John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

The Duke shook his balding head sorrowfully. "Old Great King Kaiphranos is still lying on his deathbed; the one he mounted when his son led that suicide charge with his lancers and died so gloriously. Ha! It's been going on for moons now. The whole capital is holding it's breath, waiting either for the old fool to draw his last lung full, or the Daemon Kalvan to blow down the city walls. Meanwhile, his younger brother Grand Duke Lysandros grinds his teeth down to their gums with impatience, paying off one Elector after another."

"What of his son, Prince Selestros?"

"Visiting fleshpots and gambling dens as though they might all disappear if he lets them leave his sight! No one, including his father, wants him sitting on the Iron Throne."

"What are Lysandros's chances of becoming the new Great King?" Lysandros was one of the few effective rulers and military leaders left in Hos-Harphax.

"The princes of Hos-Harphax have become accustomed to a light hand on their harnesses. Few of them will welcome Lysandros, who's been known to whip his horses on occasion. On the other hand, he has had some military success and is the only Harphaxi leader capable of corralling and leading that gaggle of fools, or turning them into an effective fighting force.

"Is there anything we can do to slow his ambitions?"

"Not directly, Your Majesty, but I've got a few ideas."

Kalvan was sure the former horse trader did. Just as sure as Kalvan was that these 'ideas' were going to cost the Royal Treasury more than a few purses of gold.

Highpriest Davros did not like the way the Royal Bodyguards were eyeing him. He'd left the Agrys Temple of Dralm early this morning, at dawn, after Great King Demistophon's Royal Page had delivered the Summons. Davros had spent the rest of the morning and afternoon waiting in the anteroom outside the Royal Audience Chamber. Great King Demistophon had not been to the Temple of Dram or requested an audience with Davros, since Captain-General Artemanes had returned from Nostor, where the Agrysi Army had been soundly defeated by Prince Ptosphes of Hostigos. The Captain General had left the field of battle with less than half of his original force; the rest of the Agrys Army left behind, dead or wounded, and most of the mercenaries prisoners and free to join Kalvan's army when Demistophon failed to ransom them.

Most of Agrys City blamed Styphon's House for encouraging Great King Demistophon's foolhardy attack on Hos-Hostigos. No one knew whom Demistophon himself blamed, since he had stayed holed up in Tarr-Agrys from the moment word of his army's loss had reached the Kingdom. Rumor in the wineshops and alleyways of Agrys City had it that Demistophon was afraid Kalvan's army was going to sack the city in payment for its Great King's treachery-or stupidity.

All Highpriest Davros knew for sure was Great King Demistophon hadn't visited the High Temple of Dralm since his defeat. Then this sudden Royal Summons-Even the under-chamberlain, who was secretly in his employ, had no answers when questioned shortly after Davros arrival at the Palace.

His thoughts were interrupted by the High Chamberlain's voice. "High-priest Davros, I will escort you into the presence of Great King Demistophon." Davros tried to keep his hands from shaking as he stood up and followed in the wake of the Chamberlain's robes. Great King Demistophon was capricious at the best of times and his sour stomach often made his judgments harsh. Yet, Davros knew there would be some manner to which he could make a profit out of this unexpected Summons.

Davros was most surprised by the Great Kings' appearance. King Demistophon, who had always been heavy, was now obese and barely fit into the Ivory Throne. He had grown a second chin and his jowls were hanging down like dewlaps. His lips were thick like sausages and when he opened his mouth to speak it gaped obscenely. "What is this We hear about a renegade Hostigos priest in the Temple of Dralm?"

He must be referring to Highpriest Xentos, thought Davros, the High-priest of Hos-Hostigos. Xentos had without fanfare arrived in Agrys City to attend the Council of Dralm. Davros had not yet made up his mind how to use the Hostigi highpriest, but he knew he would come in useful. Davros believed the tales about Kalvan's near divinity were stories told by hayseeds and rubes, but there was no denying Kalvan's military muscle. If allowed the opportunity, he planned to play Kalvan off against the Temple's hated rival Styphon's House, which seemed to fear and hate Kalvan in equal proportions. Not only had Kalvan violated their greatest secret, the fireseed formula, but he had ordered Styphon's temples seized and then stolen the gold right off their roofs.

Xentos might prove useful were Kalvan to march upon Hos-Agrys. But only fools believed that Kalvan could defeat all the might of Styphon's House. Indeed, they would grind Kalvan's army like millstones, if not this year then the next. The one thing Davros did not want to do was give the Styphoni an excuse to destroy the Temple of Dralm when they drug Kalvan's battered body through the streets of the Five Kingdoms.

Davros had a very good idea of who had informed Demistophon about his presence, Archpriest Syclos of Styphon's House. The Archpriest had spies and informers everywhere.

"Yes, Your Majesty, Highpriest Xentos has come from Hostigos to attend the Council of Dralm and is staying at the High Temple."

"Why was I not informed?"

Davros picked up the anger in Demistophon's voice and paused to answer carefully. "The Temple of Dralm needs him as a witness. There is some question as to the divinity of Great King Kalvan-"

"Great King!" Demistophon had squeezed himself upright, out of the Ivory Throne, his face as red as a beet. "Do not use those words when referring to the Usurper Kalvan who has stolen his titles as well as his lands for his rightful overlord, Great King Kaiphranos. Do I make myself understood?"

Davros felt himself begin to tremble. "Yes, Your Majesty." It would not pay to anger the mercurial Demistophon too much. The King was not in full control of his emotions, or habits. He watched as the Great King paused to stuff a gooey pastry into his mouth.

"As far as Kalvan's divinity, bah! He's no more a god than I am. As long as I am Great King of Hos-Agrys, the Temple of Dralm will follow my council. Is that understood?"

"This is not a matter for mere men to decide, Your Majesty. Only the gods can reveal his divinity."

Still standing, Demistophon reached out with his hands as though he were about to strangle the highpriest. "Priest, if you continue to defy me, I will bar the doors of your Temple and put Dralm under the Ban!"

Davros stepped back and gathered his strength; he could not let Demistophon bully him. He was Highpriest of the High Temple of Agrys City, the biggest and foremost temple of Allfather Dralm in the Five Kingdoms. "That would not be a good idea, Your Majesty. A number of your princes and barons, who were not consulted about your attack upon Hostigos, have formed the League of Dralm and I am certain they would not take the closing of the High Temple quietly." Davros prepared himself for a direct assault upon his person. The two bodyguards flanking their Great King looked back and forth at each other nervously.

Instead Demistophon fell back upon his throne, and sat rubbing his eyes. When the Great King continued speaking, Davros had to step close to the throne to hear his words. "Highpriest, I do not have to make a proclamation to close the High Temple. Archpriest Syclos has offered me one million ounces of gold if I allow him the pleasure of closing its doors with Styphon's Own Temple Guard."

The thought of Styphon's Red Hand pouring into the Temple broke Davros out into a cold sweat underneath his robes. He knew his rival, Archpriest Syclos, would be more than happy to clear the Temple and arrest all the temple highpriests, himself included. "Yes, Your Majesty, Archpriest Syclos would enjoy closing our Temple, but what would the people of Agrys City do? Or the League of Dralm?"