Duke Skranga was still in his riding cloak when he entered Kalvan's private audience chamber. He noted with satisfaction that Kalvan had already taken the clay stopper out of a small cask of Ermut's Brandy and was well on his way to emptying his own goblet.
"Ahhh, thank you, Your Majesty," he said, after taking the proffered goblet. Underneath the cloak, his clothes were soaked to the bone and only long periods of discomfort in the past made it easy to disregard them.
"Duke," Kalvan opened, "I must say I've been pleased with your reports. You've given good value for the gold we've spent."
Skranga smiled, he couldn't help himself. This praise from Kalvan was more warming than Ermut's Best! "Thank you, Your Majesty. If I could have stayed two more moons I'd of had the Thaphigos Succession lines tied in so many knots it would have taken Lyklos the Trickster to straighten them out!"
Kalvan laughed. "Hostigos could use a regiment of intelligencers with your resourcefulness. Although we may not need them, I plan to run the Royal Army through Hos-Haraphax like lime through a goose's gullet."
Skranga laughed. "You've got the men for it. You should see the sorry toss-birds from every gaol and dungeon that Lysandros and Phidestros have parading up and down the streets of Harphax City! I wouldn't use them to clean the Hostigos army barracks' latrines. If they can't find any better soldiers than that the Hostigos Royal Army should clean out all of Hos-Harphax like the flux!"
"Is there any chance Phidestros is hiding the varsity-I mean the good troops?"
"Har, har, har!" Skranga sputtered. When his coughing spell was over, he poured himself another goblet of brandy and topped off Kalvan's. "True, there's some good mercenary troops-if they don't all desert before spring! And some good Royal soldiers perhaps survived the Chothros cutting, but even Galzar himself couldn't turn that motley mob into a real army. No, there's not much to fear from Harphax next year-except who to make the new Great King."
"Phrames is my choice."
Skranga nodded. Just like Kalvan to have the answers to questions before he even got around to asking them. Skranga paused to tamp his pipe, and then lit it with his tinderbox. "A good leader, even if a bit womanish-I don't mean on the battlefield or in the cot. But, he's delicate about other matters, like killing prisoners and such like." From the frown that creased Kalvan's brow, Skranga knew he'd stepped in a cowpie of some kind, but not exactly sure how. He attempted a quick save, "Even a good farmer has to shoot a few old dogs if they don't keep the foxes out of the turkey pens."
"You're right, but Phrames has learned a few things cleaning up Prince Balthar's stables in Beshta. I think he'll be a good king."
"What do you say, a toast to Great King Phrames, long may he reign!"
"It's a bit premature," Kalvan said, "but why not." The two goblets clinked together soundly.