Gunpowder God (38 page)

“Then do as you would with any other disobedient vassal. You have my blessing.”

“Will you put that on a parchment in runes?” Soton asked.

Anaxthenes paused for a moment to consider possible outcomes of such a missive, then decided that the Inner Circle would back him. Just having Roxthar here in Balph was enough to unnerve most of them. If Soton were to slit Roxthar’s throat, few here would mourn his passing while many would fill the streets of Balph in mad celebration.

“Yes, I will have my scribe write it up after I finish my examination of the Temple’s finances. If you wish, you can join me for a late dinner at my home.”

“Of course, Your Divinity, it will be my pleasure.”

A crash of thunder roared through the room and the chamber was briefly illuminated by a flash of lightning through the window slits.

“It may be some time before the weather permits your return to Agrys City.”

“Yes, I’ve had enough of sea travel. I’ve been thinking about spending the winter here,” Soton said. “There’s nothing for me to do in Agrys City that my subordinates cannot do just as well. It will also give me time to go over the new recruits and catch up on some of the Order’s administrative work.”

“And keep an eye on Archpriest Roxthar.”

“No, Your Divinity, that is your job. I’ll have my fill of the Butcher during the coming campaign season.”

B
aroness Lysia, posing as Lady Tymolara, kept her eyes cast downward as she made her way through the Agrysi palace corridors. Since the sack of Agrys City no woman, or girl for that matter, was safe from molestation by their Ktemnoi and Styphoni conquerors. The surviving Agrysi men, those who hadn’t died defending their city or were killed while it was pillaged, were either skilled journeymen, trained workers, or slaves. She doubted that one in three of the middle-aged and younger men who had populated the city before the siege were still free or alive to ply their trades.

This left the invaders free to act as if they could have their way with any Agrysi woman or girl who caught their eye. As the governess of Prince Dementros, she had nominal protection against being taken against her will. But if some Styphon’s House highpriest or Ktemnoi captain demanded her favors, there was no one to protect her from their advances. So far, she’d been fortunate. Downplaying her looks, cutting her hair as short as a boy and adding extra padding to make her appear overweight, had helped. As had her habit of not meeting any man’s glance directly.

She knew her husband, Captain-General Hestophes, would storm Agrys City by himself if he knew the risks she was taking in her role as governess of the young king-to-be. Aspasthar was a high-spirited lad and had never taken well to discipline, more so after his mother had died some years ago and he’d been left in the care of his father, Harmakros. Nor had it helped that not long after they were reunited, Captain-General Harmakros had died heroically in the Siege of Tarr-Hostigos and Aspasthar had been made a ward of the Great King and Queen’s.

It had been Great Queen Rylla’s idea to use Aspasthar as a substitute for the former Agrysi Great King’s last living relative, Prince Dementros. The boy was play-acting better than anyone had a right to expect, but probably not good enough if he intended to live a long life, or to claim the Throne of Lights. This was Aspasthar’s third admonition since the end of the siege and he was already on Prince-Regent Grythos’ blacklist. What the boy didn’t seem to understand was that his future would be determined by the Prince-Regent and Styphon’s house, not himself. If they thought he was too obstinate or rebellious, the Temple would find—or create—another claimant whom they could more easily mold. The problem was convincing Aspasthar of that.

She found the boy alone in his chambers, his playmates banished and the back of his doublet torn and ripped.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“Lady, my Master had me whipped for troublemaking! All I did was correct him when he told me that the earth was flat.”

Lysia could see from the tears building in his eyes that the boy had been hurt by the whipping. Another child would have had marks on his back, but they had purposely left the boy’s doublet on so that he wouldn’t show any scars. Still, she knew that mere physical pain was not the source of Aspasthar’s discomfort; it was being told that what he knew to be the truth was wrong, then being punished for not agreeing. That’s what hurt the most.

When communicating things best not said out loud, they both spoke in Urgothi, a language the young prince had picked up as a cadet at the Hostigi Military Academy, when Kalvan had opened the doors to the Urgothi orphans from the border wars. She was not nearly as fluent in that language, but whenever they were alone he taught her new words and she practiced the Urgothi tongue at night alone in her bedchambers.

“Shush. Speak lower, the Styphoni may have a listener outside these walls.”

