John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

"Hestophes, it's worse than you think. For the past week all the semaphore messages received at Tarr-Hostigos have been phonies, saying that the Styphoni forces were gathering to besiege Tarr-Locra." The reason Kalvan had spent so much of his precious Beshtan resources building the massive fortifications at Tarr-Locra was that the fort blocked the eastern entrance, from Hos-Harphax, into the west bank of the Harph to the Besh and then up the Besh Valley. The Styphoni had to take Tarr-Locra to reach the Harph River, or else they would have to enter Hos-Hostigos the rough way, through the mountains of Beshta and Sashta, the route Soton had taken to the Phyrax battlefield two years ago.

Tarr-Locra was a tough nut to crack and could hold out for moons; if Phidestros had realized that and just put a token force there, he could have easily hit Beshta unaware from Tarr-Veblos, with only Prince Phrames and his Besthan Army to block him. Meanwhile, the Army of Observation was sitting on its thumbs guarding Tarr-Locra from a detached force, while Phidestros was advancing through Sashta and Sask toward Hostigos. It was a brilliant plan, Kalvan marveled, worthy of the man who made the legendary mad ride to join the Holy Host after Chothros Heights.

"Your Majesties, I thought you knew. A large portion of the Grand Host entered Beshtan territory about a quarter-moon ago. I thought this was why I had been recalled to Hostigos Town. I was about to tender my resignation."

"No. You were recalled because Harmakros' wounds have not improved. His leg is still infected with fester devils so he will not be able to ride or lead the army. I needed you here to take over as Grand Captain-General of the Royal Army."

Hestophes' eyes grew wide. "Me! Why not Prince Phrames or someone of noble blood?"

"Because you are the best man for the job. Phrames has his own duties as Prince of Beshta. Ptosphes is needed as First Prince of Hos-Hostigos. There are no others but my wife. And she is needed to care for our child."

Kalvan was just glad he was out of elbow distance when he made that last statement. As it was, he got the grandmother of all dirty looks.

"We have agreed that you are the best man for the job," Rylla added. "You have Our faith."

Hestophes bowed his head and when he looked up again there was a steely look of determination on his face. "I will not fail Your Majesties. This is a post to which I never dreamed to ascend. I give you my life."

"That will not be necessary, Hestophes. Just fight to the best of your ability. No one expects miracles. Although if Father Dralm should strike the entire Styphoni Grand Host with the pox We would build him the greatest Temple ever seen!"

Rylla let forth an exaggerated sigh. "Allfather Dralm, he does not mean these words."

"Now, tell us more about the invasion of Beshta."

"Yes, Your Majesty. The weather along the border has been unseasonably good and at first, when the Styphoni advanced, we thought it was another feint by the Grand Host to test our resolve. Our light cavalry have been attacking their scouts and supply trains all winter.

"When they easily repulsed our first attacks, I began to realize the entire host was on the move. That is when I sent the first message to warn Your Majesty. Despite the mud and rain of the past three days, the Grand Host has advanced quickly and has taken most of our border forts and two tarrs. They have many large siege guns with huge crews to man them and captured Beshtans to move them into position."

"Already, they take revenge upon Our people," Kalvan said through pursed lips, as he saw hundreds of captives using ropes and pulleys to manhandle the massive two hundred pound bombards up and down hills. While this tactic might save a few teams of horses for other chores, it wasn't really cost-effective-more a terror tactic. It forced the Hostigi defenders to fire upon their own people, or take fire from these huge guns.

"Worse than revenge, Your Majesty. Archpriest Roxthar, the Holy Investigator, is Investigating all captured Hos-Hostigi. I am told that those who immediately recant their faith in Dralm are allowed to haul the guns. The rest, including women and children, are best not seen again."

"How do you know?"

"My men captured a small party of Investigators and their victims. All the poor wretches were mercifully put to death at my order. The Investigators were taken to Tarr-Locra, put into the large guns, and shot over the walls."

The haunted look of horror that crossed Hestophes' face made Kalvan burn with fury. "Here we were planning our attack, while they bring the war to us. Now it is my duty as Great King to bring it to them!"

"But Kalvan," Rylla said. "If we move now, we are but marching to Phidestros and Soton's tune. Let us wait and meet them in Hostigos, after Phrames has drawn their blood."

Like most Zarthani who had never known wars of religion, Rylla had no idea of how zealots could scour a land of its people. For example, King Henry's armies had killed tens of thousands of Huguenots, including women and children, in their desire to rid France of Protestant heresy. "No, we cannot wait. With Roxthar's Investigation leading the Grand Host, there will be no people to rule even if we win the war. We had a General Sherman in my homeland who burned the land to the ground, and he was a man of peace in comparison to this bloody butcher who calls himself an Investigator."

"You are more knowledgeable in matters of war, my husband, than I myself. However, let us wait at least until the roads are no longer running like rivers."

Rylla was right. To march the army in this weather would leave it weakened and scattered long before they reached the enemy. "We will wait until the rain has stopped. Then we must leave. When we learned that Lysandros had promised Captain-General Phidestros the Princedoms of Beshta and Sashta, I had hoped the Captain-General's self-interest would protect our people. Now I see behind King Lysandros' generosity. Give Phidestros lots of land, but turn it into a desert before he gets it."

"I fear you are right, my husband. In any case, Phidestros will be too busy worrying over his soldiers to protect civilians he may or may not one day rule. You are right in this thing too: without our people, we have no Kingdom."

And I have brought to this fair land that which I had most hoped to leave behind, a religious war. One that may quickly prove to be as bad, if not worse, than those of my own world.

Phidestros cursed the fog, the drizzling rain, the mud and the weather goddess all in one sentence as his horse plunged up to her fetlocks in what had looked to be firm ground. Some of the mud splashed on his gilded armor and he cursed all customs which required army commanders to wear equipment more suited to a pavane in Harphax City than a march across hostile terrain. Not that his mud-splattered armor and red and yellow plumage looked all that glamorous at the present moment.

A petty-captain reined up next to him. "The Grand Master's temporary headquarters is close. I will ride ahead and let him know you are arriving."

Phidestros nodded his approval. The temporary headquarters were not too grand, a confiscated farmhouse, but he hoped it would be dry and heated by a roaring fire. The first units of Kalvan's van had been spotted earlier in the day and a council of the Grand Host's commanders was needed.

Phidestros' horse stumbled again, almost pitching him head first into the mud. He tightened his grip on the pommel and let loose a litany of curses so vile his bodyguards gave off a cheer when he was finished.

So legends are made, he thought wryly. If the truth were known, he'd much rather be commanding the Iron Band and searching for Kalvan's outriders. This grand commander business was harder on both head and arse than honest soldiering-and a lot less fun.