Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4)

by Christina Ochs

  “Where are those chandeliers from?” Teodora paused, her head tilted back. “Is that crystal?”

  “Yes, those are crystal chandeliers, made by a Sanovan artisan who works for the Galladian court. Getting him to make those for me was quite a coup.” The princess smirked.

  “Remarkable. You must give me his name so I can order some for the Palais Arden.” Redecorating her own palace was far down on Teodora’s list of ways to spend her nonexistent funds. In fact, if she had possessed such items, she’d have to sell them to pay for a bigger army. But it didn’t hurt to let her supporters think she was laden with coin.

  “Of course.” The princess flushed with pleasure. “Here we are now.”

  She seemed nervous as they approached the drawing room door, and Teodora suspected that Mattila had already intimidated the silly woman. The door swung open, and Teodora walked in, a polite smile on her face.

  “What are you doing here?” Mattila snarled.

  Braeden

  The change in Braeden’s fortunes was dizzying, even for him. One day he’d been a prisoner, despised across Kronland, the next, Princess Gwynneth’s most trusted companion, lodged in one of the finest rooms in the guest wing. In honor of the change, he took a long bath and had his hair and beard trimmed by Princess Viviane’s palace barber.

  He had to confess to being shocked by the change in Gwynneth, though he’d expected it, considering. She looked far more beautiful and pulled-together than she had when he’d left her in Galladium, but held it all tight under a veneer of tension and barely repressed pain. He feared the smallest thing would make her snap.

  Braeden knew the feeling, and understood the frenetic activity she had undertaken was necessary right now if she wanted to keep her sanity.

  He was relieved that she didn’t seem to hold him the least bit responsible for his failure to keep Kendryk safe, while she turned her considerable anger on Princess Viviane and Countess Biaram.

  Devyn and Stella trailed after Braeden like a pair of puppies. Trisa didn’t like leaving him out of her sight either, so he spent his first days of freedom feeling alternately coddled and smothered.

  The archduchess was a different matter. Braeden sensed her confusion and embarrassment, so let her be as much as he could. He didn’t see a need for any further conversation and reckoned the time they had to spend together in public would be more than enough.

  Once he’d had a few days to rest, Gwynneth called for him. She’d taken over Princess Viviane’s palace, which now resembled an armed camp with the borrowed army guarding it fiercely.

  Braeden found it funny that Gwynneth had worried they might not follow her when clearly at least half the soldiers were in love with her, and the other half regarded her as a tragic, heroic figure: he’d heard whispers of Vica made flesh.

  He met Gwynneth in the library, which was still being put back together after a ransacking for incriminating documents.

  “I should have taken the study,” she said, after showing him to a seat, “but I couldn’t.” She shuddered and stared at her clasped hands in her lap for a moment, then looked up at Braeden.

  His heart clenched at the devastation in her eyes.

  “I want you to take me there and show me exactly what happened and where.”

  “Are you sure, Your Grace?” He had no great wish to do so.

  She stared at him, her lip trembling. “Best to get it over with, don’t you think?” Rising from her seat, she took a deep breath. “And I must go see his body. Will you come with me?”

  This promised to be an especially unpleasant day, but Braeden understood it needed to be done. “All right,” he said, “let’s do it.”

  Together they walked to the study. The door was shut, but not locked, so Braeden opened it when he noticed Gwynneth hesitating. The room was cold and gloomy, though winter sunlight streamed in through the windows.

  “It was hot that day,” Braeden said. “She offered us a cold drink. I waited for her to drink first, and once she did ...” He hadn’t realized it would be so hard to talk about this. He took a deep breath. “I thought it would be safe to drink once she did.”

  Gwynneth stared at a stain on the carpet.

  “I’m so sorry I failed him,” he said. “Failed you.”

  “You didn’t.” Gwynneth’s voice was barely a whisper. “Is this the spot?”

  Braeden nodded. “I pulled him out of his chair, but it was too late.”