He shrugged. “Does he know our tongue?”

“No,” she replied, “but if we use it enough, they will grow suspicious and find someone who does understand it. Most of the Knights have fought along the Great River and many understand the Urgothi tongue.”

“No proper Knight would stoop to eavesdropping,” he snapped back.

She shook her head; the boy was a handful, headstrong and too smart for his own good. Nor did she like the idea that he was beginning to admire the Order of Zarthani Knights and their code of conduct. She needed to nip that in the bud.

“The Knights are not independent, ‘Dementros.’” She made it a point to always use his assumed name, even if they were alone and talking in Urgothi. “They are one of the two martial arms of the Temple of Styphon’s House. Any Knight will obey an order from an upperpriest like they would from their own superior. Which means, if Archpriest Grythos thought you were speaking in a secret tongue, they would aid him in any way to uncover it—regardless of any
code.”

The boy appeared chastised, but she wasn’t sure; he was becoming an excellent actor. He said, “Still, it was unfair, Lady Tymolara. My tutor claims the world is flat, like a tabletop. The Great King himself told us the world was round, like an apple.”

Lysia wanted to thump her forehead with the heel of her hand in frustration. “Yes, this is true. But no one here believes it. So you need to learn this: everything here is unfair. Unfair to you, unfair to me and unfair to your future subjects. Styphon’s House rules this land with a steel gauntlet. You must learn to curb your tongue and not to correct your masters.”

“I will try, my Lady,” he said, appearing visibly chastised.

“You will do better than that, young man.” A man he would soon be, as his voice was already breaking. If not, Styphon’s House would break him, and only the gods knew what her fate might be.

Great King Kalvan rubbed his hands together to keep them warm. Even with a blazing fire in the great hearth and two of Kalvan’s Austrian stoves, the War Room—a long chamber on the third floor of the keep of Tarr-Thagnor—was still only a few degrees above freezing. Outside it had to be twenty below, not counting the wind chill. The locals called December “Long Nights Moon,” while the Zarthani called it “Moon of the Long Darkness.” He was still acclimating himself to the Michigan winters; only this time without modern heating. Regardless, the security his people were enjoying here in Thagnor, for the first time since his arrival in Hostigos, was worth the discomfort.

The times, however, were not as kind to the Five Great Kingdoms back along the Atlantic seaboard.

Kalvan looked up at the deerskin map of Hos-Agrys and wondered how many of the Agrysi Princedoms had fallen under the heel of Styphon’s House. In winter intelligence gathering was dicey at best. The last messenger from Captain-General Hestophes in Hos-Agrys, who had arrived by boat at the beginning of winter, had told of Grand Master Soton’s preparations for the invasion of Hos-Agrys, or at least those princedoms not under his control. The League was still having problems getting its member Princes to work in concert; part of the legacy of former King Demosthenes who had routinely played his princes off against one another.

The most recent deerskin map of the Six Great Kingdoms, from the Royal Cartographic Office, displayed the territories under Styphon’s control—including Hos-Ktemnos, Hos-Bletha, Hos-Harphax and their former home, Hos-Hostigos—ringed in red. Only the borders of Hos-Zygros, which included New England and southeastern Canada to Lake Ontario, were marked in black.

Not all of those Great Kingdoms were solidly in the gunpowder theocracy’s grip: Hos-Harphax was a complete question mark. Rumors had it that Great King-Elect Selestros had led an uprising against his uncle, Great King Lysandros, and was now in control of Harphax City. Other rumors said the claimant was supported by Prince Phidestros, while some reports said the opposite. There was no word on the fate of Princess Arminta so he didn’t know if Phidestros had cut a deal with Styphon’s House, or had some plan of his own. All reminiscent of Renaissance Italy during the Borgia period.

The military support of Phidestros, the strongest of the Harphaxi Princes, would make or break Selestros’ attempt to hold Hos-Harphax now that his uncle, Great King Lysandros, was dead. He just wasn’t sure what was in it for Phidestros; he had been Lysandros’ fair-haired boy and had the largest holdings in the Five Kingdoms, including much of what had once been Hos-Hostigos. Prince Phidestros could declare himself Great King and no one could stop him; he wouldn’t be the first ambitious general to promote himself to the office of Great King.

