Gunpowder God (60 page)

“Fertilizer. We use horse and cow manure to fertilize the fields before we plant the crops,” the Rector answered. “As you know, the Royal Stables produce a lot of manure!”

Elder Wolthran laughed. “Truth. Is that why some of the Zarthani farmers were tilling their soil last fall?”

“Yes, that’s when they were adding manure for the next year’s crops,” Kalvan said. “Otherwise the soil is too rich for the plants. Another reason for crop rotation is that it provides more nutrients to the soil, for example, growing barley in the spring and kidney beans in the late summer helps keep the soil in balance.”

The old man shrugged. “Your Majesty, all this talk makes my head spin. But, by Nerthos, goddess of the earth, I will admit the Royal College plantings are stronger and more vital than our own. If that’s what your cowpies do for the soil, I will try it myself.”

“The corn we planted is from a different seed, as well,” the Rector admitted. “His Majesty helped us develop a better corn seed by only using the best cobs for seed corn”

Their discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a troop of horsemen coming down the dirt road, raising a small dust cloud.

“Sorry, Elder, but it looks like business,” Kalvan said.

Kalvan walked over to the dirt road with his bodyguard, Vanar Halgoth. The horsemen were flying Hostigi colors and he hoped it was news of the war to the northeast.

Leading the pack was Duke Vinaldos with several light cavalrymen in leather jerkins and wearing morion helmets.

Vinaldos was the first to dismount. “Your Majesty, news regarding the war in Hos-Agrys.”

Kalvan pointed to a copse of trees just beyond the village boundary. “Let’s talk over there.” He didn’t need any new rumors circulating, as the locals were a gossipy lot.

Kalvan led the way through the small village of thatch roofed cottages with Halgoth and Vinaldos trailing. Several peasant women stopped working in their vegetable gardens to stare and a couple of children stopped their playing to wave.

“Long live King Kalvan!” an old crone called out in Urgothi.

Reaching the trees, Kalvan pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead, then reached for his canteen which carried water doctored with wine. “Whatever you’ve heard, it must be important or you’d have waited until I was back at Tarr-Thagnor.”

Vinaldos nodded. “We just received a dispatch from Captain-General Hestophes, saying that the League’s Army defeated the Styphoni outside Varthon Town. All the details are in the dispatch.” He pulled several scrolls out of his pouch.

“What’s the down and dirty?” Kalvan asked.

“The battle was won when the Union’s right flank ran off the field of battle to chase the League’s left wing. The losses were high, over eight thousand casualties”

Kalvan whistled. That was a lot of wounded and dead for a here-and-now victory. One expected such high losses when you were defeated; it must have been a real murthering battle.

“On the other cheek, the Styphoni lost some twelve to fourteen thousand men. We’ll never have an accurate figure because the League pursued them until they killed everyone they could find. Then the peasants killed many more when they tried to leave the Princedom of Varthon.”

Kalvan shook his head. Religious wars were the worst; if Styphon’s House wasn’t careful this war might depopulate the entire eastern seaboard.

“I saved the best news for last. Archpriest Roxthar, who goes by the name of Holy Investigator, was found disemboweled and his head is now on a pike at the front gates of Varthon Town.”

“This is wonderful news!” Kalvan exclaimed.

Everyone there greeted the news with a chorus of “Down Styphon!”

“We need to shout it from the rooftops,” Kalvan shouted. “When I return to Tarr-Thagnor, I’ll declare a day of kingdom-wide celebration! ‘Ding Dong! The Investigator is dead. The Wicked One! Ding Dong! The Wicked Priest is dead,’” Kalvan improvised, singing and dancing in circles.

Everyone looked at him as if he’d just grown horns.

“Excuse me, it’s a song from my homeland. A song of joy, celebrating the death of monsters in human guise.”

After the impromptu celebration ended, Kalvan asked, “Oh, I almost forgot! How is the Captain-General? Is he going to stay in Hos-Agrys to manage the war against Styphon’s House?”

