Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4)

by Christina Ochs

  “It’s ridiculous, but I understand. You must marry someone who will help strengthen Terragand, especially now. Your bond with Norovaea is already so close a marriage would add no benefit. I hope you will find someone you like when the time comes.”

  His face turned sad. “I will have to find someone too. I don’t want to, but if Teodora is behind this, I must establish an unquestioned line of succession. Getting a strong ally in the process wouldn’t hurt either.”

  So he couldn’t marry Natalya then. Maryna was a little disappointed, though she’d noticed in her time here that Natalya and Uncle Arryk had never warmed up to each other. They liked different things, laughed at different kinds of jokes, and just weren’t the same people at all, not like her parents.

  “Who do you think you’ll marry?” she asked.

  “I’ve asked my ambassador in Anglana to find out more about their king’s second daughter. She’s old enough, and isn’t hideous. I suppose I can’t expect more than that.” He laughed and winced at the same time.

  “You can expect her to be nice and clever at the very least.” Indignation rose in Maryna’s heart. “You’re so kind and still quite handsome; you deserve the best princess you can find.”

  Uncle Arryk’s eyes crinkled at her. “Thank you, my dear, that means a lot. I promise not to marry anyone too dreadful, since I would hate for you to be angry with me.”

  The doctor came in to check on Magnus, and pronounced his progress satisfactory. “He’s weak, but the wound will heal well enough. He needs rest, and when he awakens, plenty of nourishment.”

  “I will see to it myself,” the king promised.

  Next came Natalya, looking weary, the front of her Maxima’s robes splattered with blood. Maryna wondered if it was hers, or Magnus’s, or someone else’s.

  She collapsed into a chair at the table between the two of them and said, “Might I have a drink please? Something strong.”

  “Of course.” The king waved to a servant standing in the shadows. “You’ll want food too, I’m sure.”

  “Perhaps.” Natalya’s eyes were blank. “Though I feel rather sick, I’m sure it will pass.” She waited for the servant to bring a glass and a decanter with brandy, made him pour the glass almost full and drank down most of it.

  “There, that’s better.” She put the glass down and her eyes looked normal again, though a little glazed over.

  Maryna was full of questions, but held her tongue.

  It looked like Uncle Arryk was about to die of curiosity as well, but he stayed quiet too.

  Finally Natalya reached inside her robe, and pulled out a dirty sheet of paper. She pushed it across the table to Uncle Arryk.

  “It was all I got out of her before she died. I’m afraid I’m not as skilled as a professional. I’m sorry. Some of those people were your friends.”

  Uncle Arryk was already reading down the list and had turned pale. “I’m not surprised at some of these, though I expected them to be Norovaean patriots even if they disagreed with me. But Norvel Classen ...”

  He laid the paper down and put his head in his hands. When he looked up again he said, “My father trusted him with his life, and he proved himself to me as well. I suppose I should have insisted on his retirement after I signed the treaty with Teodora.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve already ordered everyone on the list brought in for questioning.” Natalya took another sip of her drink, and picked at a plate set before her by the servant.

  Arryk nodded. “Thank you. But how do we know the assassin wasn’t lying about who was involved?” He still looked numb and shocked.

  “We don’t.” Natalya waved over the servant to pour her another drink. “With your permission, I’ll question each of the people on the list individually. I’m sure I can persuade at least a few of them to betray their fellow plotters in exchange for clemency.”

  “Who is the assassin? Was the assassin, I mean,” Maryna asked.

  “As I suspected, one of Teodora’s, though she was far from the only one. Over the past six months, Olvisyan agents have infiltrated Arenberg at the highest levels of society. They needed to turn only a few members of the Norovaean nobility to start at least a small uprising. Provided we can arrest all of them today, the revolt will be over before it starts.”

  She turned toward Maryna. “The assassin who came after you was originally supposed to kill Magnus Torsen. Another was sent after the king, though he came to check on you before she could strike.

