"How can you further my position in Greater Beshta?"
"I can use my men to recruit all the former Hostigi soldiers left in Hos-Hostigos. As I'm sure you know, the entire populace is frightened near to death by this gods-cursed Investigation. As soon as we arrive, word will travel fast throughout the former princedoms of Hos-Hostigos and all the able-bodied men and women still remaining will speed to Beshta as iron filings to a magnet. By the time you return from your campaign, you will have hundreds, or even thousands, of new subjects who will die in your service to thwart the Unholy Investigator."
"Your words not only make sense but are music to my ears. If you can include a few mapmakers among my new subjects, there will be a big purse of gold for you. To ensure your loyalty, I will make you baron of any barony in the former Princedom of Sashta you choose to be your demesne."
Geblons mouth gaped.
Ranthos bowed. "Your Highness is most generous. Your wisdom and leadership are even greater than I had been led to believe." He quickly oath-bound himself to Phidestros in the name of Galzar Wolfhead, God of War and Judge of Princes.
Phidestros then swore Ranthos into the Beshtan Army as Grand-Captain.
Once the oath-swearing was done, Kyblannos tapped him on the shoulder. "There is much I want to ask this Greffan about Kalvans Foundry."
"You will have your candle, Kyblannos, after he has changed out of these garments. But, first, I have an assignment for our new Grand-Captain."
"Yes, Captain-General."
"As you've observed, the Investigation has killed many of our potential subjects; however, not all have been put to the question. Many have been sold into slavery and are bound for the slave markets in Hos-Harphax and Hos-Ktemnos."
The look on Ranthos face would have made a lesser man quake. "I know," he said through gritted teeth.
"Well, I think we can address at least this evil." Phidestros paused to spit on the floor. "I despise slavery in all of its guises. One of Kalvan's first acts as Great King was to outlaw it in Hos-Hostigos. I have always admired that as I have admired his highway and his mapmakers and farseers."
Ranthos nodded. "He was a good ruler."
"I agree." Both Geblon and Kyblannos paled.
"Still, he is my sworn enemy and I will do my duty to kill him to the best of my ability, even if it means his death by my own hand."
"Understood, Grand Captain-General."
"Five large parties of slaves have left Hostigos Town in last quarter-moon. As you know, they will be moving very slowly."
"Yes. I have seen slave trains before."
"Your first order is to ambush as many of these slave parties as you can catch up with and free all the slaves. They will be under your protection until they arrive in Beshta. There you will find farms and housing for them."
"What about the caravan drivers, guards and slave drivers?"
"Kill them all-and their masters. Let none live. Those who traffic in human flesh have no honor. Death is too good for them."
"With pleasure."
"Now, if you don't mind, please satisfy Kyblannos' questions about the Royal Foundry."
The Greffan bowed and followed behind the shorter but broader artillery general.
After they left the room, Geblon asked, "What if he's lying?"
"Kyblannos will know before an eighth of a candle. No one can dissemble about guns before our friend. No, Ranthos is our man. If I am wrong, it will be time for me to go before the Investigation for my usefulness as a commander of men is done."
Geblon made a circle over his breast. "Please, do not joke about the Investigation again, my Captain. I would rather face Kalvan's guns unarmed than go before Roxthar's butchers. May Galzar bless and protect us all."
II
Sirna was still clutching her heart when General Geblon sent one of the girls to fetch her to the Captain-General's private chamber. Had Aranth Sain-obviously undercover as some sort of military type-told Phidestros who she was? She'd almost fainted when she turned toward the door and saw Aranth enter the Gull's Nest. Fortunately, he was preoccupied, or so she'd thought, but with First Level recall he could have been studying her surreptitiously and she would have never known.
The last time she had seen Aranth, the Kalvan Study Team's Pre-mechanical Military authority, she had been eating dinner at the common table of the Royal Foundry quarters. Later that evening, when Styphon's Red Guard had attacked the Foundry, she'd heard him escape out the back door while the rest of the Team was butchered and she was knocked in the head and left for dead. While there was probably nothing Aranth could have done to help the others, his slipping out like a thief in the night had left a bad taste in her mouth.
Was Aranth a coward? He certainly didn't act like one. In fact, she had always found him to be brave and resourceful. Sirna knew he hadn't liked any of the other members of the Team, but she had believed they were friends. Maybe that was what hurt-that Aranth had left her without even a warning, or without trying to help her escape.
She wasn't even sure why she didn't want him to know that she was alive and living in the Gull's Nest. It wasn't because Aranth would have disapproved of her living conditions. They were both beyond Fourth Level superstitions and morality: the Home Time Line's outtime credo was: "Live well, and do whatever it takes to live long."
Maybe Aranth thought he could survive a lot longer without having her to care for? Somehow that idea didn't make her feel one whit better. Maybe worse, when Sirna considered what could have happened to her had the peasant who had discovered her body dumped her off with one of Roxthar's Investigation squads. Or had taken advantage of her helplessness.
She braced herself as she opened the door to the Captain-General's room.
Phidestros was seated at his makeshift desk with his boots resting on the desktop, smoking his pipe. Even in his relaxed state he radiated a sensation, like the purr of a well-maintained machine, that he could go into active motion at a moment's notice.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, Lady Sirna. Please close the door."
Does he want to make love or question me? she asked herself. Despite her resolve not to get involved with an outtimer, loneliness and mutual attraction had brought them together. It was nice, but lately she hadn't been getting enough sleep. His appetite was much greater than her own.
He must have read her expression, because Phidestros laughed, his mouth opening wide. "No, it's not what you think."
Sirna blushed. "How do you know what I think?"
"You're a very attractive Lady and I am not loathe to love-making during the day, but not while my men are awake. They sense what's going on, but prefer not to know it."
She blushed again.
Phidestros gave her a winning smile. "You've done Galzar proud as healer of my men. I owe you much for it-and not just gold. You're the best healer I've ever come across-and believe me I've known some quacks and leeches in my time! You are little sister to the Iron Band. The men of the Iron Band would rush to your aid on the slightest pretense. I prefer to maintain the fiction that we are just friends."
Now, it was his turn to redden.
She gave him a warm smile.
Phidestros nodded and paused to pick up his tobacco pouch and begin filling his pipe bowl, which had been carved into a representation of Galzar in what looked to be ivory or whale's tooth. She remembered from her briefing that scrimshaw pipes were very popular in Hos-Zygros. He looked into her eyes, saying, "I've been remiss, would you like a goblet of wine or Ermut's Best?"