John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

Tortha whistled. "He pulled a Kalvan."

"Kalvan doesn't have any corner on military genius and Phidestros, as it turns out, is a first rate commander."

Tortha tapped the residue out of his pipe into an ashtray, and then refilled the bowl. "When will word of this debacle reach Hostigos?"

"Any hour. I'm surprised word hasn't reach Hostigos Town already."

"I'd have heard the fireworks shooting out of Tarr-Hostigos, if the news had reached Town."

"By the way, how are the Royal couple these days?"

Tortha's face took on a worried cast, as he paused to strike a spark on his tinderbox and light his pipe. "Not very well. Kalvan came back way ahead of schedule from Tarr-Ceros without any escort but a few Lifeguards I suspect he couldn't shake. The story I heard-you know we've resisted leaving any telltales in Tarr-Hostigos-"

Verkan nodded. "We don't eavesdrop on friends. Although, there are occasions-like this-when it would be a help."

"Anyway, after Kalvan got back, they went to it with everything but the Great King's ceremonial halberd. Apparently Prince Ptosphes had to come in as peacemaker. I don't know if it did any good. Rylla came out of it with hurt pride, a bandaged hand and her back so stiff you could use it as a bridge. I doubt Kalvan had anything to do with the injury, since Ptosphes is still lodging at the Tarr. Kalvan's been drinking heavily and staying out of the common quarters. Everyone at Tarr-Hostigos is walking on tippy-toes."

"Someone is going to have to have a talk with that boy."

"You might try, you certainly got enough talks from me during that first companionate marriage with Dalla! You should have picked up something along the way."

Verkan covered both his ears. "Will I never live that down? And you, a lifelong bachelor! It's a wonder we ever got back together."

Tortha grinned. "Let me get out a couple of goblets of Ermut's Best. You got me there. Let's take a drink to me minding my own business. At least I learned enough to not bother poor Kalvan with my words of wisdom about Queen Rylla!"

"I'll offer a toast to that!" Verkan took the offered goblet and took a drink. "To minding your own business. I think I may take some of that advice for myself and not try to tell Kalvan how to patch up his break with Rylla"

"He'll appreciate it, I'm sure. He's already got Prince Ptosphes hovering over him like an old hen!"

"Of course, I can't make any promises for Dalla."

"Ha! No sir, Chief. Dalla and Rylla will soon be up to no end of mischief."

"You can say that again. After Dalla arrives, Kalvan's going to need all the help he can get!"

As Duke Skranga puffed his way up the keep's stairway to the third floor, he noticed he was absent-mindedly tugging his already sparse beard. He mentally admonished himself and brushed away the few tufts of red hair that had fallen out. By Hadron's Forked-Tongue, if I keep losing hair, my chin will be as clean of hair as my crown!

Skranga knew only too well what was really bothering him. He had never liked being the bearer of bad news-especially to his King. More than one Great King had beheaded messengers with tidings no less worse than his own. While it was true that King Kalvan was usually above such base conduct, it was also true that Skranga had no family or interest to protest any action the Great King might make on his person. What a fool he had been not to take Kalvan's gold long ago and run off to distant Hos-Zygros instead of lingering about in Harphax City.

On the other hand, the best he could have come to in Hos-Zygros-a most frigid and inhospitable place-was a genteel anonymity, where he would be fair game to ruthless lords and the bandits who prey on the strangers no one will miss. No, he had-for once-done the right thing, no matter how onerous the duty occasionally became. After all, he had almost a hundred agents and intelligencers on his payroll and knew more about the comings and goings in the Six-no-Seven Kingdoms (counting the new kingdom of Hos-Rathon) than any man outside of Balph. This was the work he was born to do.

Upon entering Kalvan's study, he noticed how haggard the Great King appeared and the bruise-like shadows under each of his eyes. Apparently the rumors were true and the Great King had been evicted from the royal bedchamber by Rylla. It might be a good time to start reviewing possible candidates for the royal couch; it would not hurt, despite his loyalty, to have an ear only a heartbeat away from the Throne. Besides, his agent would be guaranteed to be discreet; someone else's might do the Kingdom harm. He mentally reviewed his latest conquests and decided there was no end of possible candidates; most fair enough to warm a man's heart as well as slake his hunger.

Kalvan rose from his desk and pointed to a horsehide-covered chair. "Sit down, Duke Skranga. And, by Dralm's white beard, may your news be good news!"

A closer look at the Great King revealed blood-shot eyes, which bespoke a bad hangover-a condition Skranga knew well like a shrewish wife that beat on one's head when one was having a good time.

Skranga resolved to let this badger out of the bag very slowly. "Your Majesty, I have been in contact with most of my intelligencers as you requested in regards to the Phaxos matter."

"Yes?"

"We have some very good news. Xentos, as Primate of Dralm, was able to use his influence to defeat a resolution put before the Council to place Hos-Hostigos under a Ban of Dralm. It was a close vote and, while a Ban of Dralm would not have hurt our trade overmuch, it might have cost us heavily in support by those Princes who covertly aid our struggle against the False God Styphon."

"Skranga, you are prattling. It's not like you, so get to the point."

Skranga took a deep breath. "It appears the Princes of Hos-Harphax are beginning to fear your ambitions more than they fear Lysandros and his ties to Styphon's House. In Hos-Hostigos your recent success against the nomads far out-weigh any concerns over who sits upon the seat of Phaxos. However, I also understand, from a reliable ear, that Prince Balthames of Sashta has been secretly talking with a merchant known to be in Styphon's employ."

"That ingrate! I suspect that half his boy friends are on Our payroll. Is this true?"

Skranga nodded.

"Good. Perhaps one of them can slip him a potion some cold winter night."

"Your Majesty, I suspect the fog of recent events has clouded your usual good judgment. The assassination of one of your Princes, following so close upon the war in Phaxos, might add fuel to the rumors about your ambition to become Great King of All the Kingdoms-"

"Enough! You make excellent sense. I'm not myself this morning. But we are going to have to do something about Balthames before he betrays us as his brother, Balthar of Beshta, did at the Battle of Tenabra. Do you have any ideas?"

"Yes. As I understand it this merchant, one Kythames, has been acting as the go-between for Prince Balthames and one of Lysandros' agents. Kythames has rather exotic tastes in female flesh. I have a most unusual Ruthani maiden, purportedly from the Sea of Grass, who has been known to make men so lovesick they leave their families or even kill themselves upon her leaving… I will use her as a hook to catch this Kythames and, when he is under her spell, I will have her obtain evidence from him that will damn Balthames in anyone's eyes."

"Excellent. But don't tell me any more details. Since neither Balthames nor his brother ever had any issue, I can make a gift of Sashta to Captain-General Harmakros. It would be a fitting reward for his loyal service and friendship to the Throne."

"I agree, Your Majesty, although it might be wise for him to legitimize his bastard, Aspasthar, now rather than when he takes the seat of Sashta. You might suggest this to him. I suspect that Harmakros is not anxious for a fall marriage and would like to guarantee the succession of Sashta in favor of his only son."