John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

In his freshman year at Princeton, his philosophy instructor had claimed that without the Greek philosophical and mathematical underpinnings of technology and invention, Western Civilization would have been stillborn and history would have taken a completely different course, more similar to the religious and God Emperor tyrannies of the Middle East and China. There would have been no Macedonian Empire, no Roman Empire, no Middle Ages and no Enlightenment-just an interminable, endless Dark Age.

At best, the Old World nations were at the same pre-industrial level of civilization as the Zarthani, who had a civilization with some medieval trappings-castles, pikes, gunpowder weapons-but whose gods and philosophies were little advanced over those of ancient Babylonia. Maybe someday the course of here-and-now civilization would be reversed, from the 'New World' back to the 'Old World.' He wondered if he'd live long enough to see it. He hoped so.

He went to refill his goblet with Ermut's Best and found the flask empty. He used the pull to summon Cleon, who arrived, half out of breath, with a small wooden cask and another goblet. "Your visitor just arrived, Your Majesty. I didn't believe a mere flask would do."

Kalvan nodded. Knowing Vanar Halgoth, Cleon was correct. "Send him in."

There was a clanging, stomping noise and the massive Sastragathi headman came into the chamber. Kalvan rose and got a body hug that would have done Freddie Blassie the wrestler proud back on otherwhen. The huge Sastragathi warrior, with his horned helmet, always reminded him of a Viking prince and he almost expected one day to see a dragonship moored in the Harph River.

Then Halgoth started to get down on one knee-Kalvan restrained him as best he could. "No need for that, Vanar. We are friends."

A smile split the big Urgothi's face that would have done a jack o' lantern proud. "We just brought the last wagons of orphans to the Academy. With the fresh teams of horses Your Majesty supplied, we had no trouble following the Nyklos Trail."

"Good. I think the children will do well here in Hos-Hostigos."

Halgoth nodded. "Yes, very well. The Academy is a better home than these children have seen in all their lives."

"We were lucky to finish the Academy dormitories before the first snow. I had the entire Hostigi corps of Engineers and six regiments of regulars building them."

"Sargos is pleased. He asked me to thank you for honoring your word and to tell you he owes you a boon. He was most pleased that you honored the spirit of his request as well as the deed."

Kalvan nodded. He was certain that someday the boon would come in handy. It was unfortunate he couldn't call it in this spring.

"I have also brought the last of your guard."

Not being a dictator, Kalvan had no need for his own Praetorian Guard; not only were they expensive, eating kingdoms out of house and home, but after a while they began to take a personal interest in who was going to be their next paymaster. By the middle of the Roman Empire the Praetorians were changing emperors almost on an annual basis, although a few, like Gaius Julius Maximinus, were among the best Emperors of the period.

Unfortunately, Kalvan couldn't turn down the well-meaning offer from Sargos' best friend and confidant without irreparably damaging relations between the two kingdoms, and offering a deadly insult to Vanar Halgoth-probably the single most dangerous warrior Kalvan had ever met. As a berserker, Halgoth was somehow able to alter his mind and arrive at a state of complete fury and fearlessness. Kalvan had read about such warriors, among the Irish and Vikings, who fought without personal fear and without pain-able to withstand the loss of limbs and suffer grievous wounds, and still fight on-oblivious to even life-ending wounds.

It wasn't until the Battle of Spirit Grove that he saw the Urgothi berserkers in action. They were warriors who fought without fear, against all odds and didn't die easily. Yet, like most primitive warriors, they were emotional, subject to whims and capriciousness. On first reflection they were not an ideal bodyguard for the Great King of an army numbering in the tens of thousands. However, they would die to a man for their King and with Halgoth in command he knew his orders would be obeyed to the letter.

"Good," Kalvan answered. "We have completed their barracks inside the outer bailey. You and twenty of your men who speak our tongue will live with Us inside the Citadel."

Kalvan wasn't exactly sure how Rylla was going to take to this latest development, but Halgoth was certainly pleased.

"Our bodyguard will be called the Tymannian Guard." Kalvan had used the Byzantine's Viking guard, the Varangian Guard, as his model. They had served the Eastern Empire well, far better than Rome's Praetorians. "Your banner will be the Black Raven Hag of War on a white field. I will have Master Cathron, our armorer, design your uniforms."

Halgoth looked worried.

"You will still wear your horned helms and mail hauberks, but we'll add silvered back-and-breasts with my design, the keystone, on the breastplate. Each of you will be issued a regulation sword, two pistols, a powder horn and bullet molds. You can keep your own battleaxes-if you wish. Halgoth, you will be Grand-Captain of the Royal Bodyguard."

Halgoth smiled happily. Kalvan had tried to completely change here-and-now military ranks, but had found considerable resistance to his new order of command, especially among the ex-mercenaries in the Royal Army. So he'd done the next best thing, incorporated them into his own command structure.

Instead of sergeants, he had petty-captains; "sergeants" were common only in the Order of Zarthani Knights and the Sacred Squares so they'd been rejected. "Captain" was the catchall designation for everything from company leader to regimental head. In the Royal Army of Hostigos, captains commanded companies, grand-captains (majors) commanded battalions, while colonels commanded regiments. Hostigi brigades were commanded by generals, while armies were commanded by captain-generals. He'd had to drop the designation "brigadier" as too confusing to the locals. The "Grand Captain-General" of the entire Royal Army was Chartiphon, although in fact it was an honorary post, since Kalvan was the commander-in-chief and Rylla his second.

He poured them both another goblet of brandy and offered a toast to his new bodyguard.

Vanar Halgoth responded with his own toast. "To easy women and good fighting!"

Kalvan laughed. "I don't know about the women of Hostigos, but I can guarantee you all the fighting you can handle-and that's a promise."

Halgoth looked as if he'd just been invited to a feast of all his favorite foods. "My men will do their best to prove themselves worthy of the great honor you have bestowed upon them, Your Majesty." The big Sastragathi warrior re-filled their goblets. "To sharp blades and straight arrows!"

"All right down Styphon's gullet!" Kalvan added, quaffing his drink.

Kalvan moved closer to the hearth so he could get a better look at the polished lump of green glass presented to him by Rector Ermut. Outside he heard the whumph of a cannon shot in the outer courtyard as General Thalmoth proof-tested one of the new brass six-pounders. He could even hear the drill chants in the bailey where, despite the falling snow, the petty-captains were valiantly-and probably vainly-doing their best to combat the low morale of the long and idle winter months.

He imagined his enemies were doing much the same thing in Tarr-Veblos where they made preparations for the largest invasion in here-and-now history. Talk about getting the ball rolling! This was going to be a long and bloody war no matter who won. He wished, for about the thousandth time, that the survival of Hostigos was not totally borne on his own not so wide shoulders!