Down Styphon!, page 14
part #8 of Kalvan Series
“I believe it will be a great boon,” Uncle Wolf Olmnestes said, “not only for the God of Judges but for the people living in the Sastragath, as well as their neighbors in Hos-Ktemnos and Hos-Bletha. While this proposition will have to be adjudicated by the High Temple in Hos-Harphax, I believe their final decision will be to accept. Do you agree, Xanthos?”
“Yes, I do. The Order has been doing Galzar’s work all along; it’s long overdue that the Order of Zarthani Knights passed into the Wargod’s charge. It will also help with recruiting more men into the Order.”
Aristocles nodded, as though that was something he had deduced himself.
“That is acceptable, then,” Kalvan stated. “It also meets with my approval.” Now all he had to worry about was a nomad army, at his invitation, arriving under Warlord Sargos. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to deal with it this campaign season. He wasn’t sure how he would deal with Sargos in the future, but he would have to make it clear that the Warlord and his men would have to stay on their side of the Great River. This deal would help keep the peace after Styphon’s House was destroyed and its temple grounds sown with bone and blood.
“Since my terms have been met,” Kalvan said, “I will give orders to halt the siege and still the guns.” He rose up, goblet in hand, saying, “To peace and good works.”
Aristocles face broke out in a smile. “To Galzar. And Death to Styphon’s House!”
“Aye, aye,” came from the assembled voices. That was a proposition everyone could agree on.
II
A few minutes later, after everyone had left, Rylla came charging into headquarters. “My husband, why have the guns stopped firing?”
Kalvan smiled. “The siege has come to an end. It’s over; we won.”
“What?” she asked, thumping her breastplate with her fist. “How can it be, there are walls left to breach. Tarr-Ceros still stands unbroken!”
“The Order has sued for peace and accepted all our terms.”
Rylla’s eyes widened. “I cannot believe this. It’s a trick, a ruse!”
Kalvan shook his head. “No, it’s not. Grand Master Soton is a man of his word, is that not true?”
Reluctantly, she nodded.
“Besides, what would the Order have to gain by a ruse? A temporary halt to the bombardment, at most. There’s no one coming to their rescue, and they know it. They also know that if it was a trick, we would be back and strike even harder.”
“Yes, that makes sense. But will Soton renounce Styphon? He’s a true believer, after all.”
Kalvan grinned. “Not any longer. The rascals in charge have finally pushed him beyond endurance. He’s not only willing to renounce Styphon, but he’s going to announce it publicly. This will really damage the enemy’s morale.”
Rylla shook her head in disbelief. “I never thought it would come to this. Still, Grand Master Soton must pay for the depredations he and the Grand Host of Styphon’s House committed during the siege of Tarr-Hostigos and in Hostigos Town.”
Kalvan sighed; he had known it wasn’t going to be easy to get Rylla to accept the new status quo. “From everything our agents have been able to uncover, it was Great King Lysandros who demanded that Tarr-Hostigos be captured, not Grand Master Soton or even Captain-General Phidestros. If Captain-General Phidestros and Soton had had their way, they would have followed us to the Great Seas, which might have ended badly. After all, we weren’t a retreating army, but a folk migration. They had no interest in besieging Tarr-Hostigos; the siege was to fulfill Lysandros’ revenge. And, as we both know, Lysandros has already paid the ultimate price for that and his many other sins.”
Rylla blew out a deep breath of air.
He knew it was hard to let go of revenge, especially when the perpetrator was dead and far beyond earthly reach. The inclination was to strike out at anyone else who played a part. He needed to refocus Rylla’s anger.
“The real perpetrators are still alive and living in luxury in Balph,” he stated. “Soton, Phidestros—even Lysandros—were all nothing but the Inner Circle’s tools. Is that not true?”
“Yes, the temple-rats are the ones who set the war in motion.”
“Exactly, and they should be—no, they will be—the ones who will pay the price. And the end of this siege only brings that day closer.”
That Rylla understood; finally she smiled.
