"Dalzar," Verkan continued, "I want you to continue protecting Queen Rylla. I know it's a difficult assignment and you've been on this assignment for almost three years, but you've got a good cover and the Queen trusts you. In a sense, you've made yourself irreplaceable."
"Thanks, Chief. I was hoping for some down time." Dalzar didn't appear that unhappy to Maldar. He wondered if Dalzar had found some outtimer to soothe away his off-duty hours; if so, he wouldn't be the first.
"Soran, I want you to go to Nythros and establish yourself as a free trader, looking for goods. Rumor around the palace has it that Kalvan's been spending a lot of time learning Urgothi and has a meeting scheduled with the Nythrosi ambassador. You'll also be in a good position to do some reconnaissance if the Hostigi or the Grand Host reach Rathon City"-Verkan paused as he accessed his memory-"or what Kalvan would call Columbus, Ohio. Your Urgothi cover name will be Survan."
The tall Paracop with a short beard nodded. It appeared that this wasn't news to him.
"Kostran, tell Dalzar what you've heard at Theovacar's court."
"As you'd expect," Kostran started, "there are a lot of silly rumors floating around. The big one is that Kalvan is going to invade Greffa-as if he needs that kind of trouble! However, there are also some rumors that make a lot of sense. Another is that Kalvan's trying to find an ally so he can move into one of the weaker states in the Upper Middle Kingdoms. Everyone knows that even the Hostigi scullery maids were smart enough to leave Hos-Hostigos. Right now the Nythros City States is in the middle of a trade war with Greffa and would aid Styphon himself for the right price. Nythros is a merchant-run state and the Family of Five, the ruling autocrats, are looking for ways to hit the Grefftscharri where it hurts.
"From what I've overheard," Kostran continued, "Kalvan is not too hopeful about getting any aid from King Theovacar and is looking for other allies. He's had all the Ulthori mapmakers and sea merchants meet with the Royal Office of Cartography to critique detailed maps his cartographers are making of the area, especially Thagnor. Kalvan's also been spending a lot of time with the new Royal Shipwrights Guild; he has them building what he calls 'gunboats'-small rowboats-too big for dinghies and too small for schooners or galleys. Actually, they're mobile gun platforms, big enough to hold a four- or six-pound gun.
"My guess is that Kalvan is going to exploit Prince Varrack's poor leadership and maybe try to leverage him out and move into Thagnor himself. It's in a good location-at Bongaran Equivalent, the Europo-American Equivalent of Detroit, which Kalvan is familiar with, as he had an aunt who used to live in Dearborn. Thagnor also controls the passage between Lake Huron and Lake Erie. It owns the salt mines of Detroit and claims Gytha, Windsor, Ontario, as a vassal. Gytha's semi-independent, but is tied by marriage to Morthron, Greffa and Hos-Agrys, which means that Prince Varrack's claims are in open dispute."
"Good work," Verkan said. "In the last message ball from former Chief Tortha, he said his meeting with King Theovacar went out the air-hole. If not an enemy in name, the King is definitely not an ally. Kalvan will find no help from that quarter. Tortha thinks that Theovacar would like to see the Hostigi run through the meat-grinder of the Grand Host one more time, or how ever many it takes to turn them into sausage. Nobody in the Upper Middle Kingdoms wants Kalvan and his subjects to settle anywhere close."
Maldar nodded. He could understand their reluctance; Kalvan was at best a nuisance, at worst a complete disaster. His infantry alone had more firearms than the combined arsenals of all the Middle Kingdoms!
"Maldar," Verkan said, "I want you to act as our roving agent in Hos-Harphax and Hos-Agrys. Your new Zarthani name will be Maldros. I've got the Harphaxi Study Team working up a cover as an out-of-work mercenary captain who heads their security force. I'll give you some good men, including my minder Dalon Sath, to work as your petty-captains-or what we would call sergeants. I want you to recruit some local talent in Harphax City, and do it fast before things get hot and everyone who can buckle on a sword is employed. Later, next spring we may have you going into Hos-Agrys as a mercenary captain."
