Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4)

by Christina Ochs

  Lennart grinned to himself and reached for the next letter. Natalya seldom wrote and when she did, it was always about money. But this letter wasn’t about money. It was much, much worse.

  He let his head drop to the desk, overwhelmed with sadness. He’d told himself many times he no longer felt anything for Gwynneth, but no previous loss had ever made him so sad.

  Lennart forced himself to reread the letter so he understood what had happened. Natalya was convinced that Teodora was behind it. Lennart resolved there be no mercy, not even if that witch threw herself at his feet.

  “I will kill her myself, and it won’t be quick,” he muttered, then threw the letter down and stood.

  He walked to the window, wondering at his anger. In the next instant the grief struck him so hard he needed to sit again.

  He’d known Gwynneth most of his adult life and had desired her nearly as long. In recent times desire mingled with friendship but if he was honest with himself, he’d always loved her that way at least a little.

  That had faded and softened after his marriage, but he’d never stop caring about her. And now she was gone forever.

  He thought of Kendryk, wherever he was, finally receiving confirmation of his worst fears.

  “Gods help us both,” he said.

  Kendryk

  Kendryk was so eager to leave Isenwald and head for Galladium he nearly decided not to bother negotiating further with Princess Viviane right now. But then he stopped himself. It was bad enough he was abandoning his duty; the least he could do was line up a few more troops for Lennart before leaving.

  He told himself as soon as he’d seen Gwynneth and the children, he’d bring them all back to Kronland with him. Gwynneth would be invaluable in helping persuade the other rulers to help.

  So he insisted on Braeden coming along to dine at the palace that night. “It’ll be dull, but we can arrange a meeting with Princess Viviane on the morrow. Once you’ve talked to her, we’ll leave.”

  “All right,” Braeden said, even as he shook his head. “But I can’t promise I’ll get anywhere with her.”

  Kendryk had sent a message to the princess, letting her know of Braeden’s arrival, and asking if he could join them for dinner. He received a courteous response, and felt even safer, having Braeden along.

  To his, and everyone else’s surprise, Braeden already knew the Countess Biaram.

  It was awkward at first, as Braeden growled, “What are you doing here?” though he relaxed once he heard she was fleeing Teodora’s wrath. After that he spent the rest of the meal pumping the countess for information.

  Kendryk smiled at Princess Viviane. “Might Commander Terris and I have a moment of your time in the morning? I must go west right away, but would like to arrange a few things with you before I go.”

  “Certainly.” The princess smiled at him, broader than she had in some time; maybe ever. It looked odd, and didn’t suit her usually serious face. No doubt she was happy to hear he was leaving already.

  “Why don’t you and the commander come see me in my study at ten? It can be just us, unless you want to include someone else.”

  “Oh no, just us is fine,” Kendryk said. “I promise not to take long.” It was hard to keep from smiling, though he hadn’t been able to share the good news about his family with anyone.

  Braeden had told him Natalya wanted to keep the whole thing quiet until she’d worked out what Teodora was up to, and Kendryk was happy to go along with that. Surely by the time he reached Galladium, Natalya would have accomplished her mission.

  He scarcely slept that night, feeling both joy and nervous anticipation. Again it had been far too long since he’d seen his children, who were growing up without him. He hadn’t ever seen the baby, well over a year old by now.

  Kendryk finally fell into a fitful sleep just a few hours before dawn, not caring how tired he’d be. He’d ride without resting all the way to Galladium if Braeden let him.

  Braeden had wanted to spend the night in town, but Kendryk insisted on keeping him close by, so he saw him as soon as he left his tent after dressing.

  “How long do you think we’ll be?” Braeden asked. “I want to send a message to my people inside the city, so they can meet us on the road.”

  “Only an hour, I hope,” Kendryk said. “We’ll make our case for Kronland’s security, and remind her that Lennart is likely to be at the gates of Atlona before winter. We can make it clear that those who contribute to his victory in greater numbers can expect to be rewarded accordingly.”

