John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

He felt his pulse race as he anticipated tonight's purse. His pay chest had been depleted by the Daemon's War and what remained had been quickly emptied re-fitting his troopers, reimbursing their pay chits and mustering them out for the winter. He'd had little enough gold left to do anything more than see after his own lodging. To return the Iron Band to its former strength would take more than one purse of gold, but it was a start. Harphax City was filled to the bursting with returning soldiers and captain-less mercenaries.

The parchment telling him to meet with Count Sestembar had been welcome indeed, despite the half-moon long journey with a merchants' caravan through inhospitable weather. At least the squad had received a small purse of silver as payment, earning it twice over when highwaymen sprung an ambush. Phidestros still grinned at their dismay when they learned it was the Iron Band, not some gaggle of unemployed mercenaries, they were crossing swords with. The roads were no longer safe since the war, with too many soldiers without captains, and peasants without farms or hope.

He hoped there would be enough gold so he could re-outfit the Iron Band for next spring's campaigns. War with Hos-Hostigos was as certain now as the morning sun. With Hos-Harphax in the middle of a succession crisis and the army demoralized, there was little to keep Great King Kalvan from storming Harphax City itself.

While Styphon's Own Paymasters had indeed paid off the survivor's of Grand Master Soton's army, contrary to rumor, they had not been generous with their gold. With no battlefield loot or ransom, there was little left for any captain's pay chest. Many companies, even those with long serving captains, had been forced to disperse. If Phidestros could obtain a good purse, there would be no problem next year in raising a full muster. He was sure Styphon's pay chests would be overflowing gold this spring now that Kalvan had defeated the Holy Host and was calling himself a Great King. Having been within spear throwing distance of Kalvan, Phidestros was certain the man was no demon, just a good soldier and a great captain; a man, had circumstances been different, that Phidestros would be proud to serve under. If the truth were to be known, he had little love for the flinty-eyed priests of the fireseed god, Styphon. But their gold was pure and there was plenty of it.

His sword-hardened fist pounded on the door. Count Sestembar, little changed except for his baldpate, gestured for him to enter the furnished room, pointing out a high-backed chair for him to sit in. Phidestros could remember when that chair had loomed so much larger. The room had changed in some subtle fashion and his eye quickly added up the contents: the maple desk at which the Count was now sitting, a large cupboard and two chests. All stoutly made of quality walnut, he had worked similar wood as a boy. Everything was the same as always except for the wine-red curtain at the back corner of the room. Had his father finally decided Phidestros' reputation was too tarnished to bear, and planted an assassin to see he was removed from the family's list?

Phidestros casually splayed out his right leg and gently rested his hand on his sword's basket hilt. Should the pistol misfire, with Galzar's help, he would give no man time for a second shot.

Count Sestembar opened, "Even here in Zygros City we have heard of the battlefield exploits of Grand-Captain Phidestros."

Phidestros watched Sestembar's eyes to see if they matched his words. The Count appeared to be speaking sincerely. He swallowed and attempted to relax. "Thank you, my lord. I hope what you have heard has been pleasing to your ears."

"We have long waited for such success for our Grace's son, and it appears our patience has been rewarded. You have done no worse, and far better, than most in the Holy Host."

Phidestros slowly began to uncoil. "I was fortunate to have good soldiers in my employ."

"To survive three battles with the man called The Daemon by the Temple of Styphon takes more than good soldiers or even good fortune. It takes a good commander. One, who having fought the new King of Hos-Hostigos more than any commander yet alive, is now in position to have learned more about his military leadership and strategy than any man in the Five Kingdoms."

Phidestros relaxed a little more, feeling kindly disposed towards Sestembar for failing to mention that the three battles against Great King Kalvan had been losses not victories.

"Now," Count Sestembar announced, "I've got someone who wants to meet you and share your knowledge of the man who has appointed himself the first new Great King in over two hundred years."

The velvet curtains parted and out stepped a tall, long-boned aristocrat, who looked vaguely familiar. The gunmetal blue beard was well trimmed and shot with silver; the aquiline nose looked like the twin to his. Of course, you idiot! It's the same nose you see every morning in your metal looking-piece when you trim your beard.

Count Sestembar bowed, saying, "Grand-Captain Phidestros, I would like you to meet your father, the Grand Duke Eudocles of the First House of Hos-Zygros."

Phidestros attempted to rise too quickly and almost tripped over his scabbard.

The Grand Duke motioned with his hand that he should remain seated. "Let me look at you, son. Sestembar, you've been telling me the truth; he does look to be my spitting image-when I was younger, of course. But broader in the shoulders and thicker in limb. Much as I might have been had I lived by the sword rather than by the throne."

"I… I… I'm pleased to meet you, Your Grace," Phidestros mumbled. His father was the Grand Duke of all Hos-Zygros, the only living brother to Great King Sopharar. Never in his wildest imaginings-even as a child-had he dared dream of a father sitting so high!

"I must apologize, my son, for the delay at our meeting. But, as you can guess, there are certain political realities that have precluded me from claiming you as my son, or even sharing my knowledge with you. There are men here in Zygros City and elsewhere that might well have profited greatly from that knowledge, or even have tried to harm me through you. The burdens of office and kinship weigh heavily upon our family."

"Of course, Your Grace, and I thank you for your kindness all these years," Phidestros answered, his wits and tongue finally untied. Yes, you old fox, you had plenty of reasons for not letting the world know your by-blow was waiting in the wings. Until the right moment, of course, when said bastard can repay some of his long-standing debt.

"Since the miraculous arrival a few years ago of the Dralm-sent, or Ormaz-spawned Kalvan-depending upon who you listen to-our kingdoms have seen more warfare than at any time in the previous fifty years. With both Styphon's House and the new League of Dralm clamoring for Zygrosi support, we must know more about this man who claims for himself the title of Great King of Hos-Hostigos. Is he a demon, a demi-god-or just a mere mortal? Is he a friend to our House, or an enemy? Will he attempt to raise himself up to be King of Great Kings, as some princes fear, or will he be content with his present crown and lands in Hos-Hostigos? These are just some of the questions that need answering, my son."

Phidestros noticed the coin-sized cold spot under his lower rib that he always felt when facing off against a dangerous adversary. Now he knew the reason behind the long-delayed father and son reunion. He'd had the misfortune-probably the wrong word since he had survived and learned more about Kalvan's tactics than anyone outside Hos-Hostigos-to be bested by the most feared man alive in three different battles.

The question now was how much should he, could he, tell this man who'd never had the time to greet him until now-when it was worth his while? Yes, worth Eudocles while it may well be, but the real question was: Was it worth his while? To feign ignorance of Kalvan would gain him little, and probably cost him a fat purse. A well-crafted answer, however, might raise his value in his father's eyes and possibly lead to future opportunities within Hos-Zygros. A barony, or even a princedom, was not an unknown reward for a valuable son from the left side of the badge. He wondered how word of his parentage might rattle the Inner Circles of the upper priesthood in Balph.