Prince Sarrask of Sask, with a look of concern on his face, came up from behind Prince Kestophes, reached up and grabbed his hand hard, pulling the Prince off his horse. While Sarrask still had a small load on his porch, the last few years had really built him up and he'd been a strong man to begin with. Sarrask held Kestophes, whose mouth was open in an 0 of shock, upright and whispered something into his ear that turned the Princes face bright red.
Kalvan moved up to make sure the hand that was behind Kestophes held nothing more than his wrist. He was pleased to note that Sarrask's ornate dagger was still sheathed.
"Prince Kestophes, it gives me no pleasure to burn my subjects' fields and homes. However, our foe has left us no choice. It has come down to a war between the False God Styphon and the Twelve True Gods. Blame Styphon's House, if you need to blame anyone."
"Yes, Your Majesty, "Kestophes mumbled, as though he were thoroughly cowed; however, his eyes would not meet Kalvan's.
"You are dismissed."
The Prince shook off Sarrask's grip and quickly re-mounted his horse. While leaving, he gave Sarrask a hard look and rode away. Kalvan went over to Sarrask and put his arms over the Prince's shoulders. "Just what was it you whispered in Kestophes' ear?"
Sarrask's broad face broke out into a smile. "I told him that if he showed his Great King any more disrespect, I'd personally geld him in front of the entire Army. I guess he believed me."
Kalvan couldn't think of the words to explain to Sarrask how his threat had made a mockery of Kalvan's speech. Sarrask was as loyal as his old German Shepherd had been, and just about as dangerous when aroused. And in some ways just as dim. Some people, just like animals, you just had to accept for what they were; such as Sarrask, a loyal-to-the-death Prince with a low IQ, but with the fighting prowess of a one-man Panzer tank.
"Do you want me to talk to him some more, Sire?" Sarrask asked, as if on some level he realized he'd made a bad judgment call, but ready to pay for it with his life-if necessary.
"No, my friend. You've done enough."
Sarrask beamed; if he were a puppy his tail would have been wagging. He motioned General Klestreus, Chief of Internal Security, to his side. "Your Majesty?"
"I want you to put a guard day and night on Prince Kestophes." "About time, Sire." The barrel-shaped Klestreus always beamed when someone else was in trouble.
Prince Kestophes entered the temporary throne room trailed by Chartiphon and General Klestreus. The Prince's face was no longer bandaged, but he had a red furrow that went from his forehead, down along the hairline and across his cheek, to his chin.
Kestophes approached the Fireseed Throne and went down on one knee. "Your Majesty, I'm hearing angry words from my subjects regarding the confiscations you have ordered in Ulthor Port."
The Prince's tone was loud, bordering on insubordination; Kalvan had to bottle his own immediate response. All his courtiers turned serious and even Chartiphon gripped the hilt of his sword.
"Is it right that orphans and widows live in the gutters in the freezing rain and wind? No, We declare it is not right. Therefore, we have confiscated all of the large estates and houses in the Port."
"Yes, Sire, but your men are tearing their homes down! All my nobles and great merchants are outraged."
Kalvan leaned back in his throne and took out his pipe. After loading the bowl with fresh tobacco, he used a flint and steel to light his tinder box with enhanced tinder, a mix of amadou, a fungus that grows on decaying trees, and saltpeter. He then used a burning splinter to fire his pipe. It was cold and damp enough in their temporary quarters that the usual straw and saltpeter mix wouldn't easily catch fire from sparking flint. Note: find a good source of phosphorus for slow matches.
After releasing a small cloud of smoke, Kalvan said, "Prince Kestophes, you are trying Our patience. Would you rather have small children dying in the streets, or a few barons and counts discomforted?"
"There are too many migrants. We do not have room for this influx-"
"ENOUGH! I will hear no more. If any of Our nobles continue to complain, have them see Ourselves. Then they will learn exactly what loss means."
Kestophes rose up, his face pale. "May I be dismissed?"
"No. I have one more request. We will be relocating Our headquarters to your palace. Is this going to be a problem?"
Kestophes blanched. "No, Your Majesty. But why?"
"We have stayed here in Ulthor longer than We originally intended due to the lack of pursuit by the Grand Host of Styphon. For reasons not clear to Us, the Styphoni have delayed their departure from Hostigos Town and provided Us with a temporary respite to rest our people and prepare for Our exodus."
The Prince nodded warily. "All these things are true, but would it not be wiser to leave now and gain many marches upon the Host?"
"Not if We do not have a place to go. I have sent an ambassador to the Nythros City States to confer with their Vannax and Family of Five regarding ships to ferry Our people to a safe harbor. We are leading the greatest migration in the history of the Five Kingdoms and it would be folly to continue our march without a firm destination."
"Then, sire, you'll be leaving Ulthor soon?"
"As soon as we can find a safe destination and a way to it without stirring up new enemies."
"What will happen to Ulthor Port upon your leaving?" Kestophes asked, his eyes watchful.
"It is too early to determine," Kalvan answered, knowing full well the answer. After Kestophes was dismissed, Kalvan turned to his Chief of Intelligence.
"You're right not to trust him, Your Majesty," General Klestreus said. "We have no evidence that he has consorted with the godless Styphoni, but he is openly unhappy with our arrival in Ulthor and this has helped to breed discontent among his subjects."
"Kestophes is going to be even more unhappy after Rylla and I move into his palace. Allow him to sequester one of his nobles' manors; let it be his choice. This will not gain him any friends. Make sure his new quarters are secure, but not under obvious guard."
Klestreus nodded.
"Now, notify the Great Queen of this so she can begin to gather her things. She will be very pleased; she's lobbied for this course of action for a moon quarter."
II
Archpriest Anaxthenes looked with favor upon his fellow band of conspirators. Despite some setbacks and the insufferable meddling of Archpriest Roxthar, they had come a long way from the days of meeting in graveyards and under the ruins of the old Temple of Dralm. Soon they would be elevated out of the basement to rule as the predominant faction of the Inner Circle. Today they were assembled in his own private chambers at the Great Temple of Styphon with no fear of agents-inquisitory, intelligencers or Styphon's Own Guard breaking down the door. As the First Speaker, Anaxthenes was acting Styphon's Voice and shortly he would be wearing the red robe of primacy; that is, as soon as all the Electors of the Inner Circle arrived in Balph.
The most delicious irony of all was that Archpriest Roxthar would be the last to know that Anaxthenes had fixed the Election. He was looking forward to watching Roxthar rant and rave as his appointment was confirmed by the College of Electors-he imagined the Investigator foaming at the mouth and turning apoplectic. How long have I suffered this madman's insolence? Well, it won't be for much longer.
"Is everyone here?" he asked.
"Yes, Your Eminence," Archpriest Neamenestros answered. He was an old friend and for many winters had been the bedrock of Anaxthenes' support within the Inner Circle. Neamenestros would make a good First Speaker after his Election to Styphon's Voice. If I even need a Speaker.
"Good. I called this meeting to discuss what best to do with the Grand Host of Styphon now that Hos-Hostigos has been conquered. Any suggestions, Archpriest Grythos?" Grythos was one of the newest members of the cabal and the only one with military experience. After more than two decades of service, he had retired with distinction as Knight Commander from the Order of Zarthani Knights.