Down Styphon!, page 27
part #8 of Kalvan Series
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
“Hectides, are there any more Styphoni temples in our town?”
The old wolf hunter shook his head. “There weren’t enough townsfolk to warrant even one, I believe.”
“Good,” she replied. “Now, take me to the palace.”
The outside of the summer palace appeared unscathed. They walked into the presence chamber, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. She remembered walking these same passages as a child when her father was still alive. For a few moments, despondency battled the anger flowing through her veins.
It appeared that Sthentros had not stinted when it had come to repairing the damage to the palace. There were a number of rich hangings and tapestries she had never seen before.
There were marble statues of the gods, but fortunately Styphon was not among them.
The stench of death and ordure met her nostrils when they reached the presence chamber. Sthentros himself was stretched out in a most unnatural way before the throne; his back was arched as if he were trying to escape his bodily form. As she drew closer, she could see that several of his limbs were broken and his teeth were bared in a fierce rictus.
“A most terrible and painful death, Your Majesty,” Hectides offered. “I’ve used it many times on wolves, but only when I had no other choice. Not even a beast should suffer so.”
Rylla smiled. “It’s only a piece of what the traitor deserved. He will get the balance when he is called before Galzar, the Judge of Princes.”
“Praise Galzar!” Hectides cried.
She turned to one of her bodyguards. “Have this despicable piece of offal dragged out and put into the nearest lime pit. He deserves no burial.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
As King Chartiphon and Captain-General Hestophes entered the chamber, the stomp of their boots echoed throughout the empty room. They paused for a moment to watch as two of the Queen’s Bodyguards took the body of Sthentros by the feet and drug him out of the chamber.
“Your Majesty, it appears that the Traitor will no longer haunt our land,” Chartiphon noted.
“No,” she replied. “I only wish that he had died at my hand.”
“He might have found it preferable to the death he chose for himself,” Hestophes said, shaking his head. “I can think of many more pleasant ways to die than from Wolf Bane. I have bivouacked the army, Your Majesty. Where do we go next?”
“To Harphax City! We have more debts to settle. Now that the heart of the Harphaxi army is in Balph fighting to preserve Styphon’s House, there is little there to oppose us.”
“We are growing low on rations,” Hestophes said. “We don’t have nearly enough to make it all the way to Harphax City.”
“We’ll forage on the way. There are lots of fat merchants and nobles in the princedoms of Arklos and Harphax to feast upon!”
THIRTY-TWO
I
As a flurry of rain pelted his tent roof, Kalvan cursed the weather and the muddy roads that had stalled the Hostigi Army’s advance. They had been laid up for five days waiting for the weather to break. It was almost impossible to drive the oxen- and horse-drawn wagons over ankle-deep muddy roads. It was a seasonal problem, he noted. Still, it was delaying their advance on Balph.
Before they had pitched camp, two of the wagons carrying the big thirty-two pounders, had tipped over, spilling the guns onto the muddy roadway—or “path” as Kalvan would have called it back home. It had taken an A-frame and block and tackle to get the big guns back on their mounts, but by that time the mud was ankle deep. That was when he realized that they were stalled and weren’t going to get anywhere until the weather improved and the rain stopped.
He was mulling over the state of their provisions, when one of his bodyguards stuck his head through the tent flap, saying, “Your Majesty, Chief Skranga begs entrance.”
“Let him in,” he replied.
“Your Majesty,” Skranga said, accompanied by a nod which sprayed water around the tent. “One of my intelligencers has returned from Balph with fresh news.”
“Good,” he replied. It was about time.
“He says that Styphon’s Voice has demanded that all the non-essential civilians in Balph exit the city. Tens of thousands have been streaming out of the city for the past three days. Most of them are women and children who are non-essential to the war effort. Also the elderly, disabled and infirm, many of them slaves. In a few days, there won’t be anyone left in Balph who isn’t a priest or soldier.”
“It looks like they’re clearing the decks for the siege.”
