Gunpowder God (15 page)

He forced his mind to dampen the anxieties that scratched at his mind like claws. To add to his discomfort, the King felt he was sitting in a vise rather than on the Throne of Lights. “
Something has to be done with this Dralm-damned throne to make it wider!”

Demistophon hadn’t realized that he’d shouted his thoughts until Chancellor Tramoth jumped in the air, his arms and robe flapping like an ungainly bird.

“What do you want now?”

“Your Majesty,” whispered his Chancellor. “Davros, Highpriest of the High Temple of Hos-Agrys, pleads for an audience.”

“Davros! What does that temple rat want now? Oh, never mind, I know. He wants to beg for more bread for the street rabble. Send him in.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” The Chancellor scampered from the audience chamber with what remaining dignity he had left.

Primate Xentos, now that’s the priest I would like to see. If I could get my hands on his neck, I’d squeeze it until his eyes popped out of his head!
It was Primate Xentos and the Temple of Dralm’s fault that Styphon’s House was besieging his city. The Primate had fled the City before the Styphoni had completely blockaded the port. Now the troublemaker was free to stir up further mischief, while Demistophon’s life would soon be in the hands of that madman Roxthar. If Xentos had not brought his troubles with him from Hos-Hostigos, the Styphoni would not be bedeviling him. Curse all the temples and their gods along with them!

The audience chamber was empty except for the Great King and his guards. He could hear the echo of Davros’ footsteps when he entered the chamber. As he neared the Throne of Lights, the Highpriest fell to his knees and began to kiss the floor.

“Up, Highpriest. What could possibly be so important that you disturb my meditation?”

“I apologize, Your Majesty. The guns of Styphon’s House are smashing down the City Walls—”

“You think I haven’t noticed?”

“Yes…yes, I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I want to know what provisions you’ve made so that the upperpriests of Dralm can evacuate the City? Our lives are in danger! We will all be Investigated by Roxthar!”

Demistophon began to laugh so hard that tears filled his eyes. “You…you…” he sputtered. “There is no escape! For any of us. You should have fled with your Primate! Now the Styphoni warships have taken control of the harbor. Their Host surrounds the City Walls. We are all doomed, myself included.”

Davros, still on his knees, began to back away from the Throne. “But, but…there must be some way—”

“You could sneak out of the City in a small boat, hiding in the morning fog like a thief. Perhaps you might even evade the Styphoni patrols. Your Primate must have or otherwise Styphon’s House would have paraded his head at the front gates. However, you will not have Our permission. My subjects’ morale would be sorely taxed if all of Dralm’s highpriests fled the City before the Host of Styphon’s Deliverance. Priest, it’s up to you and your cohorts to show the citizens a brave face.”

Davros’ face turned as white as the first snow.

“No, you and the rest of your flock will not escape death, not even by some miraculous accident. You will share Our fate.”

Demistophon would have liked nothing more than to toss the troublesome highpriest into his dungeon, but his subjects would be rioting in the streets if he did. The real problem was that it was a religious war and he was on the
wrong side
.

“Escort this
man
of Dralm to the streets,” he ordered.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the Captain of the Guard said, as he grabbed Davros by the hair and lifted him to his feet. The look of fear on Davros’ face was almost worth the discomfort his presence had called forth.

K
alvan took another sip of Sassafras tea while he pulled his thoughts together. The small window-slit in the stone wall let a rectangle of pale light into his study on the third floor of Prince Varrack’s former palace. The days were growing longer and it was already growing chilly. The Grand Host had lifted their siege early enough that the farmers had had time to plant their fall crops: barley, spinach, and cabbage along with the other seasonal crops. The corn was already thigh-high and healthy. Early indications, weather permitting, were for a bumper harvest.

The buffalo expedition had left early this year. If they had half the success of last year’s hunt, there’d be enough salted meat to get them through the winter with food to spare. It didn’t hurt that they were practically sitting on the best salt deposits in Michigan. Well, good; that was one less damn thing for him to worry about.

The political situation was still in flux due to the large number of Hostigi immigrants they were still trying to find homes and work for. There was some resentment among Thagnori as the newcomers took jobs and positions they believed were their birthright. Kalvan had had a lot of trouble with the local guilds, but they had given in when he threatened to bring them under Royal patronage. The Royal Riflemakers Guild, Royal Guild of Papermakers, Royal Fireseed Guild, Royal Gunsmiths Guild and the Royal Artillery Guild were still under his control.

