John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

Anaphon looked like a man who had just sucked a lemon dry. "Are you implying that because I have never fought personally against the Daemon King that I could not defeat him?"

Phidestros paused to tap the tobacco out of his pipe, thinking if the boot fits, pull it on! However, one did not maintain command of the Grand Host by insulting his Great King's favorites to their face.

Before Phidestros could speak, Knight Commander Orocles butted in. "The Grand Captain-General is too much a gentleman and good superior commander to give a candid answer. I, however, answer to no one but my god and Grand Master Soton. King Kalvan devours inexperienced commanders much like the Daemon Ormaz eats the dead in Regwarn. To defeat Kalvan we must remain united among ourselves under commanders, such as Captain-General Phidestros and Grand Master Soton. To do anything else would be sheer folly, one that the Order may well decline to participate in."

There was dead quiet. Orocles was known to have the Grand Master's ear and wouldn't be speaking thus unless he were reflecting Soton's own thoughts.

Anaphon, his face flushed, rose to his feet with his hand grasping his sword hilt. Orocles stood to his full height, half a head taller than the burly Captain-General.

Lysandros, obviously not wanting an incident that could splinter the Grand Host, put his hand on Anaphon's sword arm with such pressure his hand turned the color of chalk. "Sit down, Captain-General, or your next rank will be that of Grand-Captain of Latrines!"

White-faced, Captain-General Anaphon sat back in his seat.

"Grand Captain-General Phidestros, I would like to compliment you upon your success. You have gathered the greatest force in the history of the Five Kingdoms and appear to be firmly in the saddle. We have complete faith and confidence in your abilities to command the Grand Host. We pray for your continued success in Hostigos. To Grand Captain-General Phidestros, a toast!"

Servants quickly brought everyone at the table a goblet of potent winter wine.

Phidestros diplomatically countered, "To a noble and wise Great King!"

Lysandros, who knew how to lose gracefully, nodded ironically. But the message in his eyes was crystal clear. Defeat Kalvan and glory is yours. Lose and you will spend eternity in the deepest pit in the Cavern of the dead

As a pile of parchments slipped off his desk and fell to the stone, floor, Phidestros watched in disgust. Requisitions and muster lists were still piled chin-high, and he was spending yet more precious time jawing with the Holy Investigator, who kept sniffing around the Grand Host for heretics! He was coming to the conclusion that Grand Master Soton was right about appointing junior officers to take care of the detail work.

The forward arm of the Grand Host was stalled outside, while the remainder wintered in Tarr-Harphax and Tarr-Aeygos. He couldn't wait until they entered Hostigi territory so Roxthar would stop climbing over his shoulders.

He was still beating his head against his desk trying to figure out how to break into Tarr-Locra, the most fiendishly designed castle he'd ever encountered. The tarr was built in the shape of a multi-pointed star, with long killing lanes for gunfire that would decimate any siege train that approached the walls-another of Kalvan's innovations, he was sure. Sometimes he thought he was fighting for the wrong side in this war.

If the Grand Host couldn't get past Tarr-Locra they'd have to go around through the rolling hills of Beshta to the steep and high ridges of the Besh Valley, Sashta, Sask and Hostigos, which would be expensive in both men and animals. He was pushing his hand through a pile of parchments to find his tinderbox when he heard a knock at the door. "Come in," he responded.

General Geblon came into the room leading a haughty man in the fur-lined robes of a nobleman. Geblon winked and said, "I'd like to introduce Baron Sthentros, late of Hos-Hostigos, and the cousin of Prince Ptosphes. He has come to share his knowledge of Kalvan's army, fortifications and weapons."

Phidestros bolted upright in his chair. "Your Lordship, I'm pleased to meet you."

The Baron looked at Phidestros as though he were looking down rather than up. "Yes, I'm sure. I've only come to you because I believe that this man who calls himself Great King Kalvan is a fraud, and is not of noble blood. He has bewitched my uncle, Prince Ptosphes, and married my cousin under false pretenses!"

Phidestros watched as Sthentros actually sniffed in disdain, then he paused to remove something from inside his robe-a move that had Phidestros grabbing his hideaway gun. He only stopped when he saw that it was a snuffbox. The Baron never noticed.

Geblon looked flustered, then quickly made the motions of patting himself down behind the Baron's back, letting Phidestros know the Hostigi had been frisked. Phidestros let out a deep breath.

"Would you like a drink, Your Lordship?"

The Baron nodded, while Phidestros motioned for Geblon to bring some winter wine. Geblon might be a general in the Harphaxi Army, but he was still Phidestros' right hand man and understood that Phidestros didn't trust, or feel comfortable, around civilians, one of the reasons that he still resided at the One-Eyed Boar rather than a manor in Harphax City- despite his new wealth.

Phidestros used the interruption to pull out his tinderbox and light his burl pipe. After drinks had been served, he asked, "Why do you believe that Kalvan has risen above his station, Your Lordship?"

"When King Kalvan arrived in Hostigos, calling himself Lord Kalvan- Lord of what, I ask you?-he refused to give me any information on his lineage save that he was a 'Blue Blood' and born with a 'Silver Spoon.' What kind of nonsense is that?"

Phidestros didn't bother to reply: the fool didn't know when he was being given wet powder. Still, Sthentros might prove to be the best door out of the blind alley he found himself in. "Maybe you can answer some questions for us?"

"Of course, why else do you think I'm here? However, I would like to ascertain what my position will be after the war is concluded."

Phidestros clenched and unclenched his hands, while putting on a false smile. "I'm sure a suitable position will be found for you within Hostigos after the war."

"Good. Since I am a member of the princely family, I suggest that I would be the ideal candidate to rule as Prince of Hostigos."

Lysandros had even less love for traitors than Phidestros. But Phidestros had no trouble letting this treacherous swine believe whatever he wanted to think. "I personally could promise you a title of nobility equal to your own in Beshta after the war, provided that your information is of value. Anything beyond Baron is the province of Great King Lysandros; however, I can promise to arrange a Royal Audience."

Sthentros looked smug. "I thought so. My wife didn't want to leave Hostigos, but I told her that the information here," he paused to point to his skull, "was worth its weight in gold. I also want to assure you that I've always been a follower of the True God, Styphon, despite the persecution we believers have suffered in Hostigos."

Phidestros struggled to keep a smile off his face. He couldn't wait until he introduced Sthentros to Roxthar.

"Now you can ask me any questions you have about Hos-Hostigos and the Royal Army and I will do my best to answer them."

"How many men has Kalvan mustered out for his armies?"

"Thousands upon thousands. They crowd us out of Hostigos Town! It's a crime. It's getting so that one can't even find a willing wench who will take less than three pieces of silver. The taverns are so crowded that everyone has to sit together!"

Phidestros reined in his temper. "What I need to know are troop depositions, how many musketeers, how many pikemen, how many cavalry, those kinds of things."