John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

Anaxthenes noticed the other archpriests were sitting taller in their seats, watching him with interest. Maybe all was not lost. As Thessamona had said, Roxthar could never rule the Temple. Sesklos was only a winter or two away from his last breath. Who else was there to lead the Temple? This was a perfect opportunity to rally his supporters and show the Inner Circle that Roxthar did not yet own Styphon's House.

"I, First Speaker, move that this Proclamation be denied. I will vote nay. Who will join me?"

"Halt!" Roxthar's voice shattered the air. "Styphon's Own Guard only exists to serve Styphon's Will and Styphon's Will is that my Investigators root out all priests guilty of heresy and disbelief in the True and Only God-Styphon, Be Praised!"

Every archpriest in the Great Hall turned and looked away from each other's eyes. In Roxthar's own words they were all guilty. Anaxthenes felt a flutter of hope inside his chest. The Investigator had gone too far this time. Did he not truly realize they were all unbelievers?

"Earlier, did not Archpriest Dracar say, it was Styphon's Will that we gather the Temple's gold and fireseed to defeat the Usurper Kalvan? The Kalvan who stole our Fireseed Mystery and 'gave' it to every bandit and horse thief in the Five Kingdoms! I say Styphon's Will is fighting the Holy War against the Infidel Kalvan and the Rogue Princedom of Hostigos. Not Investigating Styphon's Own priests."

Anaxthenes looked into each and every archpriest's face. They were coming around. Starting to realize that if they gave Roxthar and his faction any more power, someday it would be the Inner Circle that would be Investigated. And, only one archpriest-other than Roxthar-would survive that purge, Cimon the Peasant Priest.

"Again, I, First Speaker, move that this Proclamation be denied. I will vote nay. Who will join me?"

There was a moment of stunned silence, then a sudden babble of voices, then dozens of heads slowly nodding affirmation. There were many who voted aye, but enough who voted nay to doom the proclamation. Roxthar himself gave a look to Anaxthenes that would have turned his flesh into stone had Roxthar been a god. This was Roxthar's first defeat since his rise; he hoped that it would not be the last.

"So be it, the Proclamation has been denied. The Council's will has spoken, Praise Styphon!"

The world had just tilted and nothing would ever be the same. Anaxthenes dismissed the Council for the day, and surely and steadily walked past Archpriest Roxthar. It was a small victory, but a needed one to maintain what little was left of his self-respect and the Temple's independence.

Accompanied by Xykos and his aide, Colonel Krynos, Kalvan rode his horse through the mild winter snow to the University. Xykos knocked at the plank door and announced his presence. Ramakros, the big Hostigi Uncle Wolf, with dark brown hair and Indian skin-tone-evidence that Erasthames the Great had not killed all the Indians, or Ruthani as they were called here-and-now, in the northeast-opened the portal. "Come in, Your Majesty."

There was a roaring fire in the big stone hearth and Kalvan greeted it like a long lost lover. It was near freezing outside and an hour horseback ride had left him chilled, despite his silver-fox fur cloak and warm undergarments.

"Your Majesty, I'm sorry, but Rector Mytron is no longer here to greet you. He is in Hostigos Town at the Temple. He left several days ago. He is studying under Patriarch Xentos for his position as Highpriest of the Hos-Hostigos Temple of Dralm."

"I know Ramakros. Bring Master Ermut, unless he's asleep."

"Ermut sleep-that one! No, he says he still has three years of slavery to make up for before he spends more than a few hours a night in his bed. I'll get him. Is it about the glass?"

"No. We have other matters to discuss." It was amazing how scientific and scholarly thought brought out the egalitarian instinct in people who formerly hadn't even known the meaning of the word. The hierarchy of the University was really quite simple; those with knowledge and learning were the aristocrats. And anyone with brains, who aspired to find truth and the mysteries of the universe, could join the faculty and reach their own level of excellence. He wondered when it was that universities back on otherwhen stopped operating on that level, and instead became hotbeds of academic intrigue.

While he was waiting for Ermut, Artillery Captain Waklos came over to the hearth and started talking enthusiastically about his attempts to master and teach Morse Code. "It's not all that difficult, Your Majesty, it's just that it requires a new way of seeing words."

"Yes, it's called substitution. As the runes form written words, the dots and dashes form traveling words."

"Traveling words-I like that, Your Majesty. I will use that with my next class."

"Oh, Thalmoth has you teaching now?" Captain Waklos had been one of Brigadier-General Alkides under officers before he'd surrendered to the army of Hostigos last year-or was it the year before last.

Note: reform the Zarthani calendar.

"Oh yes, Master Thalmoth says his most important job is to be there at the birthing of new guns at the Royal Foundry."

"How does he get along with the Zygrosi foundry workers, Waklos?" Kalvan asked, wondering if Thalmoth was becoming a nuisance. He couldn't afford to alienate his Zygrosi specialists, until he'd trained several more crews; one of the reasons he wanted the Nostor Royal Foundry started right away.

"Quite well. They appear not to enjoy firing the guns and are quite happy to let Master Thalmoth shoot them to his heart's content. I fear he's not as impressed with the Zygrosi workers themselves; he says they argue in their tongue all the time. The women, too, take liberties with the male servants and treat men of lower class as lesser beings. He thinks they all need a good beating! Well, not all of them, he speaks fondly of the red-haired lady-Sirna, I believe she is called. And the other one that rides horses all the time."

"I hope he keeps this to himself, as all those ladies are part of the Royal Household."

"Oh, yes. When they talk loudly to him, Thalmoth pretends not to understand. Now, they treat him as a dumb beast, who has listened to too many guns, which he much prefers to their full attention and bad humor!"

They both laughed. "Thalmoth must have a wife somewhere."

"Oh, yes. He married late, a few years ago. His wife lived in Hostigos Town. She ran off with a cavalry officer during one of his terms of service. Master Thalmoth still says it was the best thing that ever happened to him, saying she only married him for a trip to Agrys City!"

"Fortunately, he does love his guns. I suspect he would court a Sastragathi fire-walker, if she brought him a brass twenty-pounder!"

"Oh yes," Waklos said, laughing. "They would both have much in common!

"How is the semaphore project coming along?"

"Captain Nathros is still out in Beshta scouting out where to locate the signal towers. He left me in charge, while he's away," Waklos said proudly. "He would love to perform miracles and have the towers built before spring, but the early snowfall has made this impossible. And we will need at least fifteen hands worth of signalmen, and I'm still training the second class. I have two students who are already proficient in the code and I will use them for the next round of classes."

"Good. I knew it would have taken Dralm's Own Miracle to have the semaphore to the Harphaxi border ready before the beginning of campaign season, but we should have at least the branch to Beshta complete by next winter." Kalvan had meant to build the semaphore posts the year before, but didn't have the trained men to oversee the prisoners-of-war building the Great Kings Road, teach the codes and build the semaphore stations.