  “Maybe you should do the talking,” Braeden said.

  “If you like.” Kendryk smiled at him. It was hard to stop, knowing they’d be on their way in a matter of hours. “You can just glower at her like you did when you first saw that poor countess. I think you scared the poor woman out of her wits.” He chuckled at the memory.

  “She’s one of the last people I expected to see here, and I still don’t like it.” Braeden frowned. “Her tale seemed plausible enough, but she’s known to be a slippery and accomplished liar. I don’t trust her for a second.”

  “Even if she’s lying, what can she do?” Kendryk asked as they rode toward the palace. The parade ground lay nearly half a league off, so riding was faster.

  The same thirty guards followed them, though this time Merton insisted on leading them personally, after ordering the camp taken down and made ready to leave. “She has brought no escort.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t need to. What if she’s turned the princess against you?”

  “Oh, I doubt that.” Though he didn’t much like Princess Viviane, she had no reputation for treachery, even to her enemies. “The princess signed an agreement with Lennart, and she takes these things seriously.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Braeden said. He still didn’t seem convinced, but Kendryk reckoned he could let Braeden do the worrying. There was no better bodyguard.

  Kendryk would concentrate on charming the princess, then getting out of here as quickly as possible.

  Gwynneth

  Fortunately, no one guarded the stables. Almost everyone was occupied chasing Devyn and Stella into the woods. Gwynneth waited at the door until she saw the flickering torches disappear into the trees.

  For the past several nights, she had started a new routine. Rather than going straight to bed, the children all piled into her chamber for a bedtime story. Often, they fell asleep while she was telling it, and she had the guards help her carry them back to the nursery.

  She had noticed that the guards were especially relaxed when the children were with her. So it was an easy matter to help Devyn and Stella climb out the window, count to one hundred twice, then run out of her room.

  “They’ve both gone,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. They fell asleep before I did, but when I woke up, they’d disappeared. They must have climbed out the window.”

  The surprise on the guard’s face was soon replaced by grim determination. “Don’t you worry, Your Grace,” he said. “We’ll find them.”

  “Thank you.” Gwynneth waited for him to disappear down the stairs, then ran back into her room. She threw off her dressing gown to reveal shirt and breeches underneath, then grabbed her cloak and the bundle of food she’d put together.

  She kissed a sleeping Renata on the forehead and gathered Andres into her arms. “I’m so proud of you,” she said.

  “Please be careful, Mama.” Andres’ voice wobbled, though she could tell he was trying not to cry. “And please hurry back as soon as you can.”

  “I will. I promise. Now take the baby back to the nursery.”

  When the guards returned from their fruitless search, Andres would tell them Gwynneth had gone to look for the children herself. With any luck the confusion that caused would give her a long head start.

  When the only guard remaining at the door wandered toward the woods to see what was going on, Gwynneth darted across the courtyard to the small stable. She didn’t dare use a light, and h
oped she could saddle two horses in the dark.

  There were twelve in here, all belonging to the guards. Those men had been picked to guard the Maxima from the finest families in Galladium, so it was a point of pride to own a superior horse.

  Gwynneth let her eyes adjust, found the tack room and lugged first one, then another saddle to the back stalls. The first horse bucked and shied away when she approached with the saddle, so she tried the next one. She strapped it on clumsily; they could adjust it later.

  Getting the bridle on was easier. Once she’d saddled them both, she opened all the other stalls, and slapped the horses on the rump to get them to leave. A few went reluctantly, but the rest trotted joyfully into the night. She hoped it would take a long time to round them up.

  That done, she mounted the larger of the two horses and grabbed the other one by the reins. At the stable door, she peered toward the lodge. It stood dark and silent; it looked like the horses had gone another way.

  She urged hers to a trot and headed down the road. A quarter league away, she stopped and whistled softly. She hoped this was the right spot.

