The Fireseed Wars

Soton paused, releasing a lungful of smoke. "You might have something there, if the Investigator was as involved in plots and machinations as Great King Lysandros and Archpriest Anaxthenes. However, Roxthar is consumed with a righteous fire that he believes to be sparked by Styphon. Outwardly, he seeks no personal gain for himself, other than demonstrating moral superiority and the right to bend to his will all those less committed to his reforms"

"Roxthar is a man who inspires fear and a belief in demons in human form," Aristocles spat.

"Many Hostigi view him as such. Regardless, we still have to deal with his ardor."

"And the trail of dead bodies he leaves behind," finished Aristocles.

Soton put his pipe down and made to clear the air with his hands. "Fahhh! Enough of this talk; we have as much chance of changing Roxthar as we do of moving the moon from the sky. There are other political problems, too, starting with Great King Lysandros who believes it's his destiny to command the Grand Host of Styphon."

"Lysandros! Has he been sucking on Herons peace pipe again? Or is he another Ormaz-cursed mad dog we have to deal with?"

"No. He's a cur of another color-this one is green with envy of Captain-General Phidestros who's gotten the panther's share of glory for the conquest of Hos-Hostigos and the siege of Tarr-Hostigos."

Aristocles sucked in a big breath, then expelled it. "What? You were the one who commanded the troops at the Battle of Ardros Field, the one who laid out the siege and drove the Usurper out of his False Kingdom, so how does this upstart mercenary gain the credit?"

"Again, politics," Soton said, although he knew in his heart that Phidestros was in part responsible for the victory. Still, if the Inner Circle wanted to give him all the credit, who was he to protest? "If it hasn't sunk in, old son, the people of the Northern Kingdoms despise Styphon's House and anyone who is connected with it, be he priest, banker or soldier. The Order and the Inner Circle know whose hand was behind this victory; I don't care one whit if the rabble give it to Phidestros the Upstart."

"Still, it must rankle."

"True, it pains me, but I am a man of reason, not some beast chained to his emotions-like Roxthar or Lysandros. Great King Lysandros believes he needs to destroy King Kalvan himself-cut off the Usurper's head, by his own hand if possible, and bring it to his people. By doing thusly, he believes they will love him.

"Now, Roxthar has joined the chorus behind King Lysandros, telling one and all that he is the right leader to co-command the Host."

Aristocles laughed. "Aha! The Investigator still harbors hatred for Phidestros because he humiliated him in the Gull's Nest with some redheaded harlot."

"How did you hear about that?"

"On the Great King's Highway, we were met by a group of wounded soldiers returning home who regaled us with stories of Phidestros' heroism and how he was the only man in the Grand Host with the stones to spit into the Investigator's eye. They then told us this tale about Phidestros' bearding Roxthar that they, of course, in turn heard from someone else. Who knows if there's any truth to it or if it's a grog shop fantasy? By now it's on its way to becoming legend."

"The story is true," Soton said. "I talked to General Geblon and he told me the entire tale. He said the real story is that the girl was a wounded Hostigi healer who a farmer had brought into Hostigos Town and dropped off at the Gull's Nest seeking a reward. He got a few phenigs for his efforts, you know whoremongers. The girl is called Sirna and she was taking care of the Iron Band's wounded when Roxthar arrived unannounced and ordered her off the premises to be Investigated. The Captain-General all but threw Roxthar out the door-which was admirable. By Galzar, I've wanted to do it myself on several occasions."

"So has most of the Grand Host!" Aristocles hooted. "Truly, it is a feather in the mercenary's cap."

"No doubt. And in his bed, as well-if rumors are to be believed; it appears the girl is now his mistress, as well as his healer. It has also cemented his bond with the common soldiers, who love their heroes larger than life, which in turn has inflamed Great King Lysandros' envy and stopped the Grand Host in its tracks."

"I cannot believe all this nonsense. What's happened to straight-out war? It used to be that you went into a disputed territory, won a few battles, conquered the land and then declared victory. Suddenly we have priests and kings arguing over every step we take. A pestilence on all their houses!"

Soton nodded. "And there's more to Lysandros' sudden martial conversion than pure envy and frustration. Word is that his men captured a wounded Hostigi wainwright who was shot off of one of Kalvan's treasure wagons."

"Treasure wagons?"