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Authors: John F. Carr

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BOOK: Gunpowder God
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He hated to make such a large detour, but unless they had more food he might as well turn back and let the Usurper Kalvan kill them all.

“They found a man…” Demnos paused to shake his head and clear his throat from the dust of the road. “I guess you would say he was
still
a man.”

“Good. We need to learn more about the defenses of Kyblos Town. We cannot afford a long siege.”

Demnos coughed behind his hand. “Truer words were never said, Your Majesty.”

Shortly an old man was brought up by horseback by two scouts. As he drew closer, Lysandros realized that he could be any age. His hair had all fallen out and his body was a scrawny bag of bones that looked as if he had been exhumed from a graveyard. As he drew closer, Lysandros could see that his clothes were nothing but a few wisps of rags; his ribs stood out like those of a starving cow. The man’s facial features were pulled back tightly against his skull. His teeth were gone and his skin clung to his bony frame much like the shrunken rawhide that was used to repair broken wagon wheels.

“By Ormaz’s Skull! Does he have the plague?” were the first words out of Lysandros’ mouth.

“No, Your Majesty,” one of the scouts said.

The man tried to speak but his words came out in a croak. “Give him some water,” Lysandros ordered.

He took to the water like a fish, and his men had to keep him from gulping it and getting sick. They waited almost a quarter candle for him to drink slowly and gum some fresh bread.

When he was able to speak, Lysandros asked, “What happened here?”

“After the Siege most of the people,” he mumbled, “the smart ones, that is, left with Great King Kalvan. The rest crowded behind the walls of Kyblos Town when the Arch-Devil Roxthar and his murderers took over the countryside….”

The man paused to catch his breath. “They didn’t have the guns or the forces to breach our walls, but ate everything edible outside the walls like locusts and burned anything they couldn’t take with them. Most of the army left with Great King Kalvan to only the gods know where, so there weren’t enough men for Baron Marcestros to take into the field….”

He paused again to stuff his mouth before continuing. “There wasn’t much food left in the town and no fall harvest. The winter was very hard and most of the people died from starvation or the cold. There were riots and fighting when the rich merchants and nobles tried to keep more than their share of the food. Baron Marcestros was killed in the fighting; the survivors fled the town when the roads thawed. Now Kyblos Town is abandoned and the only people remaining are the dead.”

“Dralm-damn Roxthar and his cursed Investigation!” Lysandros cried. “If I ever run across that madman again, I will personally see he has an escort to Regwarn’s Caverns.”

“What shall we do, now, Your Majesty?” Demnos asked.

“Go forward. Maybe we can find some food in Sask or Hostigos.”

“What about him?” Demnos asked, pointing to the living skeleton who was slumped over a horse.

Lysandros pulled a hide-away pistol out of his sash and shot the man in the head. “We have no victuals to spare for prisoners,” he said. The man keeled off his horse and struck the hard ground with a soft thud.

III

“You must leave soon, my husband,” Princess Arminta said, as though the words were torn from her heart.

“It distresses me to leave before the baby comes,” Phidestros replied. Truly—had he believed in any of the twelve True Gods he would have sworn in their names. She was in good hands; the midwife in charge had helped give birth to many babies, almost as many babies as there were men in the Iron Company. Still, it rankled him not to be there when
his
child arrived new to the world.

Arminta giggled. “The baby will wait until you return; I’m only seven moons along. I would not have it any other way, Praise Yirtta Allmother.”

“I would have never known from looking! Already you are big enough for twins,” he joked.

She laughed, cradling her swollen belly.

His chest filled to the bursting with love. Phidestros had never felt anything like it before—sure he’d felt pride in his soldiers and in the Iron Band—but not love like this. Love so strong that it hurt like a chest wound. Some claimed such heart love could weaken a man; however, in his case, it only made him more determined to return with King Lysandros’ head in his possession.

“The Great King Lysandros and his army must have already reached Kyblos Town,” Arminta observed. “I know you want to meet them in a place of your choosing, rather than the Great King’s.”

He nodded. “I suspect they will take the Akyros Road through Kyblos and Sask, rather than the Nyklos Trail.”

“Why is that, my love?”

