John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

While his mind pondered the capriciousness of fate and the indifference of gods and men alike, a young girl, her blonde hair cascading down her back in ringlets, was brought into the cell by the man in black. Her entrance was shortly followed by a chorus of shrill screams and a primal growling like that of some beast. Then the cell door slammed shut.

A long time later, when the flame from his oil lamp began to flicker and grow dim, the cell door creaked open, revealing Roxthar, his apron dripping with fresh blood. "Your false priest has given me the names of every blasphemer he knows. We will quickly pluck the garden of Balph of all worshippers of the False God. You have done Styphon's work today, boy. The girl was his weakness."

He threw a handful of bloody, broken teeth at the boy's feet. Some, Myros noted, were quite small.

"Is she…?"

"She rests with her father. I have said a prayer over her body and asked Styphon to accept her in his Hall. She was too young to know Dralm or any other of the false gods."

If only there was a god-somewhere, anywhere-to forgive me for what I have done! Now that I am no longer of use, what new purpose will this monster bend me to now?

"The last apprentice I Investigated informed me that you know your letters. Is this true?"

"Yes, Holy One. Mistress Jomna-" he paused to stop the involuntary circle he'd been about to make around his breast, a sign of the Allfather. Myros gulped. "The false priest's wife taught me well."

"That is what one of the other apprentices, one who was not so cooperative, told us. He will no longer be able to use his right hand, but he has renounced Dralm and accepted Styphon as the True God-as you have."

Roxthar paused to stare into his eyes as though he could peer right through the surface pools and bore into Myros' mind. "Is your faith true?"

"Oh, yes, Your Holiness," Myros said, unable to keep his voice from trembling.

"We will see. For now, you will be my new scribe."

Myros fought the scream that tore at the back of his throat. "Y-y-yes, Holy One."

"First, I must teach you the True Words. How when the Dark God Hadron released the Fireseed Demons upon the Earth, it was Styphon who left the Cloud Temple to take his message to all the mortals. His words fell upon the Earth like rain, but Dralm's evil worshippers caught them with their hands and swallowed them so no one would realize that their False God was the one who convinced Hadron to release his Fireseed Demons…"

Myros tried to focus his attention on the Evil One's words, because he knew that someday soon he would be called upon to repeat them. Still, he could not escape from the lonely scream that echoed at the back of his skull.

The guard to the Great King's private chamber held the ceremonial copper halberd before him with the double-bladed head facing Phidestros. He stomped the butt down on the floor twice and announced, "You may enter, Captain-General Phidestros! Great King Lysandros is expecting you."

Lysandros sat in his high-backed chair stroking his goatee with one hand while holding a goblet of wine in the other. Lysandros pointed to a shorter chair. "Have a seat, Captain-General."

Phidestros took the seat and tried to will his heart to beat at a measured cadence. This was his first visit to the palace since his return to Tarr-Harphax, after his successful capture of Tarr-Veblos. Soon Grand Master Soton and whatever temple rats he brought with him from Balph would enthrone Lysandros Great King of Hos-Harphax, giving Lysandros his lifelong wish to sit upon the Iron Throne. Still, Lysandros' temperament was mercurial; one needed a soothsayer to foresee all his moods.

Lysandros lit his pipe, drew deeply, exhaled and then began to speak. "Grand Master Soton had good things to say about your work with the Royal Army before he left for Balph. He believes that you have done wonders with the re-building of the Harphaxi Army. As a reward for your efforts and the taking of the Beshtan tarr," Lysandros held up a bank draft, "I present you with this draft on Styphon's Great Banking House for ten thousand golden rakmars. Like Soton, I believe in rewarding success, as well as punishing failure."

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" He was frozen to his seat. Of all the things he had expected, a Styphon's House draft redeemable in gold was absolutely last on the list.

"Keep up the good work and when this Usurper is vanquished you may yet receive the princedoms I promised."

Phidestros was pleased to hear that Lysandros remembered his promise to grant him the Princedoms of Beshta and Sashta after King Kalvan was defeated. Most kings and princes had poor memories when it came to such promises, especially those spoken in private and not put to parchment. As a man and as a Great King, Lysandros had his faults; fortunately, being an oath-breaker was not one of them. If Lysandros' aim was to urge him to win the war, he could not have picked a better incentive.

"The Grand Master did bring up one important point."

Here it comes, thought Phidestros. The blade between the shoulders!

"Soton believes that the Army needs to be blooded. Holding them outside of the Phaxi borders while the Hostigi sacked Phaxos Town was not good for morale. True, your siege of Tarr-Veblos was a great victory, but it was the cavalry who swept the field. Soton believes that if the foot soldiers have a taste of victory, they will fall upon Kalvan's troopers like wolves."

"I agree, Your Majesty. It would be very good for morale. But already the Allmother Festival approaches and soon the roads will be impassable." If Lysandros wanted him to re-capture Phaxos from the occupying Hostigi, Phidestros would do everything in his power to discourage him. If not, he might be fighting three armies, the Hostigos Phaxosi army of occupation, the Hostigos Army of Observation and the Beshtan Army under Prince Phrames.

Lysandros paused to blow out a cloud of smoke. "True. So we must make this campaign fast and hard. I have decided that it is time to clean out that wasp's nest in Thaphigos and take the false prince Eltar prisoner."

Phidestros took a deep breath and relaxed. In his heart, Phidestros agreed that the Royal Army needed to take to the field; he just hoped it wasn't too soon. If it was, this bank draft might be his only reward. There was, however, greater consolation in the fact that he wouldn't be facing the Hostigi this time. The Thaphigosi army was neither large nor well armed.

"An excellent choice, Your Majesty. It will also prove our mettle to Great King Demistophon in case he has any ideas of annexing Phaxos, Thaphigos and Argros, while we are fighting the Usurper's army next spring." This was exactly what Phidestros would have done in Demistophon's boots: annex the three Princedoms while the Army of Harphax was in Hos-Hostigos and then station enough troops there that Lysandros would have to live with it-or face another major war. With Phaxos held by a Hostigi puppet Prince and supported by Kalvan's troops, Prince Soligon of Argros sympathetic to the League of Dralm and Thaphigos still reeling from civil war, the entire corner of Hos-Harphax was ripe for the picking.

Lysandros shook his head with a pained expression. Then in a low voice, as if talking to himself, he said, "I fear you are right. This is why I cannot lead my own Army against Kalvan. The greatest campaign of my life and a jumped up mercenary captain will be fighting my war…"

Phidestros quietly left the chamber, with the Styphon's House parchment cradled in his arms. He started mentally sorting through the Royal Army, deciding which units would remain billeted at Tarr-Harphax and which ones would be going into the field.

The Princedom of Thaphigos had been leaderless for so long, until Prince Eltar had been invested, he was certain the Princedom's defenses were in shambles. However, Phidestros would have to talk to Grand-Captain Kyblannos who, in his never-ending store of tales, boasted of having been in every tinpot army in Hos-Harphax. If Kyblannos didn't have an answer on the tip of his tongue, he'd know which soldiers to ask.