John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

He had just finished cleaning his kit when the overhead flickering ceased and the silver mesh began to solidify overhead signifying they had arrived at Fifth Level Base One. The conveyer came to rest in a small room; from there they went aboard a rocket transport and traveled to a large island, at the base of the largest southern continental mass, that usually served the First Level population as a recreation spot-meaning there was little possibility of a Paratime Police conveyer dropping in unexpectedly.

Warntha, who was dressed warmly for a higher latitude, felt himself begin to sweat as the airboat arrived at the large military compound. It took a great deal of Tharn's assets to keep this place running, but he had six airstrike teams and fifteen divisions of infantry for his own personal army. To the best of Warntha's knowledge, it was a bigger force than Home Time-Line's own military, which primarily existed to put down Prole Insurrections. The two guards remained in the conveyer.

He followed Tharn into a large conference room with a large visiscreen dominating one wall. A dozen proles in military uniforms decorated with gold braid sat around a table. They all stood up as Tharn approached.

"Citizen Tharn, when can we mount our attack?"

"General, the time has not yet arrived. There is still work that needs to be done on Home Time-Line. I advise patience."

Warntha choked back a laugh. Hearing Tharn advise patience was like hearing someone advise a friend to take a vacation on Second Level Arzl Dykx, a subsector where the survivors of an ancient nuclear holocaust killed each other for table scraps.

One of the other generals, an older man with a gray beard, said, "With your long life, Citizen, you can afford to wait. I was a young man when I joined the PLM. Look at me now!"

The other proles nodded their agreement.

"If all goes as planned, you will all get the longevity treatments and you and your children will live a long life indeed."

This promise appeared to settle them down and the generals went back to the business of plotting the overthrow of Fifth Level Force Headquarters.

As a veteran of the Home Force, Warntha knew that the Fifth Level HQ would have to be taken by surprise for this band of half-trained and inexperienced resistance fighters to take them out. What kind of surprise attack does Tharn have planned? he wondered. By definition, as a Hadron Tharn plan, it would be irregular, dangerous and with total disregard to casualties. He almost felt sorry for the proles.

As he and his bodyguard made their way over the narrow cobblestone streets of Harphax City, Phidestros was surprised by the large number of gawking onlookers and the occasional applause that greeted their party, which was flying the red and white Royal banner of Hos-Harphax and the Iron Band standard. The morale in Harphax was a far cry from that of a year ago, when prosperous merchants and guildsmen were leaving the city in droves for fear of a Hostigi siege train.

The buildings at the center of town were mostly two and three-story white plaster storefronts, but as they drew closer to the city walls these were replaced by ramshackle wood and plaster tenements, timbered warehouses and an occasional stone factory. It was one of the largest of these factories that was their destination, the Royal Artillery Works. The streets were filled with wagons and carriages; Styphon's gold had finally brought prosperity to the capital city.

At the Artillery Works Phidestros' ears were greeted by the din of banging hammers, screeching metal and yelling men. He dismounted and walked over to General Kyblannos, formerly head of the Iron Band and now the commander of the Harphaxi Royal Artillery. They touched palms and Kyblannos mouthed, "Follow me," and led him into the cavernous building. As two commanders entered the building, the artisans and helpers who saw them stopped working and they were able to hear each other over the roar of the forges.

"Welcome to my killing ground, Captain-General," Kyblannos said, looking for all the world like a proud father.

Phidestros shook his head. "This is too close to Hadron's realm for my liking."

Kyblannos laughed. He pointed at a small brass gun, lying on its side next to a wooden carriage. "This is one of the four-pounders we found at Tarr-Veblos. We're working on some Kalvan-style carriages to mount it on. What's interesting is that it's a Zygrosi cast gun," he pointed to a small proof mark, "but this mark is Hostigi-a keystone, Kalvan's device. This is conclusive proof that Kalvan has a band of Zygrosi foundry workers working at the Usurper's Foundry in Hostigos."

"We knew that from our intelligence, but this proof mark would convince even my father! It's the Trickster's Own Luck that during your excursion into Hostigos you were unable to capture the Hostigi Artillery train."

The artilleryman nodded. "We had a limit on how many men and how much equipment we could smuggle into Nostor. The countryside is still barren from the war, but Prince Pheblon has outriders everywhere. Who expected a troop of Hostigi regulars to be escorting the train?"

"Don't fret, Kyblannos, you did well. Leaving the dead behind in Phaxosi uniforms was a bit of genius. The Hostigi blamed the entire raid on Prince Araxes who died protesting his innocence." They both laughed, as no one had liked that cowardly fencestitter.

"If Queen Rylla hadn't been so anxious to blame Araxes, things wouldn't have turned out so well," Phidestros said.

"Again, the Trickster's Own Luck! Yes, my Captain, and you took full advantage by capturing Tarr-Veblos. Did you ever tell Lysandros or Soton the truth about that raid into Nostor?"

"No. It's our little secret. If word got out, and the Electors of Harphax ever learned that they had been had, well, Great King Lysandros would have turkey feathers in his beard! And you know who he'd take his ire out on.

The artilleryman nodded knowingly.

"So what is it you want to show me?"

Kyblannos took him over to look at a new Harphaxi gun already mounted on one of the Kalvan-style carriages.

"Small, isn't it?" Phidestros said, examining the iron tube surrounded by hammered hoops, or metal rings, to give it more strength. As Kyblannos had told him more than once, when the hoops cooled they contracted until they were actually crushing the barrel to a slight degree. This counteracted the tendency of the barrels to come apart when the fireseed charge exploded.

"It's based on one of Kalvan's small mobile guns that the Red Hand captured atTenabra." Kyblannos pointed to a cannon already mounted on a carriage beside it. "This is the Hostigi gun. Can you tell any difference?"

Phidestros shook his head from side to side.

Kyblannos then pointed to a gun beside it that was bulkier and obviously larger. "This is one of our guns of the same bore. It has noticeably more heft than the Kalvan designed gun." Kyblannos turned back to the Hostigi gun, and said, "I went over it for days until I learned its every secret." He bent over to pat the breech as if it were a favorite dog. "Can you see the difference between Kalvan's gun and our new one?"

"Identical."

"In rough appearance; however, not only are they lighter than the old eight-pounders, Phidestros, but the gun typically only needs four horses to pull it, instead of six, Bless Galzar! This is what gives Kalvan's artillery its mobility."

"Why doesn't Kalvan make the guns even smaller, maybe four-pounders? Then he could use two horses instead of four."

"For a very good reason. It's been my experience with small guns, like four-pounders, that after a few rounds the metal gets so hot that the gun will 'cook off' any fireseed placed in it. I'm sure Kalvan took that into consideration."

Then he led Phidestros over to the corner of the Artillery Works. "See this brass gun?"