“When Kalvan fled Hostigos Town, he left by the Nyklos Trail and ordered his men to burn everything in their path, from the fields to the towns. It may be the shortest route to Harphax City, but the land is as barren as the Great Desert. Lysandros will need food for his men and fodder for his horses; there will be little of either along the Nyklos Trail. This he will know from firsthand experience as that is the route the Grand Host took when we chased after Kalvan.”

“Why didn’t the Usurper take the Akyros Road?” she asked.

“To reach the Akyros Road, Kalvan would have had to fight his way through the Grand Host. From Hostigos Town, the Nyklos Trail was his only route into the western princedoms.”

Arminta nodded. “How did Sask fare during the despoiling of the False Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos?”

Phidestros paused to bring out his pipe. “Not very well, my love. Roxthar and his henchmen investigated most of the Saski right into Regwarn’s Caverns. When they ran out of peasants to torture, the Investigators and Temple Guard looted the towns and villages and burned most of the homes and farms. Most of the Saski farmers and townsmen fled, joining King Kalvan’s Exile, before Roxthar’s arrival. Few of those who remained in Sask survived the Investigation, primarily the old and infirm. I doubt that there will be much left in Sask for Lysandros’ use, despite Geblon’s attempt to bring in more peasants.”

Arminta nodded. “Geblon wasn’t there long enough to get very much accomplished. That is good for you, my husband. Lysandros’ army will arrive tired and weakened by hunger.”

Phidestros smiled, showing his teeth in the flickering candlelight. “That is why we will leave Tarr-Harphax in the morning. I would like to have time to rest my troops before we attack the King’s army. We will also be able to pick the battlefield. Lysandros will have to follow the Akyros Road into Sask, where there is no food and very little forage for his horses and oxen.”

“From what you’ve been saying, that path will spell doom for Lysandros.”

“No battle is won until the fireseed smoke settles, but I would not want to put my feet in Lysandros’ boots.”

He noticed a pensive expression upon his wife’s countenance. “What’s the matter, my love? Do you still have concerns regarding your cousin’s health?

Arminta shook her head. “By the Allfather, no. Lysandros is a blackguard and parricide. He deserves Galzar’s Judgment. It is the common soldiers I worry about. Many of them will die for the sin of being under his command.”

“I will offer them amnesty. Many of them fought under my colors at the Battle of Ardros Field, where we defeated Kalvan. It would be fitting if many of them retired from his command before the first shot rang out.”

“Remember those parchments that Kalvan’s men posted about sparing all deserters and welcoming them into his ranks?”

“Yes, Kalvan has used that trick several times,” Phidestros said. “It worked very well at Chothros Heights.”

“You should do likewise, my love. It might be a good idea to have notices made informing them they are under the command of a man who murdered his own brother and rightful Great King; thus they are therefore free from any oaths or fealty and are lawfully able to leave his ranks. Have the scouting parties take some of these notices and post them on trees and buildings where Lysandros’ men will see them. I know most of them do not read, but those who do will spread the news.”

“Like wildfire,” he said, nodding his accord.

“Also, inform them of Galzar’s Ban on the Army of Hos-Harphax; many still do not know of the Ban. This will cause considerable dissention and much desertion, especially after the Uncle Wolfs depart. Grant any soldiers who do desert from Lysandros’ ranks a pardon and the opportunity to join the
real
Harphaxi Army.”

Phidestros took his pipe from his mouth and knocked the barrel against his palm. “Yes, Selestros will need an army, but not a very good one. At least as far as our interests are concerned. Deserters will do him well. I am not anxious to fight men I recently commanded. It would be fitting if we could defeat Lysandros without spilling anyone’s blood but his own.”

Arminta nodded. “Yes, but most importantly, you need to bring his head back to impale it upon the Harphax City Gates. Otherwise, there will be rumors that he is still alive and in hiding.”

Phidestros nodded. “That is good advice, my darling. What do you think we should do with Queen Lavena before we leave for Besh Town?”

“Will she be safe here?”

“I’m leaving ten companies of the Iron Band and two thousand Beshtan regulars under Geblon to guarantee the peace. But I’m not sure what we’ll do with her after Lysandros has been killed.”

“Despite all his cant about the Allfather, Great King-Elect Selestros is a closed scroll. I don’t believe he’d harm the Queen, but…?”

“I was thinking that it might be better if we took her to Besh Town and gave her a home there.”

