The Fireseed Wars

Therefore, I have decided in favor of your idea of my becoming King of Thagnor; I will keep the territory for ourselves and crown Phrames Prince of Gytha. The realm of Thagnor is ideally situated between the two Great Saltless Seas and quite defensible. It is the best home we are likely to find until we put an end to the House of Styphon once and for all and return to our Great Kingdom. With great earthworks, great walls and proximity to relief by sea, Thagnor will be almost impossible to assault and thus provides the protection of our subjects that concerns us both so greatly. It's also ideally situated for trade, and has been a major trade center. We could do far worse… Praise Dralm!

I had wanted to move farther from Styphon's rattlesnake nest, but as you put it-"if we go too far, it only shows the world how greatly we fear them." The Grand Host is almost as isolated in the Upper Middle Kingdoms as we are. They have no local allies, their army is of a size to frighten any and all of the Middle Kingdom states, their reputation is horrible and no one in their right mind would trust them. Therefore, I've come to the conclusion that making Thagnor the center of Nos-Hostigos is necessary and reasonable. This will give us an instant presence in the Middle Kingdoms and we shall quickly be able to sort out our potential enemies and allies.

With the new earthworks in place around Rathon City, I believe you leave the new kingdom of Rathon and our subjects as safe as anywhere in this new land. I welcome your return to my arms-

Kalvan's writing was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Who is it?"

"Cleon, sire. Prince Phrames has arrived."

"Good. Show him in.

"Shall I bring a cask of Ermut's Best?"

He was tempted to have a cup, but remembered his promise to Rylla. Besides, he wasn't sure he could stop after one drink. "No. Some ginseng tea will be fine."

Phrames, his long face covered with grit and lined with weariness, came into the chamber, removing his dust-stained cloak. "I must apologize, Your Majesty, for my late arrival. However, I've been busy trying to secure the city and temporarily house all the prisoners. In addition, I had some patrols I wanted to send out before I could answer your summons."

"Don't worry about it, my friend. Congratulations on your great victory! Have a seat."

Phrames shrugged his shoulders modestly. "It wasn't much of a battle, Your Majesty. It was as easy as shooting drunk turkeys with a musketoon."

Kalvan shook his head. "There are no small battles, Phrames. The conquest of Thagnor was won through a combination of surprise, overwhelming superiority and good timing. And you had a lot to do with all three. Why do you think Osthwuld surrendered Vart-Tnagnor so easily? He discovered he'd lost the battle before he even knew there was one. Our victory over the City was so complete that he was able to surrender the vart without loss of face. Do you believe the loss of thousands of men would have made our victory any larger or more complete?"

Phrames shook his head. "No, Dralm be praised, Your Majesty! I'm just not used to fighting in battles that follow our plans as closely as this one did. We needed this victory; the men are rejuvenated. I thank the gods that we took so few casualties, as did the Thagnori forces. Already, many of them have asked to join our Army. Even the populace is celebrating our victory!"

Cleon removed the Prince's cloak. Kalvan couldn't help but notice Phrames wince when Cleon bumped his shoulder where he'd taken a bullet wound at Ardros Field.

"How is your shoulder feeling?" Kalvan asked.

"Much better, Your Majesty, but it's still sore."

Kalvan didn't doubt it as Phrames had been riding horseback for almost twenty-four hours. "Let me look at it."

"Yes, sire." Phrames said as he walked over to the fireplace, while taking off his breastplate and padded gambeson. Kalvan examined his shoulder: The slug had entered and exited the muscle leaving a keloid scar the size of a quarter. It was red and inflamed, but it didn't appear as if sepsis had set in.

"Have Uncle Wolf Tharses look at this before you leave the castle."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Phrames said, as he warmed his hands before the coals.

Kalvan tried to find the best way to frame the news he was about to impart. Phrames was as loyal as the day was long, but even the most trusted paladin might be sorely troubled when a promise was revoked. Sorry, old friend, but "realpolitik" has reared its ugly head.

"I asked you here for several reasons."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"First, how did the attack go?"

"The operation went almost as planned, Your Majesty. It was very successful. The men fought admirably; we had less than a hundred casualties, many with minor wounds. We also took almost three thousand prisoners. More are being rounded up as we talk. I have a list with me of officers and soldiers who deserve promotions." Phrames removed a folded-up parchment from his trousers and presented it to Kalvan.