The Fireseed Wars

Rylla thought the Styphoni might believe the shots were coming from the flanks. The Styphoni owned the mouth of the Thagnor River with gun emplacements along the southwest bank of the river, which cut off all direct Hostigi and neutral shipping to Thagnor City from the Sea of Aesklos. However, Prince Phrames' cavalry patrols had kept the Styphoni to their side of the river by attacking any parties that attempted to cross the Thagnor River onto Gythan territory.

The Rathoni and Sastrathi irregulars, who were harrying the Grand Host, usually stayed about twenty marches away during the day. Still, it was conceivable that a small gun might have been moved to within firing distance of the encampment. That illusion would be dispelled in a moment.

"Fire!" Alkides cried.

All seven guns went off with a roar that shook the tower top. One of the shells went off prematurely and lit up the sky overhead like a miniature sun. The others dropped on the Grand Host like balls of lightning dropped from Allfather Dralm's Sky-Palace.

The Styphoni encampment exploded like an anthill kicked over by a bucking horse. A gun was fired in return from a Styphoni forward position; the ball struck the embankment that faced the wall and disappeared into the earth. The Styphoni guns were within easy range of the rifled cannon.

As the gunners reloaded and swabbed their gun barrels, Alkides studied the shell fuses. When he was satisfied, he gave them over to the shell holders and fuse lighters.

He turned to Rylla, saying, "Your Majesty, we don't really have to aim. Everywhere I look there are scrambling troops!"

"Try for their field guns first, then anything that looks like it might be a fireseed magazine or food depot. We won't kill enough of them to make any difference, but I want to make their lives so thoroughly miserable they'll pull up stakes and move."

It took most of the rest of the day before the Grand Host evacuated their camp and retreated some twelve or more marches away, where they were barely visible. Meanwhile, as long as concentrations of Styphoni were in range, shells kept dropping on their heads. Alkides' estimated the Host's casualties at six to seven thousand, most of them wounded. He doubted that many of them would ever fight again even if they survived their injuries.

The Grand Host left behind broken bodies, guns, supplies and burning buildings: the work of an entire moon. Rylla knew it had to be demoralizing, especially for Lysandros, whose own throne was on shaky ground. She hoped that the Harphaxi King would be the next to break off from the Grand Host. It would be too much to expect the rest of the Grand Host to retreat to Nythros, but if it happened it would be a wonderful homecoming present for her husband.

Rylla missed Kalvan terribly, especially now that she was expecting. She'd been pregnant before so she understood the waves of emotion that rocked her body, but that didn't make her any less lonely. With all her "uncles" dead or gone, she really had no one else to rely on. True, Lady Eutare was her friend and confidant, but now Eutare was busy with her wedding plans. She and Prince Phrames were to be married at the Harvest Feast, hopefully, after the Styphoni were gone.

Until Kalvan returned for his Victory March through the City, she was alone and without her best friend. Fortunately, little Demia took up much of her days. She also had to admit that Thagnor City and her new subjects were growing in her affection. Of course, Thagnor was not Hostigos Town, but it would suffice until they were ready to return.

II

The first Great King Lysandros knew of the Hostigi artillery attack was when he heard a huge explosion, then felt the building rock back and forth. The first blast was quickly followed-up by five or six more until all he could hear were the high-pitched screams of hurt and frightened horses. He pushed his way past his bodyguards and had to use his shoulder to force open the door. What met his eyes was total chaos: The Host's encampment appeared as if it had been attacked by Styphon's fire devils! Men and horses were running out of control in every direction.

Captain-General Demnos, with helmet missing, ran up to him shouting, "The Hostigi have our camp in gun range! We must evacuate immediately, Your Majesty!"

"What?… How? Where are their artillery?"

"They're firing from the South Tower."

"That's impossible!" Lysandros shouted as a new salvo of shells landed.

Smoke and dust roiled through the camp. A panic-stricken horse ran into a clump of soldiers, knocking several off their feet.

"Impossible or not, Your Majesty, they're doing it!" shouted Demnos. "We must leave before one of their shells hits a fireseed magazine!"

Somehow the Hostigi have pulled off a miracle, thought Lysandros, doubling the range of their artillery. It wasn't bad enough that we had to face their exploding shells, now they can reach us almost anywhere! Have the gods completely deserted our cause?