  She almost whistled again when she heard a rustle in the brush and Devyn whispered, “We’re here.”

  Gwynneth breathed in, relieved, then waited for Devyn to mount and pull Stella up behind him. Stella rode well for her age, but the horses here were all too big for her to handle alone.

  Once they reached the main road, they turned west. Gwynneth hoped her pursuers would head east, the way she needed to go.

  She wasn’t certain of their location, since the guards wouldn’t give her much information, but Devyn had assured her that the western road followed the river to a mill. From there he could guide them through the woods the way he had come with Braeden.

  “Those guards won’t know about it,” he said with a disdainful sniff. “They’re all from the city so they’ll stay on the road.”

  Gwynneth hoped he was right about the time needed to reach the road to Allaux on the other side of the forest. She’d packed enough food for two, maybe three days, and Devyn had assured her they’d find water on the way.

  But after that, she’d need to find a town, a place to buy food, powder for Devyn’s pistols, and get directions to the Kronland border. Gwynneth had never been on her own like this, out in the wilderness with two children to look after, unassisted.

  Before long, they reached the mill, a dark silhouette in the starlight. Gwynneth heard a waterwheel.

  “Will anyone see us?” she whispered as they turned toward it.

  “Everyone in there is dead,” Devyn said matter-of-factly. “That Daciana person killed them.”

  He ignored Gwynneth’s shudder. “Now we cross this little bridge and follow the river into the woods. No one will expect us to go this way.”

  Once they entered the woods, it became too dark to continue. So they stopped and made camp at the edge. The night was cool, but each of them had a cloak and they were tired. Frogs chirped by the river and a soft breeze rustled the trees.

  As Gwynneth lay on the hard ground, listening to the even breathing of the children, who’d fallen asleep immediately, she felt calm for the first time in months.

  Elektra

  Considering how she’d entered Heidenhof the previous winter, Elektra was sad to leave it. Even though Edric had turned on her now, her time here had been mostly happy.

  She’d been free to wander the lovely palace and its gardens, read anything she wanted, and meet the interesting people who came to dine with the Maximus.

  But the worst of it was leaving Raysa. It didn’t help that Raysa started crying when Elektra told her what Edric wanted to do, and then, when Elektra’s tears started, cried even harder.

  But through all the weeping, she’d still managed to get Elektra out of town before Edric could force her to agree to anything awful.

  “I tried to reason with him,” Raysa said. “But he’s in terrible shape. You’d think that poor little duchess had been his own daughter. He didn’t want to talk to me, but I made him, since I’m the queen.”

  Raysa managed a watery smile. “I pretended I was my mother for about two minutes, and that was enough.”

  “But not enough to change his mind.” Elektra hadn’t left Raysa’s room since she first arrived, and Estenorian, rather than temple guards stood at the door.

  The Maximus was so angry and so cold, Elektra feared he might send her to Atlona as a prisoner, a large sign bearing the words “Heretic” hanging from her neck. Her mother already didn’t trust her, and would probably believe any story Edric told.

  And calling her a Quadrene was actually true. The best Elektra could hope for in that case was a speedy execution, and knowing her mother, that was unlikely.

  Raysa sighed. “I convinced him it wouldn’t make sense for you to turn up in Atlona as a Quadrene. Even if you pretended you weren’t, it’s still far too risky. If you were killed, Lennart would be furious.”

  “At least someone would be.” Elektra wondered if maybe it wouldn’t be better for her to just die soon, so she’d stop annoying everyone, herself included. If she could do it for a good cause, so much the better.

  “Stop that!” Raysa glared at her. “I would be so upset. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  “Really?” In spite of her terrible situation, a ray of happiness peeked into Elektra’s heart.

  “Yes, really. I’ve had such a nice time with you, and I hate to see you go.”

  “So you couldn’t persuade Edric to let me stay until Lennart can negotiate with my mother?”

  “No, but I’ve come up with something nearly as good. I’m not sure that Edric has lost his mind exactly, but I don’t believe he can make the wisest decision at the moment.

