John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

Since Kynnos was having such great success laying all his ills at Kalvan's feet, he was not inclined to abandon this approach. "Yes, he is one of Kalvan's lesser devils. He speaks in strange tongues and talks of all manner of demonic devices. He is an artificer out of Regwarn's Caverns! I will bring him to your Chamber for Investigation."

Roxthar, as he made washing motions with his hands, gave him a smile that chilled him to the bone. "At last, one of Kalvan's devils to question! You have done well, Kynnos."

While Kynnos was not happy to be in Hostigos, it was much safer to be one of the Investigators than among the investigated-as all those Hostigi unfortunates were learning to their sorrow. "Thank you, Your Holiness."

"Captain Asthos, come here!"

The Guardsman came into the Chamber at a run. "Yes, Your Holiness."

Kynnos was finally going to get a reward. He wondered if it would be a comely wench or a fat purse of gold.

"Take this priest," Roxthar said, pointing to Kynnos, "to my Healer." Roxthar pulled up the sleeve of Kynnos' robe. "See this wound-he claims it is a bite mark from one of Kalvan's devils! Tell the Healer to amputate the arm before it inflames the body."

Kynnos blanched and his head started to reel.

He watched in shock as Roxthar gave him an imitation of a gentle smile. "We will save your life, Kynnos. And your spirit. But we will not be able to save your arm."

Kynnos fainted dead away.

When he awoke, Kynnos was tied to a cot in a dark tent. His arm was throbbing in pain. He tried to move his fingers, but they would not move. Why was he tied to the cot? He suddenly remembered Roxthar's words and looked to the side in horror, knowing full well what he was about to see-a bandaged stump.

He screamed and screeched until Captain Asthos came barging into the tent. "Shut up, heretic!"

"Heretic? What are you saying? Did you see what they did to my arm! I believe in the True God, the only god, Styphon!"

Asthos reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a small figurine of Dralm, a very familiar golden idol.

"That's not mine!"

"It was discovered in your boot, where you had hidden it, turncoat." Asthos smiled slyly. "I suppose you'll claim one of Kalvan's evil fireseed devils planted it there."

Kynnos was about to reply in the affirmative, when he realized that Asthos was a soldier, not a brain-addled highpriest. "You're a fighting man. You'll understand. I was given that little figurine in exchange for a Hostigi merchant's life-I took him to the slave pens instead of the Investigation."

Asthos gave a cat-like grin. "Taking bribes, betraying the Investigation-His Holiness will love to hear your story! He has far too many heretics in this foul land; he will enjoy Investigating a thieving priest for a change."

"I've got other pieces to trade-"

The Guardsman removed some rings and coins from his belt pouch. "Not anymore. Save your words, thief, for His Holiness. I also suggest you start formulating your apology to Styphon as well; you will be seeing him soon-or will it be Hadron?"

Kynnos started to protest, but the Guardsman silenced him by making a hand slice across his own throat. "Enough of your lies. Any more talk, any more screams, any more cries-" he paused to remove a knife from his belt, "and I will cut your tongue out at the root!"

Phidestros felt his guts twist as the vanguard of his Iron Band rode by a burning farmhouse. A child lay on the steps, his skull split.

In the farmyard itself, three of Roxthar's Holy Investigators were "questioning" a Hostigi woman, no doubt the child's mother. The Investigators wore hooded white robes with Styphon's red sun-wheel over the breast. The robes were well stained with mud and blood-some of the blood long dry.

"They can fight women and children well enough!" Geblon growled. "Where were Styphon's swine when we charged Kalvan's artillery batteries at Ardros Field!"

Phidestros leaned out of his saddle to grip his friend's hand before he could draw a pistol and do something foolish. Not that most of the Iron Band and Phidestros himself didn't feel the same way. Phidestros shut his ears against the woman's screams. At the very least: Why in the name of the Twelve True Gods couldn't the Investigators find private places to torture and maim their victims?

It was Archpriest Roxthar, of course: Roxthar, with the fanatic's blindness to the opinions of others and total sense of his own rightness. Roxthar had better learn discretion before the Grand Host itself began hunting Investigators, instead of Hostigi!

Phidestros led veterans, men accustomed to anger, violence, wounds, and death in all its myriad of forms. But, in the end, they were professional soldiers who didn't shirk from their duty, no matter how onerous. What they were not were butchers who reveled in killing like weasels among goslings.

Curse and blast the Holy Investigation and its heinous works! They were dragging honorable soldiers down into the same kind of sty they enjoyed, without doing Styphon's House on Earth all that much good. These priests needed to learn what his soldiers had learned in this campaign, if they wished to grow old: men made desperate by fear will fight to the last.

Phidestros twisted his head and flexed his shoulders as much as his armor would allow, easing his stiff muscles. He should be the happiest man in the Great Kingdoms; instead he felt more fear of the future than he had felt facing Kalvan and his Army of Hos-Hostigos.

Kalvan was not invincible. Ardros Field proved that. The greatest victory since Simocles the Great defeated the Ruthani Confederation at Sestra more than four centuries ago; won by a commander who three years ago was lucky to count two hundred soldiers following his banner! A victory so great that Styphon's House had sent out messengers to every Temple of Styphon in the Five Kingdoms with orders to celebrate this triumph with a feast of thanksgiving in every village, town and city!

The Grand Host had already set men to garrisoning captured castles. Fifteen thousand of the best were hard on the heels of the fleeing Royal Army of Hos-Hostigos. Phidestros knew he should be riding with those men instead of playing steward to Archpriest Roxthar and his Investigators. But two days earlier a letter had arrived from Great King Lysandros saying that he was on his way to Hostigos and there was to be a victory celebration in Hostigos Town with the investiture of the new Prince of Greater Beshta, "which includes the lands falsely claimed as the Princedom of 'Sashta' by the Usurper," to be "in attendance." So Lysandros was a man of his word. Good. Now, his first proclamation as Prince of Beshta would be a complete Ban of the Investigation in his territory.

As for his investiture as Prince of Beshta, not even Hadron's Hounds could keep him away!

He'd also learned from the letter that traveling with Lysandros was the new and rightful Prince of Hostigos, the newly crowned Prince Sthentros! Phidestros' head was still swimming with that news. He had heard rumors before leaving Hos-Harphax about the Baron's daughter and Lysandros, but had thought them malicious gossip at best. Maybe not? The wench did have a way about her and was comely indeed. As to whether or not Lavena was the spitting image of Great Queen Rylla-he would leave that to those who had seen them both. True, he'd been less than a horse length away from Great King Kalvan, but had never seen the Great Queen up close.

After the investiture, let Grand Master Soton besiege Tarr-Hostigos while Phidestros pressed the pursuit until the Usurper Kalvan was no more! The Grand Host was large enough for two credible forces, one to besiege Tarr-Hostigos, the other to run down Kalvan and his army.

As long as Kalvan was alive, he might rise again. A man who could conjure a Great Kingdom out of not much more than the gods' own air was no ordinary foe.