The Fireseed Wars

III

Great King Demistophon wriggled uncomfortably as he struggled to seat himself upon the Throne of Lights. Underneath an iron frame, the throne was layered with the clearest of quartz crystals, while the outer surfaces were topped with a crust of cut diamonds. The seat had considerable padding, but the diamonds on the armrests cut into his gown often enough that he had to wear a special leather lining underneath his arms. Unfortunately, the throne had been designed at a time when men were demonstrably smaller so he was forced to wedge himself onto the throne.

For about the thousandth time, Demistophon reminded himself that it was time to have a new and more comfortable throne built, but every time he brought it up, his Chancellor and advisors recoiled in horror at the idea of such heresy. The Throne of Lights was an integral symbol of the kingship of Hos-Agrys and designed by the gods themselves, or so the legend went. "Tamper with it at your peril," they advised.

Do they secretly enjoy seeing me struggle to seat myself? he wondered.

It was also unfortunate that he had no friends to advise him; kingship was a lonely position and everyone wanted something from him, no matter how much they dissembled. Now, he was about to meet with the ecclesiastical head of the High Temple of Dralm, Primate Xentos and two of his minions. Fortunately, this was a private audience and he would not have to suffer the presence of Highpriest Haltor; they opposed each other at every step and he had grown weary of refereeing their disputes.

He disliked the pushy Primate from Hostigos, but absolutely hated Highpriest Haltor, who treated him like some underling that Haltor could bark orders to. Now that the Usurper Kalvan was displaced, Styphon's House acted as if they ruled the Great Kingdoms. If he'd had half the power his ancestors had held, both of the priests would be rotting in the palace dungeon. He neither believed in gods nor their temples. If there were truly gods, they would have made his life less vexing and more comfortable, as was his due. Since the so-called gods didn't, they were a sham and a means of conniving gold from him and his subjects.

He watched as the white-robed Primate with an eight-pointed blue star on the chest, Highpriest Davros and a younger man unfamiliar to him walked down the Path of Light of the Great Audience Chamber to the Throne of Light. Xentos' countenance was grim, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Demistophon felt his stomach begin to clench and writhe. He barely listened as his Chancellor mouthed the usual pronouncements and titles proper for any public audience. Xentos, unlike any normal subject or lord, refused to bow down and stood as straight as a rake, with his mouth set in disapproval. It was no wonder, faced with this disrespect, that his gut churned as though it was working bits of broken glass.

It was of little consolation that Davros and the young man bowed repeatedly and followed the proper forms of etiquette due his office.

Finally, the Primate spoke, "Your Majesty, I have come to you with some grave news, both for the Great Kingdom of Hos-Agrys and your person."

I grow weary of this nonsense, he thought. It always begins like this: What new antic has Highpriest Haltor worked upon the Temple of Dralm? "What now?" he asked.

"I have at my side Brother Mathros who has just returned from Balph. He has learned of an event that will shake the entire kingdom to its foundations."

The old fool, he thought. Whatever it was that had the Primate outraged was most certainly of no interest to him. Most likely, some new atrocity of Styphon's House upon the Temple of Dralm-pure piffle to his mind. Now, a priest of Dralm who survived in Balph; Demistophon had to study such a wonder. When had the Temple of Dralm begun sending out their own agents-inquisitory? What is the world coming to?

The Brother stepped forward, speaking briefly and concisely, which gave his words about Styphon's House plot to bring down his House more weight. Was Grand Master Soton actually gathering an army in Thebra to lay siege to Agrys City and bring him down?

It did not sound outside the Temple's reach; Styphon's House's arrogance and greed knew no bounds. However, the last he'd heard Soton was somewhere in the Trygath, chasing the Usurper Kalvan. Can I believe this temple rat, or should I send him packing?

Demistophon heard loud cries and shouts coming from the chamber anteroom. What now?

A moment later a red-faced Highpriest of Styphon's House came striding down the Path of Light. "What are they doing here? Why was I not told that the False Priests of Dralm were in the Palace?"

Highpriest Haltor came right up to the Throne of Lights, pointing his finger in Demistophon's face.

Are they all mad? he asked himself. "Guards!"

One of his bodyguards took the priest by the cowl of his robe and jerked him backwards, leaving him coughing and sputtering. Does Styphon's House have agents inside the palace? he asked himself. If they do, I'll have them all rooted out and boiled in hot oil. Damn these arrogant priests!

"How dare you lay hands on my person!" Highpriest Haltor sputtered.

Highpriest Davros was laughing into his sleeve, while Primate Xentos bit back a grin.

"ENOUGH!" Demistophon cried out. "I'll have you all in irons, if this persists!"

"I want to know what these False Idolaters were saying about me behind my back!" Haltor demanded.

"Damning accusations against Styphon's House, Highpriest, that I wasn't taking seriously enough until your intemperate arrival."

"The false priests of Dralm are behind any plots against Your Majesty's realm-if there are any such designs."

"Like Grand Master Soton's army lying in wait in Thebra City?" he asked.

Haltor turned as white as a bleached skull. "It… it's… a… lie!" he sputtered.

"Ha! I don't believe your words, you demon-spawn of Ormaz! Your face gives you away! Guards, put him in chains and take him to the dungeons. Call my chief torturer."

Highpriest Haltor was panic-stricken, his head spastically turning one way and another, trying to see a way out of his predicament. He began to wail as the bodyguard pinned his arms in back and frog-marched him out of the Great Audience Chamber.

Now, at last, I can get my hands on the gold in all the Styphon's House temples, Demistophon thought, rubbing his hands in anticipation. The only troubling aspect is this talk of an invasion. Would the dung-eating priests of Styphon actually dare to attack my realm? If so, what can I do to stymie them?

Demistophon turned to Xentos, saying, "It's time we had a long talk."