The Fireseed Wars

"She's gotten used to having you around, Kalvan. You leaving will be hard for her. Me, too!"

Kalvan gave Rylla a big hug, despite the "looks" from Demia's nursemaids-protocol be damned, my family's leaving without me!

Demia started to tug at the bottom edge of the Upper Middle Kingdoms' deerskin map and one of the nursemaids rushed over, picking her up. Immediately, she started to bawl.

"Dysola, please take the baby to the nursery. The Great King and I have things to discuss."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Kalvan reached over and took Demia out of the nursemaid's arms, giving her a big hug, then bussed her on the neck. She started to giggle between sobs, making a sound like a strangled hiccup.

"You go with your nurse, little one. Daddy will be come later to tuck you in."

"Da Da."

He smiled wanly. "Bye-bye."

When she was gone, Rylla said, "She'll probably be speaking Urgothi by the time you see her again."

He nodded. "Dralm-damnit, I'm going to miss you both! I wish I could ferry all of us to Thagnor, but it's impossible."

"We'll be fine. I'll protect our people as best I can, with the Allfather's help."

Kalvan was sure Rylla would do everything possible to see they made it safely overland to Thagnor; he was also sure the Grand Host would do everything it could to make sure she didn't. That's what bothered him. He was taking the safe route, while his family, friends and subjects were in real danger. It rankled.

"We've got enough soldiers to protect our people. Besides, you've given me the better part of the army. Hestophes' Army of Observation will act as the van for my Army of the Trygath. We have no better commander than yourself, my husband."

He nodded. The plans were as good as they could be, under the circumstances; however, circumstances had a way of changing and the best-laid plans- Stop! He told himself. He was more nervous about her leaving than he'd been before battle with the Grand Host. No need to turn into a Nervous Nelly-that won't help anyone, will it?

"Besides Captain-General Hestophes, I've got General Alkides, Captain Nathros of the Sappers and Engineers, Duke Chartiphon and Prince Pheblon, who's not much help in a fight, but he's loyal. What about General Baldour?"

"He'll be going with you, darling," Kalvan said. She would need Baldour's expertise on the Trygath and Middle Kingdoms.

"What about Phrames-is he going with you?"

The tone of her voice made it sound as if the Prince had a terminal illness. To her, Phrames was just another old woman-like her husband. Well, regardless, Kalvan was going to have to stop second-guessing his wife. With Harmakros and Verkan dead, she was his best commander and he needed her generalship-faults and all. Although, even he had to admit she was making a determined effort to "do as I do." Whether that would last once she was out of the Port Ulthor city gates, well, that was yet to be determined.

"I need Phrames with me." Kalvan said, "for some breaking and entering when we reach Thagnor City."

"That's fine. Phrames works better with you, my husband," she added with a big hug.

"What about Prince Sarrask?" she asked.

"He will be with you," he said with a feeling of relief. He didn't dislike Sarrask, but his larger-than-life bonhomie was wearing, when it wasn't grating. Plus, he felt obliged to always set a good example when around him, for fear that Sarrask would take one of his words wrong, like one of Henry II's courtiers, and do serious damage-all the while thinking he was doing his Great King a favor.

"Good!" Rylla cried, rubbing her hands.

"You really like him, don't you?"

She grinned. "Sarrask-or the 'Improved Sarrask'-as you like to call him, has turned out to be a loyal vassal and a good co-commander. He's one of the few Princes that has stuck by us-well, besides Phrames, and that's not a fair comparison since you elevated him to Prince of Beshta."

"What makes you so certain Sarrask's all that loyal? Part of me thinks he's just stuck around because we give him plenty of fighting, which is his favorite pastime."

"Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"About Sarrask's brand?"

That was one of the problems with being Great King, everyone either assumed you were omniscient and knew everything, or went overboard trying to keep things from you. You certainly were no longer one of the "boys."

"What brand?"

"Oh, it's Styphon's Own story! Let me tell you. It started after our loss at Ardros Field, when Sarrask returned to Hostigos Town. Everyone was frightened white of Archpriest Roxthar's Investigation, as they should have been. Sarrask wanted to stay behind with the volunteers at Tarr-Hostigos and 'keep it safe from those manure-eating Styphoni,' as he calls them. You were still laid up with your wound, so I was the one who had to turn down his offer."

"I remember some of that, but vaguely."