Of course, all of that depended upon what Phidestros’ response was to the kidnapping of his pregnant wife. If he’d given into Styphon’s Voice’s demands, Selestros was already history.

Things were much better in the new Kingdom of Nos-Hostigos. The Grand Host of Styphon’s House had departed for Tarr-Ceros in the fall, with its tail dragging and supply trains under attack. King Theovacar had been punished for his strike against Thagnor by Kalvan’s stealth siege and capture of the jewel of Grefftscharr, Greffa City. For the first time since he had arrived here-and-now, Kalvan had breathing time; he meant to make the most of it.

The Aesklos Sea was choked with ice and the messenger, who was on his way to the War Room, had made his way overland through Rathon, or what was Ohio back in otherwhen. The messenger, his face snow-burnt and lined with fatigue, arrived trailed by King Chartiphon.

“Your Majesty,” Chartiphon said with a bow. He was dressed in his best finery and an ermine-lined robe.

Kalvan rose up and embraced the old soldier. “How are you?”

Chartiphon, who looked a decade younger than he had at the beginning of last winter, smiled. “Marriage has been good for me, Your Majesty. We will have an heir or heiress to the Throne of Rathon by summer.”

He squeezed Chartiphon’s shoulders and smiled. “That is good news, indeed.”

Kalvan pointed to the open chair to his left and indicated that the King should seat himself there. Queen Rylla, who was seated to his right, smiled at the signal honor on behalf of her old friend and mentor. It was Rylla who had championed Chartiphon and crowned him King of Rathon after the traitor Nestros had been deposed and beheaded.

Kalvan sat at the head of the table with the who’s who of Nos-Hostigos: Prince Phrames of Gytha, King Olthaf of Lahrag, Prince Sarrask of Ragyath, General Alkides, Prince Gundthar of Hythar, Grand Duke Vinaldos, the new Chief of Intelligence (at least until Duke Skranga returned from Hos-Bletha), Prince Cythros of Vysta, King Zythos of Cyros, Prince Pheblon of Nythros, Grand Admiral Herad, Prince Eythart of Morthron, General Klestreus, Duke Ruffulo representing Greffa and most of the other important Hostigi generals and captains filled both sides of the long trestle table. Today’s meeting of the War Council would set the tone and the course of the war against both Styphon’s House and King Theovacar of Grefftscharr for the next campaign season.

When everyone had quieted down, and all their goblets were filled with ale or wine, Kalvan cleared his throat to get their attention. “First, I want to thank you all for your support and help in conquering Thagnor, Rathon, Gytha, Greffa and most recently Nythros. Well done!”

Everyone nodded and a toast was declared by Prince Sarrask. “To Great King Kalvan, who’s led us to many great victories and many more yet to come!”

“Hear, hear!”

When the room had quieted, Kalvan spoke. “First I’d like to inform everyone that we have more than sufficient food stocks to get us through the winter.”

He had to pause again for more cries and banging on the table. When the noise had abated, he said, “A messenger has just arrived from Hos-Agrys. He will report on the latest developments.”

The messenger stood. “Your Majesty, I have just returned from Hos-Agrys. Momentous events have rocked the Five Great Kingdoms. First, Great King Sopharar has died under suspicious circumstances that many believe to be the work of his brother or Styphon’s House. Grand Duke Eudocles has now been enthroned as Great King Eudocles of Hos-Zygros. Eudocles’ first act after his elevation was to outlaw the League of Dralm throughout Hos-Zygros.”

That announcement was followed by a chorus of “Down Styphon!” And “Down Eudocles!”

The Agrysi League of Dralm had been depending on help from both Hos-Zygros and Hos-Harphax. Now they had not only lost an important ally, but gained a new enemy on their northern border.

“In Hos-Harphax, Your Majesty,” the messenger continued, “Prince Phidestros took the heads of both Great King Lysandros and his nephew, Great King-Elect Selestros. The latter event was instigated by Styphon’s House, who sent an army to Besh Town and captured the Prince’s wife, Princess Arminta. They told Phidestros they would only release the Princess upon receipt of Selestros’ head. At last report, the Princess was still in Balph and no one knows whether or not Styphon’s Voice will allow her to be released. If the Temple does not release her as promised, or otherwise harms the Princess, then Styphon’s House will have a fight on their hands.”