"That's the right idea. The sooner the Styphoni are driven from Agrys City, the sooner we can be together."
FIFTY-THREE
Prince Phidestros watched as General Geblon, holding his banner, a gold thunderbolt breaking a black iron chain on a green field, approached the City Gates of Harphax City and drew within hailing distance. Phidestros was on horseback at the top of a ridge, in his new silvered parade armor, with five thousand horse behind him waiting to see if the Gates would open peacefully or remain closed. At the first sign of armed resistance, his orders were to pull back; he was determined that this was not going to turn into a siege. He had come to Harphax City to restore order at the invitation of the rightful Prince; not to fill the gutters with blood. Not that he cared about a little spilled blood, but Arminta had convinced him that his reputation would suffer unless his entrance was peaceful.
The City's fate was balanced on a knife edge. If they were refused entrance, the riots would continue until the bandits and minions of Yathar, the Death Bringer, ruled the streets. The Harphaxi City Watch had resigned en masse, claiming they weren't paid enough silver to die for their jobs. The pitiful remnant of the Royal Army that Lysandros had left behind had either deserted or barricaded themselves in their own barracks.
Suddenly the gates burst open and several hundred celebrants ran out to greet their liberators. He was glad he didn't have to hide the smile that broke out on his face.
"It looks like the Princess's groundwork opened the old lady's legs, Captain," General Kyblannos hooted.
Phidestros clapped him on the back and laughed out loud. The Princess had sent word to several of her fellow aristocrats to enlist their aid in putting their rightful King back on the Iron Throne. Two days earlier he'd sent Cythros, Captain of the Blue Company, into the City with his most trusted soldiers to secure Great Queen Lavena and Chancellor Lyphannes to ensure they survived the tumult as the Kingdom changed rulers. Lavena and the new baby would be useful in case anything happened to Selestros or he proved difficult to manage, while Lyphannes was necessary to ensure a smooth transition between rulers. He'd met the Chancellor before and knew he was amenable to bribery and intimidation; Phidestros would use whatever it took, even if it meant throwing Lyphannes to the mob as a symbol of Lysandros' oppression.
General Geblon returned with a delegation of city fathers, nobles, High Guildmasters, a Styphon's House Highpriest, a brace of magistrates, an Uncle Wolf whom he remembered from last year's campaign, and several wealthy merchants of note.
One notable Elder in magnificent robes of ermine and dark red velvet approached him, saying, "Welcome, Prince Phidestros, I am Head Elder Xenophrames. Your Highness, We, the Elders of the City of Harphax, welcome your return and your promise of order and stability. The City is yours and we have prepared a victory celebration to commemorate your great victory over the Usurper King Kalvan."
For a moment, Phidestros had thought the cat was out of the bag and the official was going to say Lysandros.
"Thank you, Your Honor. I give my personal oath as Prince of Greater Beshta that I will restore order to the streets of Harphax City. There will be a dawn-to-dusk curfew and anyone out after light has fallen will be put to the sword. Rioters and thieves will be beheaded. Rapists and murderers will be drawn and quartered."
The City Elders and merchants gave a collective sigh of relief.
"My men, except for those on watch duty, will be billeted in the Royal Army barracks in Tarr-Harphax. They will be given liberty every six days. My own Provost Marshal will be in charge of discipline."
The City Elders nodded in accord.
"Now, about this victory parade?"
That remark defused the tension and everyone laughed.
"Welcome to the City, Your Highness!"
The narrow streets and thoroughfares of Harphax City were filled to bursting with crowds of townspeople, guildsmen, merchants, stall-tenders as well as serfs and peasants from the surrounding towns and villages all dressed in their finest clothes. There was a festive air to the occasion and everywhere the Royal Flag of Hos-Harphax flew beside a white banner with the eight-pointed Blue Star of Dralm, which he supposed was the personal banner of Prince Selestros. Surprisingly, Phidestros' and the Iron Band's banner was also displayed openly throughout the City.
Even after reading the reports about the city-wide riots, he was surprised to see whole sections of the town burned right to their foundations; in some cases only a few blackened posts were left standing. On other streets, there were occasional storefronts or buildings burnt-out like blackened teeth in a beggar's smile. In the merchant's quarter there were armed guards before every store. It was almost as if he and the Iron Band were the returning force that had saved the city after a vicious sacking.
Everywhere he went he was greeted with roars of applause and cheers. More than once he heard the crowds chant "Phidestros the Great!" and knew that such words could easily cloud a man's mind to little else. Arminta had warned him about the heating of the blood that such chants could bring about, as well as the bad decisions they fed. His time would come.
"They love you, Captain," Kyblannos yelled into his ear. "By Galzar's Mace, we could take this City with two companies!"
Phidestros let his head fall back and he laughed uproariously. "Yes, for a fortnight, until I restrained their excesses and looting. Then the mob would change its mind and decide that I am Phidestros the Foul!"
"You are right about that, Captain. I remember, when I was with the Gold Eagle Company, we saved a coastal town in Glarth from sea raiders; after two days of leave they were ready to tar and feather the lot of us! I was thinking maybe the Iron Band should ransack this cursed place and leave the ruins to those down-in-the-mouth gentry behind us!"
"It's tempting, old friend," Phidestros said, as he turned to see the City Elders and their pinched faces. They didn't expect I'd get such a fine celebration, he thought. They're probably all scheming to see where their place will be in the new regime. I wonder in which direction they'll jump when King Lysandros returns with his army?
Of course, now that he and his wife were throwing their support behind Prince Selestros, if the meeting came off satisfactorily, then he would be the one who'd have to face Lysandros and the Royal Army. I'd like to muster these civilians into my Army and see just how much support they'd give me when I put a pike or musket into their arms!
He suspected they'd desert in droves.
At last they reached the Royal Palace and the victory parade came to an end as Phidestros was escorted into the private audience chamber to meet with Prince Selestros, the former King of Concubines. It was the first time Phidestros had ever seen the Prince sober and clear-eyed; he was surprisingly handsome and young in appearance, except for his deep blue-gray eyes, which contained the depths of the Great Ocean.
The Prince approached him with open palms.
He laid his hands on the Prince's and said, "Well met, Your Highness."
"Likewise, Your Highness," Selestros returned.
The only other person in the room was Chancellor Lyphannes, who looked like a cat who'd just bitten the head off a songbird.
"Where is Great Queen Lavena?"
Selestros nodded and Kyphannes spoke, "She is secured in one of the upper chambers under guard, as you requested, Your Highness."
Actually, he hadn't requested that exactly, but had demanded her protection as one of his conditions for supporting Selestros' bid to become Great King. Also, as a Prince Elector of Hos-Harphax, he was guaranteed one vote for the next Great King.
"Good." Phidestros said. "Now, Your Highness, let me be direct: what can you grant me to guarantee my loyalty to you as Great King of Hos-Harphax? I have been granted lands and a title by your Uncle and have given him my sworn oath of fealty."