  “I suppose she wanted to get it over with quickly,” Gwynneth murmured, taking Braeden’s hand. Hers was ice cold. “I’ve seen enough.”

  Braeden was afraid to meet her eyes, but forced himself. When he did, he saw they were dry, though her face was pinched and strained.

  “To the crypt?”

  She nodded, and took his arm, leaning on him rather heavily as they went back out into the corridor, then followed it to Princess Viviane’s chapel. This stood empty, though candles burned beneath Vica’s icon.

  “It’ll be down below,” Gwynneth said, leading Braeden to a door beside the altar.

  He grabbed a candle from the altar and followed her down the stairs. It was warm down here, the air unpleasantly close. It was so dark, Braeden didn’t know how they’d find him, but Gwynneth seemed to know what to do.

  She took the candle from him and held it up, lighting the marble plaques lining the wall.

  Braeden read the names of one Kasbirk after another, going back over four hundred years.

  Gwynneth kept walking, her shoes tapping on the flagstones, the light of the candle casting a halo around her. “He’ll be here, with the recent ones.” She stopped in front of a blank plaque.

  “This ought to be it,” she said, putting the candle in a sconce on the wall nearby. “Can you help me?”

  Braeden put his fingertips in the crack between the plaque and the wall and pulled. It came away easily, and he set it on the floor. A dark hole yawned beyond that.

  “We can pull him out,” Gwynneth said, already fumbling at something. “Here.” She guided Braeden’s hand to the edge of what felt like a shelf.

  He pulled, and the shelf slid out, whispering along a rail of some sort. Braeden held his breath, not knowing what to expect.

  Gwynneth’s face was in shadow, but the light from the sconce was enough.

  For a moment, neither of them spoke. Braeden had feared something awful, some horrid decomposition, but Kendryk looked exactly as he had the day he died.

  “Do you want me to leave you?” he asked.

  Gwynneth had been looking down, her hand resting on Kendryk’s chest. “No,” she said. “There’s no point. I know he’s gone.”

  They stood there silent a few moments longer.

  “He’s still so beautiful,” Gwynneth said. “Just like the day we first met.” Now tears rolled down her face. “I hadn’t seen him in a few years and thought maybe he’d look a little older. His life had been so hard, you’d think it would have showed ...” She started sobbing, one hand over her mouth.

  Braeden stepped around the shelf until he stood beside Gwynneth, pulling her close.

  “It’s unfair, isn’t it?” he murmured, stroking her hair, while she cried into his shoulder. “The gods take the good and leave the evil ones.” He thought of Janna and his children, sacrificed so Teodora could enjoy a momentary victory.

  At that, Gwynneth pulled away, raising her tear-streaked face to him. “The evil ones might still be alive. But if I have anything to say about it, that won’t be much longer.”

  She leaned over, placing a soft kiss on Kendryk’s forehead and looked at Braeden again. “Let’s put him back. Then we’ll make sure those who did this receive justice.”

  Maryna

  Natalya said the captain would help them soon and they must be ready. Maryna had taken her turn on the deck with Count Vega, who’d behaved rather well until the end of their walk.

  She had smiled at him and said, “This was lovely. I hope the Maxima will let us do it again.”

/>   “I think she will,” Vega said, and in one smooth move, pinned her against the rail.

  Maryna looked around frantically, but no one paid them any attention. “I ought to go now,” she said, her voice trembling.

  “Oh my dear, I told you I would never hurt you, and I won’t.” Vega stroked her hair, looking into her eyes, even as his other arm held her middle tight against the rail. “I’ll just take a little kiss to tide me over until the next time we meet.”

  “I really shouldn’t—” Maryna began, but was cut off by his lips on hers. Once she realized it was happening and she couldn’t stop it, it wasn’t so bad.

  His lips were soft, and he stopped pushing her, slipping an arm around her instead. She was wondering if she might kiss him back, when he broke it off.

  “That was nice, wasn’t it?” He smiled at her.

  “I d-don’t know,” she stammered, which was the truth. “I’d better go, or the Maxima will be worried.”

