John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

Kalvan laughed. "He got lots of practice last spring shooting at Sty-phon's soldiers." His smile disappeared. "I wanted to talk to you about the Sastragathi tribesmen, since you're the only person, besides Captain General Harmakros and General Baldour-and he's from Hos-Ktemnos, not the Sastragath-who has any knowledge of them."

Tortha's face grew grim. "There are almost as many tribes and clans as there are different kinds of trees in your woods. Xiphlon has been fighting them since the first wooden wall was put up, about one day after we arrived at the mouth of the Great River! I do know this; the Sastragathi tribesman can fight like cornered wolverines, but-fortunately for us-they fight as individuals not as an army. They have very little discipline and their leadership goes from inspired to hide-bound, depending on each clans' warlord. Fortunately, for Hostigos, they rarely leave the Upper Sastragath."

"They have now. We got word after you left: the first tribes have already entered the Trygath. The rumors tell us that they are being burned out of their hunting grounds and huts by the Order of Zarthani Knights."

"Phew!" Tortha mocked wiping his forehead. "For the last several hundred years the Order has been all that's come between the teaming clans and the Five Kingdoms. I don't know what you did to provoke Grand Master Soton Your Majesty, but he's after your hide!"

"We pretty much ground up four or five of his Lances last spring."

"That'll do it. Soton's not much of an infantryman, but he's the best cavalry officer this side of the Great River. If he's aiming to drive the nomads into the Northern Kingdoms-and, by what you've just told me, I'd say that's exactly what he's doing-you're going to have an invasion the likes of which the Northern Kingdoms have never known!"

"That's what I was afraid of, Tortha. Here's my problem." Kalvan liked the way Trader Tortha leaned forward, giving him his full and undivided attention. He used to be able to talk like this with Verkan and Prince Ptosphes, before the Prince took a licking at Tenabra. He'd missed it, too. It was nice to have someone to bounce military strategy off of, besides Rylla, again. He didn't always like telling her his plans, because she wanted to take charge, with an emphasis on charge! "We've got a once-in-a-life-time opportunity to conquer Hos-Harphax and put her under our rule. The new Captain-General, a former mercenary, is rebuilding the Royal Army, pretty much from scratch. If we hit them now, we can go straight to Harphax City and blow the walls down-which I hear could barely stand a good sneeze-and be out in a moon-half. Then we could take the individual princedoms-those that didn't surrender-in detail.

"My question is: Can we afford a two front war, with the nomads in back and the Royal Army of Hos-Harphax at the front?"

Trader Tortha grimaced and said, "You might find yourself with a third front, with the Knights attacking from Hos-Ktemnos again."

"No. The Knights are busy driving the nomads and Great King Cleitharses is still licking his wounds. It'll be a two front war-this spring. I just want to know if you think we might be stretching our forces too thin?"

Tortha paused to drain his goblet of winter wine and pulled out his pipe. As he was loading it with tobacco from his red suede pouch, with the insignia of a golden fish, he said, "I am honored that the Great King seeks my council. And, I fear, I may be giving him advice he would rather not hear. Shall I continue?"

Kalvan nodded; he had been afraid of this.

"If the nomads and Sastragathi clans are both being driven into your backyard, you are going to have a big problem. You could be invaded by anywhere between a quarter of a million to a million human locust who will eat, steal and destroy everything they touch! Now, King Nestros of the Trygath has his city walls-mostly patterned after Xiphlon's own, but much smaller-which have kept the nomads at bay for the last hundred years. Rathon City will hold, but most of the smaller towns and villages will be destroyed. When he opens his gates, it will be to a desert. His barons will turn on him like a pack of wolves.

"The most likely situation is that the nomads will stay there and use the Trygath as a base of operations to make raids on the border princedoms of Hos-Hostigos and Hos-Agrys. This means your border princes will be howling to the gods like coyotes-a small wolf which lives in the Sea of Grass. You will be forced to send a dozen armies to chase light cavalrymen who will disappear before their eyes. If Nestor comes out from behind his walls, you will have to guard his back and your back, as well. It's a job that would keep an army twice the size of the Hostigos Royal Army busy day and night.

"If this happens, the clansmen will gather in force and sow terror and destruction upon your kingdom like no one has seen for two hundred years! Every farmer, every trapper, every hunter, every trader will have to stay behind your walls or risk death-and their families, too. The best strategy would be to raise the largest army, with as many of your liegemen as you can gather, then rise up and strike the nomads before they have established themselves within the Trygath, or worse-within your own borders!"

"Now, what's the good news?"

"There isn't any. You have to destroy this horde before it cleans you out of Hos-Hostigos like a wave of wolves!" Tortha leaned back and puffed on his pipe. "Maybe you can send them back to Soton with a Name Day ribbon on them. That's what I'd be thinking about doing."

"I have read of such nomad armies in the chronicles. Tortha, you have given me much to think about. It's time to call another Council of War, but I fear it won't be about just the war we were planning to fight."

Jorand Rarth pushed his chair back, to ease his bulging belly, and listened with pleasure to the jingle and clang of the slot machines in the front room. The slots were a recent import from Fourth Level, Europo-American Sector and they were proving to be-as had so many other Europo-American imports-a great hit. He estimated the average take was up fifteen percent at all three of his Dhergabar clubs since their introduction. He was going to have to import more and send them to his other clubs outside the capital before one of the other Bosses got the same idea.

While the Bureau of Psychological Hygiene saw gambling and playing games of chance as evidence of an anti-social character, gambling itself was not strictly illegal. To a society that liked to see itself as free of pre-literate and pseudo-scientific superstition, it was a social embarrassment-a continuing reminder of the irrationality of human nature. As such, Psych-Hygiene agents liked to keep records on those who frequented gambling dens.

In an ongoing attempt to protect customer anonymity, the gambling syndicates carefully guarded the location of their clubs, moved them around at irregular intervals and paid large sums of hush money to certain captains in the Dhergabar Metropolitan Police Department.

Jorand needed to talk to his contacts at Tharmax Trading right away about acquiring more slot machines. It didn't help that they were quasi-illegal on most Europo-American Subsectors, either. If Paratime Police Chief Verkan Vail hadn't been monitoring that Sector so vigilantly, Jorand would have solved his problem very simply. He would have run a big conveyer into one of the Fourth Level slot machine factories, taken all the trained mechanics and setup men, blown a gas main under the old factory and then sent them across time to an uninhabited Fifth Level time-line where he would have set up his own slot machine business.

Making them was clearly not as easy as hijacking them, but then slot machines were not as easy to obtain outtime as Fourth Level jukeboxes or Second Level subliminal hormone exciters. Plus, by using slave labor, the syndicate could save a lot of credits as well as create a dependable supply base-one not dependent upon outtime politics and Paratime Police good will to operate. Wars and revolutions had a nasty way of mucking up supply and delivery, especially when they splashed over whole subsectors, containing hundreds of millions of time-lines.