John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

"It is… my son, Aspasthar. I want you to take care of him like your own son if I… well, if I don't get better."

"Consider it done. I'll make him a Royal Ward and someday he'll be a nobleman."

Harmakros smiled. "Thank you, My King. The boy is rough around the edges, but he means well. He needs a bit more tempering, that boy."

"I know. You've given him a lot to live up to."

"But not too soon…"

"He'll be fine after a tour with the Royal Army."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, because sometimes I'm… not, not so sure… Ahhh!"

Kalvan turned to see the Uncle Wolf cutting off the last of Harmakros' breeches. When Kalvan looked back, his friend was out cold.

"I want to speak with you before you cut off the leg, Master Tharses."

The Uncle Wolf nodded. He directed one of his assistants to clean the leg and motioned Kalvan to the foot of the cot.

"How bad is it?"

"The Captain-General, he's lost a lot of blood, Your Majesty. There is no way we are going to be able to save the leg. It must come off. I'm sorry, Your Majesty."

"Legs can be replaced with wood and steel. What I want to know is whether or not he's going to survive the amputation."

"Maybe. He's a strong man, our Captain-General. And he has the will to live, which he's going to need."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Please wait out in the ante-chamber while we saw off the leg."

"I'll leave. I'd just be in the way here." Kalvan bent over to feel Harmakros' forehead: no fever, but he was still warm.

Out in the antechamber, he finished off Xykos' flask and asked the burly Captain of the Guards if he had another. He did, and the two of them made short work of it. The wait was interminable but Kalvan stopped himself from asking for another flask. He would get good and drunk when he knew how Harmakros was doing, be it wake or celebration.

Finally the plank-door opened and Master Tharses, his thin gray hair plastered to his skull with sweat, came out.

"How is he?"

"The leg is off and the wound is cauterized. He never felt a thing."

"He lives?"

"Yes, Galzar be praised! I suspect it will take more than a burst gun to quench the Captain-General's spark."

"Thank you, Tharses! You could have given me no better news." Kalvan turned to Xykos. "Lead me to the nearest tavern, for this day I want to get good and stinking drunk."

A smile split the big man's face. "Better than that, Your Majesty, I know several good taverns."

"To the first then!"

As Archpriest Anaxthenes walked through the ante-chamber to Great King Nestros' audience room, Archpriest Heraclestros whispered, "Over there, that's Prince Ptosphes of Hostigos."

The Prince, sitting stiffly in one of the marble seats, was making a determined effort not to be intimidated by the large delegation from Styphon's House: six highpriests, three archpriests and the commander of Styphon's Own Guard, High Marshal Xenophes. Prince Ptosphes was a dignified man of some fifty winters with a silver beard and heavily calloused hands. Sitting beside him was a white-haired man who looked like another former soldier, wearing the chain of chancellery, and a handsome young man with a princely crown, said to be Prince Phrames of Beshta.

Interestingly enough, the party from the false kingdom of Hostigos had arrived a moon-quarter earlier, but Great King Nestros seemed to have gone to great lengths to ensure that both parties would meet before his chambers today. Was this an attempt to intimidate him, or the Hostigi? Maybe Nestros was trying to bargain more concessions from the Hostigi and thought that by letting his party into the King's chambers first, the Hostigi would be willing to increase their earlier offers? From the scowl on Prince Ptosphes' face, he was willing to bet that stratagem would fail.

King Nestros was seated upon a throne big enough for two men-big but crude, like his capital, Rathon City. Nestros was a tall, powerfully-built man with ash-colored hair and a well-trimmed beard in the Northern Kingdoms' style. Unfortunately, his attempt at sophistication was undone by his under-slung chin and puppy dog eyes.

After the lengthy introductions and formal proceedings were finished, Anaxthenes decided the best way to answer Nestros' insult was to address it directly. "Upon Our arrival for a private audience with Your Majesty, We noticed that the emissaries for the Usurper Kalvan and False Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos are present and awaiting an audience as well."

Nestros squirmed in his seat. "Well… yes, the Hostigi ambassadors arrived earlier to negotiate an alliance between Hos-Hostigos and Hos-Rathon. We have had several meetings and We are giving their offer serious consideration after taking into account their help against the nomads and Sastragathi tribesmen last spring."

Not so serious that you were willing to wait a moon-quarter to see what we might offer, Anaxthenes thought. "I did not know that the Usurper now desires to extend his dominion into the Trygath. Kalvan's ambitions are legendary, but this effrontery is without precedent."

Nestros face purpled. "Hos-Rathon is a mighty Kingdom, comprised of nine principalities all united under Ourself as one Great Kingdom. In territory, We have more cubits than Hos-Zygros and Hos-Bletha combined." Nestros continued in this vein, recounting all the glories of his new kingdom.

Anaxthenes had to fight back a yawn.

Nestros finished with, "We are Kalvan's equal-not his vassal."

"Is that what the Usurper told you?" Highpriest Danthor asked, in a moderate tone of voice.

"Well, no. But he has negotiated with Us in good faith and aided Us in our victory over the Warlord Ranjar Sargos."

Anaxthenes nodded almost imperceptibly to Highpriest Danthor and he began speaking again. "Is this the Sargos who also now calls himself Var-Wannax, or Great King, of the Sastragath? The one who is now the Usurper's sworn ally?"

"Yes, but-"

Anaxthenes interrupted, "Now, looking into the future, say after the Usurper Kalvan defeats his rightful liege lord, Great King Lysandros of Hos-Harphax, what's to stop him from turning his army to the west against Rathon? I'm sure his good friend Wannax Sargos would love to annex part of your Kingdom-or split it with the Usurper. With strong allies to protect your flanks, this might be a matter of little concern. However, should you persist in this one-sided alliance with the Usurper, who calls himself a Great King, you could well lose your own throne to him or his ally, the self-proclaimed Great King of the Sastragath."

"Kalvan is a friend and a man of honor and it is not conceivable that he would act in such a dishonorable manner!"

"Are you a sworn ally of the self-proclaimed Great King Kalvan?" Danthor asked quietly.

Nestor's voice rose. "He has sworn to recognize my title as Great King of Hos-Rathon, but not to aid in the defense of my kingdom. Nor have I sworn to defend Hos-Hostigos."

"My point exactly. Thus, Kalvan could initiate an attack on Rathon without forswearing any oath or treaty: is this or is this not true?"

"That is true. He did offer to form an alliance, but I was the one who decided to forbear until after the war against the… the nomads."

Anaxthenes had to bite down on his laughter. Nestros had almost said 'Knights,' which would have opened up a nest of termites upon the fragile structure of this alliance he was putting together.

Highpriest Danthor continued his questions. "Are you sure that was your decision, or was it Kalvan who withheld from any binding agreement? He is known to be a man who takes great pains to present the appearance of great personal honor, while his friends and allies do as they please. Look at the plague his wife unleashed upon Prince Araxes of Phaxos, a man who had once been another ally, an ally who declined to swear fealty to the False Kingdom of Hostigos. A prince who paid dearly for his dalliance with the Usurper Kalvan, not only with his life, but also the lives of all his family and kin. Is this what you are courting here in Rathon?"