Sirna shook her head; she needed all her wits to be focused.
"This is not about you at all, Lady Sirna, but about one of your compatriots at the Foundry."
"Who?" she asked, hoping that Aranth had not given her up.
"I just met with a Captain Ranthos, who claims that he was a guard at the Royal Foundry of Hos-Hostigos. He served there, if he is to be believed, under the name of Captain Aranth. He has a shaved head and wears a large mustache. What do you know of him?"
Sirna felt herself relax, exhaling the deep breath she'd been holding. "There was a Grefftscharrer Captain with the name of Aranth, who was one of the Foundry Guard captains and matches your description. He was also quite helpful in the Foundry and seemed to know a lot about artillery guns. It was his responsibility to test-fire the newly cast cannon. At the foundry, he had a full head of hair, but it might have been a wig. There was some talk that he had been picked by the King because he was knowledgeable on such subjects, maybe a former artillery officer. I understood him to be a reliable guard and not an oath-breaker."
Phidestros nodded, as if her words confirmed his own thoughts. "Do you know how he escaped the Foundry sacking?"
"Yes, I believe it was Aranth I heard slip out the back door of the former farmhouse we used as our common area and sleeping quarters. He left after the Red Hand blew open the doors and came in shooting. I was surprised that he would escape without giving warning to the rest of us, but he obviously had more experience in those matters than myself. Now, having seen the Investigation at work, I believe he did the prudent thing."
Phidestros gave her a mocking grin. "But not the gallant thing, My Lady?"
This time she refused to let herself blush. "No," she said, "I do not think many men would leave their comrades behind, while they alone escaped. Although, in Aranth's defense, he was not treated as an equal by the Foundry Masters. They may have been Masters at casting and making guns, but they were fools when it came to the world of war and being men."
This time Phidestros did all those pipe-filling and flint-lighting things that all the men she knew on Aryan-Transpacific did when they wanted to gnaw over a line of thought without being obvious about it. Meanwhile, she waited patiently. Maybe I should take up knitting?
"It's too bad he didn't take time to save some of these Masters-I could use them now. However, thanks to your words, I believe I have a better measure of the man, and for that, I thank you, Lady Sirna."
She felt like standing up and curtsying, but instead she said, "You're welcome, Captain-General. Do you have any idea as to how much longer we're going to be cooped up in this place?"
Phidestros shook his head. "No, it's a Dralm-blasted curse that we're still here! But, without a single leader, there is no one man in charge of the Host."
"I thought Great King Lysandros was the head of the Grand Host."
"True, he created it and claims it's his to command. However, it's not that simple. Styphon's House pays the bills, which leaves Grand Master Soton as co-commander. Lysandros can make decisions, but without Soton's and Styphon's House approval they may not be funded or obeyed. Since Lord High Marshal Zythannes, commander of the Ktemnoi Sacred Squares, was killed in battle along with his successor Prince Leonnestros, Prince Anaxon is now in charge of the Ktemoni troops. He's in favor of disbanding the Grand Host, or at least the Ktemnoi contingent. Were it not for the Grand Master's intransigence on the subject, Anaxon would already have departed. Presently, the Prince is awaiting further orders from Great King Cleitharses."
"Ohhh. I didn't think it was that complicated."
"Oh yes, My Lady, it is-and it gets worse. Great King Lysandros, by virtue of the fact he is Great King of Hos-Harphax-the Kingdom most harmed by the Usurper Kalvan-believes he should solely command the Grand Host. Of course, it doesn't appear to matter to him that he's never commanded an army this large or fought against Kalvan, who has advanced the arts of war more than any man since King Simocles of legend.
"Meanwhile, it is Styphon's paychests that are paying our salaries and providing all our supplies and fireseed. The Archpriest Roxthar-due to Styphon's Own Call (which only he has heard, by the way)-believes he should be put in sole command to do Styphon's Will, as he puts it. Of course, he has neither military experience or proven leadership qualities. In the meantime, he wants to Investigate every Hostigi in Hos-Hostigos to see if they still believe in All-Father Dralm. However, when those who clearly do not-mostly knaves and cutthroats-tell him they do not, he doesn't believe them and is well on his way to completely depopulating the entire Kingdom!
"Lysandros, who should care, doesn't. He's either too involved in his own machinations, or is just too frightened of Roxthar-and who can blame him, if he is?-to stop this madman before he kills every Hostigi within three hundred marches. On the other hand, Grand Master Soton, who does care, acts as if he doesn't, for some deep purpose of his own or the Inner Circle's.
"Meanwhile, as Lysandros' handpicked commander, I spend my time smoking and drinking Ermut's Best in a bordello, wondering if and when I'll ever be allowed to do the job I'm being paid to do: Which is, quite simply, find Kalvan, force him to fight and then destroy him and all his armies."
"That was very clear and concise," she replied, wishing some of her professors at Dhergabar University had been able to sketch their lessons half so well.
"Thank you, Sirna. What bothers me most, and what these fools don't seem to realize-or care about-is that the more time we give Kalvan to escape and reorganize his army, the tougher he's going to be to stop. If I had it to do over, I would have put a muzzle on Lysandros, left Soton to his care and chased Kalvan straight to the Saltless Seas. I could have done it, but I wanted to please my liege lord."
"Now, I'm so disgusted with what's going on that all I want to do is leave and go home to rebuild my new Princedom. Styphon only knows what damage has been done while I've been playing mother hen to Lysandros and Archpriest Roxthar and all the rest."
Phidestros wasn't the only one cast adrift here in the ruins of Hostigos Town. Only Dralm knew how many years she might be left to her own wits before she was rescued by the Paratime Police. Or abandoned forever when some crisis pulled their attention from this time-line. She had gone missing during a vicious war and might well be considered dead; maybe it wasn't so bad to have an outtime lover and protector, after all.
"I'll have a cup of Ermut's Best, after all," she said.
Phidestros looked at her in surprise, then smiled. He picked up a golden goblet and started to fill it himself.
SIX
Kalvan stood at the edge of the western pier running out of the Great Wharf and watched the comings and goings of galleys, boats, schooners, pinnaces and barges in and out of the Ulthor docks. A busy harbor in ordinary times, Ulthor Port had been in a flurry of activity since the advance elements of the Army of Hostigos had reached Ulthor. There were boats bringing in supplies and food stocks. Others had come in hopes they could sell passage to the more desperate Hostigi emigres. Kalvan was hoping that Trader Tortha would soon be disembarking from one of the ships; it had been several moons since he and Prince Phrames had left for Greffa to seek an audience with King Theovacar. He was anxious to hear what they had learned. Time was growing short.
Many of the large boats were coastal galleys and galleasses, galleys with sails. The Saltless Seas (Great Lakes) boats did not need a lot of endurance; you could always paddle to shore if becalmed. But they did need strong hulls because of ice. They also had a constant battle with the lee shores. There was a need for a sailing rig that could sail into the wind quite well and on which sail could be dropped in a hurry if a storm came up suddenly, as they frequently did. So it was no surprise that the rest of the boats were gaff-rigged schooners, mostly trading vessels or fishing boats.