The Fireseed Wars

"Agreed," Aristocles said, as he wiped ale foam from his mustache. "And we may not want to stop it. Some of the mercenaries are already talking about slipping out at night and sacking his headquarters. If it weren't for the two bands of Styphon's Own Guard outside the Investigation headquarters, it would have already been done."

"It's bad enough they torture civilians day and night," Soton said bitterly, "but the women and children, too? How in Styphon's name can this Investigation be anything but Ormaz's work?"

Aristocles grimaced. "The Investigator is a mad dog. He should have his throat slit and body burned."

Sarmoth intoned quietly, "Should we be speaking of this matter at all? I hear that he has Styphon's Own Ears all over the camp."

"Thank you, for your concern, Sergeant," Aristocles said. "However, I have seen fit to surround the Grand Master's tent with our most loyal veterans. Even if we spoke thus before the tent, not a word would leave this camp. Our men have orders to strangle any would-be intelligencers that attempt to enter our camp, regardless of Roxthar's threats."

"Enough!" Soton snapped. "We have plans to make. Sesklos' death couldn't have come at a worse time. Right in the middle of our preparations to chase and destroy the Usurper."

Aristocles nodded. "We could not have given the Usurper Kalvan a better gift."

"True. With Phidestros leaving with most of the Host's mercenaries, Lysandros demanding to be Grand Captain-General of the Host and High Marshal Anaxon dragging his feet and squawking about the will of Great King Cleitharses, I'll be lucky to find anything left of this Host by the time I return from Balph."

"We will not leave until you return, Grand Master."

"I know. I gave my support to Lysandros in good faith and Styphon's House cannot afford to estrange its closest-maybe only-ally in the Northern Kingdoms."

"Do not stay too long, or we'll have to fight our way into the Trygath through rain and mud."

Soton groaned. "We should have left over a moon and half ago. The Host would be in Ulthor nipping at Kalvan's heels today, but for the vanity of Lysandros and the excesses of Roxthar."

Knight Commander Aristocles paused to refill his tankard with more ale. "It is also true that we needed time after the Siege to rebuild our supplies of fireseed. I will drill the men until they drop to make the best of this delay. The Grand Host should be like a hungry panther by the time of your return. I will do everything in my power to keep their spirits and blood thirst high."

"I expect no less, old friend."

SEVEN

After landing his aircar at the top of the Paratime Building, Field-Agent Maldar Dard went to the antigrav shaft and floated down to the floor housing Paratime Police Headquarters. It was his second visit to the Chief's new office and he was hoping that he was in line for the plum assignment of working on Kalvan's Time-Line. Verkan, whom he'd worked with on the Wizard Trader detail, had told him that he was looking for several of his best field agents to monitor events in his absence.

Paratime Police Chief Verkan was in a tight spot; he was facing charges of dereliction of duty due to his "obsession"-the kindest way it was being reported by the media-with Kalvan's Time-Line and his outtimer friends. Newsie Yandar Yadd never finished a broadcast without demanding a Paratime Commission investigation into the Chief's alleged abuses.

When Maldar reached the Chief's office, Verkan's secretary ushered him right into the room. Inside the Chief was seated at his famous horseshoe desk and behind him was the famous display cabinet with mementos of the Chief's most notable cases. There was something new this time-a horribly damaged breastplate which appeared to be from Kalvans Time-Line. Is this the infamous breastplate that stopped a two-ounce chunk of lead from spreading Verkan's ribs? If so, how did mere lead rip durasteel armor?

There were three other young field agents and one old timer, Deputy Bureau Chief Altarn Vor, with a long nose good for poking into tight spaces and a tight-lipped mouth. It was rumored that he was Verkan's first field commander and good friend, although, it was hard to imagine the two of them as allies, as they appeared so different on the surface. The urbane Verkan Vail and the stodgy old Deputy with a face like a vole.

"All of you know each other, except for Maldar Dard, who was with me on Third Level, Zthrykx Sector when we collared what we thought then was the command cell of the Wizard Traders. If it wasn't for Maldar's excellent shooting, four of the leaders would have reached their secret conveyer chamber before we could have stopped them."

"I read that report. Good work," Vordran Larn said, wearing a yellow cloak over his green Paratime Police uniform and some kind of outtime riding boots.

"Thanks," he replied.