III
It had only taken Duke Kyblannos a few days to sail from Zygros to Harphax City, but he was still cooling his heels after almost a moon, and he still didn’t have an appointment to see Great King Geblon. He had a strong suspicion that it was Queen Lavena who was behind the delay. Every time he visited the palace, he got the run around from the Royal Chancellor; the man treated him as if he carried the plague. He wondered if Geblon even knew he was in town. When he talked to the chief Zygrosi intelligencer in Harphax, all the man could tell him was that the Queen Lavena had put out a blanket order that the Great King was not to be disturbed.
Fortunately, he had nice quarters at the Raven Inn where they had a wonderful tavern with everything drinkable on hand that one could want but Ermut’s Best. Another reason, he decided, to favor an alliance with Great King Kalvan.
He knew the Cap’n hated delays and was certain his backside was as hot as a kitchen stove; nor was he sure how long Kalvan’s envoys would wait patiently in Zygros City for his return. He was preparing to leave when a courtier, dressed in fancy red-and-yellow velvet apparel and wearing a neck ruff the size of a dinner plate, finally called upon him at the inn.
“His Majesty will see you now, Your Grace,” he said with a sniff, as though he couldn’t imagine why.
Kyblannos was tempted to rearrange the courtier’s face, but decided against it. This fancy pants was probably some favorite of Geblon’s wife and there would be Hadron to pay if anything happened to him. Now he was certain who wore the breeches in the family; in the old days Geblon would have never put up with such nonsense.
Great King Geblon saw him in a private presence room that was as luxuriously appointed as that of one of Styphon’s House’s archpriests. He didn’t even greet him with a comradely pat on the shoulders, or the offer of a drink.
This is taking bad manners too far, Kyblannos thought to himself. Probably expects me to address him as Your Majesty, too! Not in this lifetime....
“May I ask what brought upon this visit to our kingdom?” Geblon asked, as if he didn’t know him personally or as if his old comrade was some unfamiliar dignitary.
“I’ve come on the Cap’n’s behalf.”
“I assume you are referring to Great King Phidestros, my liegeman.”
“Liegeman, my ass! The Cap’n put you on the Iron Throne, and he can throw you the Styphon off, if he wants. Now, you can start talkin’ to me like an old comrade before I put my foot up your bung-hole!”
Geblon reared back as if he had been slapped. “I can call my bodyguards and have you clapped in irons with the snap of my fingers!”
“Do that and the Cap’n’ll have your head. I came down here to see you on official business, not to be treated like some churl or Styphon’s House temple-farm slave.”
Geblon tugged at what was left of his short beard, cut into a V in the latest style. “You’re right, we have started off on the wrong boot.” He grabbed his bell pull and yanked.
Moments later a finely-dressed servant in the Harphaxi yellow-and-red colors appeared. “Your Majesty, what is your pleasure?”
“Some of our best winter wine for me and my friend.”
“Yes, Sire.”
While they waited, Kyblannos took out his pipe and fixings and filled the barrel with fresh tobacco, which he had noted wasn’t scarce in Harphax City at all. By the time he had lit up, libations had arrived in golden goblets, Kyblannos took it upon himself to restart the conversation. “Good drink, I must say.”
“We have it brought down from the mountains from a special vinery run by an order of priestesses of Yirtta. They seem to have a magic touch when it comes to fermenting. It’s most expensive.”
Kyblannos gulped down half a cupful and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Geblon flinched but kept his mouth shut, proving that the old Geblon hadn’t completely curled up and died.
“The Cap’n sent me down here to talk with you about something that’s about to happen in your own backyard,” Kyblannos said.
“You don’t say. You wouldn’t be referring to the invasion by the Usurper Kalvan, would you?”
Kyblannos shook his head. “I wouldn’t be calling it an invasion. The man simply wants revenge on those that hurt him—and get his home back, too.”
“Well, he’s not going to get it. He took my territory in the first place, and I’m not about to give it up.”
Kyblannos laughed. “What are you talkin’ about? Your territory, my arse! You were a banner captain in the Iron Company when Lord Kalvan arrived and wrested Hos-Hostigos from Kaiphranos the Timid.”