“That would be my guess, sire. We know the Styphoni have enough provisions stashed away to feed the city for two or three years; although with over eighty thousand soldiers to feed, it might cut that time in half. Still, more than enough foodstuffs to keep them fed for longer than we want to stay in this godsforsaken land.”
“I’ll agree with you on that, Skranga. Any word from inside the city?”
“From what my intelligencers have been able to pick up by questioning some of the temple workers who are evacuating Balph, feelings are mixed. Many are terrified that the Daemon Kalvan might call down the wrath of the True Gods against Styphon. The kings and princes are more worried about who will get the credit for destroying our army and turning you over to the Innermost Circle. The rank-and-file soldiers are bored and tired of waiting. Styphon’s Voice ordered the whores and camp wives to vacate Balph, leaving the city filled with rioting. The order was quickly rescinded and double rations of beer were given out for the next moon-quarter.”
“That’s about what I expected. Things are about to get a lot worse. I’m just glad they’re getting rid of most the non-combatants. I have no desire to harm innocents. This way we can kill everyone remaining in the city with a clear conscience.”
“I don’t know about that, Your Majesty. As far as I’m concerned, anyone living in Balph who’s not in gaol or in a dungeon is an enemy.”
“You’re probably right, Skranga. Still, I do not want to earn the reputation of being a man who slaughters women and children—even if they are the enemy’s spawn.”
Skranga shrugged as if it were another one of his king’s peculiarities. “There was another attack by the enemies’ irregulars, mostly Sastragathi and Ruthani horsemen, this morning. They didn’t get very far. Our own Sastragathi troopers and the Mounted Rifles made quick work of them. Captain-General Halmoth reported that the enemy irregulars took over three hundred casualties—and that’s just the bodies they counted.”
“Excellent, Halmoth has done a good job with the Rifles. Another thing, he didn’t run up the casualty list.” Kalvan didn’t like inflated body counts. He’d seen enough of that in Korea. “So, the Styphoni haven’t gotten desperate enough to give rifles to the light cavalry?”
His Intelligence Chief shook his head emphatically. “No! They don’t trust them, nor should they. If any of the Sastragathi tribesmen were to get a rifle, they would run away at the first opportunity. Owning a rifle would buy any one of them a chieftainship in the Sastragath, or across the Great River. Plus, the Styphoni don’t have any rifles to spare. There are probably less than two or three hundred rifles in the entire host.”
“Well, that’s good news. If Great King Phidestros had come, it might have been a horse of a different color.”
“Yes, Praise Dralm and Galzar, that Captain-General Hestophes was so successful in his negotiations. Regardless, we are still badly outnumbered.”
Kalvan nodded. That spoke for itself. The Hostigi force had better troops, better weapons and better morale. That had to count for something. Other than pray to Galzar, there wasn’t anything more that he could do about it.
“How is the Admiral doing with the blockade of the Malthros River?”
Skranga smiled. “Very well, sire. Not a dinghy or rowboat has gotten past his ships since they were stationed there a moon-quarter ago. They’ve captured enough provisions to keep the Navy fed until year’s end. The Styphoni will get no relief from that quarter, not with their own fleets in shambles and disarray.”
“Good. I understand that much of the city’s provisions are stored in warehouses near the waterfront. Correct?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Over half of their provisions and supplies are kept there, most likely for fast shipment.”
Kalvan smiled widely. “Maybe we can do something about that.”
II
Even at his table in the Supreme Priest’s private sanctuary, Anaxthenes could hear the distant thunder as more rain fell upon the city. It almost sounded like gunfire. He knew that no matter what he did soon the thunder would be replaced by the roar of Hostigi guns. It was unfortunate that he didn’t have a bolt hole he could use if the enemy entered the city and things went bad. His future was inextricably intertwined with that of Balph; either the Great Host of Styphon defeated the Hostigi, or the Innermost Circle of Styphon’s House was doomed.
There was a knock at the door and one of his servants informed him that Grand Commander Grythos, head of the Great Host, wanted to speak with him.
“Bid him enter.”
