, it’s not Dralm or Yirrta we should be praying to, but the Wargod.”

“Then, you pray to Galzar. I will beseech the other gods.”

Up ahead, the long column came to a halt. Great King Lysandros used the respite to dry off his face from the water leaking through his hat. He got off his horse and led it to a patch of weeds, where it chomped hungrily. His armor squeaked and rattled; he’d been so tired last night, he’d forgotten to have his armorer dry it off and apply lard to the joints. The rain and fog obscured the landscape, which was a blessing, since there was nothing to see in this cursed valley but burnt farmhouses and trampled fields. Or the endless forests that covered the neverending hills and ridges.

To think, all of this is mine!
he thought, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Styphon’s House had proved to be no shepherd of Lysandros’ lands; their Investigation of Sask had left much of the area inhospitable. Upon learning of their arrival, while they were traveling through Kyblos, all the Saski peasants and freeholders had left for Beshta, taking their food and animals with them. At least they hadn’t burnt the fields as Kalvan had done during his retreat through Nyklos and Ulthor.

After leaving the Veshtar, Lysandros had led his army into Kyblos following the Akyros Road east into Sask. He had thought Kyblos was desolate and deserted, with only empty towns and villages and only a few bedraggled serfs working the land, until he reached Sask which had almost been wholly abandoned.

The Investigation had left almost nothing in the way of foodstuffs or farms to raid. As a result, his men were starving to death. Now, after the desolation of Sask, his men were on one-third rations and all the oxen had been devoured along with most of the horses in harness. Many of the wagons had been abandoned and the remaining ones were being pulled by the surviving camp followers. Half the cavalry horses had been eaten and if it weren’t for night guards the rest would be in the stewpot.

If there had been any place left to desert to, he would be an army of one. He wondered to himself,
What kind of army will I have by the time we reach Harphax City?

He heard the clomping of horses before he saw Captain-General Demnos and his guards. Demnos was riding a dappled-gray charger and wore a floppy hat to keep the rain off.

“Your Majesty, where are your Bodyguards?”

Lysandros pointed back to the column. “Over there somewhere. I don’t see them with all this rain.”

“Well, I advise you not to go anywhere without them again.”

“What are you talking about? Is there talk of rebellion among the soldiers?”

“Worse, Your Majesty! The Bastard Prince has had his scouts posting notices to the effect that all deserters will be welcomed. Fortunately, our own scouts got to the notices first, and most of the men cannot read.”

“He’s close, then.”

“Aye, aye, Your Majesty. Him and his Army of Greater Beshta. Phidestros is also offering a reward of fifty thousand gold Crowns for your head!”

“Damn his eyes! I should never have allowed him to leave the Host. How is my wife?”

“The Queen?” Demnos’ face wrinkled. “No one knows; we haven’t heard a word from the capital since we left Kyblos. You should put her out of your mind, Your Majesty. You need to concentrate on our problems at hand. The Bastard, for all his faults, owns a lot of respect among our soldiers.”

“You think some of the men might take him up on his offer of amnesty?”

“Of course! Your soldiers are tired, weak, starving; morale couldn’t be worse. If the back-stabber’s army appeared out of the fog this moment, half our army would throw down its weapons and surrender. The other half would run.”

Lysandros tried to maintain his calm.
Things can’t be this bad, can they?
Maybe… Demnos had no reason to lie, and every reason to tell the truth.

Already he could feel a sense of menace emanating from the line of soldiers.
It’s my imagination. Demnos has me fretting like a virgin on her wedding night!

“We must keep this news from the men at all costs.”

Demnos shrugged, as if he thought the spark had already struck the primer pan.

“Send more scouts out,” Lysandros ordered. “We need to know where the Bastard is holed up.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll do my best. The black-hearted Bastard’s offered a reward for my head, too!”

“Double rations for everyone tonight. I want the men in fighting trim.”

“We’re close to an empty larder, Your Majesty. We’d better hope he fights soon, or we’ll all starve to death.”

“I want you to leave immediately for Zygros City,” Styphon’s Voice said, as he leaned back to take a puff on his pipe.

“Yes, Your Divinity, but isn’t it a bit late in the season for overland travel?” Archpriest Danthor asked. He knew that overland travel to the far north during the fall in a pre-mechanical civilization was difficult at best what with washed-out roads and freezing rain or snow.

“You’re going to take a fast galley. It should get you to the coast in about a quarter moon.”

Right, as long as a nor’easter doesn’t come up!
he thought. “Yes, Your Divinity. But why the hurry?”

Anaxthenes made a smile that only needed fangs to make it positively snake-like. “First, Grand Master Soton now controls Agrys City and, secondly, the Selestros problem is about to be solved. Once Great King Lysandros returns to Harphax City, Selestros will meet the King’s headsman.”

He held his thumb and index finger apart by just a fraction. “We are now this close to owning all the Five Kingdoms. The time has arrived to ensure that the Zygrosi do not cause us problems next spring. It is well known that Great King Sopharar is a member of the Zygrosi League of Dralm. Our agents in Hos-Zygros tell us that he is preparing to send an army south to aid the Agrysi League of Dralm against our own Host of Styphon’s Deliverance. This is not a friendly act.”

