John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

The village straggled along the hilltop like an ill-tended flock of sheep. Since most of it was burning, the smoke veiled the whole right wing of the Hostigi from Phaxosi eyes. As he passed the first farmhouse, Xykos realized that this might also be shielding the enemy from Hostigi eyes. So that was why the Queen has asked for a regiment! She wanted to not only find out what the Phaxosi might be up to, but also to stop them if it was dangerous.

With thirty Beefeaters, all Xykos could do was learn the lay of the land and hope he'd live long enough to tell the Queen. Smoke swirled up from a burning pigsty, hiding two of his men. A shot exploded from the pigsty, and one of the two staggered back into sight, holding his stomach. Another shot, a scream from the sty, and the sound of running feet. Two men in the black and green colors of Phaxos dashed out of the sty, heading for the far side of the village.

Half a dozen pistols cracked; one Phaxosi threw up his hands and fell. The other seemed to bear a charmed life, until Xykos leveled his musketoon. The small shot made the man leap and stumble. Before he could get back on his feet Xykos was on top of him, wrestling him into submission as if he were a child.

"What do you hear, man?" Xykos shouted.

"Oath of Galzar-" began the man.

"You're no mercenary! You'll guest at Regwarn without your manhood, if you don't speak up!" Xykos motioned to one of his men, who drew a poniard.

"We're picketing the village, to warn of any Hostigi movement around the flank," the man gasped.

"And the rest of your army?"

"I can't say-"

"Tythos, just a small cut."Tythos sliced the soldier's breeches from groin to waist; then smiled like a man who enjoys his work.

"No! Mercy-I'll talk. We're shifting round, to hit you in the flank when the rear comes up."

"Hoho."

That made sense, from what the Queen had said. She'd wondered aloud why the Phaxosi had let Sarrask drive in their scouts and fight their vanguard in a simple old-fashioned headbutting kind of battle. Prince Araxes or one of his captains had guessed one of the Great King's tricks-be one place to draw your enemy in, and then be strong somewhere else to attack him.

Well, they would soon learn that Great Queens as well as Great Kings knew the new way of fighting.

"Tythos, take this fool back to the Queen, privy parts and all. Let him tell her what he's told us, then take his Oath to Galzar. Take a couple of-"

Xykos broke off, as the gap between two burning houses appeared to sprout Phaxosi. The pickets' friends had arrived, probably called by the shooting. They were waving swords and running straight toward his small command.

"Run, Tythos! Forget the prisoner! Bodyguards, cold steel!" Xykos had seen that none of the Phaxosi had drawn their pistols, but all had drawn their swords and daggers.

By Galzar's grace, both friend and foe had left Xykos room to draw Boarsbane. The great sword rasped from its scabbard and leaped through the smoky air. It cut under one man's helmet and took his head from his shoulders before he knew an enemy was in striking distance. Another man lost an arm, a third the use of a leg.

"It's one of Kalvan's demons!" a Phaxosi screamed.

This threw the whole band into confusion, then into retreat. Xykos shifted Boarsbane to his left hand and brought down one of the fugitives with a pistol shot.

"Fire!" he shouted. If the men got away, they would give far more warning to the Phaxosi commanders than the sound of shooting.

Xykos emptied his other pistol, saw that some of the Phaxosi were going to get away, and broke into a run after them. Suddenly hoof beats swelled behind him, and he was shouldered aside by one of the mounted Lifeguard. He reeled against a smoldering wall, jumped back as an ember seared his cheek, and turned to see Queen Rylla leading her Mounted Lifeguard out the other side of the village.

So much for Great Queen's promises!

To do her justice, Rylla was back, bloody saber resting across the pommel of her saddle, in hardly more than a few breaths. Without even looking at Xykos, she ordered two mounted men to ride back and bring up the First Royal Carbineers.

Then she seemed to notice Xykos for the first time. "Well done, Captain, and for the twentieth time."

"Boarsbane seems to bring me luck, Your Majesty."

"And you hope some of it rubs off on me?"

"Well…"

"Never mind. The Phaxosi are moving up on the right, but they haven't joined up their flankers to their main body. We push both regiments into the gap, and we can catch the flankers before they deploy."

"Two regiments?"

"Kalvan taught me that even one regiment in time can do more than ten regiments an hour late. If Sarrask can just hold the Phaxosi by the nose while I kick them in the pants, we've won the battle."

Xykos nodded and began searching one of the dead Phaxosi for something to wipe Boarsbane. When the blade was clean, he started to sprint towards his horse, which had wandered away from the fighting. He knew that the Great Queen was a fine captain. Now he prayed that she was also a good prophet.

Half of Phaxos Town had already looked as if the Hostigi had already sacked the town and stripped it of loot, but Prince Araxes royal chambers looked as if he were set to receive a friendly visit from some distant overlord. Captain-General Oroblon followed the Palace seneschal to the Prince's throne. One of Styphon's yellow-robed Highpriests was chattering in Araxes' ear. Probably trying to arrange a guard company so they could take the Temple gold out of the town before Kalvan's demons arrived, not that Oroblon could blame him. The Styphoni had spent enough rearming the Prince's army and shoring up Tarr-Phaxos' walls to send the local economy soaring-but not for long.

"What are you doing here, Captain-General? And where is my army?" Araxes' voice came out more as a screech than the usual modulated voice of command.

"We've lost two battles in twice as many days. The army is in full retreat to Tarr-Phaxos."

"You brought the army here! Oroblon, I'm paying you and them to keep the Hostigi out of here!"

"We have no other place to go. If we have the gods favor, we'll be able to hold them outside the town walls until the Royal Army arrives."

Prince Araxes shook his head as though he'd just learned his favorite concubine had died. "The Royal Army of Hos-Harphax is not coming. I just received a letter from Prince Lysandros."

Captain-General Oroblon felt as if he'd just been gut-shot. "What? Why?"

Prince Araxes stretched out his hands imploringly. "Lysandros blames me for all this!"

The Highpriest rose up and said sanctimoniously, "You should have never made overtures to the Usurper!"

"SHUT UP! And forget any bodyguards from me, you son-of-a-motherless sow. I hear Kalvan shoots your kind out of cannons."

The highpriest turned white and fled the room. One of the Prince's bodyguards started off after him, but Araxes motioned him to halt. "He won't go far. Already the townspeople are taking Styphon's priests hostage, thinking they can use them to barter for their freedom when the walls fall. Sometimes the Styphoni forget just how far from Balph they are."

"I'll put my men to shoring up the town walls. I suggest you take your valuables to the keep in Tarr-Phaxos."

"Will the town walls hold, Captain-General?"

"For a few days. The Hostigi carry their own guns and when they go to work these old walls won't last long. Tarr-Phaxos will be a tougher nut to crack."

"Best we sue for peace, then?"

"I don't think it will do any good. If it were King Kalvan, maybe. But that wife of his has blood in her eye."

"You mean you were defeated by a woman?"

Oroblon tried to keep his racing blood in check. If he had any brains, he'd take his pistol out of his sash and drop Araxes where he sat. Then take what remained of his army and join up with Captain-General Phide-stros. However, Araxes still held his oath; Galzar had no patience with oath-breakers. Furthermore, it was difficult to turn his back on the man who'd made him Captain-General of his army-even if he was a back-stabbing dog. "I was defeated by Prince Sarrask, and Great Queen Rylla of Hos-Hostigos, who is the equal of any man I've ever met and then some. From what I've heard, she has even less patience with oath-breakers than the priests of the Wargod."