  “There were four others, all of them assigned to eliminate those closest to the king. Your accession caught them by surprise and they changed their plans, though Count Torsen still had a close call.”

  Uncle Arryk muttered something rude under his breath then asked, “So there’s no question Teodora was behind all of this?”

  “No question,” Natalya said.

  Teodora

  Even though she couldn’t laugh properly, Teodora did it anyway.

  Natalya’s letter was angry, perhaps even tearful—there were a few telltale blotches on the page. She and Gwynneth had been good friends after all.

  “It’s confirmed by Natalya herself,” Teodora told Count Solteszy. “Princess Gwynneth and the children are dead. She’s convinced I was behind it somehow, though she can’t prove anything.”

  “Any word of your assassin?”

  Teodora scanned the rest of the letter, but saw no mention of Daciana or Fernanda, aside from Natalya saying she was still looking for the perpetrator. “No, so I hope she got away and will return soon.”

  Teodora would have to come up with another project for Daciana, since she had performed so well. Perhaps she could send her after Lennart himself.

  “Now all we have to do is wait for word from Norovaea.”

  “It won’t be long,” Teodora said. “My people have been in place for months, and I told them to go ahead some weeks ago. I expect to hear of King Arryk’s overthrow any day now.”

  “Is Prince Aksel becoming more cooperative?”

  Teodora sighed. “No, he isn’t, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll show him this letter, which no doubt will upset him terribly. News from Norovaea will come soon, and then he’ll have no choice but to take his place as king.”

  “Well done, Your Highness,” the count said, the admiration in his eyes at last replacing the annoying pity that had been there for too long.

  “Ah well, it’s nice when a plan comes to fruition.” Teodora decided on modesty for now. She’d save the bombast for when she broke the news to the council.

  Later that day, Teodora received an official dispatch from Lennart. She had to ask Livilla to open it, her good hand trembled so. She could use her left hand now as a claw, but only when she was calm.

  Livilla handed her the letter, written in an expansive hand, covering two large pages. It was polite, but overly confident.

  “He has Elektra, as we already knew,” Teodora said, looking up. “He’s willing to return her, but he has conditions of course.”

  “Of course,” Livilla said. “What are they?”

  Teodora sighed. “Kendryk reinstated as ruler of Terragand, and the same for Princess Floreta of Brandana. My guarantee of non-interference in religious matters through all of Kronland.”

  “Unacceptable,” Livilla said a little too quickly. Did she think Teodora would cave so easily?

  “It certainly is,” Teodora said, “but it’s a start. I might agree to Kendryk ruling Terragand again, but I’ll still want Edric Landrus sent here to receive his sentence. And I don’t mind Princess Floreta getting Brandana back, though good luck prying it from Mattila. Lennart is welcome to try. As to the religious side, I”m afraid I have no authority to agree to such a thing. The Imperata will want to be consulted, I’m sure.”

  “She will.” Livilla took the letter when Teodora handed it to her. “This is excellent news. We can delay over several measures. It will take months for the Imperata to formulate a response, and in the meantime, Lenna
rt has no reason to march on Atlona.”

  “Perhaps not. But don’t you think he might anyway?” Teodora worried that hoping for a reprieve would be too much to ask, even of the gods.

  “Maybe.” Livilla shrugged. “But you need not delay him for long. Mattila has already recruited a large army. It’s only a matter of time before she’s able to stop him, and stop him she will.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” Teodora muttered.

  “It will be, for her. Lennart has had a great victory, but only one. Mattila has had a dozen over the past thirty years. His luck will run out and she doesn’t need luck. Once she meets him in the field, face to face, it will all be over.”

  “I worry he’ll harm Elektra in the meantime.” She didn’t say it, but more than that, Teodora worried he might turn her daughter against her.

  “Why should he? You’ll offer him just enough to keep him thinking negotiating with you is worthwhile. By the time he realizes he’s not getting anywhere, Mattila will have sprung her trap.”

