Down styphon, p.28
Down Styphon!, page 28
part #8 of Kalvan Series
It was all coming back to her. She should have spent more on arms and training, rather than galas and rich furnishings for the palace. But who had ever predicted that the Great Queen Rylla would dare to attack Harphax from the west, while Kalvan was busy investing Balph?
“Can we stop them?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“For a few days, Your Majesty. Once their guns go to work on the gates, nothing we have will keep them out. I suggest you open the gates and parley with their commander.”
Lavena shuddered, as she imagined what kind of welcome she would receive from her cousin Rylla. “Will your men fight?”
Captain-General Wilkros shrugged. “Maybe, for a few days. Most will surrender the moment the gates are sundered. I heartily suggest you meet and offer terms before the enemy’s blood is heated up. By then it may be too late.”
She nodded wearily.
THIRTY-THREE
I
Chancellor Lyphannes, wearing his silver chain of office, looked up and down the corridor before he opened the door to the private chamber deep in the bowels of the castle. Seated at the long table were the Master-at-Arms of Tarr-Harphax, the Lord High Mayor and a dozen or more of the most important merchants and officials in Harphax City Behind them, a large fire was roaring in the stone hearth, throwing shadows on the wall hangings and tapestries.
Lyphannes took a seat at the head of the table, pushing his chair as close as his large belly would allow.
The Lord Mayor spoke first: “Chancellor, we have to do something! The Hostigi are almost at the city gates.”
Lyphannes nodded, turning to the Master-at-Arms, he said, “How long can we keep them out of the city?”
The grizzled Master-at-Arms shook his head. “A few days, at best. Great King Geblon left only a token garrison, and most of those were the dregs of the Harphaxi Army.” He paused to spit on the stone floor. “The City Militia aren’t worth the fireseed it’ll take to blow them to Regwarn! Curse Geblon and the she-bitch he left behind!”
“What do you think will happen when the Hostigi bust through the gates?” Lyphannes asked.
“Pure mayhem! They’ll sack this city like it hasn’t been done in a hundred and fifty winters. No man will be safe, no woman will retain her virtue and no house will escape unscathed. It’ll be a disaster!”
“We must stop them somehow!” the Lord Mayor cried out. “We’ve all got too much to lose, to allow this Hostigi plague loose upon our city.”
“I agree,” the Chancellor said. “However, the Great Queen demands that we prepare for a long siege and keep the Hostigi Army out of the city.”
“Will she be fighting atop the walls?” a fat merchant asked.
“No,” the Master-at-Arms replied, spitting on the floor again. “She’ll be hiding in the safety of our private chamber with her nursemaids. Nor, will all of Lavena’s words keep the city walls from tumbling down! We all know that Great Queen Rylla despises Lavena and blames her and her bastard father for the Hostigi defeat at the hands of the Grand Host of Styphon, leading to the fall of Tarr-Hostigos and her father’s death. Rylla won’t be placated until Lavena’s head decorates the city gates.”
“Then let’s give the Hostigi spitfire what she wants,” one of the Barons said.
Lyphannes smiled to himself, careful to keep it off his face. The meeting was going even better than he had expected. After a year of being humiliated and kowtowing to that she-devil Lavena, he was about to get his revenge.
“Great Queen Rylla and Great King Kalvan have no personal stake in sacking our city,” the Lord Mayor opined. “If we can give Rylla what she wants, maybe she’ll leave us in peace.”
The Chancellor doubted that, but it would give them a bargaining point—as well as keep their own heads from being cut off. Rylla was known to be a devilish opponent and not one to forgive a slight. “If many Hostigi soldiers die breaking through our city walls, Great Queen Rylla might well take her ire out on those she holds responsible—that is, the people in this room.”
Everyone at the table nodded.
“What can we do to prevent this miscarriage?” the fat merchant asked, sweat now dripping off his nose.
Lyphannes turned to the Master-at-Arms and nodded.
As prearranged, the battered old veteran stood up over the table and its occupants. “We give Great Queen Rylla what she really wants.”
