Gunpowder God (40 page)

Sirna’s most recent papers were actually appearing in the popular press on Home Time Line. Her superiors on the Harphaxi Study Team were just as jealous and envious as Styphoni highpriests who’d been passed over for the position of archpriest. Obviously, she was unaware of just how much of a media sensation she was on First Level because she was too busy living her life as the King and Queen’s trusted advisor.

After they were seated and drinks were served, he noticed that Sirna appeared nervous. “Sirna, I didn’t bring you here for a dressing down. No, I sent for you because I think you’re doing a great job despite all the complaining from the academic half of the Study Team. Those professors couldn’t survive a ten-day outside these walls.”

She practically collapsed in relief. “Thank you, Dard. I was worried that my meddling might be taken for Paratemporal Contamination, especially when the Royals named their new baby after me.”

Maldar laughed. “Oh, no. You’re not offering opinions or giving outtimers information unavailable on the Styphon’s House Subsector. You’re giving advice to people who’ve asked for it. I don’t think anyone on this time-line could have done a better job of uniting Queen Lavena with Prince-Elect Geblon. As for having the young princess named after you, that’s an honor even Scholar Danthor Dras has never achieved.”

“I was surprised, at first, because most newborns on Aryan-Transpacific aren’t typically named until their official Name Day, which doesn’t arrive until they’ve reached three to four years of age due to the high infant mortality. But thanks to some of Kalvan’s innovations, like washing hands to kill fester devils, that’s beginning to change. Of course, in this case, due to the high profile of the new Royals and the shakiness of their claims to the Iron Throne, the new baby is very important as she represents stability and the future welfare of the realm.”

Maldar Dard nodded, taking out his pipe and filling it with tobacco. “How did you bring Lavena and the Prince-Elect together?”

“I knew they both were attracted to each other because whenever I said anything the least bit detrimental about the other, they immediately corrected me or gave me another interpretation of what I’d told them. The problem, as I saw it, was Queen Lavena had too much pride to capitulate to Geblon’s suit without a lot of ‘yes I dos’ or ‘no I don’ts.’ Plus, her idea of romantic love and marriage is that of a schoolgirl. If she had ever really gotten to
know
King Lysandros that would have all changed, but she didn’t. He died and left Lavena a widow without the benefits of her learning anything about men, or knowing her husband’s true nature.

“Geblon’s problem was he’d never been in a romantic relationship; most of his congress had been with prostitutes, which makes sense because he was a soldier on the move. The Iron Band had become his family with Prince Phidestros as the father figure. Plus, on top of all that, he’s shy and afraid of rejection. So, by revealing in private each other’s real thoughts—or at least what I thought they were—I was able to give each of them a ‘safe’ place to declare their real feelings.”

“This is probably why they named the baby after you.”

“In part, I believe it is. In addition, Geblon comes from an undistinguished background and had no one he wanted to honor, while Lavena is mad at both her parents. She never got along with her mother who died before they could reconcile their differences. This was Lavena’s way of thanking me for being there for her. She’s been completely isolated ever since she left Hostigos; even when Lysandros was in the City, he was too busy organizing his army to spend any real time with her. I guess you could say I’ve been her only friend in Hos-Harphax where she’s been both despised and envied by almost everyone. So, now that I look back on it, I’m really not surprised at this honor.”

“You did a great job, Sirna. Without your help, they might have spent dozens of ten-days, or even a year sorting out their feelings, during which time the entire Kingdom might have fallen apart. Which would have aided Styphon’s House in a number of ways since they cannot be happy with one of Phidestros’ captains being enthroned on the Iron Throne. In fact, now that Geblon is Great King of Hos-Harphax, your position is more valuable than ever. Especially, since you’re the only person on Kalvan’s Time-Line they both like and trust.

“The position you are in rarely comes once in a lifetime, even for us long-lived Paratimers. After all, look at Danthor Dras: it took him a lifetime of study to be able to pass himself off as an Archpriest of the Inner Circle, and at that, he was incredibly fortunate. You, you’re just an undergrad who did almost the same thing!”

“Really. So I’m not in trouble?”

“No, you’re not. In fact, back on Home Time Line there are young girls reading your story who are hoping to grow up to be just like you.