  He released her with another smile, and she slipped out of his arms and ran until she reached the hatch. Once she saw he wasn’t coming after her, she went down the ladder more slowly. She needed to talk to Natalya.

  “You did wonderfully,” Natalya said, after hearing all about Maryna’s adventures in kissing. “And you shouldn’t have to do it again. In fact, I doubt you’ll see him after tonight. Thanks to you, I had plenty of time to talk to the captain and it’s all arranged.

  “After dinner, Vega and the rest of the guards will be served special ale that will put them to sleep. Tommaso—I mean, the captain—will change course for the Galladian coast. By the time the others wake up, he will have put us ashore.”

  “And then what?” Maryna was both nervous and excited.

  “We find the nearest temple and ask for help. They can send a message to King Gauvain, though with any luck, they’ll give us enough supplies to make our own way for the first leg of the journey. Winter is coming and I don’t want to delay any further. For all I know, war already rages in southeastern Galladium, which is where we’ll end up.”

  So even then, they might not be safe. Still, Maryna packed her little bundle and left it on her cot before going to dinner.

  Vega was already there, and kissed her hand, his eyes full of promise. Maryna felt a little bad for deceiving him, but she had to get away. Though she liked him well enough, and appreciated the kissing practice, she wasn’t in love with him and needed to go home.

  As had been usual these past few days, Natalya and the captain were very occupied with each other, murmuring so softly that Maryna couldn’t figure out what they were talking about.

  “I don’t know what’s so funny,” she said to Vega, when Natalya laughed her low, throaty laugh after some sally of the captain’s.

  “Love can be funny,” Vega said.

  “Love?” Maryna looked at Natalya, then back at Vega. “I doubt she’s in love.”

  “The captain might be.”

  “Oh well yes, men fall in love with the Maxima often. She’s used to it.”

  “It seems so. Personally, I don’t find it attractive when a woman is so sure of her charms. I much prefer sweetness and innocence.”

  Maryna blushed under his intense gaze. Being preferred over Natalya was flattering.

  The dinner had seemed to drag out, and Maryna drank more wine than she normally did. Maybe it was just as well. She’d fall asleep easily, and wake up on the Galladian shore. She bade Count Vega an extra-affectionate good night, since she doubted she’d see him again.

  “Are you excited?” Natalya asked when they’d reached their cabin. “I’m excited, and sleepy.”

  “Me too.” Maryna yawned. “I’ll just sleep in my clothes.”

  “Good idea. Oh, that poor Count Vega.” Natalya giggled as she lay on top of her covers. “You’ve bewitched him, I think.”

  “I don’t know what I did, except be nice to him.”

  “For some men, that’s enough when it comes from a sweet young thing with a pretty face. You’ve done well and I’m proud. Your mother would be proud too.” Natalya’s words slurred. “Good night, love.”

  “Good night,” Maryna lay on top of her covers, smiling to herself, thinking the next time she opened her eyes, they’d be near freedom.

  She awoke much too soon by Natalya shaking her. “Get up, hurry,” she said.

  Maryna sat up. Sunlight streamed through the small window. It must be much later than she’d expected.

  “Are we there yet?” She yawned, feeling like her head was full of cotton.

  “Something’s gone wrong.” Natalya paced the tiny cabin. “It must be after noon, and we’re locked in. See?” She jiggled the latch.

  “Oh, gods.” Maryna’s heart plunged into her feet. Suddenly the ship’s swaying made her sick. “What will we do?”

  “Wait to find out what’s happened.” Natalya ran to the little window and looked out. “We’re sailing into a port.”

  She couldn’t say any more before the cabin door opened, and Count Vega stood there, shaking his head.

  “Come, my lovelies,” he said. “It’s time we got you away from the weak-willed Captain Monforte.”

  Gwynneth

  Once she’d talked to Braeden and seen Kendryk’s body, Gwynneth found it easier to wrap things up in Isenwald. She was anxious to return to Terragand, but getting justice was more important.