“And what is that?” someone asked.
“Queen Lavena’s head!”
II
Kalvan watched from a gentle rise as the Hostigi army wheeled into position. Next to him rode Duke Skranga, his Chief of Intelligence, and Vanar Halgoth.
They were positioned over four miles away from the gates of the Holy City of Balph. Captain-General Alkides, commander of the Hostigi Artillery, was busy setting his batteries in position. Kalvan could hear the squeal of turning axles, the thud of heavy guns dropped into position and snorting horses. From this distance, only the battery of rifled guns could actually reach the positon outside the gates where the Styphoni Army had arrayed itself, some sixty thousand strong.
The rest of the artillery would be held in reserve. His plan was to pound the Styphoni forces into submission or force them to retreat back behind the city walls. It was going to be a lot like shooting fish in a barrel.
The poor bastards would think Galzar was raining cannonballs down upon their heads when the first salvo reached them from such a distance. Styphoni smoothbore gunfire was good for about two and a half miles—if that, since the fireseed they used was Styphon’s Best—they would either have to remain in position and take it, or charge directly into the face of the Hostigi army. If they were smart, they’d retreat behind the city gates.
Colonel Leukestros rode up to his position with two mounted riflemen. “Your Majesty!”
“What now?” he asked.
“There’s another force of Styphoni cavalry to the west.”
“How large, Colonel?”
“About twenty thousand horse, maybe more. Captain-General Halmoth of the Mobile Force begs your permission to set up a field of fire.”
The Hostigi army was deployed with the right flank along the river and the rest of the Hostigi aligned along an east-west axis facing Balph’s main gates. As Kalvan saw it, the Styphoni plan was to hit the Hostigi rear with their cavalry while the infantry struck from the front. Considering their numerical superiority, the terrain and lack of cover, it wasn’t a bad plan.
“Tell Halmoth to take to the ground with the Mobile Force. I’ll send Colonel Leukestros and four thousand dragoons in support.” About two-thirds of the dragoons were armed with rifles, the rest pikes and pistols. That would give the Baron almost eight thousand men, the majority of them armed with rifles.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Also, and I want you to be quite clear on this point, I want Halmoth to order his men to fire on the horses, not their riders.”
Leukestros blanched. Like most cavalrymen, he had more affection for horses than the men who rode them. “But why, sire?”
“When a cavalry horse goes down, Colonel, it not only dismounts its rider, causing him grievous injuries, but it may take down two or three horses behind or around him as they attempt to jump or stumble over its body. I’ve seen cases where a few downed horses took out an entire troop.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Leukestros said somewhat stiffly. Obviously he agreed, even if he didn’t like the message.
Kalvan didn’t mind ruffling a few feathers as long as it got the job done.
III
Grand Commander Grythos stayed at the rear of Styphon’s Host along with the other commanders, Great King Niclophon, Lord Marshal Malthros of Hos-Ktemnos and half a dozen captain-generals and princes.
“What in Galzar’s name are the Usurper’s men doing?” Niclophon asked.
Marshal Malthros shrugged, while Grand Commander Grythos— looking through one of the Hostigi farseers captured during the Siege of Tarr-Hostigos—said, “They only have a single battery of guns guarding their center. It appears the Hostigi have gone to ground. They want us to charge them.”
“Look at all those guns they have in reserve!” Malthros exclaimed. “It would be suicide. They have over a hundred cannon, some of them big thirty-pounders or more!”
So it appears. Then why are they using their main body of guns as a reserve? Grythos wondered. Are they trying to lure us into a charge? He looked closely at their own small artillery force now arrayed before the Grand Host; he doubted they numbered more than twenty guns. A formidable force, only if Kalvan were stupid enough to charge them in a direct advance. Having fought the Hostigi Great King on several occasions, he could not foresee such a thing happening.
From the center of the Hostigi artillery force, the two batteries of guns fired and a thunderclap struck their ears. He was shocked when most of the cannonballs not only hit the army, killing a score of men and dismembering others, but a few actually struck the city walls behind them.
