The Fireseed Wars

"Take the Prince to an Uncle Wolf and get ready to withdraw," Hestophes ordered. "I'm going to use the reserve in a feint, to make Soton believe that we're going to blindside him. He'll have to pull his forces short and redress his lines. That'll give our soldiers time to retreat to the nearest tarr, which is Tarr-Malthros, over here.

"Now, get moving, Dralm-damn all of you!"

III

Prince Phidestros looked up when he heard the knock at his door. "Who is it?" he asked.

"It's Geblon, Your Highness. May I come in?"

He turned to look at Arminta, who was seated on the stone platform before the hearth and tending a small fire. The bulge at her belly was getting bigger. She smiled at him and nodded. By next fall they would have the first of many children and the beginnings of a dynasty.

"Come in."

Geblon took a seat on one of the stools and said, "Another messenger from Great Queen Lavena just arrived. Do you want to see him now or later, Captain?"

"I take it you or Kyblannos have already debriefed him."

"Yes, Kyblannos took him to the kitchen and siphoned out all the latest news. It appears that the Chancellor had to order martial law and put forth a curfew to try to stop the latest riots in Harphax City. It didn't work. About a fifth of the City has already been torched, and now the riots are spreading into the merchants' quarter. Chancellor Lyphannes now refuses to do anything, but guard the palace. I believe the Queen is going to implore you for aid. Her subjects are crying out for Prince Selestros to be given his rightful Throne. Some of the Princes are getting restive, too."

"The Queen is now running the Kingdom! What about Duke Kaphros? I thought Great King Lysandros left him in charge of the Kingdom."

"In her last letter," Arminta said, "my cousin mentioned that the Duke was suffering from a severe lung ailment; he was coughing, having trouble breathing and complaining of severe stabbing pains in his chest. Baltros, the Royal Healer, ordered him to his bed and was treating him with mustard plasters, cupping and flaxseed poultices. At seventy winters, there is great concern whether he will ever rise from his bed again."

Kaphros was a former soldier and respected commander; it was unfortunate that illness had done what enemy swords could not. He had met with Chancellor Lyphannes the last time he was in Harphax City. The Chancellor was good with numbers, but useless with men. He was bad at dissembling and stuttered before those he feared. Lysandros, it appeared, had picked two men with different but complementary abilities. What better way to protect his Throne, as long as they both remained well.

"I didn't think things would go to Regwarn so quickly," Phidestros said.

"I told you, my love. You've always overestimated Lysandros' hold on Harphax City. His grip is even lighter in the princedoms. True or not, many in the streets believe him to be a regicide."

"What about this reformed Selestros?" Phidestros asked. "Would it be in our interest to aid him in any way?"

Arminta paused to rub her chin. "Selestros is of unknown character and authority. We know he claims to have been visited by Allfather Dralm. This means that he will never be a tool of Styphon's House and, with Hos-Agrys under attack by Soton, he may prove a useful ally in the future. I also believe he can be manipulated. We have the soldiers to put him on the Iron Throne and see that he is Elected King, and to take him off should he prove recalcitrant or betray our trust. The Electors would love to see Lysandros deposed and empty a privy bucket on Styphons House."

"So the Electors claim, but aren't these the same fools that Elected Lysandros Great King?"

"Yes, but they foolishly believed that they could control Lysandros. They did not realize how deeply his hands were in Styphon's robe. Now that the Host of Styphon's Deliverance is besieging Agrys City, the Princes are fearful that Styphon's House will own Hos-Harphax because our king is in their pocket."

"Shoot me, if he isn't!" Phidestros laughed. "Rather than deal with his bunch of backstabbers, wouldn't it be easier to march my army into Harphax City, restore order and declare myself Great King?"

"Initially, but as a former Zygrosi, you have no claim to the Iron Throne. The Beshtans accept you as Prince, because they've had so many overlords they'd accept Ormaz himself if he promised peace!" She held up her hand. "Husband, remember you do have a line of descent to the Ivory Throne. If we can put our own claimant on the Iron Throne, that will help our cause in Hos-Zygros considerably.

"And," she continued, "I know my people. They will tolerate tyrants of their own blood, but never an outsider."

Phidestros rubbed his temples. "All this political wrangling gives me a headache. The course of battle is much clearer and the results more permanent."

Arminta laughed. "I think it's fun. I never dreamed I'd be in a position to play kingmaker! Husband, I believe it's time to take the Army to Harphax City and end the disorder."