Another big problem was all the Nythrosi, Baltori and Ragyathi DPs, or displaced persons. Some of them, like the Nythrosi, couldn’t go home since the Grand Host had left behind a large garrison in the Nythros City States. Most of the Morthroni refugees had returned to Morthron after the Siege of Thagnor City ended. Still, many of the DPs and refugees preferred the stability of Thagnor to the upheavals in their own homelands. Kalvan was going to have to do something about them, and quick; otherwise, they’d run out of food this coming winter.

On the plus side, his new Thagnori subjects had taken to his reforms like fish to water. With the promise of new prosperity—“a pigeon in every pot!”—they didn’t appear even to mind the influx of Hostigi who now significantly outnumbered the Princedom’s original inhabitants.

Well, some of the Thagnori nobles had complained. The first couple who made a lot of noise had had their lands confiscated and titles revoked, which had shut the rest right up. He had plenty of Hostigi nobles willing to move into abandoned or condemned demesnes.

Too many, in fact. He had a plethora of former Hos-Hostigos nobles without fiefdoms. Most of the former Hos-Hostigi Princes had their demesnes. Prince Sarrask, formerly of Sask, was settling his affairs in the Princedom of Ragyath. He was still rooting out the last of the Grefftscharrer garrison Theovacar had left behind, but most of the princedom was settling down. Soon the remaining Ragyathi refugees would be sent home whether they liked it or not.

Kalvan might even have to march into Baltor and put in his own ruler; the Council of Seven, a nasty group of would-be-tyrants, had tried to set up shop in Thagnor City until he’d had them thrown into the Tarr-Thagnor dungeon.

Prince Phrames, formerly of Beshta, was now Prince of Gytha. Prince Kestophes had been put to death as a traitor. Prince Armanes of Nyklos had died from wounds taken at the Battle of Ardros Field and now his son, Prince Carvros, had allied himself with Great King Lysandros. Cavros was no longer his problem, for now. Prince Tythanes had taken a bullet in the shoulder, during the Siege of Thagnor, and had appeared to be recovering until he got ill over the winter, probably pneumonia, and died.

With Tythanes dead, Prince Pheblon, formerly of Nostor, was the only Prince without a princedom. Baltor was unoccupied and pretty much uninhabited, after the Grand Host used it as a staging area for the Siege of Thagnor; furthermore, its population was too sparse to make it a princedom. Pheblon was touchy now that he was the only landless prince and might not take well to being demoted to Duke.

He yanked on his bell pull for Cleon.

“More tea, Your Majesty?”

“No, Cleon. Please tell Count Vinaldos I would like to see him.”

“Yes, Sire.”

Kalvan had time to finish reading King Chartiphon’s latest dispatch, warning of troop movements along the Dorg/Lyros border, before meeting the Count. Lyros Town was the here-and-now equivalent of Peoria in otherwhen. King Chartiphon had consolidated his Rathoni holdings during the Siege of Thagnor, adding several former Hos-Rathoni princedoms, Mybranos, Lahrag and Distros, to the new Kingdom of Rathon. Chartiphon, who had agents and spies working throughout the Middle Kingdoms, was wondering if King Hyrum was using Grefftscharrer withdrawal from the area to advance his own claims upon Lyros Town.

Good question
, Kalvan thought. He was very pleased to see Chartiphon taking such an interest in his neighbors.
Proof that the old adage ‘You can’t teach an old dog new tricks’ was wrong
.

Count Vinaldos was a tall man with a small Vandyke beard, who dressed in a wine-red doublet with matching cape. He was quite handsome and the best-dressed man in Thagnor; he easily could have been a courtier from one of Rembrandt’s paintings.

The Count bowed, saying, “How can I serve you today, Your Majesty?”

“Have a seat, Your Grace.”

He sat down and drew out his pipe and tobacco pouch.

“First of all, I just received a packet from King Chartiphon. His scouts in the Trygath have noticed some unusual Dorgian troop movements along their border with Lyros. I’m wondering if King Hyrum’s preparing for a quick strike into Lyros, now that Theovacar’s had to back out of Greffa and can no longer claim Lyros as part of his sphere of influence.”