  “That assumes she’s willing to help me. Do you think I’m ready to meet her?” Teodora sat up a little straighter.

  Livilla regarded her critically. “As long as you don’t stand, you look normal. I’ll ask her to stop whatever she’s doing in Tirilis and come here now. It’s time you brought her onto your side officially.”

  Lennart

  “You can help me persuade your mother,” Lennart told Trystan Martinek as they rode side-by-side on the Podoska road.

  He had decided to stop in Podoska and get more troops out of Princess Edyta to replace those he’d left behind. After hearing worrisome news about enemy soldiers plundering and burning in western Terragand, Lennart had left five thousand of his own in Heidenhof under Dolf Kalstrom’s command, besides a few thousand more headed by Count Faris.

  He worried that he ought to have sent his family home, but after the blissful months he’d spent with Raysa and the baby, he couldn’t bring himself to do it yet.

  Trystan frowned. “Best I keep my mouth shut. My mother likes doing the opposite of what I want. Maybe you’ll have better luck with her.”

  Lennart chuckled to himself, thinking he wouldn’t mind sparring with this princess as long as she came around eventually.

  Before reaching Berolstein Castle, he went in search of the hospital wagons.

  Karolyna Martinek still could not walk, but he hoped she’d be well enough to help with her mother. He reckoned an eldest child and heir might have more clout than the baby.

  “How are you feeling today, Your Grace?” He did his best to sound cheerful.

  “The same.” Duchess Karolyna sat in a wagon on a bed of cushions, though the constant bumping and lurching had to be painful. Her eyes were sunken in her drawn, pale face, and Lennart barely recognized the belligerent woman who’d accompanied Trystan.

  “We’re nearly there. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable at home.”

  “Hmph.” She turned her back on Lennart.

  He did his best to stay calm and patient. She’d been terribly wounded, but the humiliation had to be worse. After insisting on commanding the center, hers had been the only army that crumbled in front of the enemy. It had worked out in the end, but that was all due to Lennart’s strategies and Trystan’s quick and unhesitating implementation.

  “Once you’ve settled in, I was hoping you might persuade your mother—”

  “You want me to persuade my mother to give you more cannon fodder?” Karolyna rounded on him, her eyes furious, though her voice was weak.

  “I will never again allow troops to leave Podoska unless they’re under my command. And obviously—” she gestured toward her useless legs, “it will be some time before I can do that.”

  “I understand,” Lennart said. “I’d feel the same way. But your brother is a promising leader—”

  “That puppy,” she snapped. “He’ll lead Podoska’s troops over my dead body.”

  Lennart shook his head and rode away. He’d have to manage without her support then, and likely expect her interference. He wondered what she had against Trystan.

  Before reaching Berolstein, he was careful to spread his armies in smaller camps across the countryside, not wishing to place a burden on the princess. And since he’d heard how difficult she was, he put out a little more effort than usual to look kingly, even wearing a large hat with a feather, and a heavy gold chain around his neck.

  Princess Edyta received him with cold formality. “Thank you for returning my children,” she said, after greeting Karolyna coolly and sending her off to her own quarters. She then offered her wrinkled cheek to Trystan, who made a face before kissing it.

  “Their help was invaluable.” Lennart took a seat across from her at a small table in the center of a great hall. Even though he didn’t speak loudly, his words echoed off the stone walls before being swallowed up into cavernous vaulted ceilings.

  “And I’m very sorry about your daughter’s injuries. She fought bravely.”

  The princess raised an eyebrow. “You needn’t use pretty words with me. I heard all about that battle. I’m rather embarrassed on Karolyna’s behalf, though she’s old enough to take responsibility for herself. Trystan however, is beginning to meet expectations.”

  Trystan’s eyebrows shot up, and Lennart wondered if this was the closest thing to praise he’d ever received from his mother.

  “Trystan is a leader of rare ability,” Lennart said. “I’ve already made him a general.”