Sirna sat back in her chair stunned. “How are they hearing about all of this?”

“Your research papers have been rewritten and juiced up a bit as stories for the
Dhergabar Times
and several magazines. When you return to First Level, you can, as they say on Fourth Level, write your own ticket.”

“Does this mean I have to leave?”

Maldar laughed. “No, Sirna, you have pretty much a free rein. Your degree is guaranteed and you could even make Scholar. But, if you’re interested, you could have a bright career in the Department.”

“The Paratime Police,” she said eagerly. “I’ve had my fill of the academic life, but I don’t want to leave Harphax City until things with Kalvan and Styphon’s House are resolved—one way, or the other.”

“That can be arranged,” Maldar said. He hoped Sirna stayed in Harphax City for a long time. He’d very much like to get to know her better.

T
he old castle was drafty, but to Hestophes it wasn’t nearly as cold as Tarr-Thagnor had been last winter. He began to rub his hands to get the feeling back before he picked up the first of three logs he was going to toss into the fireplace. The flames flared as he fed the fire. While it was debatable as to whether or not the room was much warmer, it sure felt like it.

Once things were more settled, he’d help Duke Mnestros build one of Kalvan’s
Austrian stoves
, as he called them, for Tarr-Eubros. One of those stoves would heat this frosty audience chamber within half a candle. While he waited for Mnestros to return from the privy, Hestophes wondered how things were going in the far off Upper Middle Kingdoms. According to the last dispatch from Tarr-Thagnor HQ, Kalvan had successfully besieged Nythros City and incorporated it into the Great Kingdom of Nos-Hostigos. Kalvan had crowned former Prince Pheblon of Nostor as the new Prince of Nythros.

Hestophes agreed with his Great King that Pheblon was a good choice for such an important holding since it held the key to the Aesklos Sea. Pheblon might not be a boon companion, as he was too full of himself and a dour drinking companion, but the Prince was as loyal as the day was long.

Pheblon owed his station to King Kalvan and he knew it, unlike some others such as former Prince Kestophes who was now fertilizing the palace grounds. Kestophes had been tried before his peers for treachery against the Throne and the princes of Nos-Hostigos had collectively sentenced him to death by beheading.

If Kalvan continued his string of successes, Nos-Hostigos would soon dwarf the original Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos. With most of Hos-Hostigos in ruins, he was beginning to wonder if they would ever return. Like many Hostigi, his former barony, Eython, was in ruins, his family lost, his subjects dead or scattered to the wind. In truth, there was little left in Hostigos for anyone but memories and the graves of those lost in the wars.

Yet, so many of the Hostigi, like Rylla, Phrames, Prince Sarrask, and even Chartiphon, talked as if they would return to their old homes in a winter or two and all would be restored, as if by the gods, as soon as Styphon’s House was vanquished. He wondered when they’d wake up….

He and Duke Mnestros were trying to work out some sort of plan on how to contain the Army of Styphon’s Deliverance once spring arrived. Grand Master Soton was off in Balph, according to the latest spy report. But it was likely Soton would return as soon as good weather did, bringing more soldiers and supplies.

It was worthless to consult the other princes and captain-generals who made up the bulk of the League Army since none of them had fought in the Fireseed Wars before last summer’s abortive attack on the Styphoni lines outside Tarr-Agrys. Who he really needed to consult with were Great King Kalvan, Prince Phrames, Queen Rylla and maybe, yes maybe, good old Prince Sarrask. And, while he was asking the gods for miracles, the Army of Nos-Hostigos as well.

He took another drink of hot cider and took a moment to thank Allfather Dralm for the five thousand Royal troops Kalvan had promised to send in the spring. Now that Prince Sopharar was dead and Hos-Zygros no longer an ally—the Kingdom was now allied with Styphon’s House—there would be no help from that quarter. Even worse, it looked as if they would have to be prepared for a Zygrosi army coming south. Prince Eudocles was a nasty piece of business and probably no Styphon worshipper, but he would need the Temple’s support to continue his reign as few of the Zygrosi princes had supported his enthronement.

Duke Mnestros came into the room blowing on his hands and stomping his feet. “This damnable cold. By the gods, spring won’t come soon enough to suit me.”

Hestophes laughed. “Spring will be here soon enough, dragging the war behind Leukos, the Sun God’s, arse.”