The burly archpriest came into the room like a charging bull. Throwing out his arms, he said, “Your Divinity, the Hostigi naval ships have destroyed the docks!”
“Aha! I thought I heard gunfire,” Anaxthenes said. “They can be repaired.”
“True,” Grand Commander Grythos replied. “But the Hostigi ships have also destroyed most of the harbor warehouses, which contain over a third of our provisions and supplies.”
“Why didn’t our guns stop them?” he asked.
Grythos shrugged. “The Hostigi warships have whole banks of guns on each side. It didn’t take them long to dispatch our old bombards. For too long, the Temple has been complacent. We have let our past success blind us.”
Anaxthenes nodded. “True. And, now we are paying for it. If the Usurper’s ships have the river blockaded, the docks are worthless. Do we not have more than enough foodstuffs and ordnance in the temple storage bins to feed the army and keep them supplied?”
“Yes, unless the siege drags on for over three or four seasons,” Grythos replied.
“Then I don’t foresee a problem. If we don’t defeat the Hostigi before then, it won’t matter.”
“True, Your Divinity. The men’s morale is high and we outnumber the Hostigi almost two to one.”
“Then it is up to you to bring the battle to the Usurper and defeat him. There are great honors for you, Grythos, if you can defeat the Daemon Kalvan. Your name will go down in history as one of the great captain-generals, such as Erasthames and Simocles the Great. If not, we will all perish.”
Grand Commander Grythos all but preened.
“How are our allies faring?” he asked.
“Great King Geblon is always complaining. Ever since word has arrived that a second Hostigi army has entered Hos-Harphax he has badgered me to return home. He fears that Great Queen Rylla will take revenge upon his wife.”
“I hope you have not encouraged his request,” Anaxthenes replied. The last thing they needed was to lose one of their allies, even one as feckless as Geblon.
Grythos shook his head. “I pointed out that no one is leaving Balph without your permission, Your Divinity. Furthermore, now that the Hostigi control the river, there is no way for him to return to Harphax City by sea. Even Geblon is not fool enough to try and take his army overland. However, should he attempt such a stunt, it might help relieve the siege by drawing off some of Kalvan’s forces.”
Anaxthenes rubbed his chin. “Hmm. If Geblon attempts to leave Balph, let him go.”
Grythos smiled. “It may well be to our advantage, although I wouldn’t expect too much from the Harphaxi army.”
“Understood, but what about the Ktemnoi contingent?” Anaxthenes asked.
“Great King Lukthos put Lord Marshal Malthros in charge of the Hos-Ktemnoi army. He has fought Kalvan before and understands what defeat will mean to both him and his overlord.”
Anaxthenes smiled. “It is nice to know that not all of our allies are fools. Unless they depart, we will use Geblon and his Harphaxi army as cannon fodder. I had anticipated using Great King Niclophon and the Blethan army in that role, but Geblon has won the prize. Back them up with Styphon’s Own Guard so that they will not be able to recoil or retreat. Then, let Kalvan’s guns chew them to pieces!”
III
Kalvan had established his headquarters in what had formerly been the Cryd mayors office. The town of Cryd was a small harbor port on Mythros River and ideal for use as a collection depot for provisions and armaments coming from Hos-Bletha. Plus, from here he and Admiral Herad could coordinate further bombardments of Balph. The Admiral had already accomplished his primary goal, the destruction of the Balph wharfs and docks, as well as the harbor warehouses. While it was not a crippling blow, it served to remind the Styphoni that worse was on the way.
Captain-General Halmoth knocked the dottle out of his pipe on his boot heel, then paused to relight his pipe with a burning splinter from the fireplace. After drawing in some smoke and exhaling, he said, “Were only two days march from Balph. Is it wise to stay here for so long, Your Majesty?”
Chief Skranga nodded in agreement.
“I want to give the troops a chance to rest up. Finally, the rain has stopped and they need to dry out. Plus, I’m hoping to draw the Styphoni host out of Balph. I’ve had more than enough sieges for one campaign season.”