Arminta’s forehead furrowed. “I do not want her in Besh Town. She’ll be both a tempting target for our enemies, and a rallying point for Great King Lysandros’ supporters. Furthermore, if she stays here after Lysandros is deposed, she’ll be a tethered lamb for those who might want to impress the new king.”

Phidestros nodded. “Wise words, my love. We will leave her here in Harphax City under heavy guard, that way her problems remain here instead of with us. If Captain-General Geblon cannot guarantee her safety, no one else can.”

Arminta was visibly relieved. Phidestros understood why: Lavena was a temptress and would always be drawn to the most powerful man in any room. He found her childish, willful and spoiled. A perfect match for Lysandros, but not the woman he wanted to bear his children.

“What about the Lady Sirna?” she asked, with a spark in her eye. “She will not be safe here in Harphax City, either.”

Phidestros kept his expression immobile. “Let her stay with the Queen, or she can return to Grefftscharr, if she wishes. It’s not my concern.”

Arminta smiled. “Yes, let her share Queen Lavena’s fate.”

He all but sighed in relief, having navigated that shoal without foundering.

Then with worry lines creasing her forehead, Arminta added, “Maybe we ought to leave Captain Lythrax to protect the Queen. I always feel safe when he is about.”

Lythrax and Arminta’s strange bond was something that only Lyklos, the Trickster and Lord of Lies, could have conjured up, he decided. Lythrax was a cold-blooded murderer, there were no words that could pretty up his character; that’s what he was. Phidestros had found him useful whenever there was a particularly nasty job that had to be done, torture, killing, sniping, even murdering innocent civilians. Anything was fair game. It wasn’t that Captain Lythrax gained pleasure from killing; Phidestros had seen many who shared that curse. No, it was that killing to him was just a job, a job he was particularly skilled at doing, much like a butcher.

For some inexplicable reason, Lythrax had become very protective of Arminta when word was announced that she was with child. He became solicitous of her health and begged to be made her personal guard. At first, Phidestros had been dumbfounded. He didn’t want to insult Lythrax by denying him the position, but he did not trust the man around his new wife. Not until she demanded Lythrax as her chief guard.

Phidestros had attempted to explain the man’s nature, even comparing him to a deadly viper. But she saw something deep inside the man that no one else ever had. Eventually, their entreaties wore him down and he made Lythrax captain of Arminta’s personal bodyguard. Now that Phidestros was accustomed to his presence, even he had to admit he felt safer when Lythrax was on guard.

“Darling, Lythrax would stay and guard Queen Lavena, but only if you personally made the request. However, he would not be happy and, while he would do the best job he could, his heart would be elsewhere. Furthermore, he would drive us both crazy with his entreaties to return to Besh Town.”

Arminta nodded. “You are right, husband. I suspect Queen Lavena would not appreciate his loyalty. She is too frivolous with the hearts of others.”

SEVEN
I

C
aptain-General Petrus wondered just what would greet him when he arrived in King Theovacar’s throne room. The King had been ranting and raving like a madman ever since King Kalvan’s army had taken Greffa, the jewel of Grefftscharr, and added it to the Kingdom of Nos-Hostigos. Theovacar had always been secretive and suspicious, but now his paranoia had grown ten-fold. Several important nobles, who had ties to the newly enthroned Verkan, had been dismissed as traitors, others beheaded as intelligencers. All of Ult-Greffa’s upper classes were on edge, wondering when they too would be accused of plotting against the Trone.

Fortunately, Petrus had never met the traitor Verkan and could not be accused of complicity in his take-over of Greffa. From what he’d learned, it appeared that the City nobles, under the sway of Duke Ruffulo, had surrendered the Greffa City for terms favorable to themselves and their faction. It was even whispered in the alehouses that the entire City had gone over to the Hostigi so as to escape Theovacar’s iron hand.

Petrus had been in disfavor as soon as it was learned that his brother Errox had been recruited as one of Kalvan’s generals. If it wasn’t for the army’s lack of good commanders, Petrus suspected he might have been dismissed, or beheaded several moons ago. He was beginning to realize that his brother might have taken the wisest course by joining forces with Kalvan, who was known to be a wise leader and a ruler of solid temperament and good humor. However, Errox was unmarried and didn’t have the large family that had kept Petrus tied to his post in Greffa for so many years.

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