  “It makes more sense for you to join Lennart now. You’ve converted and you’re an ally, and there’s no reason you can’t make plans with him. So I’ve ordered Edric to release you into Lennart’s custody.”

  Raysa raised her chin, looking pleased with herself.

  Elektra wished for just a small amount of that confidence, though she knew it had been hard-won.

  “And he agreed?”

  “He had to. He grumbled a great deal but I told him you are technically Lennart’s prisoner, and he would back me on this.”

  “Thank you.” Tears filled Elektra’s eyes. Now she’d converted, surely Lennart wouldn’t send her back to her mother? When she saw him again, Elektra promised herself she’d be brave enough to remind him that she’d make an excellent ally.

  “I hate to see you go.” Raysa sighed. “But it’s for the best. We’ll write to each other.”

  “I’d love that.” Elektra smiled, thinking Raysa had no idea how much she wanted that. “So what happens next?”

  “You leave in the morning to join Lennart in Oltena. I’ve spoken with General Kalstrom, whose army is still in the area and he’s willing to spare several hundred troops for your escort. You should be safe until you reach Lennart’s care.”

  Then they cried all over each other for quite some time before Elektra went to pack. She wanted to say goodbye to the Maximus, but considering how their last meeting had gone, left him a heartfelt note instead, thanking him for his kindness. She was sure his strange behavior was due to grief, but she didn’t want to take the risk of meeting with him, especially now that Raysa had made arrangements contradicting his.

  Early the next morning, well before sunrise, Raysa accompanied Elektra to the stable-yard where a horse stood ready for her.

  “This is Major Silberg,” she said, introducing her to a small, wiry man with a stern, lined face. “He will take you safely to the king.”

  “Thank you again, for everything.”

  Elektra and Raysa embraced once more and Elektra kept the tears at bay until Heidenhof was behind them. To her relief, Major Silberg pretended not to notice.

  Maryna

  It was hard to change clothes with cannon practically exploding in her ears. Maryna’s ha
nds shook so badly she couldn’t even fasten the buttons going up the front of her gown, so Natalya had to do it for her. Maryna and Natalya shared a maid, but the young woman had already been sent off to hide somewhere in the hold.

  Though Natalya was pale, her hands were steady. Once she’d fastened up Maryna’s gown, she turned her around, sat her down on the swinging cot and arranged her hair.

  The guns hammered away, and Maryna took comfort in the sound. “Surely they’ll stop the pirates?” she asked, turning to face Natalya once she’d fastened her hair into a loose knot.

  “I hope so.” Natalya didn’t even try to smile, but patted Maryna’s hand. “If they don’t, you must let me do the talking.”

  Maryna didn’t mind that one bit, and by the time the guns fell silent, she felt calmer. That didn’t last; the silence was broken by shouts, the sound of fighting, and feet hammering the deck above. The guns hadn’t done their job, but the sailors still might.

  Maryna thought of Dolf and wanted to cry. He was tough, and had been in plenty of fights, but he was old. Hopefully not too old to take care of himself.

  Those noises went on for a long time, but at last the fighting came to an end. Maryna clutched Natalya’s arm, and they waited together, silent.

  At last, footsteps came down the ladder, then thumped on the boards of the corridor leading to their cabin.

  “Courage,” Natalya said, pulling Maryna to her feet.

  Someone pounded on the door and Natalya opened it. The cabin was so small, she needed only one step to reach it, then she pushed Maryna behind her.

  A man stepped in. Maryna had to bite down on her tongue, and knew she wouldn’t be able to keep the horror out of her eyes. She’d never seen anyone so ugly; ugly to the point of monstrous.

  The man wasn’t much taller than Maryna, but very broad. He was covered in black hair. Greasy strands fell past his shoulders, and a long, curly beard hung nearly to his waist. The beard was full of crumbs of food, and Maryna thought she might have spotted something crawling in it.