Gunpowder God (50 page)

“What’s this mean?” one of the Knights asked.

“Maybe the League of Dralm has been defeated and the guards are celebrating.” someone else added.

Sarmoth frowned. “We are not so favored by the gods. Let us move into Kyris Town and see what we discover. Maybe something there will illuminate these mysteries.”

The small party left the main trail, dismounted and led their horses toward the town. The sounds of merriment ensured their way and it wasn’t long before they approached the first out-buildings, mostly old farms and a buttery. Drawing closer to the town, they followed the sounds of laughter and heckling to the center square where several hundred townsmen and guardsmen were gathered in a throng.

Sarmoth took off his cloak and insignia and made his way over to where several horses were gathered in the midst of the crowd.

“I say my horse, Blackthorn, can beat any horse in the duchy,” roared one drunkard, dressed in a ripped azure doublet that hadn’t passed for finery for several years.

One of the guards, with a burgonet helmet and wearing the blue and red livery of Arbelon, spoke up, “Not against my mount, Panther Blood. I’ll lay ten silver crowns on it.”

“With my fifteen!” cried another soldier.

“So you want to lose your wages,” cried a big man in a black gown, lined with silver tracings.

The other guards shouted out their wagers, only to be met with jeers and catcalls from the town gallants.

Having seen enough, Sarmoth made his way back to his Point. “Longshanks, go tell the Commander that the guards have deserted their post to lay wagers on a horserace.”

Longshanks smiled, as if he knew already the Commander’s reactions to such horseplay.

Bets were still being wagered about an eighth of a candle later when Knight Commander Orocles and his advance party rode up.

“Make way, make way!”

The crowed parted, shrinking away from the warhorses and their riders wearing the black cloaks with Styphon’s sun-wheel emblazoned in silver.

Commander Orocles addressed the crowd. “Where is the garrison commander?”

Awed by the show of might, several of the peasants pointed to the man wearing the burgonet.

“Sir, why have you deserted your post?”

“My name is Captain Velos,” he said, although he was unable to keep a tremble out of his voice. “The day is golden, we are at peace and I saw no harm in joining our fellow townsmen in a race.”

Orocles drew back, his face reddening. “Peace, fah, you varlet! Are you so sure that the League of Dralm’s army is not on the move?”

The captain’s face was now as white as his horses’ coat. “How can they be near when we got word they were still in Eubros Town!”

Orocles reared his stallion, then drove him right up to the miscreant. “Have you never heard of a ruse of war, you imbecile!”

The captain whitened. “You mean the League’s Army is nearby?”

“No, but it doesn’t excuse your dereliction of duty.”

Sarmoth was shocked when the Commander pulled out his mace and slammed it full strength into the captain’s helmet, smashing and knocking it off as well as a large clump of the man’s skull.

The man fell in a heap while the crowd quickly melted away.

Sarmoth pointed to the remaining soldiers still in livery. “Go back to your posts. I will inform your Prince of your failure to follow his orders.”

Several took off running and Sarmoth doubted they’d stop until they reached Meligos, where they would beseech sanctuary from the Dralmists. He thought the Commander displayed poor judgment, but had taken enough of Orocles’ measure to know that no good would come from mentioning it. He would be glad when this adventure was over and he could return to the Grand Master’s command where saner heads ruled.
Is this another of Soton’s lessons…?
he wondered.

Captain-General Hestophes rode in the van of the League of Dralm’s Army along with several of his trusted Hostigi advisors. The Hostigi reinforcements had arrived a moon quarter ago, allowing them enough time to leave Eubros Town in time to reach Varthon Town before the army of Styphon’s Union of Friends. The Varthon border castle of Tarr-Kendreth had held out far longer than anyone would have expected, giving the League that most precious commodity—time. According to the latest reports, the Union army was slowly making its way overland to Varthon Town.

The Union of Styphon’s Friends army would have arrived before the League of Dralm’s forces, if it weren’t for the Investigation holding them back by stopping at every small town and village to search out possible heretics for questioning. Hestophes doubted that the Union’s commanders appreciated having to travel at the Investigator’s pace.
The commanders will likely be in a real lather by the time the Union reaches Varthon Town
, he decided.

