John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

He could, like Moses, lead them to the Promised Lands of California or Florida, but Hos-Bletha (Florida) was too close to Balph for comfort and mostly swamp land. He'd already had enough experience fighting the Ros-Zarthani of the Pacific coast to know they were no pushovers either-

He wished Verkan were here, but he was either holed-up or dead. So, instead, he'd sent Master Trader Tortha and Chancellor Chartiphon to lead a delegation to talk with King Theovacar; he was still waiting to hear back from them. The Middle Kingdoms were the only place he had left to go. And he was either going to go into them, or through them.

With more than a quarter million refugees from Hos-Hostigos to feed and clothe and prepare for next winter, he was either going to take someone else's lands or move into Ulthor-lock, stock and rifle barrels. Holding Ulthor would encourage Roxthar and the Grand Host to continue their pursuit. Then, he might find himself in same position as in the Princedom of Hostigos, where staying would have resulted in a fight to the death with the Grand Host. Defeating the Grand Host in Hostigos would have left him ruling a kingdom comprised of ruins and starving subjects, while losing would have meant certain death and slavery for all his people.

As far as going down the Samnos River was concerned, there weren't enough boats on all the ports of the Saltless Seas to transport this Hostigos crowd!

Kalvan stared into the glowing embers of the dying campfire, wishing he were any place but here. As if he didn't have enough problems on his plate, he was waiting for Aspasthar to arrive so he could tell him that his father had died. This was the toughest duty Kalvan had to face in a year that had cost him just about everything dear to his heart-and cost his subjects even more.

This great king business isn't all that it's cracked up to be! he thought.

It had been about two years ago, after the death of his mother, that Harmakros and his son had been reunited. There had been some problems at first, not surprisingly, but lately the two of them had been growing close…

As Aspasthar approached the orange glow of the fire, he saw the apprehension on the young page's face, a countenance that was beginning to resemble his father's. "Sit down, here on this log."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Aspasthar said, trying in vain to keep a slight tremor out of his voice.

The whole camp knew something was up, ever since the messenger had arrived on a half-dead horse just before sunset asking to speak to Great King Kalvan. There was an unnatural quiet in the air over the camp; only the soft creaking of leather, the neighing of horses and distant crying of babies broke through the stillness. Some of the soldiers must have recognized the messenger as one of the rear guard assigned to Hostigos Town. The news had been bad, very bad, but not a surprise. Having been a noncom in Korea himself, Kalvan wouldn't be the least bit surprised if most of them already knew as much as he did about the fall of Tarr-Hostigos.

Kalvan could tell from the young page's composure that Aspasthar hadn't heard the scuttlebutt about the fall of Tarr-Hostigos, but he certainly had a premonition that something bad had happened-bad enough for his Great King to call him for a private audience in this forest glen.

"There's no easy way, to tell you this, son. So I'll give it to you straight."

Aspasthar stood parade-ground still.

Kalvan felt a stab of guilt that this defeat was all his fault, but he shook it off. Truthfully, the people of Hostigos were doomed the moment Styphon's House had decided it needed Wolf Valley sulfur springs for a temple farm. For many of his subjects, the arrival of the 'Gods-sent Lord Kalvan' had given them 'interesting times' and a few more years of life. Of course, he had worked hard for better things for his people than this Trail of Tears out of Hos-Hostigos and into the wilderness of the Middle Kingdoms to who knew what kind of reception from King Theovacar and his vassals. But, even the best magician could only pull so many rabbits out of a hat and this time when Kalvan had reached down to the bottom of his hat, well, that hat had been empty.

He was no longer the infallible Great King Kalvan and his subjects- and his wife-were just going to have to get used to it. Kalvan would do his best to find them a new home and someday lead them back to Hostigos, if he could.

"Your father, Aspasthar, was a brave soldier and my friend."

Aspasthar nodded, his eyes welling.

"He gave his life so that we would gain ours. His valiant stand with Prince Ptosphes and the Hostigos Veterans gave us time to escape the Great Host."

The boy crumbled and Kalvan caught him as he fell. He held the boy tight and fought his own faltering emotions as Aspasthar sobbed into his shoulder. Harmakros had been his best friend here-and-now and a fine man. "You could have had no better father."

"I will try to live up to his memory," Aspasthar sputtered. He pulled back and dried his eyes with his sleeves. "I apologize, Your Majesty-"

"Do nothing of the sort. You only have one father and he deserves to be mourned. Do not be ashamed of honest feelings."

The young page nodded.

"I made Harmakros a promise, after he demanded to be allowed to stay behind at Tarr-Hostigos and help his Prince and Our people."

For the first time, Aspasthar perked up.

The resiliency of youth, thought Kalvan. "I promised your father that if anything happened to him that Your Queen and I would become your Guardians." Adoption, no matter how much he liked the boy, was out of the question; he didn't want any dynastic squabbles after his death. He had to choke back the laughter that welled up inside-what dynasty? Right now calling the stragglers and dispossessed that followed him anything more than refugees-even if they were the Great Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos in hiding-had to be presumption!

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I was wondering what would happen after my father-" He began to tear up again.

"You will be under Our protection. When you have reached your maturity, you will receive your father's title of Duke, and his lands." Young people here-and-now grew up fast and reached their legal age at sixteen. He could see the boy mature right before his eyes.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"We also have a very important Crown position We would like for you to fill."

Aspasthar brightened up.

"We want you to be Commandant of Cadets of the Hostigos Royal Academy."

Kalvan wasn't sure of what reaction Aspasthar would show upon hearing this news, what he didn't expect was near jubilation.

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes," Kalvan answered with a smile.

"This is-I mean, would be-the happiest day of my life, if it weren't for the news about my father."

"Take whatever joy you can find, son. Tomorrow morning I want you to meet with Colonel Tyral and help reorganize the cadet regiments. The cadets did an excellent job of protecting the women and children during the retreat out of Hostigos and many of them will receive medals from Ourselves, after we get settled."

Aspasthar nodded as if it were a given. The cadets, under the watchful eye of Vanar Halgoth and the Tymannian Guard, had been one of the last lines of defense between the Great Host and the retreating Hostigi civilians. Even Chartiphon had commented on what a great job they'd done. They'd also taken several hundred casualties during the Retreat.

No Hostigi who lived through the Retreat would ever look upon the Ruthani cadets again as anything but worthy subjects of the Kingdom. By putting Harmakros' son and his ward at their head, it would cement their position as loyal subjects of Hostigos-in-Exile for all time.

After telling Aspasthar the sad news of his father's death, Kalvan returned to their campsite. He had yet to face Rylla since the news arrived about Ptosphes; instead he walked back and forth before his tent, digging a trench in the wet soil with his boots. Every time he passed the flap he could hear Rylla crying inside. Prince Ptosphes had been both mother and father to his daughter; and maybe too lenient for all intents and purposes. Still, he had raised her with love and she had returned it in full measure. Now, she was coming to terms to living life without it.