"Some of the scouts use this place as a temporary HQ." he said, taking a moment to light his pipe.
"What's this all about?" she asked.
"It's not that I don't trust our people, but tongues do wag. How did it go with Chartiphon?"
Rylla smiled. "Very well. The Old Captain looks a decade younger than when he left Hos-Hostigos. Kingship suits him well. I don't think he's felt appreciated for a long time. As Sarrask put it, 'the old dog's been on a three-year snit!'We found Chartiphon a suitable wife, the Lady Sylvra, a widow from a respectable family in good health and with ties to most of the leading Rathoni houses."
"Has she given birth before?"
"Yes, husband. She has two young children, both girls."
Kalvan smiled. "Ah ha, no dynastic complications. I can see you covered all avenues."
"I want this dynasty to work. And, I'd like to see Chartiphon happy again. I expect they'll have their first child mid-summer."
Kalvan let out a lungful of smoke. "To tell you the truth, I'm glad you crowned the old soldier, Rylla. It would have never occurred to me. You're right, Chartiphon is a much better choice as King of Rathon than Prince Sarrask, who would much rather be wielding a mace than overseeing civilians. Nor is Sarrask half the administrator Chartiphon is. We owe the Old Captain a lot and, truthfully, I think many of his problems have been my fault. I played favorites, especially with Harmakros and Phrames. I'm sure it helped put his nose out of joint."
She leaned forward, putting her hands on her husband's knees and squeezed. "Darling, you only did what you had to do. Chartiphon was stuck in the old Hostigi ways. He didn't want to change. Harmakros and Phrames embraced your new ideas. With Chartiphon, you had to take him by the scruff of the neck and lead him to them. Even then he balked."
"Is that going to be a problem now?"
"I don't think so. Chartiphon told me that he will do his best to bring Rathon, screaming and scratching, into the Hostigi way. He's had time to mull over things and come to realize that your ways are best. He even told me so, and asked for your forgiveness."
Kalvan shook his head. "I can't blame him for balking; I've turned his world upside down. Chartiphon's always been a good leader, or your father wouldn't have put him in charge of his army. We've missed his knowledge and leadership. Now he'll have his own army and subjects to govern. You did good, girl."
Rylla tried to keep from blushing, but felt her face redden. Kalvan didn't often give out praise, especially when she acted counter to his orders.
"What about Phrames? I thought you were going to make him Prince of Thagnor?"
Kalvan paused to empty his pipe bowl and clean it with his little knife. "I decided, after I had time to scout out the place, that Thagnor was the ideal center for our new Kingdom of Nos-Hostigos now that we're committed to this area. It occurred to me that it would be wise to make it our possession, one that we could pass on to our children."
Rylla felt a sudden stabbing pain in her heart. It took a conscious effort to keep her voice from trembling when she asked, "Does that mean you don't plan to return to Hostigos?"
Kalvan shrugged. "I can't promise you anything, darling. The Styphoni might not let us return."
Rylla's throat swelled up and she had a hard time talking. "But that's my… our home."
"I know, Rylla. I'll do my best. Right now our biggest challenge is to stop the Grand Host from killing us all."
"You're right," she squawked, her voice cracking. She felt dizzy and her stomach heaved. "I… don't know… I grew up in Hostigos Town. It's always been my home… All my memories are there… my Mother and Father are buried there. I know it's not yours-"
"Hostigos is my home, too. We had to leave or we would have all died there, like so many-I'll never forget, or forgive those Dralm-damned bastards! Do you think I liked leaving your father and my best friend behind?"
"Of course, not!"
"Rylla, I will promise you this, on little Demia's life; I will return to Hostigos if there's any real chance that we can retake it, and hold it. If not, we'll have to make a new life for ourselves here in Thagnor."
Rylla nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She hated herself when she broke out in tears and wasn't about to let it happen. She had promised herself that nothing would spoil her homecoming. When her throat opened, she said, "I know you will do your best, and that your best is better than anyone else's."
Kalvan set his pipe down and took her in his arms. "Darling, I will do everything it takes to get us all home again. But I can't make any promises."
She nodded and blinked back her tears. Someday those Styphoni scum will pay for their crimes!
TWENTY-SEVEN
Great King Lysandros was impressed by the opulence of King Theovacar's Great Audience Chamber; the walls were draped with tapestries chronicling battles in vivid colors that had taken place a thousand years before. Theovacar was seated upon the real Iron Throne, the one his throne back in Harphax was modeled after. The Iron Throne itself was crusted with multicolored jewels, like barnacles on an old ship's bottom. To either side of the Iron Throne sat a spotted panther tethered on a golden chain, like the ones in his own menagerie taken from jungles in Mexicotal. Lysandros would have been more overwhelmed had Theovacar found some method, other than the fireplaces, which drew more hot air than they threw out, to heat this tomb. He was very sure this chamber was meant to be intimidating to the locals; however, he was Great King of Hos-Harphax and as such commanded more soldiers than all of Theovacar s armies. If he so desired, the Grand Host could set siege to this antiquated city and by summer it would be theirs. His supremacy in fireseed and artillery guaranteed it. He wondered if it might not be a good idea. Aristocles would balk, but it would be a victory of such brilliance that it would take him out of Phidestros' and the Usurper's shadows for all of time… finally he would be recognized as the greatest military commander of his age.
It certainly would wipe the smug look off this arrogant fool's face! he thought. After waiting in the palace antechamber for four candles, his patience was near its end. He forced himself to breathe evenly and still his temper. This was not the time or place to make another enemy, especially when they were without allies in this dismal land.
The Palace Seneschal stepped up to Theovacar's Throne, neatly sidestepping the leopard to the King's right. He whispered something in the King's ear. Theovacar nodded and the Seneschal stepped forward:
"Theovacar, Fourth of that name, Prince of Greffa, King of all Grefftscharr, will speak in private with the King of Hos-Harphax."
Lysandros noted that the Seneschal had carefully clipped the "Great" from his title. It appeared Theovacar might be jealous of his honorific, I wonder if I can work that to my advantage?
The Audience Chamber quickly emptied and, when all but the King's Companions were gone, the King motioned him to follow. They entered a private room where things were not so formal, although it was still festooned with hangings and colored mosaics, depicting great sea victories and paintings of long dead kings.
Theovacar sat down on the higher of the two chairs and motioned him to the other. After sitting and exchanging the standard ritual greetings, the Theovacar said, "Welcome to Greffa. We hope your stay has been pleasant."
"It has, Your Majesty," Lysandros said, trying to keep his anger out of his voice. Is Theovacar trying to slight me by not mentioning my honorific? he wondered. "I come from far away to speak of important matters."
"So We understand. We assume the Usurper Kalvan is first on your mind?"