Danthor nodded. “What can we do to stop him, Your Divinity?”

“A good question. Grand Master Soton will be busy conquering the rest of Hos-Agrys and, since we don’t have an army to send, we will have to use other means to put a wrench in Sopharar’s wagon wheel. In this case his brother, Prince Eudocles. The Prince is heavily in our debt, hates his older brother and is as ambitious as the winter is long—and it is very long in Hos-Zygros. With the right encouragement, he will do as Lysandros did before him. Thessamona will accompany you with her little vials.”

Danthor nodded. The downside to being one of Anaxthenes’ right-hand men was that he had to do a lot of unpleasant work. He also needed to show that he was more than just a functionary. “Your Divinity, isn’t it true that Grand Duke Eudocles is also Phidestros’ real father?”

“Yes, there’s considerable evidence that this is so.”

“Therefore, Your Divinity, by replacing one enemy with an ally we will have neutralized the Zygrosi League of Dralm, while sowing discord within the Agrysi League of Dralm. The Agrysi will be most disheartened when they learn their ally, Great King Sopharar, is dead and will not be supporting them in their war against the Temple.”

Anaxthenes gave him a smile of approval, while his eyes said something else:
Watch it priest, it doesn’t pay to appear too smart
.

Danthor was reminded of the Dhergabar University Faculty Senate where the Department heads saw every good idea as a potential threat from an adversary. “How does Grand Duke Eudocles’ son, Prince Phidestros fit into all of this?”

Styphon’s Voice paused. “We know there is no love between the two of them. However, in the past, we have been informed that Eudocles has given his son gold to support his troops. There could very well be some secret pact between the two of them; I wouldn’t put it past either one of them. Father and son are both very ambitious, deceitful and cunning. This is why I need someone I can trust, who is as crafty and unwavering as Eudocles, to act as my representative in Hos-Zygros. It will be your job to see that Eudocles takes our bait and neutralizes Hos-Zygros in the spring. Without the Army of Hos-Zygros to support them, the Agrysi League of Dralm’s army will fall quickly to Soton’s Hammer.

“If Prince Eudocles fails to take the required action in this matter, you can tell him we will withhold all further payments to him. Nor will we discharge his debts to our banking houses, and all his notes will become due immediately.”

Danthor nodded sagely. For a nobleman like Eudocles, who was in debt up to his armpits to Styphon’s House, having his notes called by Styphon’s Great Banking House would mean certain ruin. Or, Eudocles could turn to the League of Dralm; however, with his stained escutcheon, no one would believe any renunciation of Styphon’s House he might make.

“If I know my man,” Anaxthenes continued, “I don’t believe that such a warning will be necessary. However, the Great Kingdoms are in a state of flux and things have not always gone our way. It will be up to you to make sure this operation does. You will have an unlimited draft upon Styphon’s Great Banking House of Hos-Zygros to use as bait. He will need the gold to buy the loyalty of those Princes who can be bought and the rest to cause problems for those who have no price.”

Prince Sthentros of Hostigos looked out the window of his chamber down at the golden dome, which looked like an earthbound sun as it reflected the morning light. The Styphon’s House Temple was surrounded by ruins. It was one of the first new buildings in Hostigos Town, since most of the town had been destroyed during the Siege of Tarr-Hostigos. For allowing Styphon’s House to build their temple and giving them ownership of Wolf Valley, with its sulfur springs, he had received a hundred thousand ounces of gold and a wagonload of fireseed.

The gold had gone quickly, most for repairs and refurbishment of the palace. Some for victuals which were in short supply throughout old Hostigos. Like so many things he had hoped to accomplish, the rebuilding of Hostigos Town was costing more gold and happening far slower than he desired. For a while, after the riots in Harphax City, there had been a small flood of immigrants from Harphax City eager to till the Princedom’s rich farmlands.

Now, with their first crop about to be harvested, they were threatened with a plague of locusts coming from the west, Great King Lysandros and his starving horde. The Harphaxi Army was now an army in name only.

Great King Lysandros, only days away, was demanding cattle and foodstuffs they could not provide, not without starving his subjects this coming winter. He didn’t have enough farmers and serfs that he could afford to lose a single one. Nor did he have the troops to defend his borders, much less Hostigos Town.

He heard his door open and saw his manservant enter.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Your Highness, Highpriest Walthar wants to meet with you,” his manservant answered.

Sthentros nodded his head slowly; he was still suffering from a hangover from last night’s drinking bout.

“Tell him to enter!” he snapped. What was the Styphon’s House Highpriest going to demand now? Sometimes he wondered who was in charge of Hostigos, him or Styphon’s House.

The Highpriest Walthar, a small man lost in his yellow robe, entered his bedchamber as if he owned it. “Your Highness, one of our intelligencers reports that Prince Phidestros and the Army of Greater Beshta is within a day’s march of Hyllos Town.”

“That close! Do you think they’ll march into Hostigos Town?” He felt his stomach drop as if he’d swallowed a large stone.