“It makes no matter. The territory, falsely and formerly known as Hos-Hostigos, is under my rule now and I’m not about to give it up without a fight. I might add, a fight in which I expect the full support of Prince Phidestros of Greater Beshta.”
“You can’t tell the Cap’n what to do, great king or not. He can make or break you anytime he wishes. He sent me down to see you as a favor to an old comrade and former subordinate. Kalvan has made him a good offer and he wanted me to run it by you before he came to a decision.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Kalvan has asked the Cap’n to join him in the sack of Balph, and offered him half of Styphon’s House’s treasure if he does.”
“If he joins the Hostigi army, he’ll have to go through me first.”
“Are you mad, Geblon? The Cap’n can bring thirty thousand men down on your head, and that’s not countin’ the ten or twelve thousand more he could raise in Greater Beshta. How long do you think the ten or twelve thousand poorly-trained troops you have garrisoned around Harphax City will fare against those odds? The Cap’n will eat your britches for first meal!”
For the first time, Geblon paled as he took this news in and digested it. “I couldn’t help Phidestros if I wanted to. I’ve already contracted with Styphon’s House to use my troops to protect Balph from the Usurper Kalvan.”
Kyblannos shook his head in disbelief. “You’ve become a Styphoni?”
Geblon shook his head. “No, but they’re paying me a lot of gold to help them.”
“Well, so is Kalvan. He’s willing to pay you a hundred thousand ounces a princedom for the return of Old Hos-Hostigos, and it won’t cost you a single soldier. You’d better think this proposition over carefully, Geblon. The offer Kalvan made to the Cap’n is the kind that cleaves father from son and yanks brothers from their mother’s teats.”
“Are you telling me that Phidestros would side with Kalvan against me?
Kyblannos shrugged. “Maybe not the old you. But, yeah, he might. Or he might just stay out of the fray and pick up the pieces.”
At this, Geblon turned as white as the robes of a Styphon’s House novitiate.
“Think about it,” Kyblannos threw over his shoulder, as he finished his drink, then turned to leave the audience chamber.
SEVENTEEN
I
"Whaaat?” Hestophes sputtered, as someone poked him in the side.
He opened his eyes to find a candle over his face. A big drop of hot wax dripped off the candle and burned his cheek. “Ouch! Dralm-damnit, what in Ormaz’s name—”
“Sorry, it’s me, Tharses,” the Uncle Wolf said, as he pulled back the candle. “We just received wonderful news from Great King Kalvan. Praise Galzar!”
That popped open his eyes. “Has Tarr-Ceros fallen?”
Uncle Wolf Tharses smiled. “Much better than even that. Grand Master Soton has surrendered the fortress to Kalvan and renounced Styphon’s House!”
Hestophes rose up off his comfortable bed, pushing the heavy bearskin bedspread out of his way. He yawned, then started to shiver in the freezing air. He paused to wrap the bearskin around him, before saying, “That’s great news! And unexpected...Soton renouncing Styphon is like hearing Rylla denounce Hos-Hostigos.”
Tharses laughed uproariously. “I know; I was taken by surprise myself. What’s even better, is that Grand Master Soton has rededicated the Order of Zarthani Knights to Galzar!”
“Praise Galzar and Allfather Dralm, how did you find out?” Hestophes asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
The message just arrived by pigeon. The handler woke Aldos, who decoded it and brought it over personally. We may have to change our plans.”
“Delay our departure?”
“Yes, Great King Kalvan wants you to brief Phidestros and stay here until he’s made a decision about the invasion of Hos-Ktemnos.”
“Curse and blast it! I was looking forward to leaving this wretched town before the weather turns nasty and it really gets cold.”
“I don’t blame you,” the Uncle Wolf replied. “But Great King Phidestros’ support—or neutrality—is crucial to the invasion. The difference between facing thirty thousand enemy soldiers or sixty thousand!”
“Well, when you put it that way, we don’t have a choice. Does Kalvan think that Soton’s surrender will help bring an end to Phidestros’ fence-sitting?”