Since they were coming from the southwest and the Union army was coming from the east, Hestophes doubted that the Union commander, Prince Simias, suspected that the League’s army was anywhere with several hundred marches. Varthon Town had clearly heard about the Styphoni invasion, as the wooden palisades and blockhouses were fully manned. Like many of the Saltless Seas’ towns, the walls were built with wood rather than stone. Tarr-Kendreth, one of the few stone castles in Varthon, had only held out so long because it was made of stone.

Hestophes doubted that the fortifications around Varthon City could hold the Styphoni for more than a few days. Their guns would make short work of the town’s wooden walls. Fortunately, the rains had been steady and the wooden palisades were too water soaked to catch fire, always the greatest vulnerability of wooden fortifications. Other than its value as a supply depot, he didn’t see any advantage to fighting within Varthon Town walls.

Instead Hestophes decided to lay out his army around one of the many small hills that terraced the eastern edge of Varthon Town, which occupied most of the flatland bordering the Sea of Skirlos. Like many of the nearby hills, this one had been heavily logged and he put men on brush detail to clear the small trees and plants that covered the hillside. This would put the League of Dralm’s army in between the town and the Union forces.

Once their supply route to the town was secure, all they had to do was wait for the Union Army to arrive.

Hestophes knew that if he were in charge of the Union forces, he would circle around the League of Dralm’s position, cut off the League’s supply route, and force the enemy to come to him. Since Captain-General Eukides had a reputation as a brilliant strategist, Hestophes had prepared for this eventuality by finding a ridge top with its own spring and stockpiling enough victuals for a moon-long standoff.

On the other hand, Eukides was not the sole commander of the Union Army and he doubted that his co-commander, Prince Simias, would show any such strategic sense. According to their intelligence, the Prince was hotheaded and rash in his judgments. Having Archpriest Roxthar goading him to further excess would not have had a salubrious effect on his usual state of mind. Roxthar, from all reports, had the patience of a toddler on his Name Day pointing at a sweetbread he wanted to eat.

At dawn two days later they captured the first Styphoni outrider. He was a former trapper who’d been impressed into the Union Army and gladly gave up everything he knew about the Union forces.

“I’m glad you caught me,” he said in a thick rural Agrysi accent. “I spent too much time being eyed by those butchers in white robes. Not much scares me after thirty years of trapping; I’ve been treed by bears and bitten by wolves, but those Investigators make my blood run cold.” He went on to describe the usual atrocities and murders that had become standard operating procedure by the Holy Investigation of Styphon’s House.

Having seen their work firsthand in Hostigos, Hestophes could have given the scout plenty of his own anecdotes concerning the Investigation’s barbarity and cruelty. The former trapper did mention one surprise: hundreds of soldiers had deserted the Union’s Army since they crossed the border from Kryphlon into Varthon. “It’s those damn Styphon’s House priests, they’ve scared off some of the best troops with their butchery. The men are fine with fighting their princes’ enemies, but not savaging and torturing innocent civilians.”

Hestophes wondered if they could use that against the Union. He turned to one of his captains, ordering, “Send more scouts out to search for deserters. Some of them might be willing to sign our muster list.”

The scout confirmed their estimates about the quality of the Union army. “Some are bodyguards and steady troops, but many are just poorly-trained peasant militia impressed into service who will melt away at the first opportunity,” he offered. “It’s the Temple Bands of Styphon’s Own Guard that are the most dangerous. If they catch a man falling back or retreating, they’ll run him through on the spot!”

The Union army might melt away, given sufficient time in the field, Hestophes concluded, but it wasn’t going to retreat or retire without great cause. The fear of a blade or bullet in the back and Styphon’s Investigation would keep most of them fighting even when things turned bleak.

As to whether or not the Union of Styphon’s Friends expected any resistance at Varthon Town, the scout had this to say: “No, Prince Simias’ advisors have convinced him that your army is still in Eubros, or on its way to Agrys City.”

