Gunpowder God (41 page)

“The princes are reluctant to call out their levy for a long campaign, since they will have to be paid in gold or land for their services if their term of service is longer than two seasons. And this looks to be a very long war; it could go on for many winters. The princes, rightfully, will assert that they will be bankrupt at the wars’ conclusion.”

Hestophes took out his pipe and pointed it at the Duke. “Bankrupt is a lot better than dead or Investigated. You can tell them I said so, too. You can also tell them that they can muster half their levy at one time, returning them to their lands after six moons, then replace them with those who have not served.”

“That is an excellent point, Captain-General.”

“I learned it from the best, King Kalvan. He called it ‘troop rotation.’ It cut the Hostigi gentry off at the knees and greatly expanded our ‘man pool,’ another of his expressions. The levy may not provide the best troops, but they will improve or die. Not all of Soton’s soldiers are first-rate either; the Temple Bands and the Knights have been bled badly both in Hostigos and at the Siege of Thagnor.”

“If we’re successful,” Mnestros added, “we could add another eight to ten thousand men to the League’s Army. That may give us the troops to stop Soton before he can despoil our lands.”

Hestophes shook his head. “The only way we can face Soton’s Host is if Kalvan sends us the Army of Nos-Hostigos. Until I know how many men we have and of what quality, I can’t make any strategic decisions. If we toss the bones again, like we did outside Agrys City last summer, and lose—it will be the kingdom’s death. We may have to fight what Kalvan calls a war of attrition. Unfortunately, such an action may loosen Soton’s reins on Archpriest Roxthar, which will mean death for all we leave behind. The Investigator could kill every other person in the Kingdom and still not be satisfied that he’s gotten all the heretics. That is our biggest worry.”

Mnestros grabbed his forehead. “I feel like I’ve drunk a barrel of ale by myself with all this thinking. What happened to real warfare, where two armies of mercenaries fought until one retired?”

“Styphon’s House and Roxthar put an end to that kind of war. This is a war of god against gods, the True Gods against the False God Styphon. As the Fireseed Wars have demonstrated, there will be no victor until one side is vanquished. Right now the battlefield of the gods is the Kingdom of Hos-Agrys.”

“Maybe we should all pray rather than fight, then?” Mnestros asked.

Hestophes made a barking noise. “Tell that to the dead highpriests of Dralm who were Investigated after the fall of Agrys City. No, the gods will not intervene in our battles, as Kalvan has told us so many times. It is up to us to stop the minions of Styphon and put an end to his horrors for all time.”

“Now, all we have to do is convince the princes of Hos-Agrys of this. I fear it will not be easy.”

“No hard job is, but it is for their own salvation as well as the gods. Be sure to make this clear to them.”

“I will, Captain General. Look the fire is banked again. I’ll toss some logs on.”

“I bet it is even colder in your bedchamber at night, Baron.”

Hestophes nodded.

Mnestros paused to walk over to the fireplace and tossed in two more logs, setting off a shower of sparks. “I know your wife is far away in Agrys City. However, I can provide a bed warmer if you so desire, a pretty one, too.”

Hestophes shook his head. Lysia was his true love and no other woman could take her place, not even for a quick bundle. He knew most of his fellow peers would laugh at such a romantic notion, but he suspected the man he admired most, King Kalvan, would agree completely.

Grand Master Soton was pacing back and forth, chuffing his pipe, in front of the great hearth in Styphon’s Voice’s private chambers.

Anaxthenes pushed a cloud of smoke away from his face and cried out, “Soton, enough! You’re blowing more smoke than a bellows in a blacksmith’s shop. I cannot promise you more Ktemnoi soldiers. The princes of Hos-Ktemnos are on the verge of rebellion. They believe, and rightfully so, that their troops are needed for defense of the kingdom. The barbarian armies reached all the way to the outskirts of Ktemnos City and many of the kingdom’s best soldiers died repelling their attacks. Too many villages and small towns were sacked and destroyed. It will take the southern princes many winters to recover lost taxes and duties.”