Vinaldos smiled. “He’s returning home. He and his troops should be arriving within a moon quarter. They were still arranging ship transport when this message was sent by courier ship.”

“Good. I’m glad he survived, I was a little worried.” He didn’t have that many talented generals left and Hestophes was one of the best. Besides, he genuinely liked him; Hestophes didn’t have the overweening arrogance that he so often encountered among the Zarthani nobility and gentry. Maybe it was his humble origins; but Kalvan liked to think it was due to his good character.

“The bad news is he’ll only be bringing home about half of the troops he left with.”

Kalvan visibly winced. Rylla wasn’t going to be happy when she heard this news; she’d already correctly determined that he’d sent many of his most vocal opponents to fight against Styphon’s House in Hos-Agrys.

“Most of them were lost in a pitched battle in the center against Styphon’s Own Guard,” Vinaldos reported. “The Captain-General had a lot of good things to say about his men. There aren’t many soldiers in the Five Kingdoms who can stand up to the Temple Guardsmen and defeat them.”

“Does he say why they’re leaving now?” Kalvan asked.

Vinaldos nodded. “The League’s army is too few to fight against Soton’s Host and, when Hestophes suggested a war of attrition, as you suggested, the princes were not receptive to his words. The Captain-General believes they have no other choice. It appears that many of them were returning to their princedoms to protect their lands.”

“Yes, where they will be defeated in detail,” Kalvan replied. “Although, in truth, the princes are between a rock and a hard place. If they stay together to fight the Host, they will be slaughtered collectively; on the other hand, if they fight in their own territory, they will lose one princedom at a time.”

A
naxthenes sat in his over-stuffed chair in the inner sanctum of his private audience chamber where so many previous Supreme Priests had taken their solace. The room was filled with treasures and beautiful objects: a Thunderbird buffalo skull with turquoise inlay on the horns and the skull covered with gold, a pair of ornate battleaxes with hammered golden blades, a bejeweled crown with multi-colored plumes, a man-sized, pure-gold statue of the first priest who discovered the Fireseed Trinity, a rainbow-colored feather tapestry of a plumed serpent from the Empire of the Mexicotál, a silver death-mask of some forgotten Supreme Priest, and chests overflowing with precious gems and golden jewelry—more wealth than any man could spend in ten lifetimes.

The Temple’s power was at its peak. He had just finished reading the latest dispatch from Grand Master Soton, the rune-filled parchment rested on the table before him. The Grand Master was adding new triumphs and conquests to his name; the Host of Styphon’s Deliverance was moving from one Hos-Agrysi princedom to the next in victory. Soton proclaimed that he would have the entire kingdom conquered by mid-summer. At the time of his letter, his army had been in the Princedom of Eubros, laying siege to Tarr-Eubros. The League’s Army had broken into fragments as each prince withdrew to protect his own holdings and, other than sporadic attacks upon the Host by bands of rebels, the war was proceeding on schedule.

The other was the victory of the League of Dralm over the army of the Union of Styphon’s Friends.

Soton claimed not to be worried over the League’s success, writing that winning the battle had resulted in a crippling loss of military manpower. “The League’s Army has never been strong enough to face the Host of Styphon’s Deliverance in open battle and in the future, due to a loss of almost a third of their forces, the League will be even less inclined.” That made sense, but what new devilment might the League cause?

Anaxthenes wiped his forehead.
Nothing that will concern me
, he decided. Let Prince-Regent Grythos worry about that. That was his job now that Soton had written:

The Order forces will be returning to Tarr-Ceros once we have finished conquering all the Agrysi princedoms and eliminating their armies. I will leave it to Archpriest Grythos to replace the princes, both Union and League, who have been cast down
.

