The Fireseed Wars

"What do your spies have to say about Rathon's defenses?" Since entering the Trygath, the Army had turned the area into a wasteland, burning those crops they could not harvest and blowing up farmhouses and towns with fireseed grenades, as Kalvan called them. As they'd moved through the Kingdom of Cyros, they had pushed Nestros' subjects before them, tens of thousands of refugees all fleeing for the safety of Rathon City's walls, leaving a smoldering deadland behind. It hadn't been difficult for Klestreus to plant several score of intelligencers amongst their midst.

Rylla could just imagine the fear and anxiety of the City's inhabitants, magnified by the stories of death and destruction told by the refugees and Klestreus' agents. She might have even felt sympathetic had they themselves not had the Grand Host of Styphon snapping at their heels, making its way through Nyklos at this very moment. Whatever had stopped the Host's advance was behind them now. Her only satisfaction was in knowing that the Styphoni were traveling through a Nyklosi wasteland where there was neither relief nor succor.

Once he'd caught his breath, the barrel-sized General began to provide her with an answer. "Our spies tell us that King Nestros has over twenty-five thousand troops within the City walls, mostly infantry. He left most of the Rathoni cavalry to harass our supply lines and attack our foragers, which as you know hasn't been successful."

Rylla nodded. Using decoys, Captain-General Hestophes, who was commanding the Army of Observation, had managed to capture one of three main cavalry divisions in an envelopment, killing hundreds and capturing ten times that number. This had caused the other commanders to back off from directly attacking the Hostigi. Since then, the Army of the Trygath had moved through the Kingdom of Rathon virtually unopposed.

"Inside the City, morale is bad. Many of the infantry remember fighting with the Hostigi against the Zarthani Knights, and were very favorably impressed with both our army and the quality of our commanders. They also have fond memories of King Kalvan. The city folk blame this invasion on Nestros' ambition and his alliance with the Styphoni and Hos-Ktemnos. We have fanned these embers with stories of the Investigation and the excesses of the Northern Kingdom highpriests of Styphon.

"The rabble inside the City are terrified. They view all the guns aimed at their Great Gates as Galzar's revenge for their King's treachery. They hate the arrogant highpriests their King has invited into their City and it will not take much of a breeze to turn their hot embers of anger into open rebellion!"

"Good," Rylla replied. "We don't have a lot of time to waste. How were my envoys received, Klestreus?"

"My spies have made sure that all inside know of your terms. They all fear your promise to tear the Great Gates from their walls. The Rathoni have never faced more than two or three cannon at one time."

"Good. They know that only surrendering the City will save them."

"Yes, Your Majesty. Word of your exploits in Phaxos have traveled far, even to the ends of the Trygath. No one in the City doubts your word."

Rylla prayed to herself: Allfather Dralm, I beseech you, let the Rathoni see reason and surrender the City. She did not want to be responsible for the massacre that would follow once the Gates were destroyed. Until Demia was born, she'd viewed war as a sport, a terrible sport but one she greatly enjoyed. Now, she saw every soldier as a mother's son, and it had robbed her of that joy. Rathon City, which had housed eighty thousand when her husband had visited, had swelled to three times that number, filled to the bursting with refugees fleeing from Hostigi swords. The killing here would set up cries that would be heard in the Sky-Palaces of the Gods!

Furthermore, she had plans for this great City. Kalvan had asked her to besiege and take Rathon City. With a new king and a good stiffening of Hostigi soldiers, the City could make a roadblock that the Styphoni could neither afford to take, nor leave behind. She meant to do her best to see that his wishes were carried out.

Chartiphon, his back ramrod straight, rode up beside her. "Your Majesty, the gunners are preparing the linstocks."

Rylla turned and saw the gunners, each standing next to a gun or bombard, holding their linstocks with a slow match in the fork. "You have my permission to fire."

"Light your matches!" Alkides cried.

She heard the drums begin to beat. The tension in the air was almost palpable. When all the matches had been lit, the fireseed smoke from the linstocks tickled her nose.

"Fire!" Alkides cried, mimicking her husband's orders.

The gunners applied the linstocks to the touch holes.

The resulting boom shook the earth, as if the God Endrath had shrugged his shoulders.