  “Him?” Now it was the princess’s turn to look surprised. “But he’s barely twenty. I’m amazed anyone follows him anywhere.”

  “He’s a natural.” Lennart winked at Trystan. “Age has little to do with it. He already commands a combined army of Kronlanders and I’d love to add Podoskans to the mix.”

  “You would, wouldn’t you?”

  Lennart knew she wouldn’t make this easy, but kept his expression bland and pleasant. Trystan had told him that she enjoyed riling people up, and he’d get no special treatment because he was a king.

  “I would,” he said, with a smile.

  The princess turned to Trystan, seated on her left. “What do you have to say for yourself? Everyone tells me you did well in that big battle. Can you do it again?”

  “Certainly.” Trystan affected a bored expression, which Lennart had advised him to try. The princess liked getting under her children’s skins, so perhaps no reaction would discourage her.

  “I still think I ought to send my oldest son,” Edyta said. “He expects it.”

  “He hasn’t been in the military in ten years,” Trystan said. “And you ought to keep him close by, in case Karolyna doesn’t make it.”

  The princess snorted. “That bad, is she? Well, even if she makes it, she’ll have to work hard to get back in my good graces.”

  She turned back to Lennart. “I haven’t decided what I think of you yet. We’ll have a big feast tonight and we’ll see how you hold your liquor. That’s the best measure of a man’s quality.”

  Lennart stood and bowed, pleased that she’d chosen a test so well suited to him. “I look forward to it, Princess.”

  Elektra

  “Your Grace, might I join you?”

  Elektra jumped to her feet as Queen Raysa entered the little pavilion in the palace garden. “Of course,” she said, though these days she craved solitude.

  She wanted to think and pray without ceasing, although neither activity had helped show her what she needed to do. And she was intimidated by the queen with her height and her icy beauty.

  “Leave us,” the queen said to the ladies following her, then lowered herself onto the bench across from Elektra, spreading her richly embroidered skirts out around her.

  In her drab acolyte’s dress, Elektra felt plainer and mousier than usual. She couldn’t imagine what such a glamorous creature might want with her.

  The queen smiled at her. “It seems we’ve both been left behind.”

  “A relief in
my case.” Elektra attempted to smile back. “Since the king would like to return me to my mother.”

  “I understand.” The queen’s dark blue eyes softened. “Though I love my mother, I thank the gods for every day I don’t have to spend time with her.”

  Elektra’s eyes nearly started out of her head. “You don’t get along with your mother either?”

  “I don’t. We never argued much, but only because she wouldn’t allow it. I had to do everything she wanted without question. It sometimes seemed the poor souls in the Novuk castle dungeon had more freedom than I did.”

  “I know what that’s like.” Elektra tried to keep a smile from spreading across her face, but gave up. She enjoyed talking to someone who’d had a similar upbringing.

  Then she realized something else. “We’re cousins, you know. Your father is my uncle, though I’ve never met him.”

  “You’re right.” The queen laughed, a delicate tinkling sound, much like the nearby fountain. “Quite a family we have, isn’t it? I never knew what your mother did to my father, but he’s always hated her.”

  “I doubt she did anything except be her charming self.” Elektra was looking at Raysa in a whole new light, and with considerable excitement. She hoped having a cousin was like having a sister. “She turns everyone into enemies. The only person who can stand her is our Maxima.”

  “My father isn’t the most pleasant person either, and I wondered if all the Inferraras were like that. But you seem perfectly nice. I’m so glad I worked up the courage to talk to you.”

  “You were afraid to talk to me? I’m the least frightening person I know.”

  “Thank the gods for that. There’s no use in being intimidating.”

  “It helps if you’re a ruler. Your own husband is quite scary.”

  “Really?” Raysa laughed again. “I suppose you’re right. I was terrified the first time I saw him, even though he spoke softly and handled me like a skittish horse. Of course, I’d been raised to believe he was a monster who ate Sanovan children for breakfast. But he’s so kind, and not just with me and our little girl. He’s kind to everyone.”