Mnestros laughed. “That’s why we need to have our plans in order before all the fireside generals and the other toothless warriors arrive to give us their sage advice.”

“Galzar forbid. I’ve been at many Councils of War, mostly at Tarr-Hostigos, and I’ve seen how well they run when Great King Kalvan has planned his agenda in advance. The League’s last Council of War was a disaster, with Princes threatening each other, declaiming treachery and the highpriests of Dralm making impossible demands. It’s the Allfather’s Own Miracle we fielded as many men as we did, and no wonder the battle of Agrys City was a disaster.”

“There is truth in all that you say, Baron Hestophes. This time it has already been agreed by the League that you will be Captain-General of the League of Dralm’s Army.”

“Yes, in principle,” Hestophes said.

Duke Mnestros replied, “It is up to us to make sure that it’s agreed to in fact. Only two-thirds of the kingdom’s princes even attended the last League Council; they will carry little weight with this one. The fact that King Kalvan is sending the League five thousand Royal soldiers is one fact that will be hard to discount.”

Hestophes nodded as he took out his tobacco pouch and began refilling his pipe. “It’s a good start, but we’re going to be needing another thirty to forty thousand troops if we plan to meet Soton in battle.”

Mnestros whistled sharply. “We would fare better in a face-off against the Union of Styphon’s Friends. With Great King Demistophon and Prince Vython dead, and their armies dispersed or destroyed, the Union of Styphon’s Friends will be hard-pressed to field more than sixteen thousand men.”

“Hmm,” Hestophes murmured. “How many men will the League be able to field?”

“Right now,” Mnestros replied, “my father has four thousand men in his muster book, including your thousand Hostigi already in Eubros, which would give us five thousand men. Prince Ptophlos of Orchon has promised another three thousand men and Prince of Zcynos another four thousand, if he keeps his sworn-word; however, he’s changed sides and may do so again, so let’s not count those duck eggs before they’ve hatched. Prince Kyphanes of Meligos will bring three thousand of his troops. When the Hostigi reinforcements arrive, we should be able to field as many men as the Union of Styphon’s Friends.”

“That’s all? That might be enough soldiers
if
all you had to face was the Union of Styphon’s Friends. But at some point, you are going to have to stop Soton’s Host of Styphon’s Deliverance.”

Mnestros shrugged. “You have to understand, Hos-Agrys has been at peace for a long time. We have had no need for large armies such as the ones Styphon’s House and Kalvan have fielded. How large were the armies in Hos-Harphax before Great King Kalvan arrived?”

“Before the Fireseed Wars, armies in Hos-Harphax averaged around three thousand men,” he replied. “Only the largest and most bellicose princedoms had larger standing armies. However, the Agrysi League of Dralm has had many winters to prepare for this war. Hasn’t anyone been paying attention to what Styphon’s House did to Hos-Hostigos? Or did your princes actually believe the war would end at the border of Hos-Hostigos?”

Mnestros looked pained. “I’ve done my damnedest to warn the princes numerous times that the Fireseed Wars might spill into our kingdom, but no one but my father has listened. Some branded me a warmonger or called me Kalvan’s lapdog. Even when the Grand Master entered our territory, the League’s princes wanted to believe that Soton was only besieging Agrys City to punish Great King Demistophon for not providing troops against Hos-Hostigos. Now, they’re afraid, but there’s no time to train the militias or raise their feudal levies.”

Hestophes banged his fist on the table in frustration. “I’ve talked until my throat hurts, trying to tell them the error of their ways. You’d better pray to Galzar that we can raise a lot more troops than that, or we’ll be fighting a rearguard action while Soton gobbles up princedoms and baronies like a mastiff eating table scraps.”

The young Duke visibly shuddered. “With what happened to Glarth Town last fall and the depredations of Arch-Butcher Roxthar, some of the Princes who were members of the Union of Styphon’s Friends may reconsider their loyalty to Styphon’s House.”

“Or, they may realize that they’re safer as the Temple’s allies than as its opponents.”

“We won’t know until we’ve approached them,” Mnestros said. “That will give me and my father something to do until spring.”

“If all the Agrysi princes demanded that their nobles call out their levies, they could raise another ten thousand to fifteen thousand men.”