The Fireseed Wars

"Well, of course," Geblon returned, "poor Anaphon's in Hadron's Privy Pit, while Tythos is still alive. Who's to dispute his word-not those poor wretches that came streaming in behind him. The best of them, the gaol scrapings of the Five Kingdoms, and all that poppycock about Agrysi troopers fighting under Kalvan's banners."

"No, Tythos got that right," Phidestros said. "Everyone who was close to the disaster swears an oath that they saw Agrysi banners and the standards of Duke Mnestros. So there's some truth to that rumor."

"With that Dralm-blasted traitor, Demistophon, anything's possible," Geblon replied. "I fought in two campaigns in Hos-Agrys; the one sponsored by Great King Demistophon was the most slipshod, disorganized cat and dog fight I ever witnessed with these two eyes."

"This just proves they should have let you chase Kalvan the way you wanted, Captain-General," Kyblannos said.

He nodded. "Too late, now. I'm still waiting for orders."

Kyblannos shook his head. "Everyone wants to share the glory in a successful war and, from what I've heard, they all believe you've had more than your share. An old Agrysi comrade, who enlisted in Styphon's Own Guard, told me that Roxthar wants to split the army, send half of the Host against Kalvan and the other half against Great King Demistophon."

Phidestros shot up onto his feet, his pipe flying. "What? Arch-Butcher Roxthar now wants to divide my command, now that we finally have the opportunity to tree Kalvan and put him away for once and for all."

Kyblannos held a big horn-nailed finger to his mouth. "Hush! In Hostigos Town even the plaster walls have ears."

"But what has Demistophon done?"

Kyblannos lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "Demistophon didn't contribute any troops to the Grand Host, nor would he allow his vassals to do so. Now that he's allowed his Princes, or the League of Dralm, to attack the Host, Roxthar believes this is proof that he is in league with Kalvan. He wants to punish him, maybe Investigate the Agrysi. The League of Dralm has stuck in his craw like a finger bone. And, Roxthar blames Demistophon for not closing the League's shop down two winters ago."

Phidestros bent over to pick up his pipe, then sat back down. "Total lunacy! He acts as if Kalvan has run to ground, when he's still loose with almost half his army. The Grand Host is ready to march now. Every day we delay is another gift to Kalvan; time to run, time to rest his troops, time to recruit allies."

Both generals nodded their agreement. Kyblannos added, "Roxthar is a priest, not a military man; he doesn't understand momentum or how quickly it can dissipate. Kalvan's troops have lost their homes; they are weary, exhausted and their morale at its lowest ebb. This is the time to hunt him down and destroy the remnants of his army and his subjects."

Phidestros shook his head. "We can't afford to allow the Hostigi to retreat into the Middle Kingdoms. We have no allies there and Styphon's House has been overcharging them for inferior fireseed for years. Now, thanks to Kalvan, they can make their own. What do they owe Styphon's House or any army financed by the Temple?"

Geblon answered, "The blades of their swords. Yet, it is also true that few of those kingdoms who live by the Saltless Seas will welcome the former Great King Kalvan and his battle-weary soldiers and motley army of subjects."

"Which makes it even more urgent to chase him down now, before he makes his move," Phidestros said. "Kalvan has a genius for making friends: Look at how he was able to turn that barbarian Sargos into a close ally. King Nestros, too. It was not Kalvan's fault Nestros stabbed him in the back. Right now, we have our best opportunity to strike the demoralized Hostigi army, to kill Kalvan and to put paid to his legend."

Geblon was about to speak when a loud knock halted their conversation.

"What is it?" Geblon asked.

"A visitor, a Captain Ranthos. He wears the uniform of Styphon's Own Guard."

They all spat on the plank floor.

"He says it is urgent. He gave me a dispatch."

Geblon sighed and opened the door, taking the offered parchment. "You can leave." He shut the door and walked it over to his commander.

Phidestros opened the parchment and read: "I am wearing a disguise. To demonstrate my trust, I will tell you that I am a Greffan, who was working in the Royal Foundry of Hos-Hostigos. I was able to escape the night the Investigators attacked us and have been on the run ever since. I am in contact with other Hostigi, including Saski and Nostori who are interested in becoming your subjects. If you listen to me, I believe I can present you with a proposition worth your time."

Kyblannos whistled. "That must be some story."

Geblon nodded. "Shall I have him brought in?"

Phidestros smiled. "I have long desired to hear from my new subjects."

They all laughed.

"Bid him enter, but disarm him first."

"In case Roxthar's up to something?"

"Exactly."