The Union’s main body was only three or four days away and Hestophes continued his preparations. The Hostigi reinforcements, over six thousand men—more than he’d expected—were mostly infantry. He decided to place the Hostigi pikemen, backed by the Agrysi pike, at the center and place the princely armies on both flanks. The rest of the Hostigi, twenty-five hundred men, a thousand horse and fifteen hundred foot, would form the reserve and shore up any breaks in the line.

The rain slackened off and the men were in good spirits, firm in their belief that the Allfather supported their efforts. Primate Xentos encouraged this mood by visiting the different camps during the evening and giving blessings and morale-raising speeches. Hestophes didn’t know whether it would do any good, but it certainly didn’t hurt.

The true test would be when it came down to push of pike. That came two days later when the Army of the Union of Styphon’s Friends came into sight. At first, it appeared to be a motley disordered mob, but as it drew closer Hestophes could see that some of them still knew how to move in order.

The first Union outriders had just returned from reconnoitering the enemy’s position. They reported to the Union commanders that the League of Dralm’s Army was waiting for them in a prepared position about five marches from the town walls.

“It is my recommendation that we retire from the field and return to Kryphlon and await the League’s army there,” Captain-General Eukides advised. “Let the League’s Army come to us, rather than let them call the battle terms.”

Prince Simias shook his head. “We haven’t come all this way just to turn around and go running back home like cowards! We’ll be a laughingstock. We promised the Union a victory and I mean to see we get it.”

Holy Investigator Roxthar shouted his agreement. “Kill them now, allow them no succor or relief!”

“From the scouting reports,” Eukides continued, “they count among their number almost as many men as we can field.” He was not about to allow himself to be intimidated by these two fools; between the two of them, they didn’t have a new recruit’s knowledge of military strategy. “Your Highness, we are running low on victuals. The enemy has the town to draw upon for supplies. Furthermore, we are on their territory, which they know like the palms of their hands.”

“We have the League pinned down,” Simias said. “We’ll never have a better opportunity to destroy their entire military force. With this victory, we will have crushed them for all time.”

“It is Styphon’s Will that we attack!” Roxthar, his lean face radiant with conviction, cried out.

“You’re not listening,” Eukides said. “We are dangerously low on supplies, especially foodstuffs. If we must attack the League, I suggest we pin them down in their present position until our next supply train arrives, and then attack.”

“Baah!” Prince Simias cried out. “There are plenty of supplies within Varthon Town, which we will sack right after we destroy the League’s Army. Our guns will make short work of those wooden walls.”

“Yes, but if we don’t defeat them, we will be the ones in jeopardy. Low on supplies and on the run, how do you think our army will fare then?”

“You speak treason,” Roxthar hissed. “This army is blessed by Styphon and is following the True God’s will. No mere mortals can stop us.

For the first time in many years, Eukides felt a chill run up his spine.
They are truly mad. They know not fear or even a modicum of tactics.
He forced himself to stand up as straight as he could, then looked the Arch-devil straight in the eyes. “I have given my oath, my sworn word of honor, to lead this army to victory.”

He pulled out his poignard.

Both Roxthar and Prince Simias jumped back.

Eukides gripped his dagger by the point and held it out hilt first. “If I speak treason, use this blade now!”

Simias looked sheepishly over at Roxthar, then turned back to Eukides. “I know your oath is as good as Styphon’s gold. The Holy Investigator was speaking out in the heat of the moment.”

“Good, then that is settled. Is it not, Archpriest?” he asked.

Roxthar, his face beet red, looked as if he’d just swallowed a turkey egg. “I accept your apology. I may have spoken too hastily.”

Eukides nodded. “I am speaking military tactics, not treason. If we fight on the League’s chosen ground, we give them the advantage. They will be fighting from a prepared position with plenty of stores and a clear line of support from Varthon Town.

“We have burned up everything from Tarr-Kendreth to the outskirts of Varthon Town. We will be forced to march uphill to fight the enemy and our losses will be heavy even before the clash of arms. Fighting here is not to our advantage. Retreating and forcing the League’s Army to follow us, is what we want. There is no cheap or quick victory here.”