Yet, despite Soton’s victories, new dangers to the Temple’s hegemony were cropping up, the latest in the form of Prince Phidestros who had become the new Great King of Hos-Zygros. Phidestros was a dangerous man, both a great strategist and a true leader of men. He had even garnered Grand Master Soton’s attention, as noted in his latest scroll:

Now that the Usurper Kalvan has been exiled, I am more worried about the newly enthroned Great King Phidestros. Whereas Kalvan was restrained in his actions by his love of his subjects, Phidestros knows no superior except his own ambition. At this point, he commands more soldiers than any two Great Kings combined and, when joined with his lackey, Great King Geblon, maybe more men than even the Temple can muster. Woe be it to Styphon’s House should Phidestros desire to enlarge his holdings at the Temple’s expense
.

He wished the Grand Master were here so he could question him further. Did Soton mean that Phidestros could raise an army better or stronger than the Temple could? Or was he saying that the resulting war would bring down both the Temple and Great King Phidestros? There was much to ponder; unfortunately, it would be difficult to put together another large army after the Host of Styphon’s Deliverance was disbanded—as Soton clearly intended to do once the war in Hos-Agrys was over.

After five years of commanding the Temple’s armies, Anaxthenes doubted that even he, as Styphon’s Own Voice, could command Soton to keep the Host of Styphon’s Deliverance together, or even send it against Hos-Zygros.
Soton’s become so successful and powerful that he now balks at orders and makes his own demands. Unfortunately, none of Styphon’s House’s other commanders have had any great success in the field, except Grand Commander Aristocles who is beholden to Soton. Otherwise, I might be tempted to remove the Grand Master permanently
.

The worst part was Kalvan that was still alive and waiting in the wings. His participation in the Hos-Agrys conquest showed that he still had interests in the Five Kingdoms. Unfortunately, the Grand Host of Styphon’s House had been unable to sack Thagnor City or force Kalvan to battle. Now, the Usurper had the advantage; he could raise a new army and attack from the west.

If I were Kalvan, who would I attack first? A most interesting question.
If Kalvan wanted his old Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos back, he’d have to advance into Great King Geblon’s territory. This would pull Great King Phidestros into the fight and Kalvan would find himself fighting on two fronts, three if Soton could be convinced to strike at the heart of Nos-Hostigos while Kalvan was gone. After Phidestros defeated the distracted Kalvan, Grand Master Soton could move in to pick up the pieces and all three could be sent to Regwarn’s Caverns.

For the first time that day, Anaxthenes smiled.
I’m not the only one who’s got problems.
Now, the big question was how could he maneuver Kalvan into making such a precipitous move?

Of course, all this depended upon how much animus Great King Phidestros held for Styphon’s House. Anaxthenes would have to make an attempt to re-establish relations with the Bastard King.
Phidestros will let bygones be bygones, if I can convince him it’s in his best interest.
After all, they had both earned Kalvan’s undying ire and Phidestros, if nothing else, was a realist.

Grand Master Soton watched from a nearby hilltop as Meligos City burned. Even he had to admit the sacking of Meligos had gotten out of hand. The entire city was engulfed in flames and billows of greasy black smoke filled the sky, turning the sun into a fiery red disc. The wind was blowing from the northeast and dense clouds of black and gray-ribbed smoke completely obscured the Agrys River. Above the crackling and hissing of the fire, he could hear the screams of the dying.

Are these the sounds that the damned hear in the deepest bowels of Regwarn?
he wondered.

The siege had started out as so many others had during this campaign; Prince Kyphanes had sent out his ambassadors to parley over the city’s surrender. One of Soton’s terms had been the Prince’s surrender. Kyphanes, the traitor, had deserted the Union of Styphon’s Friends and must be made to pay the price for his treason. Unlike the last two towns, which had surrendered taking whatever terms were offered, Meligos City had held out for almost a moon half.

Soton had then broadcast the terms of surrender to the city fathers and the populace, figuring that someone in the Meligos City had enough sense to force their prince to surrender. When no word had been forthcoming, Soton had ordered bombardment. The walls were strong and made of stone and it took almost a moon half before they had the first breach. Inside the city, the inhabitants fought his soldiers building by building, taking a surprising number of casualties.