Free Gunpowder God by John F. Carr

territory,” Hyrum declared. “Have you considered that?”
    Aristocles nodded. “Of course. I’ve already met with King Ingvard of Wulfula and he is now working with the Order. I have brought several of my artificers and artisans to teach your men how to adopt these new practices. They will also help you start a gunsmiths’ guild and teach you how to make your own fireseed.”
    “We know the ingredients, but our fireseed does not burn consistently.”
    “We will show you how to make it into cakes and grind it into good fireseed. Plus, I have brought four wagonloads of it with me as a sign of my friendship.”
    The King clasped Aristocles’ bicep. “Thank you, my friend.” He couldn’t help but think, if Styphon’s House had sold us proper fireseed instead of the powder, we might already have sufficient stores. Suddenly it occurred to him that there might be a price for this help. “What will We have to do to repay these gifts ?”
    “Be assured, Your Highness, that I will not ask you to do anything that is not in your own or your Kingdom’s best interest. You were the one who brought up the fact that many of the Usurper’s changes are not for the best. That his new policies towards his subjects in Thagnor may result in long-term damage to your own rule, or may even foment rebellion among your subjects.”
    Hyrum nodded.
    “All I ask in return for these gifts, is that you keep an open mind as to the future in helping us to contain, or even end, the Usurper’s rule in the Middle Kingdoms. By using Kalvan’s own techniques to make our tarrs invincible, as they were before Kalvan’s fireseed was introduced, we will neutralize the Usurper’s alliance with Ranjar Sargos and the barbarians. You have seen what damage the Usurper has done to King Theovacar and Grefftscharr. Do you believe he will be any easier with yourself and Dorg?”
    Hyrum shook his head. “He seeks to destroy our world and must be stopped. You have my support!”
    They clasped upper arms and swore oaths of loyalty and friendship.
II
    Lysandros was in his tent attempting to dry off; his leathers were so wet he could have wrung them out. It had been raining for the past three days and it seemed as if Lytris, Goddess of Weather and Good Fortune, had turned against him and his command. The only good thing out of all this was that the Rathoni attacks against his outriders had dwindled. It appeared that even the Usurper’s men feared the weather. Many of the Vesthar creeks and streams were swollen and some areas were beginning to flood. The few peasants in the area who’d survived last year’s invasions were poor and downtrodden.
    Lysandros heard someone clearing their throat outside his tent. His first reaction was to grab his sword by the hilt. Realizing his bodyguards were standing outside, he turned to his manservant. “See who it is.”
    His servant went to the tent flap and peered outside. “It’s Captain-General Demnos, sire.”
    “Tell him to come in,” Lysandros ordered.
    Demnos, water streaming off his cloak, entered with another bedraggled figure following behind.
    Several of the candles lighting the tent sputtered or went out as a gust of wind followed behind. His servant quickly closed the flap and then used his tinderbox to light a dry splinter, then relit the candles.
    He didn’t recognize the newcomer. “Speak up.”
    Demnos grimaced, then held out his hand to signal patience. Lysandros could hear his teeth chatter.
    “Move closer to the fire,” he ordered.
    His manservant gave Demnos a cloth to wipe his face.
    After what seemed to Lysandros to be an interminable wait, Demnos cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, this man has just come from Hostigos. He brings news of great import.”
    From the tone of Demnos’ voice, he had an idea that it wasn’t going to be good news. “What now, is my father-in-law Prince Sthentros demanding more gold or does he need my soldiers?”
    The newcomer shook his head.
    “Sire, it is