“He didn’t say. However, as we surmised, when we learned that Captain-General Kyblannos boarded a boat bound for Harphax City shortly after our arrival, it’s likely that Phidestros is still waiting to hear from his trusted subordinate. We don’t have anyone close enough to Geblon’s Court to tell us whether or not they’ve met. However, Klestreus’ spies tell us that Archpriest Phyllos has been seen entering and leaving the new palace numerous times which—I don’t have to tell you—is not a good sign.”
“That turkey-pecked whoreson! Do you think Geblon could queer the deal with Phidestros?”
“By Galzar’s Grace, it’s possible, depending on how much he values his old comrade. If Great King Phidestros weighs in on the side of Styphon’s House, the war could go against Hostigos very quickly. That’s why your mission is so important.”
“Is there anything else that I should tell Phidestros?” Hestophes asked.
“Yes, that Great King Kalvan says to inform him that he will be wintering in Hos-Bletha with his good friend and ally Great King Valthros.”
“Ouch. That will get Phidestros’ attention. I thought our alliance with Valthros was a secret.”
Uncle Wolf Tharses nodded. “It was. But, now that Kalvan’s going to be staying the winter in Hos-Bletha, it will soon be common knowledge. It might help sway Phidestros to learn that our Great King has an unexpected ally in his war against Styphon’s House.”
II
Geblon paced anxiously back and forth from the door to the bed of their bedchamber. He was caught in a bind and he didn’t know how to extricate himself
“What’s bothering you, now?” Queen Lavena asked.
“I just had a talk with Duke Kyblannos—”
“Why was I not told of his visit!” she screeched. “He’s always been a bad influence on you. Him and that mercenary, Phidestros.”
“Did you have anything to do with why I was not informed of his arrival?” he asked, timidly.
“Of course, he’s a bad influence on you. And that Phidestros is no better!”
“Darling, don’t forget I worked with those men for many winters. Besides, Phidestros is no longer a mercenary, but a Great King now.”
She threw up her hands. “How could I forget? You’re always going on and on about the Iron Bandits, or whatever they were called.”
He shook his head and winced; it felt as though someone were beating on it as if it were a drumhead. “I needed to talk to Duke Kyblannos before he finally departed for Zygros City. Otherwise, we wouldn’t know what those two were up to.”
“I doubt it’s any good,” she said, her face scrunching up in hatred. “Those two troublemakers could foul-up everything.”
“You’re right, my love. They’ve been approached by Duke Hestoph—”
“That base-born churl!” she cried. “I knew it. Hestophes is still in love with me and determined to hurt me in any way he can.”
“I don’t know about that, but he is representing the Usurper.” He knew better than to say Kalvan or Rylla’s name out loud in her presence.
Lavena’s face screwed up into a hateful mask. “I knew it. Just when things were going so well. Those people have to come along to muck things up!"
“You’re right about that. They want Phidestros and his army to meet them in Balph—”
“Ha! As if we’d let them cross our border.”
“We might not have a choice. Phidestros has got over thirty thousand troops, twice what we can raise and better armed and trained. I told you we should have spent some of the money on rifling benches....”
“And waste it!” Lavena cried.
“Our musketeers won’t stand a chance against Hostigi or Zygrosi riflemen. I know from experience.”
“Then we’ll just have to buy some,” she declared.
Geblon threw up his hands. “Where? You can’t buy rifles for love or gold crowns. However, there is a way out. The Usurper has offered up a hundred thousand ounces of gold for each of the princedoms in Old Hos-Hostigos.”
“Ha! A pittance compared to what Styphon’s House is paying us to defend Balph. And they’ve promised us much more!”
Geblon sighed. “What good are promises, if you’re dead?”
“Now!” she cried. “Who’s the defeatist. I wish you were strong like my first husband. He went out and defeated Kalvan, and then destroyed Tarr-Hostigos.”
“Yes, and Lysandros was a regicide and murderer. If it hadn’t been for his blockheaded desire to capture that old castle, the Grand Host would have caught up to Kalvan and dispatched him once and for all.”
“Don’t you ever say a bad word about my first husband!” she screamed, her hands lashing out like claws. “There was a man who had stones. When something needed to be done, Lysandros did it—no matter how messy. I wish you were half the man he was.”
