John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

The smile, like the laugh, was a ghost of its usual self. But some of the old Rylla was still there. Time to see if a peace treaty could bring the rest of it back.

"Rylla, the damage done by your invasion of Phaxos won't be undone. I should have realized that when I came home and said-well, things I shouldn't have said. I went ahead and said them, and now our marriage is-was-- almost as dead as the Phaxosi Princely House.

"That's a gift to Styphon's House, our being divided. Will you join me in not making us separated anymore?"

The silence this time seemed to last long enough for a man to ride to Agrys City with a side trip to Balph on the way. Part of that was the hangover, but Kalvan wouldn't even contemplate servants in the chamber until he and Rylla were done. Or at least until he had his answer, whatever it might be…

"Yes." She gripped his hand more tightly. "I won't promise to always take your advice, Kalvan. But by Dralm, Galzar, and Yirtta Allmother, I promise to ask for it. And, I'll even admit, I shouldn't have gone against your wishes-not that I won't do it again-if necessary!"

That was as close to an apology that Kalvan would ever hear out of those lovely lips. Somehow he managed to find the strength to bend over and kiss her on the forehead, which left him so exhausted that it was Rylla who finally pulled the bell cord.

After tea and toast, they held one of their bedroom councils. Neither of them felt quite up to dressing and unfolding a map, but they'd both nearly memorized the Harphaxi frontier. There, clearly, the decisive battle of the next campaign would be fought.

"Well, you certainly took care of the Phaxosi problem for once and for all."

"I just couldn't stand by and let Araxes continue to defy our sovereignty any longer!"

Kalvan bit down on the groan that was about to escape from his lips. "I know, I know. At least, that's one subject we won't argue over again."

"And you did shut the back door against the Knights," Rylla hastily added. "Thank Dralm and Galzar for that. If the Order wants to come against us next year, they'll have to come through Harphax. And King Lysandros is no man to give Soton a free passage."

"Not the way he's grooming his Captain-General," Kalvan said. "Maybe Phidestros and Soton will be too busy quarreling to fight us."

"I'm not sure I'd count on that," Rylla answered. "From what Skranga has told me, King Lysandros has hocked his lands, his kingdom and his younger sister's trousseau to Styphon's House."

"I'll pray that they do quarrel. I'll even ask a few of Sargos' tame shamans to chant spells. But what I really think I ought to do is visit Agrys City and talk some sense into the League of Dralm. Duke Mnestros will stand behind me."

"Kalvan, no! The Kingdom needs you. Besides, what's to ensure your safety in Demistophon's lands?"

"Great King Demistophon isn't a fool. He knows such treachery would give the League a perfect excuse to turn against him. The ones who aren't against him already, that is. Remember all the Zygrosi and would-be Zygrosi in the League of Dralm."

"I haven't forgotten them, Kalvan. I also haven't forgotten that King Demistophon has the shortest temper of any Great King since Pytros the Iron King. Or that he sent an army twelve thousand strong to fight us the summer before last. If you entered his lands with enough men to keep you safe, he'd suspect it was an invasion. If you kept your guard small to reassure him, you couldn't protect yourself against the Styphoni. King Demistophon and the Archpriests of the Inner Circle wouldn't care who was angry with them, if you were dead. It wouldn't matter."

"I suppose not. But-does this mean you're not going to be risking your neck in the next battle?"

"The man who fought hand-to-hand with King Nestros in the Battle of Spirit Grove asks that question?" Rylla's laugh was practically back to normal. "An army needs inspiration. You can't give it to them by leading from the back. That silly bunch of old priests in Agrys City needs something that neither kings nor captains can give them."

Kalvan nodded. "I'd counted on Xentos supporting our position in Agrys City. But I underestimated his own ambitions-or, worse yet, his piety."

Rylla looked as if she were holding back tears. "Xentos is no longer the man I knew. He believes in his god, maybe too much-"

"Oh, he's sincere, I'll grant him that. But right now hypocrites like Skranga and Baron Zothnes are more useful."

This time Rylla laughed out loud. Kalvan's head still ached too much to let him do the same, but he smiled. There was still a distance between him and Rylla that hadn't been there before. Maybe now, for the first time since his return to Hos-Hostigos, it was no longer too great a distance to cross, with time and love.

Warntha Sain was sitting by the campfire drinking the piss-water the Ros-Zarthani called beer and discussing close-order tactics with an under officer of the 4th Maniple when he felt the vibration from his locater alert. He quickly excused himself from the conversation, using the time-tested excuse of going to the latrine. Instead of going straight to the trenches, Warntha swung around to the northwest where his locater indicated, through increasing vibrations, the homing signal was originating.

Warntha spotted the silver mesh of the twenty-foot transtemporal conveyer in a small glade. He had been wondering when Hadron Tharn was going to send someone to pick him up. After their defeat of the Grefftscharrer army, the Ros-Zarthani army had followed the trail to Dorg where water transport was being arranged to ferry the army down river south of Wulfula to Tarr-Ceros, where they would winter. The Dorgi had refused transit right to Zarphu down the river until the defeat of the Grefftscharrer army. Now the Dorgers couldn't get the Ros-Zarthani on their way fast enough.

Warntha wouldn't have minded staying with the Ros-Zarthani; the company was good-mostly fellow soldiers who had accepted him as one of their own despite his disguise as one of Styphon's highpriests. The possibilities for future fighting seemed endless, so he was content. He was especially looking forward to fighting against Kalvan and his Army of Hos-Hostigos.

On the other hand, things were never dull when Hadron Tharn was around. Warntha was surprised to find he actually missed his crazy boss.

The conveyer door opened to show Tharn with a welcoming smile, flanked by two guards in black uniforms. "How was your exercise?"

Warntha took a seat inside the conveyer across from his boss and said, "It was a nice vacation. The Ros-Zarthani soldiers are good troops, even without gunpowder weapons. They'll give Kalvan fits, but not enough to be decisive."

Tharn's face blanked. "None of my plans are working. I'm hemmed in on every side by morons and incompetents! The Opposition Party has refused my latest donation! They claim that Chief Verkan's new policy of phased harvesting of the Europo-American Sector is workable and acceptable by all parties. So Verkan wins once again!"

Warntha was used to his bosses sudden mood shifts, but this one took him by surprise. He wasn't exactly sure why his boss hated Paratime Chief Verkan Vall, but he suspected it had something to do with his sister Dalla. "So what's the next move, boss?"

"We're on our way to Fifth Level Base One."

Warntha, as an ex-military specialist, had originally been recruited by Tharn's Organization to help train troops at the Base, mostly proles being trained for military action groups. This had been going on for a decade and Tharn had created quite the private little army. The proles he was using as his shock troops thought Hadron Tharn was a supporter of the Prole Liberation Movement. Warntha, knowing Tharn's prejudices, seriously doubted that! Warntha still didn't know Tharn's plan, but he knew that Tharn had no good purpose in mind for any proles, whom he looked upon as little better than beasts of burden.