The Fireseed Wars

Kalvan was growing tired and thirsty. Vanar Halgoth, the Captain of his Tymannian Guard, had been tutoring him in Urgothi for over two hours. Word had reached him that Tortha the Trader's ship had finally arrived and he was working with Vanar to pass the time until he arrived. With Styphon's Grand Host at his back and a refugee population over a half a million strong and growing daily, it was becoming obvious that he and his Hostigi subjects were soon going to be moving westward. Since Urgothi was the lingua franca of the Middle Kingdoms, Kalvan had been taking language lessons for the past moon.

In high school, he'd studied three years of German as part of his college preparation for the ministry; his father had raised him to be his successor at his small Altoona parish. He'd had a gift for languages and taken another two semesters of German at Princeton. After he dropped out of Princeton, he had joined the US Army and fought in Korea until the war ended. He had been deployed to Germany for a year after the Korean Armistice. There he became fluent in German; unfortunately, Urgothi was about as close to modern German as the Anglo-Saxon of Beowulf was to modern English.

With another moon of hard work, he'd be able to speak it reasonably well-if not like a native. Rylla was resisting his efforts to have her and baby Demia, who was now beginning to talk up a storm, learn Urgothi. He'd even hired a local Urgothi resident as a maid for Rylla to help her learn. Rylla was still convinced they were going to return to Hostigos after the Grand Host departed-fat chance!

She didn't want her baby to learn a foreign language that she would never use. Kalvan was slowly convincing her that the more languages Demia spoke the better a ruler she'd be, on the off-chance that there was no male offspring. That argument was finally taking hold, Praise Dralm.

Language lessons were thirsty work and between the two of them they had finished off a small cask of ale. While Kalvan had limited himself to two goblets, he'd lost count of Halgoth's intake. The giant Urgothi warrior was big enough to have made linebacker for the Steelers. He also had a bottomless pit for a stomach. He gave his bell pull a yank.

"Cleon?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Any further word on when Trader Tortha will be arriving?"

"No, Sire. I'll send one of the pages, Aspasthar-Oh, I forgot, he's now in charge of the cadets. I'm sure I can find another page in the kitchen."

"Please, do so."

Cleon left the Great King's audience room, which had once been Prince Kestophes' private chamber. For now it was the acting headquarters for the Great Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos-or the rump kingdom consisting of three Princedoms of Kyblos, Nyklos and Ulthor. And, maybe not for long once the Grand Host of Styphon went on the offensive.

For the life of me, why are they still stalled outside Hostigos Town?-if that's what it is still called, Kalvan asked himself. He'd heard rumors that Lysandros had renamed Hostigos Town and was now calling it Lysandros Town, after himself.

As rumors went, it had credibility on its side since Lysandros' ego was big enough to make such an act of self-aggrandizement believable; still, for Kalvan's money's worth, it was just a bit too pat. Besides, what would the new Prince of Hostigos, Baron Sthentros, have to say about it? Quite a bit, knowing Sthentros. Find a way to eliminate that traitor!'Then after a moment's reflection, he decided that the next despot Lysandros appointed Prince of Hostigos might not be so vain and arrogant; he might even prepare for their return. Nix that!

What he needed was somebody in Hostigos Town to watch over his interests. Duke Skranga, who was stirring up mischief in Hos-Bletha, would not be available for another assignment for a long time. Colonel Ranthar had asserted that the Duke was essential to their mission in Bletha in his last dispatch. Furthermore, Skranga was too well-known in Hostigos and Hos-Harphax to be an effective agent; he knew next to nothing about affairs in the Upper Middle Kingdoms. However, he could get things done like no one else. Note: Find a good agent to replace Duke Skranga.

"Cleon, please bring my guest another cask of ale and me a cup of hot chicory."

Halgoth yawned mightily, blowing out three oil lamps in the process. "Your Majesty, I'm not used to talking so much. You're getting a lot better with my tongue. I need to sleep off this ale."

"Of course, Vanar. You may retire to your chambers."

"Thank you, Sire."

"I'll still have my tea," he said as Cleon began removing the empty cask and goblets. Yes, hire.