John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

Kalvan nodded. "Follow this man, Colonel Democriphon. He will take you where you can get your wounds treated and find food."

Kalvan looked back at the battlefield and turned to Colonel Krynos, saying, "It's time to end this slaughter. Sound the horns!"

Krynos raised his saber, the prearranged signal, and the great Zarthani horns sounded a loud melancholy bellow. The Royal Army's advance came to a quick halt. Nestros' men, on the other hand, acted as if they hadn't heard the horns and started after the tribesmen. Kalvan had prepared for this eventuality and gave Colonel Krynos an order for General Alkides.

Meanwhile, Kalvan worked his way over to his King Nestros, who was still fighting a body of nomads. His bodyguards had to wield pistol butts and the flat side of their swords to get their Rathoni allies out of their Great King's way.

Although Kalvan knew the best advice on the battlefield was to prepare for the unexpected, the sight of his Royal Page mounted on a huge black destrier-that would have done King Nestros proud-and pushing his way through Nestros soldiers with his sword raised-was one that caused him to rein his horse to a dead stop. Aspasthar's face broke into a smile as he spotted his king and rode determinedly to his Great King's side.

"Prince Ptosphes sent me, Your Majesty!" the page said quickly.

Kalvan bit back a sarcastic reply and said, "What news do you bring, Aspasthar?"

"They've captured the Warlord! He has a bad head wound. I think he's going to die!"

"Take me to him."

Moments later the air was split by the sound of half a dozen cannons simultaneously firing round shot over the heads of the Rathoni Army. In the moment of absolute silence that followed this unexpected display, the horns bellowed again. This time the Rathoni Army came to an abrupt halt.

Ranjar Sargos awoke with the sense that a blacksmith was driving a chisel into the side of his head. He stifled a groan and tried to reach for the pain. It was then Sargos discovered his hands were bound.

Before he could voice his outrage, he heard Althea's voice cry out, "Is this honor-to treat a warrior like a rebellious slave?"

He tried to agree with her words. From the blank looks on the faces around him, he suspected he had croaked like a frog.

Althea shouted and cradled his head in her lap. He noticed a bloodstained bandage on her head and remembered the wound she had taken at her hairline.

A face Sargos remembered thrust itself forward, and the others gave way to either side. It was the last face he had seen before the chariot had been hit, when what seemed a thunderbolt crashed into the side of his head and flung him from the saddle.

"Ranjar Sargos! I am King Nestros. Who has bound you?"

"No one, Your Grace," a gray bearded man said.

"Captain-General Mylissos, he did not bind his own hands!" snarled the man, who must be King Nestros. Nestros drew a fine, if somewhat mud-specked dagger, from his riding boots, knelt and cut Sargos' bonds with his own hands.

"I trust your honor as I would my own or Great King Kalvan's," Nestros said. "You led your men most valiantly to the end, but the gods' favor was not with you. Yet if you are willing, you may win more in defeat than you could have gained by victory."

Althea said, "Only the gods could turn our defeat into a victory, and I see none on this field."

Sargos shook his head; it seemed to Sargos that King Nestros was talking in riddles. Beyond him a tall man in fine armor stood, smoking a pipe and nodding slowly. What victory could come out of such a loss as this? His mouth felt as though it were full of ashes and his head banged like a drumhead being beaten upon by one of Tymannes medicine men.

"Kalvan?" Sargos asked, pointing toward the man smoking a pipe. Nestros nodded.

So they have both come to gloat. No, that is not true. Nestros was truly angry with those who dishonored me.

"I have fallen, and doubtless those around me," Sargos said. "That does not mean victory for you or defeat for me."

Althea, who stood tall and proud as ever, nodded her agreement with his words.

"Your men from here to the redoubt are trapped against the Lydistros River," Kalvan said. "The rest are fleeing. We have let them go in peace. We still could pursue them, as wolves pursue rabbits."

Sargos turned his head slowly to Althea. "Is this true?"

She nodded. "The horde has broken. Kalvan shot his cannon at his own troops to stop their advance! I would not have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. He is a man of his word."

King Kalvan moved closer, saying, "Warlord Sargos, if you will sit down with us and discuss peace, We shall continue to hold our pursuit and spare your warriors. Otherwise, the Sastragath and the Sea of Grass alike will be lands of widows and orphans."

If he lies, he does so well. Althea can be trusted, but she may be hostage to my life. She would lie to save me. If Kalvan is telling the truth, he can be trusted… But I must see for myself.

Sargos tried to rise. He not only failed, but also would have fallen if Nestros and Kalvan both had not aided him.

To take healing from one's enemies is a sign of submission. Yet if submitting will save those who swore to follow me…?

"Can you summon a healer and a horse? If I see with my own eyes what you have told me, then we shall talk." Althea came to him offering her shoulder as a crutch.

The two kings nodded as if their heads were on a single neck.

Kalvan stepped out of the royal tent and nearly stumbled over Aspasthar. The boy woke up with a squeak of panic.

"Your Majesty!"

"Aspasthar, sleeping on watch is still a serious offense. Even after doing so well in your first battle."

"Your Majesty, I beg forgiveness. But my father came by and said he would watch in my place. He-" A rumbling snore interrupted the page.

Kalvan looked into the shadows on the other side of the tent door and saw Harmakros curled up under a blanket, even more soundly asleep than his son. Making sure that the armed sentries were all in place, Kalvan ducked back into his tent, burrowed into his piled baggage, and came out with a jug of Ermut's Best.

By the time he came out his unofficial 'sentries' were awake. "Thanks for coming, both of you," Kalvan said. "I feel like celebrating, but I didn't want to drink alone."

"What about our friend and ally, Great King Nestros?" Harmakros asked.

"Please," Kalvan said. "Remember when I said it was all over but the shouting? I didn't know what I was saying. A discreet whisper for both Nestros and Sargos is what you would use for drilling a whole regiment! I'd be as deaf as a gunner if we had any more private sessions. But, Dralm be blessed, this was the last one!"

"Then we have an alliance?"

"Signed, sealed and about to be delivered to Grand Master Soton. Ranjar Sargos is no fool. The Zarthani Knights are the hereditary enemies of the Sastragathi. He'll fight them rather than anyone else if he has half a chance of victory. We are giving him much more than that."

"And the nomads?"

"Those sworn to Warlord Ranjar Sargos will follow us. The rest have a moon half to either join us or leave the Great Kingdom of Hos-Rathon. Nestros would like to make it a moon quarter, but he'll swallow hard and accept."

"I imagine most men would swallow a lot more, to be a Great King."

"Likely enough. "Being a Great King must be the dream of everyone who doesn't know what a headache it is! Not to mention aches in other places. Kalvan couldn't recall having been out of the saddle for more than twenty minutes at a time from dawn until dusk. He could recall the fields three-deep in dead men and horses, and worse, those who weren't yet dead. He didn't want to recall them, but they had glued themselves to his memory.