Vinaldos leaned back while he drew in a lungful of tobacco smoke. “Historically, sire, Grefftscharr has had a better claim on the Princedom of Lyros since it was once a part of the Kingdom of Grefftscharr during the height of the Iron Age. However, Dorg has never recognized the Grefftscharri claims to that territory and there have been several small border wars in that area between Dorg and Grefftscharr. But, you must understand, these happened centuries ago. Both kingdoms quickly realized it was to their advantage to band together against the barbarians and Ruthani invasions.

“From what my spies in Greffa have told me, Theovacar has been building up fortifications along the Lyros/Greffa border for some time, probably in preparation for an invasion. However, now—since Your Majesty’s arrival—those plans are in abeyance. In fact, I would not be surprised if Theovacar made a determined effort to court King Hyrum in an attempt to find allies.”

Kalvan nodded. “Then we need to know more about Hyrum and his plans. What can you tell me?”

Vinaldos tugged at his beard. “King Hyrum has long kept a low profile. He has never married and thus no heirs.” The Count made a sour face. “I don’t always believe these kinds of rumors, however there are too many of these tales to ignore. As you yourself say, ‘where there is smoke, there is fire.’ It’s said that King Hyrum has his agents-inquisitory kidnap young ladies, preferably of noble blood or astonishing beauty, and then takes them deep into the catacombs beneath his palace.”

Kalvan frowned. “What in Regwarn for?”

Vinaldos shrugged. “Who but gods know the whys and ways of men? Then, sometimes it’s hard to tell the truth from a good story. It is said that King Hyrum has the young ladies strangled and then stuffs their bodies. He preserves them, or attempts to. There are other rumors that he consorts with them as if they were his mistresses. I have even heard that he talks to them as if they are still alive!” Vinaldos shook himself as if he’d just come in out of the rain. “I find those stories hard to believe, but….”

Kalvan shuddered.
The man’s a monster and needs to be stopped.
He remembered reading about a King of Naples who did much the same thing, only with enemies, in Sabatini’s biography of Caesar Borgia. Still, the idea of murdering and stuffing young women made his skin crawl. “How has he gotten away with this abomination for so long without an uprising from his subjects?”

Vinaldos shrugged his shoulders. “Hyrum keeps the peace and he keeps taxes and duties low for Dorgians, but not for foreigners! He is careful to see that these young girls come from foreign lands. His nobles prefer to believe that these rumors are false rather than risk overthrowing a good king and taking their chances with a new one—and maybe ending up with a ruthless ruler like King Theovacar.”

Kalvan had to remind himself that the customs and mores here-and-now were far different from otherwhen. Well, maybe, not so different. He remembered reading Gibbon about Caligula and Nero. Then there was the Marquis De Sade who practiced his perversions only a few centuries before his own era. There were many other examples of European noblemen abusing their subjects in perverse manners up to and through the Twentieth Century. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Vinaldos, I must admit that hearing about Hyrum’s vices makes me want to take an army into Dorg, hang him from the nearest tree and liberate his subjects.”

“I understand, Your Majesty. However, the Dorgians have tolerated his perversions for some thirty winters and would not welcome your intrusion into their Kingdom.” He splayed his hands. “I don’t understand it.”

“I do,” Kalvan said paraphrasing an otherwhen aphorism. “Better the demon you know than the demon you don’t know.”

The Count nodded. “I suggest we start making plans to put an army together to send into Lyros. Should I write up a dispatch telling King Chartiphon and King Verkan to do likewise?”

“Yes. I’ll send them out as soon as they’re ready. Any word on the negotiations with Prince Varnulf of Ragnar?” Kalvan asked. “If we’re going to attack Lyros at some point, we need to count Varnulf as an ally, or take him out if he’s an enemy.”

“Varnulf knows he’s in a bad position,” the Count replied. “He’s got Greffa on the west, Morthron and Thagnor to the north and Rathon to the east.”

“In other words,” Kalvan finished, “he’s surrounded on three sides by Nos-Hostigos.”

“Exactly,” the Count said. “He’s rejected my overtures that he swear fealty to Nos-Hostigos; he claims he’s neutral. Varnulf’s pretty crafty, as he managed to play King Theovacar and Prince Varrack off against each other without firming ties to either ruler—which was no small feat.”

Kalvan nodded. “Will he allow us to travel over his lands if need be?”