John Carr - The Fireseed Wars

"Then what can I do?" Lysandros asked. "Duke Kaphros, who is reigning in my absence in Harphax City, is a good administrator but he is no military man. All my best captains are in Hostigos where they are needed. Duke Aesthes, who is in nominal command of my militia, is not fit to ride a horse these days… Not that I would allow him." He barked a harsh laugh. "The incompetent fool has already lost one Harphaxi Army fighting Kalvan; only an idiot-like my dear departed brother-would give him a second opportunity."

Soton had to stifle a laugh. Truer words were never spoken. "Maybe it is time for Your Majesty to return to Hos-Harphax and deal with the Thaphigos incident in person."

Lysandros rose up out of his chair. "I cannot leave the Host. If I return to Harphax, my soldiers will learn that I am under the Ban of Galzar-what kind of army will I lead then? My princely levy will desert and return to their farms. My Royal Lancers may remain if I promise them enough gold upon the conclusion of the Thaphigos campaign, but my Royal Pistoleers are more faithful to the Wargod and his priests. They will leak away like water through an old barn roof. I will not be able to hire any free companies, even if there are any mercenaries left in the Kingdom not under some princely banner. What would you have me do?"

It's even worse than you think., Soton thought. The Ban may yet destroy us all. The Highpriests of Galzar had put the Grand Host under the Ban of Galzar with a list of all known Harphaxi and Ktemnoi dukes and barons. Fortunately, they had not named Prince Phidestros, who remained the only major Harphaxi ruler not under the Ban. "But for the Ban of Galzar, I would suggest sending Phidestros and his Iron Band to remedy the Thaphigos invasion; however, we would then lose the services of most of our mercenaries who are oath-sworn personally to the Captain-General. This we cannot allow."

"No. I see the wisdom in your words, although I despise the imbecilic priests who arrived at such a blundering decision," Lysandros said through clenched teeth.

Soton was glad there was no one around to overhear Lysandros' condemnation of Galzar's priesthood. Styphon's Own folly would be the result, along with the quick dismembering of the Grand Host. Lysandros might hold the Wargod in disdain, but his common soldiers most emphatically did not. The priests of Galzar did more than set rules and regulations for battles and warfare; they were the healers and caretakers of the battlefield sick and wounded. In addition, all their members were retired military men who had far more in common with their laity than their own commanders did.

"Now, think harder, Grand Master. How long will it be before Phidestros is under the Ban? After all, he too is part of the Grand Host."

Soton shrugged his shoulders. "I had hoped we would be in Ulthor by now and that Galzar's messengers would not catch up to us until after we brought the Hostigi to a final battle. However, the delay in taking Tarr-Hostigos"-he paused to glare at Lysandros since the lengthy siege was at his insistence-"has allowed events to get ahead of us. I have special patrols waiting for any visitors from Hos-Agrys."

"But will they stop the Wargod's priests?"

"These men will. Most are oath-brothers who believe in no gods but their own Ruthani ones. They will do whatever I order."

"It is good to have such men, but can they guarantee that no priests or other outsiders will slip into our midst?"

Soton shook his head sadly. "No, only the gods can make such promises. My men can only do their best."

"Then, you must admit that once the priests of Galzar place Captain-General Phidestros under the Ban, we may lose the services of all our mercenaries."

Soton cringed. I do not want to admit any such thing, even if it is true. The loss of over twenty-eight thousand mercenaries, including the Iron Band itself, would be a hard blow to accept. If dismissed, he doubted that Phidestros would consent to leaving his Beshtan Army behind, since the majority of them still fought under the Prince's Iron Band banner-even upon King Lysandros' direct order. "Reluctantly, I will admit that your words hold much truth."

"This cannot be allowed. I can keep my sworn-vassals with the Host as long as we are in the field. Things will be different upon our return to Hos-Harphax: Most of my princes and lords will return to their demesnes and the greater part of the Royal Army will lay down their arms in support of the Ban. Is this not true?"

Soton reluctantly agreed.

"Therefore, I must stay with the Grand Host as one of its commanders until the Traitor and Usurper Kalvan is brought to heel."

As much as Soton distrusted Phidestros and was angered by his dismissal of his advice at the siege of Tarr-Hostigos, the mercenary Captain-General was one of the best strategists and campaigners that he had under his command-very likely the best, as much as he hated to admit it. Lysandros on the other hand had a good reputation as a captain-general, but all his fighting had been in the years before the Usurper Kalvan's arrival. He had never fought the Hostigi and that was a big disadvantage. Furthermore, Lysandros was a Great King now and not about to take orders from those he considered his inferiors-and judging by what Soton had observed since he had first met Lysandros, that included just about everyone in the Five Kingdoms, including his fellow Great Kings, the Archpriests of the Inner Circle and all the generals with the Grand Host.

Still, he could see no trail out of this Dralm-damned cock-up with the priests of Galzar-damn Roxthar for no end of devilment! Thanks to that fool, he would be yoked with another unreliable commander, one whose status as Great King made him a political as well as a military liability.

"I see no solution," Lysandros continued, "but to send Phidestros back to Hos-Harphax and have him deal with the Agrysi invaders."

"I fear, your words ring with truth. Although losing Phidestros will be costly; not only will we lose a proven commander, but over twenty-eight thousand good soldiers since the Host's mercenaries have swelled his ranks." Now that the former free companies were under his personal banner, Phidestros would not relinquish a single company to the Grand Host-not after being dismissed as Grand Captain-General. That Soton knew for a fact.

Lysandros grinned like a wolf about to tear at the haunch of a downed elk.

Suddenly it was all clear: Lysandros didn't care about the Grand Host. All he cared about was an opportunity to show off his military grandeur- outshine Phidestros, if the truth were told. And, if he happened to stumble across Kalvan's treasury wagons; well, so much the better.

Lysandros splayed his hands. "The Host would lose even more men were I to leave with my Royal Army and levy. With the Captain-General in Hos-Harphax, there will be enough troops to keep Demistophon inside his own borders."

"That is true." Soton paused to take out his pipe and tobacco pouch. He needed time to think. He'd been so busy dealing with the day-to-day affairs of the Host, which were Hadron's own burden, that he hadn't given the political aspects enough thought. Now, he didn't have a choice. He would miss Phidestros' steady hand in battle; he only hoped that Lysandros could fill his saddle. Still, it could be worse; he could be stuck with Great King Demistophon.

"Do you agree that it is our foremost duty to search, find and destroy the Usurper Kalvan and his army?" Soton asked.

"I give you my oath, before you and Styphon, that I will chase the Usurper to his lair and dispatch him and his ignoble henchmen. I will not have a single carefree night's sleep until this malefactor is captured, dismembered and burned to ashes!"

Or take charge of Kalvan's treasure train, Soton wondered. "Then Great King Lysandros you have my support in so ordering Captain-General Phidestros back to Hos-Harphax."