John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

Warchief Ulldar made a barking laugh. "Spend them we will. And when they have bloodied the Daemon's army we shall set loose our wolves of war."

Great King Kalvan placed his chapped and freezing fingers as close to the cook fire as he dared. All around them were snores of sleeping soldiers, the clanking of armor and the whinnying of horses. Great King Nestros, Captain-General Harmakros, Prince Ptosphes, Duke Mnestros, the Rathoni Captain-General, General Alkides and half a dozen other members of Kalvan's general staff huddled around the small fire, framed by the rising sun. Kalvan, who had called this impromptu war council, began, "I have received word from our 'agents' among the horde. Today they will attack in force."

"But why?" Nestros asked. "We have not budged from this mountaintop for a moon quarter. Why should today be any different than any other day?"

"Because we have won the waiting game; almost a third of the horde has dispersed, deserted or just plain vanished. Warlord Sargos knows this and realizes that if he doesn't commit his troops soon he will be the warlord of all the digits on his hands and toes and not much else. Even if we had wanted to bring the war to Sargos, we couldn't have since his forces have far greater mobility and speed. Sargos has been gambling that we would make the first move; now the waiting game is over and it's his turn in the barrel. The plain truth is the horde is running out of food, out of grazing land and forage and just plain patience. Now, they will come to us on our killing field."

"At last!" Captain-General Harmakros said. "Now we can finish off these interlopers once and for all. Kill most of them and disperse the rest; they'll starve soon enough returning over the blasted lands they left behind. Maybe then we'll have time to invade Hos-Harphax before the fall rains make the roads impassable."

"No. That's not what I have in mind." Everyone drew closer to see what new rabbit Kalvan was about to draw out of his hat. "First, we are too far west to be able to return to Hostigos, raise up another force and attack Hos-Harphax with any certainty before the fall rains come. To do so, we would have to stretch our lines too thin and fight with an army that's been in the field for seven moons or better." Kalvan went on to explain the physical demands that would be placed upon the Army of the Trygath to defeat and expel the nomads, for if they retired to soon, it would hearten the nomads and they would return in force, since there were more tribes still migrating into the Upper Sastragath and Trygath territories. To then turn around a march back to Hos-Hostigos and, then, without any rest invade Hos-Harphax-would be inviting disaster, especially if the weather turned severe or Prince Lysandros managed to raise a credible force to oppose them.

"However, if we can drive the nomads against Tarr-Ceros, the Arch-priests will be shaking in their robes. They will be sending their gold and victuals to the Order, rather than to Hos-Harphax. The Inner Circle of Styphon's House knows all too well the nomads would love to pillage Hos-Ktemnos. And what is the plumpest prize in all Hos-Ktemnos: the Unholy City of Balph-right?"

There were murmurs of agreement from the assembled generals.

"Are we not agreed that the real enemy here is not these nomads and clansmen? Kalvan asked. "The clansmen are just pawns? No, our real enemy is Grand Master Soton and the Order of Zarthani Knights. It was Soton's plan to send the horde into the Trygath, to delay our attack upon Harphax City: Are we all agreed on this?"

"Your words ring with the truth," Harmakros replied. The others nodded their heads.

"Therefore, the tribesmen are not responsible for the lands they have ravaged. In truth, it is the Order-Styphon's hammer-which is responsible for their pillage and rapine."

Again, all heads nodded agreement.

"Then what could be better revenge than bringing these nomads into our camp and turning them upon the very Knights who sent them into King Nestor's realm?"

His question was greeted with a big savage grin on Harmakros' face, while Nestros displayed a lupine and toothy smile. "I like the way you think, King Kalvan," the latter said.

Kalvan grinned. "It's not going to be easy. We're going to have to defeat this bunch-and don't forget they out-number us two to one-without destroying their military effectiveness. All without taking too many casualties ourselves. Of course, we'll keep this plan to ourselves, no need in confusing the rank and file. One of our priorities will be to isolate Warlord Sargos and his top command, splitting them off from their warriors and capturing them alive-if at all possible. Without Sargos and his headmen, we will not be able to control the horde ourselves. So top priority is capturing Warlord Sargos."

"What if something happens to Sargos?" Nestros asked.

"Then forget all about turning the horde upon the Knights. Kill them all and pray to Galzar Wolfshead we don't run out of ammunition first!"

Kalvan dismounted at the top of Grax Hill. While his dignity might require meeting King Nestros on horseback, his horse required a rest. The retreat of the Hostigi Royal party from the left flank had been more speedy than dignified, over rough, muddy ground. A few of the Royal Horse Guard were still fishing themselves out from under bushes and rounding up their horses.

From the hilltop, Kalvan had his first good view of the battle in more than an hour. The nomad horde was large, maybe seventy-five to a hundred thousand warriors, a flood of men, as hard for Ranjar Sargos to direct as for Kalvan to stop. Not much had changed, and of that little for the better. The enemy's right and center, under Sargos, still overlapped the allied left. They had even advanced all the way to the redoubt on the banks of the Lydistros, now stopped among the caltrops and pitfalls, under the fire of the one four-pounder Kalvan could spare for fixed defenses.

As Kalvan watched, a large force of what appeared to be medieval cavalry out of the Thirteenth Century on otherwhen-wearing chainmail hauberks and kettle helmets-broke off from the enemy center, riding their horses into the caltrops. The screams of the falling and injured horses ripped through the air and beat on his ears. The impromptu caltrops had been welded together out of broken swords, spear points and plow blades. Before the dust settled, two regiments of mixed musketeers and arque-busier were pouring volley after volley into the stalled cavalrymen, blunting the horde's attack. Still, the horsemen drove on, over fallen comrades and horses. Already, the Hostigi musketeers were falling back to the next prepared position.

Kalvan turned to one of his messengers, pointing at the retreating musketeers. "Request Prince Ptosphes to send two companies of Mobile Force rifleman to shore up that position."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" The officer jumped onto his mount and rode off.

On the allied right, masses of horsemen, light infantry wearing boiled leather armor and chainmail, a few score fully armored knights Sargos had picked up Styphon knows where and an occasional chariot surged back and forth. Each chief was giving his own orders to his followers and taking none from anyone else, including Sargos. They were the less dangerous but more numerous part of the enemy army; roughly seventy thousand against Sargos' forty thousand, give or take a few thousand.

They faced mostly Nestros' Trygathi, eight to nine thousand heavy horse, with twice that number of supporting infantry, spearmen, swordsmen, and missile troops-crossbowmen, archers, some arquebusiers and even a few slingers. The Trygathi were stiffened by three Ulthori pike regiments, two regiments of Royal Musketeers, a brigade of riflemen and two four-pounders. Not that the Trygathi needed much stiffening; they were fighting with the knowledge that they had a chance of victory and that meanwhile their homes were safe. The alliance with Hos-Hostigos had let Nestros leave a third of his army home to make raiders a poor insurance risk. The twenty-five thousand he had on the field were his best.