Knight Sergeant Sarmoth, wearing his black tunic with Styphon's broken sun-wheel over his breast, stood outside Grand Master Soton's large tent, which held the Grand Master's maps and impressive personal armory. He was waiting for the wounded oath-brother, who had stumbled into camp two candles ago, to be brought back from the infirmary tent for questioning.
Soton was inside eating his dinner. Usually he ate with the Brethren, unlike many of his fellow commanders in the Order, Soton didn't require a special kitchen or household staff, but tonight he was eating alone. It was said that soldiers under Grand Master's personal command always had the best mess of the Order. In his six moons with the Grand Master, Sarmoth would have to agree. He knew it was not at the Grand Master command, but because the cooks wanted to make a good impression upon their commanding officer. Having watched Soton eat, he was convinced it was wasted effort-the Grand Master had no taste for anything but strategy and war.
At last, the wounded oath-brother, his head swaddled in white wrappings and supported by two soldiers, was brought to the tent.
Sarmoth led the small party inside, where Soton was seated at a desk going over maps by candlelight and smoking his pipe. His plate, still full, sat neglected by a brace of pistols. Soton's expression was grim; the northernmost expeditionary party was still a half moon overdue and a lone oath-brother from the party had just stumbled into camp, suffering from a serious head wound and dehydration.
The oath-brother was still winded, but he was able to croak out slowly. "We found the Daemon Kalvan…" He coughed, spitting blood on the hard-packed earth floor. "His army is here!"
Soton's face blanched. Sarmoth was unable to believe his ears; the latest reports had Kalvan's army still inside the border of Hostigos-outside Kyblos City. Of course, that report was more than two evenings old, not considering the moon-quarter it took for the scouts to come and go. Still, the Daemon Kalvan would have had to have grown wings and taken flight to reach the Sastragath so quickly.
"Are you sure it was Kalvan?"
"We were chasing a band of Sastragathi warriors…" The oath-brother paused to catch his breath. "When we entered a valley-" He paused to cough and went into a series of wrenching spasms. When his chest stopped heaving, he spoke again, "Kalvan and his troops fell upon us. They had the Hostigos flag and were wearing red and blue colors. Who else could it be, Grand Master?" The oath-brother shook his head wearily.
Soton looked closely at the wounded Ruthani oath-brother. "You're Red Knife-Knight Tydocles' oath-brother."
The Ruthani, clearly exhausted from speaking, nodded his head.
Soton turned to Sarmoth, saying, "Tydocles fought at my side at the Battle of Phyrax with the Eighth Lance. So Red Knife is familiar with Kalvan's banners and colors."
"What happened?"
"It was a trap. Kalvan is in league with the clans."
Soton grunted. "Are you certain?"
Red Knife said, "As certain as I can be without laying eyes on the Daemon himself. They set a trap. A wall of stones and trees fell upon the Knights. We were at the front, so I escaped the trap, but was shot out of my saddle by one of Kalvan's soldiers." He pointed to his head, where the bandage was thickest. "That is where I was hit. I was knocked out for a long time-I don't know how long. When I awoke, I was half-buried under my horse and some brush. My horse had dragged me out of the valley of death, or I would be there yet." He mumbled a prayer. "What nomad leader could have conceived such a trap?"
"Where is the rest of the party?"
"Grand Master, they are all dead-if none have returned. Kalvan and his nomads buried them with an avalanche of stones and then dug them up, cut off their heads and mounted them on poles!"
Sarmoth heard a loud crack, as Soton's teeth bit through his pipe stem. The barrel dropped to the ground.
"This cannot be Kalvan's work-he does not desecrate the dead, he takes prisoners. It has to have been a ruse by one of the warchiefs. We shall send a party to attend our dead and then we shall seek revenge upon the dogs that desecrated the Order-I so order!"
Sarmoth wondered how they were to search out a single band among the hundreds of fleeing tribes and clans. Most of the tribesmen had chosen to flee rather than fight and this was the first serious loss the Knights had sustained in the campaign to drive the clans into Hos-Hostigos.
"I will attend this killing field, in person. Sergeant Sarmoth, tell Knight Commander Aristocles to gather his Lance and arrange a burial detail. If it is truly Kalvan's work, then I will sow the fields of Hostigos with the blood of its women and children."