“What in Ormaz’s Caverns was that?” Great King Niclophon demanded.
“Flying death!” Malthros shouted. “The Hostigi are almost ten marches away. What kind of demon fireseed are they using?”
“It can’t be!” exclaimed one of the artillery captains, a mercenary from Hos-Zygros.
“Can’t be what?” Grythos demanded. “What are you talking about?”
“Rifled cannon. Captain-General Kyblannos of the Zygrosi Royal Army has been talking about those for years. He claimed that if one could figure out how to rifle gun barrels, it would change siegecraft forever.”
Another Hostigi salvo went off. This time several of the lead companies fell back, as though they could back away from the flying death about to smash into their ranks. Moments later the iron balls struck their midst spraying blood and body parts. The entire front began to recoil.
“We’d better retreat back behind the city walls, or we’ll be crushed!” Niclophon cried out.
“By Styphon’s Bollocks!” Grythos cursed. “Captain-General Syros, give the horns the order to retreat and get those Dralm-damned gates open!”
As the gates slowly opened and the Great Host wheeled, another salvo of cannonballs struck them, disordering the ranks and causing some to panic—horses riding over infantry, infantry running like turkeys with their heads cut off. Soon the entire Host was scrambling to fight their way through the gates of Balph and into the city.
IV
Kalvan was amazed when he saw the effect the new rifled cannon batteries had on the Grand Host of Styphon’s House. Even in his wildest dreams, he had not expected such results. Men were riding their horses over those behind them in their hurry to get back inside the walls for protection, while others were scrambling away from the gates in a mad panic. It was like kicking over an ant hill.
Chief of Hostigos Intelligence Skranga, cackled in delight. “They do not like your new guns, Your Majesty!”
Kalvan nodded. “I know. They’ll keep them penned in behind their walls.”
“What about the cavalry force?” Skranga asked.
“They will either have to advance or retreat. I’m sure their commanders would rather die in their saddles than retreat ignobly.”
“Praise Galzar!” Skranga exclaimed, clapping his hands. “By tonight, Ormaz’s Caverns will be stuffed to overflowing with Styphoni dead.”
V
Captain-General Halmoth levered himself up to a higher branch on the longleaf pine tree. The upper trunk swayed, as he rubbed the sticky gum off on his blue trousers. From his new position, he could see the main Styphoni force retreating back into Balph. Kalvan’s new rifled guns had put the fear of Regwarn in those whoredogs!
Halmoth turned to watch the cavalry force about two marches away. They were beginning to mount up, but he still wasn’t sure if that meant they were going to return to Balph or charge his detachment. Then he saw one of the commanders pointing in their direction. He dropped down from the pine tree as fast as dignity and safety would allow. Since the long-leaf pine trees naturally pruned their lower branches, his major concern was not impaling his privy parts.
“Colonel Leukestros!” he called out, as he hit the ground.
“Yes, Captain General.”
“It looks like those whoresons are going to advance. Prepare the men.”
“Yes, sir.”
When the enemy horse reached the mark Halmoth had set in his mind, he gave the order, “FIRE!”
A loud volley of rifle fire cracked the air, and he watched as five score or more of horses jerked and dropped, many of them severely wounded and dying. With the second volley, twice as many horses dropped, completely disordering the front ranks. Horses were tripping over fallen animals and men, falling sideways and on top of dismounted riders and dying horses.
The screams of wounded horses were now competing with the sound of gunfire. He watched as the succeeding ranks ran into the fallen and milling horses, breaking up and disordering their charge. Many were stomping their riders into the ground. The next volley took the fire right out of the charge and the rear ranks began to recoil and redress themselves.
“Open fire!” Halmoth ordered. “Now, take out the men!” He was certain that their next move would be to retreat and he was determined to inflict as many casualties as possible before the Styphoni cavalry returned to the safety of their walls.
