The Fireseed Wars

The royal bedchamber was drafty with walls of stone, overlaid with tapestries and wall hangings, which provided a modicum of protection. While the cold in Tarr-Thagnor was even chillier than in his uncle and aunt's house, he had the advantage of a bearskin comforter and Rylla snuggled up beside him. He was about to drop off to sleep when there was a gentle knock at the chamber door.

Kalvan carefully got out of the blankets and comforter and rubbed his hands together briskly. Hostigos had never been this cold, not even during the Winter of the Wolves! He slipped into his silver fox slippers and put on his sable robe, tiptoeing to the door. He didn't want to wake Rylla unless absolutely necessary. Due to her new pregnancy, she was as hot-tempered as crackling bacon.

He opened the door a crack, asking, "Who is it?"

"Cleon, Your Majesty. Word has come that a boat bearing the standard of Duke Mnestros of Eubros has docked at the City Wharves. Captain-General Hestophes ordered me to wake you and inform you of the Duke's arrival."

"Excellent, you are dismissed. Go back to sleep. You look bushed."

"As do you, sire."

"Yes, but I'm not allowed to be." Not when a potential ally arrives by boat this late in the season. Has Mnestros also been exiled, driven from Hos-Agrys by Styphon's House?

"Neither am I, sire. I will clear the table and see that some fresh tea and Ermut's Best is brought from the kitchen."

"Thank you, Cleon."

"What is it, my husband?"

"A friend has arrived."

Rylla, her black bearskin comforter dropping to her waist, used her tinderbox to light an oil lamp in a sconce next to the bed. "I will join you, then."

Kalvan looked at his wife and took a deep breath. Sometimes this kingship thing is harder than it looks, he thought, wanting nothing more than to take his wife in his arms. As she dressed, he could see the swelling in her belly. From how she was showing, he put the date of conception to about the time she left Ulthor Port last summer. It was too early to tell the Court or his subjects, but in the long run a boy child would weld his new Kingdom together better than anything else but a triumphant victory over Styphon's Grand Host. If it's another daughter, well, Praise Dralm anyway; if nothing else, this will keep Rylla out of the path of any stray bullets this coming spring.

As soon as they were both informally dressed, they went into the antechamber where they found Captain-General Hestophes pacing back and forth.

"Any word yet?" Kalvan asked, as he sat down in a royal-red padded chair.

Hestophes shook his head. "I only know that the Duke would not make a trip this time of year unless it was bad news."

Duke Mnestros was one of their few trusted allies in Kingdom of Hos-Agrys; he had even joined them with his household troops for several campaigns. Mnestros was bright, not afraid of innovation and he soaked up information like a sponge. Kalvan could have used a hundred allies just like him.

Cleon arrived with three mugs of ginseng tea and a small cask of Ermut's Best. He poured tea for Kalvan and Rylla and filled Hestophes' goblet with brandy.

The three of them discussed next year's campaign, which included an attack on Greffa-now that the Grefftscharri were known allies of Styphons House-down across the lower Michigan peninsula, then up to Greffa City.

He had considered using the Maumee River (called the Erkfryn River here-and-now), which was navigable to shallow draft boats and provided an easy invasion route directly to Greffa City, but that might start a war with his neighbors, the Morthroni, who had an alliance with Grefftscharr. Plus, the Maumee corridor was heavily guarded with watchtowers and a series of forts, or varts as the Urgothi called them. Hopefully, a strike at Greffa would force King Theovacar to abandon his planned attack on Thagnor, or at the very least recall some of his troops to protect his capital.

Kalvan was on his second mug of tea when Cleon arrived with Duke Mnestros in tow. The young Duke looked exhausted, with deep weather lines in his face. If you took away the hair on top, he would have been the spitting image of his father, or at least the portrait of Prince Thykarses that Kalvan had seen.

Kalvan rose and the two men hugged and clasped each other's shoulders.

"Your Majesty, it is good to see you again. And you Great Queen Rylla, as well as my friend. Captain-General, is it now?"

Hestophes smiled.

"How was your journey?" Kalvan asked.

The Duke shook his head. "Rough, very rough. I'd rather face a Wedge of Zarthani Knights than another attack of those northern storm waves."

"Then whatever brought you here must be important, Duke."

"Yes, Your Majesty. The Five Kingdoms are abuzz with the news of your conquest of Thagnor. When do you plan to return to Hostigos?"

Kalvan shrugged. "We still have the Grand Host of Styphon waiting in the wings for spring. They field twice the manpower our new Kingdom of Nos-Hostigos can mobilize. We may be here for awhile."