John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

The Archpriest shrugged. "I apologize for contradicting you, Your Majesty, but this army is Styphon's Grand Host. It is our gold which is financing this crusade, and it is the Union of Styphon's Friends which comprises the majority of its forces. Thus, it was decided by the Speaker that it would be in everyone's best interest to have a unified command under one general. Captain-General Phidestros was selected by both Grand Master Soton and Speaker Anaxthenes as the best candidate."

As if that should settle the question for once and for all, but what about me, you arrogant imbecile? he shouted silently. It had been his plan from the beginning to command the Grand Host himself; after all, while Kalvan had Captain-Generals at his beck and call, it was the Usurper who commanded his force-not some jumped-up mercenary captain. To Styphon with the lot of them!

It was his late brother's fault he was in this mess, having to feign humility and piety toward a false god and clutch of priests who weren't worth the fireseed it would take to blow them to Regwarn and back! Kaiphranos the Timid had been everything a king should not be: weak, vacillating, fearful, and worst of all cheap. The only good to come of Kaiphranos' reign was the opportunity it had allowed a younger brother to emerge and take charge of the Royal Army, turning it into a force to be reckoned with despite the constant lack of funding.

Unfortunately, he'd been forced to cut deals with Styphon's House to pay his troops and provide them with arms and fireseed. The Harphaxi Army hadn't been a great army, but it had been a good army. Until his brother had granted command to that Dralm-damned addlebrained Captain-General Aesthes and his brother's idiot son, Prince Philesteus, who'd at least had the grace to die on the battlefield with the flower of Harphaxi nobility!

With Lysandros in command, the Grand Host would not only have defeated the Usurper Kalvan and restored the lost lands to Hos-Harphax, but would have had an opportunity to annex new lands in Hos-Agrys. Under the guise of punishing King Demistophon for not supporting the Grand Host and for permitting the League of Dralm to continue to meet, he would have annexed large chunks of Agrysi territory.

Lysandros ran through a string of vile curses. This plan could not be undertaken unless he was in command of the Grand Host. He didn't trust Phidestros to follow orders that might go against the wishes of Grand Master Soton. He'd picked the young mercenary because he'd mistakenly thought Phidestros would be easier to bully than those captains with experience and reputations.

Over the years he'd learned to use Styphon's House to further his own ends, even if it had meant bowing and scraping to morons like Phyllos and his predecessor, and pretending a piety that he never felt. As Great King of a shattered Hos-Harphax, Lysandros needed the Temple more than ever, first to re-build the decimated Royal Army and now to fight the Usurper and restore his rightful lands. At long last, all that was about to change. The moment Kalvan was defeated, Lysandros' autonomy from Styphon's House would begin. He might use the Investigation as his lever, but if he had to, he'd manufacture some act of treason or treachery and declare Styphon's House anathema. Then it would be his turn to loot the gold from Styphon's House's temples and banking houses.

Now that he'd been told he would not be allowed to be in command of the Grand Host it was time to pick a new commander for the Harphaxi Royal Army, one who would be obliged to him-not Styphon's House. He would not allow Phidestros the luxury of twin commands. He'd already promised the mercenary far too much already-the Princedoms of Beshta and Sashta. It was galling enough that he would have to count the mercenary among his Princes, but even more so to know that his loyalty could not be purchased. The real question was: would those lands and his title be enough to staunch Phidestros' ambition?

If the mercenary dared to oppose him, he could crush him like a spider underfoot. He was thinking about how much he would enjoy scraping Phidestros off his boot, when the Archpriest interrupted his thoughts with a question.

"Your Majesty, His Divinity, Styphon's Voice, believes it would be a fine display of your devotion to Styphon were you to 'require' the nobles of Harphax City to attend devotions at the High Temple each morning. Can we depend upon you to post a notice to this effect in the public square?"

"I believe it is up to each man to seek his own manner to display his faith to which ever of the true gods he believes will help him in his this life. Already there are too many voices in the City that say I favor Styphon's House over the other gods. To please His Divinity, Styphon's Voice, I have closed several of Allfather Dralm's temples. However, I stop short of telling my subjects which of the Twelve True Gods each must worship."

The Archpriest looked as if he'd just bitten into a crabapple. "I will relay your response to Balph, where I fear it will not be happily received."

Lysandros kept a smile of triumph from appearing on his face. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. He was not going to allow the Inner Circle to continue dictating to him as they did to Great King Cleitharses-not now that he was Great King of Hos-Harphax!

The University Hospice was filled with the cries of the wounded and the dying. Kalvan fervently hoped Harmakros was not among the latter. The room reeked of brandy and burning pitch.

The cots were filled with men burnt black by gunpowder and reddened by blood.

Uncle Wolf Tharses saw him and cried, "It's the Great King. Make way for King Kalvan!"

Kalvan was pleased to see the head Uncle Wolf working on Harmakros, but his stomach turned when he came close enough to see the remains of Harmakros' left leg. The Captain-General's face was as white as the snow outside. Kalvan wished he'd thought more about making some kind of primitive blood transfusion device. It was too late now.

He turned to Tharses. "Have you kept his bandages clean?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the old Uncle Wolf said, looking insulted. "I know your lectures on the fester devils by heart. We have clean bandages and plenty of distilled spirits of wood as an antiseptic-isn't that the correct word?"

"Yes," Kalvan said, feeling abashed. "I'm sorry, Tharses. I don't mean to act like an old woman, but Harmakros is a friend. And I'm very worried. I need him; the Kingdom needs him."

Tharses face softened. "We will do the best for Harmakros. He has many good friends in Hostigos. I will see that he lives to kill more Styphoni!"

Harmakros' eyelids fluttered and then opened. "I need a spot of brandy, Kalvan."

"Of course." Before Kalvan could give the order Xykos had a flask in his hand.

"Kalvan… I…" Harmakros raised his head and Kalvan gave him a quick sip of brandy. His body shivered but there was a smile on his face. "Cold… so cold. I needed that."

"Want another?"

"No… not for a bit. I just wanted to ask you a favor. Well, just in case."

"Go ahead! Anything you want, friend. Does it hurt?"

Harmakros made a grimace. "Only when I think about it. Actually, I don't feel anything below the knee. It's all right. I saw the leg… before." Harmakros fell back against the cot and began breathing heavily. "Wait… please, don't go… not till I catch my breath."

"I'll stay by you, Harmakros. Don't worry. Maybe another short pull."

This time instead of trying to pour the brandy to Harmakros' mouth, Kalvan took a clean bandage and soaked it with the brandy, putting the cloth into Harmakros' mouth.

"Just like being back in the crib," Harmakros wheezed, and then caught his breath. "I must ask a boon of you, Your Majesty."

"Ask away, old friend. Anything you want that is mine will be yours. Just tell me what you want?"