THIRTY-FOUR
I
As they watched the distant Styphoni cavalry fall into a disordered retreat, Captain-General Hestophes turned to Kalvan. “Your Majesty, it looks like that bunch is headed back to the city, too.”
Kalvan nodded. “The fighting is over for today. I was hoping for a few more casualties.”
Hestophes laughed. “Now you’re sounding like Rylla! It’s not even noon yet, and I suspect the Styphoni lost a few thousand men, at no cost to us. It was almost too easy. They’ll be like turtles from now on; I don’t expect they’ll leave the safety of the city walls again.”
Kalvan agreed. “Now, were going to have to besiege the city,” he said as he studied the layout of the Holy City. Balph was perched right on the waterfront of the Mythros River while the rest of the city formed a large oval with the Golden Temple of Styphon’s House at the center. There was an uneven ditch running around the entire city; Kalvan suspected that at one time it had been a moat, fed by the Mythros River. It had been abandoned long ago and partially filled in.
“Where are we going to hit them?” Hestophes asked. “The city gates?”
Kalvan shook his head. “They’ve been reinforcing the gates for several moons.” He pointed to where the moat was almost completely filled in. “That’s where we’ll hit them. Our big thirty-twos will make short work of that wall.”
“Then what?”
Kalvan spat on the ground disgustedly. “Then we’ll take the city block by block. Dralm damn-it!”
“That’s going to be expensive,” Hestophes noted.
“City warfare is the most costly fighting of all,” he replied. “But I don’t see any other alternative.”
II
“What happened out there?” Styphon’s Voice screeched. “Why did the entire Host retreat?”
Grand Commander Grythos threw out his hands in disgust. “We were out-gunned and out-maneuvered. Kalvan has some new-fangled cannon that shoots twice as far as any gun I’ve ever seen. It would have been suicide to stay in our position any longer.”
“What do we do now?”
“We wait for him to attack the walls. Then we throw everything we have at him.”
“Will that work?” Anaxthenes asked, puffing like a long-distance runner.
“It better, because it’s all we’ve got.”
“What about our bolt hole?”
“Too late. Kalvan’s men have encircled the entire city. His Sastragathi outriders are pillaging the countryside and taking prisoners. Anyone they find outside Balph who’s been circumcised, they’re slitting their throats— low priest, underpriest, or highpriest. There’s no way out. We either stop the Usurper inside these walls, or we all die.”
“What about Great King Lukthos? Can we get word to him?”
Grythos shook his head sadly. “Lukthos has already sent us his best men and they’re penned up inside Balph like lambs ready for the slaughter house. Any men he has left will be busy protecting him in the event Balph falls.”
III
Prince Sarrask watched with bated breath as the small group of nobles and wealthy merchants slowly rode out of the Harphax City gates. Most were wearing their finest garments and fur cloaks, despite the heat. Their
upside-down flag indicated it was a parley. One of the men held up two poles, which was topped by what appeared to be a head with long black hair.
He heard Great Queen Rylla’s intake of breath when she realized that it was Lavena’s head that graced one of the poles. Then she grabbed Sarrask’s vambrace with her gauntlet so hard that her grip would have fractured his arm had he not been wearing armor.
There was a tiny head on the other pole, a baby’s. It must be Princess Sima! “Stab me!” Sarrask cried out.
“Dralm-damnit, Sarrask!” Rylla cursed. “I’ll have all their heads!”
“Hush, Your Majesty,” Uncle Wolf Tharses said in a harsh whisper. “These pox-ridden fools only think they are doing your will. If you insult them now, we may have to take the city by force. It won’t be hard, but hundreds of Hostigi lives will be needlessly spent.”
“But they killed her baby!” she whispered in a tone that almost turned into a screech. Nearby eyes were searching her out. Fortunately, the city notables were not close enough to overhear her words.
“Remember Phaxos, Your Majesty,” Sarrask said.
“How could I forget,” she replied.
“After we sacked Phaxos Town, you had the Prince and his entire family executed, including the children.”