Halmoth snorted. “So have I. I only hope this siege will wrap up as nicely as the siege of Tarr-Ceros.”
Kalvan nodded. “That won’t happen, Halmoth. Having Grand Master Soton publicly renounce Styphon was a big win for us. Another thing to be thankful for is that Soton’s not in Balph riding herd over the Great Host of Styphon’s Deliverance. As he’s proved before, he’s the best Temple commander Styphon’s House had; I believe they’re going to miss him.”
“True,” Halmoth replied. “We have another problem: Our scouts to the south have reported that over two hands of villages and small towns there are suffering from the Great Pox. We need to warn Great King Valthros in case some of them flee over the border into Hos-Bletha.”
The Great Pox was what here-and-now they called smallpox. From what he’d learned, it was even worse than the version of the disease they’d eradicated—probably because it hadn’t been tamed. “Good point. We also need to be careful that any scouts we send into that area have pox scars.”
“Why, sire?” Skranga asked, his forehead furrowed.
“Once a person survives the pox, the body builds up—” Kalvan paused for a moment to try and frame immunity to someone who was ignorant of modern theories of disease. “The body fights diseases much like we fight Styphoni propaganda. Once we explained that the fireseed devils were not real; the people accepted that, because no devils ever appeared when they used our fireseed. Therefore, in the future they were less susceptible to future lies by Styphon’s House. The human body works in a similar manner.”
Skranga nodded. “Then the body, having already fought the pox devils and survived, is safe from future attacks.”
“Exactly, Chief,” he said, pleased to see that Skranga had grasped the concept so quickly. “Therefore, we need to find those soldiers who have survived the Great Pox and use them to guard our southern arm.”
“Very wise, Your Majesty,” Halmoth said, nodding his head. “I’ll have all my captains go through their muster lists and have them send me all the soldiers who have survived the pox. That way if the sick villagers decide to flee north, we can contain them without getting the plague.”
IV
From the corner of her eye, Great Queen Lavena noticed as Chancellor Lyphannes entered her private chamber. Baby Sirna was flailing about on her lap and yelling at the top of her lungs. Lavena had a headache so bad it felt as though her head were the battlefield of writhing fireseed demons.
She screamed at her nursemaid, “Take the baby to the nursery! I can’t take this crying anymore!”
The nursemaid grabbed little Sirna and ran from the room, her face as pale as a nearby alabaster statue of Yirtta Allmother.
“What do you want?” she demanded, turning to face Lyphannes.
“I have news,” the Chancellor said reluctantly.
“Yes, about what?”
“The Hostigi Army is now within a day’s journey of the city walls, Your Majesty.”
She sucked in a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. “Has there been any word from Great King Geblon?”
Tbe Chancellor shook his head.
Well, she thought, he's deserted me, too. It figures: men, you can't trust any of them. “How many Hostigi should we expect?”
“Fifteen to twenty thousand, Your Majesty,” he said, obviously shaken. Lyphannes was obviously aware that Rylla would have plans made for him, as well the Great Queen. Nobody nursed a grudge better than Great Queen Rylla, unless it was Lavena’s late father. Maybe it ran in the family.
“Go get Captain-General Wilkros and bring him to my chamber,” she ordered.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
She was smoking her second pipeful of tobacco when Captain-General Wilkros entered the chamber, trailed by the Chancellor. He was an old man, bent and crooked, but he had a stiff spine compared to the other captains her husband had left behind.
“How bad is it, Captain-General?”
His slender hand shook as he tugged at his long white beard. “Very bad, Your Majesty. The Great King took much of the city watch as well as the Royal Army and his own bodyguard. We have less than five thousand men guarding the walls.”
“What about the City Bands?” Lavena asked.
He actually spat on the marble tiles. “Pshaw! Styphon’s Own refuse! I’ve already had them mustered out—less than half of them showed up, maybe forty bands—four to five thousand men. I fear that Your Majesty’s recent budget cuts have left many of the militia bands with weapons and armor their fathers would have considered old and decrepit. We do have lots of fireseed, but even that’s of dubious quality.”
