John Carr - The Fireseed Wars

The only subjects were those manning the rest stops, a few Temple Guardsmen and some beaten-down peasants. The farms, when not demolished and looted, were vacant with fields trampled down to the nub. The villages were in ruins and the towns were leveled to the ground. Styphon's sign-the red sun-wheel-was painted on every standing wall and building. Several times they had been stopped by squads of Investigators and they had been interrogated and treated like unwelcome guests.

Were it not for Lysandros' seal on his letter, Sthentros doubted they would have arrived at all. He'd seen the avaricious looks aimed at his princely garments and the appraisal done by knowing eyes.

This madman Roxthar must be stopped before I have nothing left, he told himself.

As they drove through the outskirts of Hostigos Town, he was appalled by the sights that met his eyes. He had hoped beyond reason that the Styphoni had left his future seat intact. Even carrion birds keep their nests dean, he thought. However, the farms they passed were knocked down or burnt, their fields left untended with crops ridden into the ground. He prayed that things would improve when they reached Hostigos Town proper.

As the carriage entered the town, he saw it was not to be. Many of the buildings were still standing, but most of the facades had been stripped of wood to fuel the Grand Host's insatiable appetite for firewood. As the coach drove through the streets, he saw work parties disassembling houses and stores, throwing lumber on huge wagons and carts. At this rate, all of Hostigos Town will be stripped to its foundation within a moon!, he railed to himself. He wanted to stick his head out the window and order these varlets to stop pillaging his town, but he was afraid of these wild-eyed soldiers who'd feasted on Hostigos' bones for moons. They looked more like bandits than soldiers to his eyes.

Sthentros suspected these men would have no compunction about stopping the carriage and pulling its passengers out, robbing and killing them on the spot. The carriage was hushed; the three friends to whom he'd granted Hostigi baronies looked frightened and shocked by the sights that met their eyes. His daughter Lavena looked bored. "When are we going to get to the palace, father?" she asked.

"Soon. We're almost to Palace Road. I'm hoping that King Lysandros will let us stay at the Palace until he returns to Harphax City."

She snorted. "Of course, he will." She almost preened. "All I want to know is when he's going to marry me officially. I can already see myself as Great Queen of Hos-Harphax-and cousin Rylla thought she was the grand one!"

"By the looks of it, that probably won't be for awhile, my dear." Lavena was spoiled and petulant, but she was ruthless about getting her own way. He loved and indulged her because she was his only child and the spitting image of her Aunt Demia, who'd been the love of his life. Had he been Prince of Hostigos, Demia would have been his wife, instead of marrying that hayseed Ptosphes.

Boar Lane was blocked by wreckage; it looked like a supply wagon had crashed into a carriage with broken barrels and boxes scattered across the road. High Street was clean and the carriage turned left up the hill toward the palace. Tranth's Hall was still standing, a good sign. Some of the businesses, mostly inns and taverns and brothels, were still open and there were people on the streets, mostly scurrying about quickly as if afraid of drawing attention to themselves. I'm going to have to put a firm stop to this insane Investigation.

As he stepped out of the carriage in the public square, Sthentros looked up at the Palace, realizing that it looked nowhere as grand as he'd imagined. Everything about Hostigos Town was small and dingy, even after discounting the war damage. Living in Harphax City had changed his perspective forever. Turning this backwater town into a major city was going to be the work of a lifetime. The first job would have to be a complete restoration and rebuilding of the Palace.

Even before that, however, he would have to see Great King Lysandros and demand that this horrid Investigation be brought to a halt. He'd met Roxthar himself and the Archpriest seemed like a reasonable man. Maybe the problem was that no one had treated him as an equal. Everyone said such horrible things about him behind his back, it was bound to make him suspicious and bad-tempered. He knew how to deal with those types.

After all, wasn't his daughter engaged to a Great King? It wouldn't have happened, if he hadn't been there to orchestrate it. Lavena, for all her virtues, was too quick to answer love's summons. He'd had to coach her and order her to play the temptress. It had worked, too. It hadn't hurt that the new Great King was anxious to produce an heir to cement his reign over Hos-Harphax.

They were met at the gate by one of the Palace stewards.

"I'm Prince Sthentros of Hostigos and I seek an audience with my Great King."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but I am under strict orders to admit no one. Not even Roxthar himself, can cross this threshold." There were two big halberdiers standing behind him, with expressions that made it obvious they knew their job.

Sthentros knew how to approach these petty functionaries. He gave the man his most ingratiating smile. "Our great friend, King Lysandros, probably does not know of our arrival. It was requested by the King himself. He wants to see his fiancee."

The word "fiancee" got the steward's attention.

"Please come into the antechamber. You can wait there while I inform His Majesty that you have arrived. How would you like to be announced?"

"Prince Sthentros of Hostigos and his daughter, the Princess Lavena. That will do."

"Yes, Your Highness," the steward said as he bowed, then quickly scurried away. His guests appeared impressed.

It took most of the afternoon before the steward returned and by then even Sthentros' enthusiasm had waned. Things will be a lot different once Lysandros is gone and out of my life!

Lavena, who could make herself comfortable anywhere like a kitten, was curled up on one of the marble benches. One of his retainers had given her his fur cloak to rest upon, not surprising her father in the least. Men always scurried to win her favor.

The steward looked self-important and had a twinkle in his eye, indicating that he'd enjoyed his visitors' discomfiture. Sthentros made a mental note to learn if the steward had purposely kept Lysandros in the dark about their arrival. If so, he'd personally see to it that someday the churl got the whipping he deserved!

"Come with me, Your Highness. You too, Princess." When the others started to rise from their benches, he shook his head. "The rest of you can wait for your Prince."

Lysandros was in the private audience chamber seated on a throne formerly belonging to Prince Ptosphes. I never liked that bumpkin, Ptosphes, but he did have more manners than this Great King.

Lysandros rose to his feet, opened his arms and waited for Lavena to fall into them. He whispered some endearments into her ear and then offered her a seat. Meanwhile, Sthentros was left waiting while they talked for a quarter of a candle, stifling every yawn and the urge to throw a screaming fit. With his luck of late, it might end with him in the Palace dungeon.

Finally, the King looked up and said, "Welcome, Prince, to your new lands."

He did his best to ignore the irony of the King's welcome. "I'm glad to finally be here, Your Majesty. However, it appears that Archpriest Roxthar's enthusiasm to rid Hostigos of heresy and non-believers has completely depopulated the Princedom!" He hadn't meant for his voice to grow so strident, but he was still in a state of shock after his journey through the former Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos.

"You'll have to talk to the Investigator about that. I'm sure he'd welcome the opportunity to learn your opinions concerning his labors on Styphon's behalf." Lysandros all but guffawed at the last. Even Lavena had to gulp down a chuckle.