John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

"Citizen Tharn, let us get to the heart of the problem. I have been one of the heads of the Organization, or Wizard Traders as the Paracops call it, for about thirty years. Don't look so shocked; I can name a dozen prominent Opposition Party members who are equally involved."

Hadron Tharn nodded, his face expressionless.

"If the Paratime Police pick me up, the lid will be blown off what's left of the Organization and the Opposition Party. Really it is in both our interests to see me disappear from Home Time-Line." Jorand saw a stealthy look slip between Warntha and his master and added, "My driver has a message ball he's to take to Verkan Vail if I don't leave this tower according to schedule."

"Where do you get these ideas?"

"Because, like you, I've found that the simplest solution to most problems is often the most elegant-in this case, my disappearance. Therefore, I've taken certain precautions, just as you would have done."

Hadron Tharn leaned back in his chair, his forehead furrowed in what appeared to be concentrated thought. He remained frozen for some time until he sat up abruptly. "I don't have as much access to Paratemporal Transposition as you seem to think, but we do have one operation where you might fit in."

During the height of the Wizard Trader's operation, Jorand would have had his choice of thousands of time-lines to hide on, but now he was forced to take whatever crumb Tharn threw his way. At best it was a vast improvement over psycho-rehabilitation, a year of unremitting physical and mental agony, the ignominy of having his private thoughts probed and twisted by Mentalists and finally the horror of emerging as someone who would not be Jorand Rarth.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You've heard of Kalvan's Time-Line?"

"Who hasn't? We've talked this time-line to death at the Action Meetings. What about it?"

"Kalvan's Time-Line has become Verkan's major political vulnerability, one the Opposition Party intends to exploit. One way we can force Verkan's hand is by making life difficult for his outtime friend, Great King Kalvan. If things get sticky enough for Kalvan, Verkan might commit a breach of the Paratime Code-and then we will have him."

Right, thought Jorand, a scandal big enough to break Management Party's stranglehold on the Executive Council. Sweeping reforms inside the Paratime Police would help many of the commercial houses who felt constrained in their theft of outtime resources. It was enough to make an honest thief wonder who the real crooks were.

"So where do I fit into all of this?"

Hadron Tharn leaned forward, locking eyes. "Rarth, I could use a trusted agent I can send to Kalvan's Time-Line to oversee a very important operation. Last year was a very good one for King Kalvan. He defeated probably the largest army in his time-line's history. Now he's built up his army to the point where only the most concerted effort will root him out of his so-called Great Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos.

"Fortunately for us, the opposition has some good leaders, Archpriest Roxthar, Prince Lysandros of Hos-Harphax, and Grand Master Soton of the Zarthani Knights. They are planning a major counter-attack, but need help. Kalvan has either killed or recruited most of the available mercenaries in the Five Kingdoms and the national armies aren't that strong yet on this time-line.

"But the picture isn't all bad. On the west coast there are a number of city-states who have built up formidable armies after a millennium of constant warfare. Now, for the first time in centuries, they have a great leader in one of the city-states, Antiphon. A leader who has become strong enough to conquer most of the others. The problem is that he is unstable and unpredictable, more a Hitler than an Alexander. Like Hitler, this leader-Dyzar-suffered from an untreated case of syphilis, which has left him with delusions of grandeur, a homicidal temper, and massive mood swings-"

Jorand stifled a grin as he realized that this description might equally cover Hadron Tharn himself, who on occasion had been known to scream and berate his cohorts for hours. "What do you mean, suffered?"

"A month ago my agents used a neuro-prophylactic on Dyzar and were able to stabilize his condition. Due to the primitive conditions, the advanced stage of the disease, and the lack of a fully trained medico, they were not able to restore normal emotional functions. In the end they were forced to use the rejuvenation treatment to insure he survived the treatment. Dyzar should live a long and painful life."

"You used rejuvenation formula on an outtimer! Next to the Paratime Secret that's the most heavily guarded invention we have. We could all be brain wiped for this-"

Hadron Tharn smiled a most unpleasant smile. "That is why we need an agent of utmost discretion for this job. One who will not be particular about a lengthy and somewhat primitive assignment."

And someone very expendable, thought Jorand to himself. Unfortunately, for him, there were no other choices. "What is it you want me to do?"

"First, we will put you under narco-hypnosis and give you a pseudo-memory overlay as a Dorg merchant-they're not well known in the Five Kingdoms. Then we will put you in charge of the contact team that is to meet and lead the Ros-Zarthani army. We want you to prepare the Ros-Zarthani for their role in the war against King Kalvan."

"Why not," Jorand answered. It wasn't as if he had any place else to go.

Knight Sergeant Sarmoth, wearing his black tunic with Styphon's broken sun-wheel over his breast, stood outside Grand Master Soton's large tent, which held the Grand Master's maps and impressive personal armory. He was waiting for the wounded oath-brother, who had stumbled into camp two candles ago, to be brought back from the infirmary tent for questioning.

Soton was inside eating his dinner. Usually he ate with the Brethren, unlike many of his fellow commanders in the Order, Soton didn't require a special kitchen or household staff, but tonight he was eating alone. It was said that soldiers under Grand Master's personal command always had the best mess of the Order. In his six moons with the Grand Master, Sarmoth would have to agree. He knew it was not at the Grand Master command, but because the cooks wanted to make a good impression upon their commanding officer. Having watched Soton eat, he was convinced it was wasted effort-the Grand Master had no taste for anything but strategy and war.

At last, the wounded oath-brother, his head swaddled in white wrappings and supported by two soldiers, was brought to the tent.

Sarmoth led the small party inside, where Soton was seated at a desk going over maps by candlelight and smoking his pipe. His plate, still full, sat neglected by a brace of pistols. Soton's expression was grim; the northernmost expeditionary party was still a half moon overdue and a lone oath-brother from the party had just stumbled into camp, suffering from a serious head wound and dehydration.

The oath-brother was still winded, but he was able to croak out slowly. "We found the Daemon Kalvan…" He coughed, spitting blood on the hard-packed earth floor. "His army is here!"

Soton's face blanched. Sarmoth was unable to believe his ears; the latest reports had Kalvan's army still inside the border of Hostigos-outside Kyblos City. Of course, that report was more than two evenings old, not considering the moon-quarter it took for the scouts to come and go. Still, the Daemon Kalvan would have had to have grown wings and taken flight to reach the Sastragath so quickly.

"Are you sure it was Kalvan?"

"We were chasing a band of Sastragathi warriors…" The oath-brother paused to catch his breath. "When we entered a valley-" He paused to cough and went into a series of wrenching spasms. When his chest stopped heaving, he spoke again, "Kalvan and his troops fell upon us. They had the Hostigos flag and were wearing red and blue colors. Who else could it be, Grand Master?" The oath-brother shook his head wearily.