Soton stopped still in his tracks. “Isn’t Great King Lukthos one of your puppets, Your Divinity? Have him order his princes to aid our cause.

Anaxthenes shook his head. “Lukthos only succeeded Great King Cleitharses because he was his closest living relative. He is a weak man who dotes on his mother and has never earned his spurs. If Hos-Ktemnos had Electors such as Hos-Harphax does, Lukthos would not have been elected to village hetman. If the Temple orders Great King Lukthos to push his princes too hard, it may turn them further away from him and the Golden Throne. He is too useful as a figurehead to discard for a doomed venture.”

“I’m having Hadron’s Own Time recruiting new soldiers for the Host of Styphon’s Deliverance. I’ve only been able to muster some four thousand men. According to our agents-inquisitory the League of Dralm has chosen one of the Usurper Kalvan’s best captain-generals to lead their army, Captain-General Hestophes. Plus, there are rumors that the Usurper will be sending ten to twenty thousand soldiers to aid their cause.”

“Pure poppycock,” Anaxthenes replied. “The Usurper will need his men to protect his new lands from King Theovacar. He will not send them en masse to Hos-Agrys. What does the Daemon owe those fools who would not support him when he needed their help?”

“The Usurper does not always look to his own interest, or at least, his short-term interest,” Soton said.
Unlike the Archpriests of the Inner Circle of Styphon’s House, who only see as far as their greedy hands can reach.
“He will support the League because he knows that by doing so he thwarts our conquest of Hos-Agrys and forces the Temple to spend profligate amounts of men and gold.”

“Then he is succeeding. I had wanted to keep Orocles’ Army of the Besh here in Balph, but I will order him and his men to Agrys City to join the Host of Styphon’s Deliverance.”

Soton nodded. “They will go a long way toward stiffening the Host. If I am forced to include Archpriest Roxthar, maybe you can order Marshal Xenophes to provide me with ten Temple Bands.”

“Why not? As we’ve discussed, Styphon’s Own Guard no longer owes its allegiance to myself or the Inner Circle. I will order him and his Bands to assist in the conquest and pacification of Hos-Agrys. And that he will be under your command.”

“Thank you, Your Divinity. One more request. I would like you to order the Agrysi Union of Styphon’s Friends to come to our aid.”

“That is easily done. I will dictate my pronouncement to my personal scribe and have it sent to each of the Princes. However, I cannot determine how many will respond to my orders, or the quality of troops they may provide.”

“You might include some honey with the vinegar, Your Divinity.”

“How so?”

“Promise the princes two golden rakmars for each soldier they provide that meets our muster; otherwise, they will send every mother’s youngest son and drunkard in the kingdom.”

Styphon’s Voice ran his fingers along his chin. “That’s a lot of gold for soldiers of unknown quality. The Inner Circle will be unhappy with such an expenditure.”

Soton laughed. “They will do as you tell them, Your Divinity. We both know that. Besides, it will be money well spent, as those will be soldiers that the League cannot use. If nothing else, they will make good cannon fodder. Plus, any of those Princes who are considering abandoning our cause may be moved by the lure of gold. If we do not spend the Temple’s gold in our own defense, in a few winters it will be taken from the Temple by the Dralm worshippers or the barbarians from the Sea of Grass.”

“Your arguments carry a lot of weight, Grand Master. I will see that it is done. I want you to crush our enemies in Hos-Agrys and put it under our rule.”

Aranth Saln, otherwise known as Ranthos on Kalvan’s Time-Line, joined Captain-General Hestophes at the Black Bull Tavern for a private talk. He knew that a noisy tavern was one of the safest places to have a confidential discussion, since the noise level made spying almost impossible. Especially in a room full of Hostigi soldiers who had little tolerance for outsiders. The Black Bull was their home away from home; the barkeep was a former mercenary from Nostor who had stayed in Eubros after his mercenary company disbanded. Varos’ hair was now silver and his teeth ancient history, but his familiar accent gave the taproom a familiarity that the men so far from home couldn’t get anywhere else in Eubros Town, or for that matter, anywhere else in western Hos-Agrys.

