The Fireseed Wars

Verkan laughed. "As long as you don't step out of character, I don't see any problem." He longed for the days when he could work undercover and make decisions without outsight committees and newsies judging his every action.

"The Blethan Operation is going great; they've been unable to supply the Grand Host with a single company. I even ordered a copy of The Adventures of Robin Hood from stores. I've read and re-read the book half-a-dozen times. The genius part was Kalvan's idea of applying it to the situation in Hos-Bletha. We've been hijacking and ambushing Styphon's House priests and noblemen in our green jacks and green hose. The commoners love us. I myself haven't had this much fun in a hundred years! However, Styphon's House has put a price of twenty thousand gold rakmars on my head."

"Then don't get caught."

"I don't intend to, Chief. But we sure have Styphon's House in a lather."

"That's the goal, Ranthar. Your party is tying down several thousand troops that won't be able to join the Grand Host in their hunt for Kalvan."

Verkan noticed that the crowd had suddenly quieted; he looked up to see it breaking open for Danthor Dras, in his Styphon's House Inner Circle hooded yellow robe with the red border, signifying his rank as Archpriest. Everyone moved away from him as if he had a Fourth Level plague. Danthor looked every inch a Styphon's House Archpriest and his face was set in the grim demeanor that they habitually wore.

"Hello, Dras."

"Chief, I didn't expect to find you down here," he said with a welcoming smile. They clasped hands and began to walk toward the antigrav lift.

"I'm here to debrief Inspector Ranthor."

"Oh, the Man in Green, as Styphon's House calls him," Danthor said, with a smile. He turned to Ranthor: "You've caused the Inner Circle no end of headaches!"

"That's the plan."

"Well, it's working. I've been questioned by everyone from Styphon's Own Voice to some Blethan upperpriests about what to do about the Hos-Bletha rebellions. I'm the only Archpriest in the Inner Circle from Bletha so that's made me the local expert on all things Blethan. Fortunately, Anaxthenes has needed me to spy on Great King Cleitharses so no one's considered sending me to Bletha, so far."

"That could prove to be a problem. How is the old king?" Verkan asked.

"He died a ten-day ago from colon cancer," Danthor said, with a frown. "The horrible diseases these outtimers suffer… I don't know where they get their courage. Cleitharses lived three ten-days longer than anyone, including myself, expected. I think he was hanging on in hopes that his nephew would arrive."

"I read your report. Did he ever get Anaxon's reply to the phony letter?"

"No. If he had, it would have killed him right away. I still feel bad for giving that document to Anaxthenes and counterfeiting the new letter."

"Don't feel too bad," Verkan said. "When it comes to Outtime work, we all have to do what's necessary to maintain our covers, and, as an Archpriest of the Inner Circle, you're at the top of the heap on Kalvan's Time-Line."

"I've done worse things in my career than betray the old King, but I really liked him. Cleitharses was a good man and never meant anyone harm. Unfortunately, he was a weak ruler and allowed himself to be bullied by Styphon's House."

"Cleitharses should have been born a shopkeeper or music teacher," Verkan observed.

"He would have been much happier. Has anyone in Agrys City received word of Styphon's spring campaign?"

Verkan shook his head. "If Grand Master Soton bulldozes through Agrys City like he did with Hostigos Town, there won't be an independent kingdom on the eastern seaboard by the end of next year."

"That wouldn't be good for your friend Kalvan."

"Agreed. It would be a disaster. The fall of Hos-Agrys would allow Styphon's House to concentrate all its military, political and economic strength toward removing Kalvan no matter where he goes."

Danthor paused to remove his clay pipe from an inner pocket in his yellow robe.

"Come on, let's go to my office, Danthor. You, too, Ranthar."

The three of them took the antigrav lift to the Paratime Police Chief's office. All three were smoking by the time they reached Verkan's horseshoe desk in his private office.

"My whole life, I never thought I'd be invited into this-the inner sanctum of the Paratime Police," Danthor said, "at least, not as a free man."

They all chuckled.

Danthor's disdain for the Paratime Police had been legendary. Or at least up until a year ago, Verkan thought. Thanks to fast-unfolding events at Balph we settled our mutual differences and found out we actually liked one another.

Before sitting, Verkan took out a flask with a fancy glass stopper in the shape of a halberd head and of obvious outtime manufacture, offering everyone a drink.

"I haven't had that in a while," Ranthar Jard mentioned.

"This is pretty raw brandy," Danthor said, making a face and drawing back from his glass. "What time-line is this from?"