John Carr - The Fireseed Wars

"Right now Thagnor City is being besieged by the Grand Host of Styphon. If your people could be persuaded to raid across the Great Mother River and hit the border tarrs of the Zarthani Knights, that would help a great deal. It might even force Soton to withdraw his Knights from Hos-grys.

Sargos nodded. "Many of our young men did not get enough fighting in the harsh lands and would love to raid the rich fields and villages of the Sastragath. But what about the Knights and their allies?"

Kalvan smiled. "This is where it gets good. Styphon's House is now fighting two wars, one against me and one against Great King Demistophon in Hos-Agrys. The Grand Master has been forced to bleed his border tarrs of Knights and their retainers to field both armies. True, there will be some soldiers left to mind the tarrs, but nothing like the numbers in the past. There probably aren't enough soldiers remaining in all of the Order's tarrs to field an army twenty thousand strong."

Sargos whistled.

"Most of the Sacred Squares of Hos-Ktemnos are off fighting as well; those left behind are under strength. Only the border Squares are at full strength. You won't have to worry about an attack from the east. As long as you don't cross the border, the Sastragath is yours."

Sargos rushed over to Kalvan and threw his arms around him, almost crushing him in the process. He doesn't have a clue as to how strong he is, does he?

"You have given me another priceless gift. What can I give you in return? Ten thousand warriors, Mexicotal gold, wagons of beer, a hundred young virgins-you name it, it's yours!"

"I want nothing in return. If your people can cause enough damage and pain to the Order of Zarthani Knights, that will be payment enough."

Sargos took his sausage-sized finger and poked it at Kalvan's chest. "I owe you my crown. I was a child and you were my tutor. The debt I owe you, Your Majesty, can never be repaid in this lifetime!"

The next moon quarter had been filled with drinking, boasting and the telling of stories, none more fantastic than Sargos' expedition all the way to the heart of Mexicotal-to Tenochtitlan, built at the edge of Lake Texcoco. The Warlord's clans had besieged the Aztec capital for three moon quarters before receiving a hundred wagons of gold in exchange for quitting the siege and retiring from the Mexicotal lands. This was acceptable since the war horde was running low on supplies and had never intended to stay in Mexico, only break the back of Mexicotal power and fill their many wagons with loot and slaves.

"It was the flresticks that made all the difference. Their warriors are fierce, especially those of the Eagle and Jaguar Clans. But all the fervor in the world does not stop a lead slug. Once we had killed the best of their knights, the rest were easy pickings. It will be a long time before they besiege Xiphlon, or enter the Sea of Grass to find sacrifices for their devil gods. I could tell you stories of priests dressed in human skins, ripping out the hearts of young men and women, or of pyramids of skulls and maidens adorned only in colored feathers… But enough of this talk, I grow weary of that accursed land."

"When you returned to Xiphlon with your booty, what was your reward from King Roldolf?" Kalvan asked.

Sargos gave a belly laugh that started in his toes and ended at the top of his head. "Ten wagons of gold!"

In the end, Kalvan had given Sargos and the Tymannes a dozen guns, including several of the old Greffan bombards that had survived the siege. They would certainly give the Order of Zarthani Knights a headache the likes of which they had never encountered before. The big, fierce looking Warlord had danced around the chamber when Kalvan had announced the gift like a ten year old at Christmas over a new Schwinn bicycle.

Kalvan's eyes returned to the parade ground as the first squadron of heavy cavalry, who could have easily passed for Medieval knights with strange gorgets and odd banners, rode by. The ground rumbled under their destriers' hooves.

Verkan turned to Kalvan. "Not bad, aye?"

"No, they actually look like a real army. Of course, nothing really counts until they're blooded, but they are much improved."

"I'm not worried, since you're leaving me three thousand veterans from the Royal Army to stiffen them. I've already got the Greffa Riflemakers Guild up and running. I hope to have my own small Mobile Force by fall- a couple of squadrons, at least."

"Excellent. Be prepared for anything; Theovacar will not relax until Greffa City is back in his hands." Kalvan wouldn't be surprised if Theovacar was already moving the better part of his army across Lake Michigan by ship to Rygen Town (Grand Rapids). He sketched the possible invasion routes out on a parchment map for Verkan, marking out places like Rygen that should be well-defended.

Verkan nodded. "I will put a fort at Rygen and one over there. However, I suspect I'm not the one who should be worrying. King Theovacar probably won't go after me until you've been properly punished. And that, much to Theovacar's dismay, is not going to be easy."

"I know, let him stew for a while. I need to get back to Thagnor City; Rylla will be giving birth any day now."

"Isn't your return what the Grand Host is waiting for?"

"Yes, I suppose. Either that or for Styphon to fly down from his Sky-Palace and break down the walls of Thagnor City!"

Hestophes was pacing back and forth along the parapets of Tarr-Eubros. Primate Xentos and Duke Mnestros, with his father's backing, were doing the best they could to resuscitate the corpse of the League's Army. After the League's defeat by the Styphoni, which had reduced their number by a third including both casualties and prisoners, the Army had split up to make it more difficult for Soton's troops to harry them. They had been given orders to meet later, but less than a third of the Army showed up at the prearranged spot.

Some Princes had left the field entirely, many soldiers had deserted; the end result was that all that was left to face Soton on the field of battle, after he disposed of Agrys City, was a League Army of little more than six thousand men. Some of the survivors were still recovering from wounds taken in the battle for Agrys City, while the remainder were dispirited and ready to abandon their cause. Hestophes was beginning to believe he was wasting his time and longed to return to Thagnor City, which more and more resembled home. He had made one thing clear to both Mnestros and Xentos: he was either to lead the League Army from this point on, or he would retire with his command and return to Nos-Hostigos.

Unlike Prince Vython, he would have never attacked the Host of Styphon's Deliverance until he'd had visual confirmation that King Demistophon's army was leaving Agrys City and advancing. Vython's counterattack against Soton had given the rest of the Army time to retire. However, it had cost Vython his life and splintered his command. Hestophes had asked for command of the reserve for just this reason. His men had survived to fight another day, but bringing the League of Dralm army back to life was going to be almost impossible without divine help.

He was pulled out of his reverie when one of his officers approached. "Captain-General, Captain Ranthos has requested your presence."

"Have him sent to my headquarters. I'll meet with him shortly."

As he went down the keep stairwell, Hestophes pondered why Ranthos wanted to confer with him. Was it possible that Prince Phidestros was sending the League additional troops? As he'd discovered during this long war, anything was possible. The former mercenary captain-general probably didn't see anything to his advantage in allowing Styphon's House to gobble up entire kingdoms, and much to his potential disadvantage.