  She needed to talk to Braeden about what would come after that, but felt awkward about it, something she was unaccustomed to. Still, the best way to deal with that was to resume the relationship as it had been.

  Once she had learned more about Princess Viviane’s involvement, Gwynneth sent for Braeden. He came to the library, looking a little nervous, though he visibly relaxed when Gwynneth smiled at him.

  She shuffled some papers on the desk and said, “I am hoping a trial will not be needed, and I’m glad of it.”

  Braeden looked surprised. “You expect a confession?”

  “I do. Princess Viviane is stubborn, but I’m putting together all of the incriminating documents and plan to present them to her all at once. In addition, Countess Biaram has been cooperative in the extreme.”

  “I’ll bet,” Braeden said.”What’s her story?”

  “The order to subvert as many Kronland rulers as possible came from Teodora in person, and the countess was authorized to sign secret treaties on her behalf.”

  “Who else did she get?”

  “No one.” A hint of smile passed Gwynneth’s lips. “She tried it on Prince Eldrid in Lantura, but he was having none of it.”

  “Good old Prince Eldrid.” Braeden chuckled. “He’s a pain, but completely honest.”

  “I hope so. I’d thought Princess Viviane honest as well, though I never liked her.”

  “Always been a cold fish,” Braeden agreed, “but that’s no crime.”

  “No, it’s not, but the treaty she signed with the countess is pure treachery, especially since she was already bound to Lennart. You realize there is a clause against secret treaties in the Kronland charter?”

  “I didn’t know. Though I suppose murder will be a crime no matter what any charter says.”

  “Indeed.” Gwynneth took a deep breath. “I hate to ask it of you, but will you be willing to give an official statement to the Maxima? Just telling what happened and who was present. We’re still looking for all of the guards involved, so we might need your help identifying those we have in custody.”

  “I’m happy to talk to the Maxima,” Braeden said, “But I might not be able to identify all the guards. Several were behind me.”

  “I see. I expect the countess can help with that.”

  “What does she get for her cooperation?”

  “Her life, possibly,” Gwynneth said, “though I haven’t thought of a way to keep her permanently out of trouble. She seems to be one of those who always finds it. I’m considering imprisonment or exile, though I don’t know where.”

  “Transportation to a Maladene p
enal colony?” Braeden suggested.

  “Brilliant. I’ll keep it in mind.” Gwyneth paused, a little worried how Braeden might react to her next request. “Have you given any thought to what you want to do next?” she asked.

  Braeden shrugged. “I’ll probably go find Lennart, though I’m at your disposal if you need me.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” Devyn had pleaded with her to bring Braeden on as his military trainer, but Gwynneth had thought of a better use for him. “I’m in desperate need of your services right here when this is all done.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I need to leave someone in charge of Isenwald until I sort out what to do with it, and it needs to be someone I can trust. There’s no one alive except for Edric I trust as much as you.”

  Braeden looked stunned, then shook his head. “The folk here won’t accept me as leader, since I’m a commoner.”

  “That I can remedy, and I soon will.” Gwynneth raised an eyebrow but didn’t elaborate. What she planned for him, he had earned. “But you’re right that someone of impressive rank needs to rule here, if only temporarily. I have a person in mind, but they’ll be a figurehead while you do the real work of ruling.”

  “I don’t know how to run a household, let alone an entire kingdom. I want to help you in any way I can, but I’m the wrong man for the job. Besides, I doubt the people here will go along with this meekly.”

  She’d expected him to protest, so she was prepared. “You’d be surprised. I’ve spoken to Princess Viviane’s closest advisers, and with one exception, they are happy to go along with my plan.”

  “That’s what they’re telling you while you hold the power of life and death over them.”

  “I’m not that naive. That’s why I need you here. You’re trustworthy and have excellent instincts. If someone is up to no good, you’ll figure it out soon enough. And I’m hoping they’ll be suitably dazzled by the figurehead I propose.”

  She took a deep breath. “I know I’m asking a great deal of you, though I’ll do my best to make it worth your while. And I’ll make it as short a commission as I can mange.”