After getting his own tankard of ale from the barkeep, Ranthos sat at Hestophes’ table. Most of the other soldiers were noncoms or rank and file and wouldn’t sit at their commander’s table. As a Grand-Captain, Ranthos didn’t have that problem. Besides, over the winter, he and Hestophes had become friends which made his decision all that more difficult.

“How did the gun practice go today?” Hestophes asked.

Ranthos shook his head. “One gun exploded on us. We’ve been going light on the powder, but apparently one of the hoops that keeps the barrel together had rusted out underneath. I lost two good men and a six-pounder. I suggest we go back to using Styphon’s Best; the Hostigi powder is just too strong for these rattle-trap guns the Agrysi use.

Hestophes nodded. “There are very few cast guns in Hos-Agrys and most of those are from Hos-Zygros or were imported from Hostigos. How many working guns will we have?”

Ranthos sighed. “Maybe twenty-two guns, mostly four- and six-pounders; all of them to be carried on carts. Only two have trunnions, and they just arrived from Meligos. They’re too big to bring with us without gun carriages, which we don’t have time to construct. I’m sorry, Hestophes, but these Agrysi guns are next to worthless.”

“It’s Styphon’s House’s fault. They made the fireseed so expensive that the princes in Hos-Agrys never made the investment in artillery. Great King Demistophon was a weak ruler and allowed his princes too much leeway. As a result, the Agrysi are behind everyone else in the Five Kingdoms, except Hos-Bletha, in the tools of war. And, now they will pay the butcher’s bill.”

The Agrysi princes are lacking good sense as well
, Ranthos thought.
I’ve never seen such an arrogant bunch of featherheads outside Dhergabar University
.

“Sir, that’s what I wanted to discuss with you. Spring is on the way and it’s time I returned to Greater Beshta and reported in to Prince Phidestros. He will be most interested in the events taking place here.”

Hestophes shook his head. “I cannot in good conscience order you to stay, Ranthos, but I will ask as a friend. In truth, I have no other commander I can entrust with the League’s artillery, be that as it may.”

“Let me be frank, then,” Ranthos said. “The League command structure is so jumbled up it’s debatable that you will retain your command of the League Army by the time of the next moon. Also, there are rumors that Grand Master Soton and his army may be marching out of Hos-Agrys far earlier in the spring than any large force I’ve ever heard of. If they marched straight to Eubros Town and attacked it, they could destroy the Army here and nothing we can do could stop them. Am I wrong, sir?”

Hestophes shook his head. “No.” He paused to empty his tankard. “I have my orders and as long as I’m in command I’m oath-bound to stay. I almost envy you…if I were an un-sworn free companion, I would be halfway to Thagnor City by now.”

Ranthos felt the almost forgotten pangs of guilt. He truly liked this honest and hard-working soldier, but he wasn’t going to let unproductive emotional residues condemn him to an early death. “I’m sorry, Hestophes, but I have my orders. I’ve already overstayed my time here, as the Prince had wanted me to return last fall. I will burn incense before Galzar’s Shrine when I arrive in Besh Town.”

“Go with my blessing, then.”

They both clasped hands

“When will you be leaving?”

“After sunrise. We’ve got many marches ahead of us and I’ve grown anxious to return home.”

Hestophes sighed. “I understand.”

F
rom the time the scouts first reported sighting the Princess’s party, it seemed like an entire quarter moon had passed before they reached the gates of Besh Town. During this time, Prince Phidestros had decided that the old castle was too drafty and chilly for a baby and had decided to build a great palace, where the ruins of Balthar’s old summer palace rested, in the center of town. In his mind, he’d already drawn up the plans for the first three floors.

He’d also come to the realization that they didn’t have a name for their newborn son. Traditionally, children weren’t given a real name until their Name Day, although most of the kings and great princes named their heirs shortly after birth as a way of consolidating their dynasty.