John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

"I should keep my own council, but this concerns your fate as well as mine. You have saved my life in battle many times, and I have felt sick at heart with all that I have had to keep to myself."

"I have only saved your life, as you have saved my own."

"True, we have known each other far too long to hold secrets. Besides, you will need to know these things-if only to protect yourself. I will not live forever, or even tomorrow if some barbarian's arrow pierces my armor. Investigator Roxthar holds the entire city of Balph in his thrall-"

"So I've heard. What does that have to do with the Order?"

Soton grimaced. "Everything. What you don't know is that Roxthar now pulls the strings of the Inner Circle."

"Axchpriest Anaxthenes would never allow-"

"Anaxthenes, like many others, has no choice but to submit to the Investigator. Those who oppose Roxthar vanish into the bowels of the Investigation, never to return. Roxthar has cooked up some deal with Sesklos where Roxthar cannot Investigate the Inner Circle, but that has not stayed his hands from their allies and minions. With Sesklos and Dracar's support, Investigator Roxthar has overcome most of the opposition. Only Anaxthenes dares oppose him-for now. Those who don't fear Roxthar, fear Styphon's Own Guard who have become the Investigation's other hand."

"Truly. Is it that bad?"

Soton looked up, his eyes hard. "Nay, it is worse."

"How could it be?"

"Roxthar has records on many of the Order's commanders and leaders; records that could prove blasphemy to Styphon-at least, in his hands. You know, words spoken out of turn or in the heat of battle. He even has your own criticism of the Inner Circle. Taken out of context," Soton paused to make washing movements with his hands, "they could lead to a charge of treason."

"What? I've devoted my life to Styphon's work. More than any temple rat-"

"See! Such words are but fireseed for Roxthar's guns. He could use them to have you thrown out of the Order, purged of your priestly rank and even Investigated. Such were his words to me…"

"So, you bent your knees to that madman because of me! Why don't we turn this army around and march on Balph. We have the Order with us; they will willingly follow you anywhere, Grand Master. We can purge the Temple of this wharf-rat Roxthar, and fumigate the Inner Circle as well!"

"You scare me as much as Roxthar, with your loose tongue, old friend! You have lost sight of the forest. What will Kalvan and his minions do while we kill priests at Balph? And, do you think Styphon's Own Guard will sit idly by as we kill the Investigators and corrupt priests-or those we think corrupt? The Temple Bands will die to the last man before they see us sack Balph. And what about the Sacred Squares of Hos-Ktemnos?"

Aristocles felt his mouth twist into a smile. "But what a war. We could sow the fields of Hos-Ktemnos with the bones of Styphon's Red Hand, as well as Roxthar's Holy Investigators. We could arrive before they would have time to muster the Sacred Squares."

"Many are true-believers. I could not in good conscience kill those who fight for Styphon's House. What would the Temple have to say about such foul infamy from its Own Holy Order, dedicated to protect its lands? Sometimes I think this Kalvan has infected more than Hostigos with his new ways and constant questioning of everything we hold true and dear."

"I'm sorry," Aristocles said. To himself he added, but your heart is too soft, old friend, and you do not have the friends in Balph you like to think you do. Sometimes I fear you take this Styphon worship as serious as some ignorant village lower priest; it may turn out to be your downfall. Aristocles had spent two years at Balph and had learned first hand that the only true believers of Styphon were those who did not live in that foul cesspool of a city, ripe with priestly intrigue and corruption. Unlike Soton, he was from Ktemnos City and his father was a baron, who had chosen the Order as a good place for a younger son. At the time, he had been thankful his father hadn't decided that he needed a priest in the family! No one he knew had believed in Styphon, especially the priests. Soton's devotion to the Temple had always been hard to accept in a man so practical in all other things. Soton had not been as blessed by the Temple as he thought; the Grand Master had forged his own destiny with his iron will and by the strength of his mace.

"The more they feed Roxthar, the bigger he will grow."

Soton nodded wearily. "This is what I fear. Where will his Investigation wander next-into our own ranks?" He slammed the table, buckling it with a hand as hard as horn from decades of sword practice.

Sergeant Sarmoth stuck his white face into the tent. "Is all well, Grand Master?"

"Yes, this is none of your concern. Go back to your cot!"

Sarmoth looked stricken, but quickly closed the flap.

"See, I take it out on everyone. My sworn duty as an Archpriest of the Temple is to protect Styphon's House. It is not my job to cleanse the Temple."

Aristocles wisely kept his mouth shut. If someone inside the Temple doesn't do it, then an interloper such as Kalvan would! Roxthar was going too far with his 'purges' and his personal crusade to remove all non-believers. Where would it end? When Styphoris House was as full of mealy-mouthed priests, as the Temple of Dralm? He spat on the floor.

None of the forts and towns Kalvan had encountered in the Trygath had prepared him for the sight of Rathon City. Unlike the wooden stockades and palisades surrounding most Trygathi towns, Rathon City was encircled by immense stonewalls-about the size of the Great Wall of China-which dwarfed the outbuildings and storehouses that had sprung up at their base. Not even the Eastern Kingdom capitals had such massive stone bulwarks, but then they were not subjected to periodic nomad invasions and large-scale migrations.

The Great Gate was large too, wide enough so that four of the Conestoga-style wagons could pass abreast. Most of the city's two and three-story buildings were the usual beam and plaster construction. At the city's center were a score of large public buildings constructed of stone, half of which appeared to have been built within the past decade.

Kalvan figured the city's population at about seventy-five thousand: smaller than a comparable Eastern Kingdom capital, but impressive for a so-called 'barbarian' capital city. Most of the people he saw in the streets wore homespun trousers and shirts, although there was a goodly number of hunters and trappers in furs and buckskins. There was a small sprinkling of nobles and merchant princes, resplendent in fur-lined velvet or corduroy robes and rich brocades. The men, with few exceptions, wore full beards, rather than the trimmed beards and goatees worn in the East.

Kalvan suspected that being in Rathon City was like visiting one of the Great Kingdom capitals two or three hundred years ago.

At the center of the city was a great plaza, at least two-city blocks square. At the center, surrounded by a magnificent garden, towered King Nestros' palace; a magnificent building that made Kalvan's own 'palace' (actually Prince Ptosphes' summer palace) look like a poor relation's summer home. When this Great Murthering War with Styphon's House was over, Kalvan was going to build himself a palace more suitable to his station-maybe something along the lines of Louis XIV's Palace of Versailles-or he was going to have problems maintaining the respect of despots like Nestros.

Half a dozen richly dressed ambassadors came to meet the Hostigi party at the garden gates. Kalvan noticed that all of Nestros' retainers had their beards cut and trimmed in the Eastern fashion. To either side of the road leading to his palace stood the King's Guard, infantry men all over six foot, with finely engraved ceremonial halberds and black and gold armor. Two dozen of the Guard formed an honor guard at the head of a big procession, which led the visitors through the center of Rathon City to the palace.