"Yes, sir," Maldar said, trying to hide his disappointment. He'd wanted the Kalvan assignment in Thagnor City as he figured that was where all the action was going to be.
As though reading his mind, Verkan added, "Don't be disappointed, Agent Maldar. Archpriest Danthor contacted our Balph Study Team and told our agent-in-charge that the Inner Circle under Styphon's Voice Anaxthenes-as soon as he's Elected-is going to order Grand Master Soton to besiege Agrys City, sack the place, kill Great King Demistophon and put in his place a Styphon's House puppet regime.
"Frankly, that's not going to be as easy as those Inner Circle armchair strategists believe. Not that Demistophon is any great shakes as either a leader or military expert. In fact, he's anything but. However, there are a lot of Agrysi Princes who've been sitting on the sidelines of the Fireseed Wars spoiling for a fight. Now Styphon's House is about to bring the fight right onto their own front porch. It should be interesting."
Maldar smiled. This is more like it. Captain Maldros, I like it!
"Okay men, I want you to head out now. Altarn and Vordran, you two stay here; we're going to discuss this 'internal problem' we're facing and just how we're going to fix it."
II
Prince Sthentros of Hostigos stuck his head out of the carriage window as they rode through the Hostigos Gap and looked up at the ravaged ruins of Tarr-Hostigos. It was as if Galzar's fist had come down from his Sky-Palace and smashed the castle flat! It would be Styphon's Own Miracle if the tarr was rebuilt during his lifetime. A black raven looked up from the desiccated corpse it was feeding on at the side of the road and peered into his eyes. He hastily made a pair of horns with his fists to ward off evil demons. Chunks of stone, rubble, battered armor and cracked skulls littered the highway on both sides of the road. The air still held the stench of death forcing him to put his pomade under his nose to keep from retching.
Their entire passage through Hos-Hostigos had been a nightmare. Nostor had been reduced to ruins and burned down farms, with blackened skeletons by the roadside. Nothing alive but ravens, vultures and always the wolves-brave enough now to nip at the sides of the stagecoach, frightening the horses. The entire kingdom resembled an old battlefield covered with broken bones and rusted armor.
The only subjects were those manning the rest stops, a few Temple Guardsmen and some beaten-down peasants. The farms, when not demolished and looted, were vacant with fields trampled down to the nub. The villages were in ruins and the towns were leveled to the ground. Styphon's sign-the red sun-wheel-was painted on every standing wall and building. Several times they had been stopped by squads of Investigators and they had been interrogated and treated like unwelcome guests.
Were it not for Lysandros' seal on his letter, Sthentros doubted they would have arrived at all. He'd seen the avaricious looks aimed at his princely garments and the appraisal done by knowing eyes.
This madman Roxthar must be stopped before I have nothing left, he told himself.
As they drove through the outskirts of Hostigos Town, he was appalled by the sights that met his eyes. He had hoped beyond reason that the Styphoni had left his future seat intact. Even carrion birds keep their nests dean, he thought. However, the farms they passed were knocked down or burnt, their fields left untended with crops ridden into the ground. He prayed that things would improve when they reached Hostigos Town proper.
As the carriage entered the town, he saw it was not to be. Many of the buildings were still standing, but most of the facades had been stripped of wood to fuel the Grand Host's insatiable appetite for firewood. As the coach drove through the streets, he saw work parties disassembling houses and stores, throwing lumber on huge wagons and carts. At this rate, all of Hostigos Town will be stripped to its foundation within a moon!, he railed to himself. He wanted to stick his head out the window and order these varlets to stop pillaging his town, but he was afraid of these wild-eyed soldiers who'd feasted on Hostigos' bones for moons. They looked more like bandits than soldiers to his eyes.