“This might be the strangest thing I’ve ever heard.” Trystan turned to Anton and Karil. “Does any of that make sense to you?”
Anton shook his head. “Last I heard, the archduchess was Edric’s prisoner and Braeden hated her.”
“I still hate her,” Karil offered.
“We’d better go see him,” Trystan said. “Is he staying at the palace?”
“Gods no,” the innkeep said. “He’s taken a house here in town. I’ll take you to him in the morning if you like, though I’m warning you, he’s a busy man.”
“He’ll see us,” Trystan said dryly. “I’m fairly sure of it.”
Lennart
Lennart had taken a leisurely pace heading west from Richenbruck, inspecting his troops in their winter quarters, and spreading coin among the local population in attempt to build goodwill. They took the money readily enough, but the surly looks remained. So he was only about fifty leagues from the city when Isenberg’s messenger found him.
Lennart took the note and read it in the saddle. “Gather up my guard,” he said to the officer riding on his right, “And give the order to muster all our troops in the area.”
The officer shouted the orders then turned back to Lennart. “Is it Mattila?” he asked, wide-eyed.
Lennart shook his head. “It’s Teodora, of all people. Who would have thought she’d leave the capital?”
“That seems reckless,” the officer said.
“It is, but like her.” Lennart couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it coming, since he’d learned to expect the unexpected where Teodora was concerned. He looked over the message again. Isenberg didn’t seem worried, since her scouts had counted only a few thousand enemy.
But Lennart worried about something else. The local population might well embrace Teodora’s troops, and then, they’d have a real problem. He needed to squash that right away.
Lennart rode to the nearest inn, and cleared an end of a table in the dining room for writing space. He wrote a message, telling Isenberg to stay put, and to suggest a new commander for the Obenstein. He wanted Lofbrok in the field.
A fresh messenger tore back to Richenbruck, but Lennart wasn’t far behind. It was amazing how much better he felt now at the prospect of action. Sitting around never seemed to do him any good. Perhaps he’d dawdled because he was hoping something like this would happen, and he was grateful to Teodora for being so crazy.
By the time he neared Richenbruck, all of the Estenorian soldiers in winter quarters near the city had mobilized.
“I’ve already sent a message to Lantura so our people there come this way soon,” Isenberg said when she rode out to meet him. “Though I’ve heard odd rumors from that direction,” she added, frowning.
“Odd how?”
“Odd as in, some of the western towns in Lantura, and even Tirilis have Mattila’s troops quartered on them.”
“That is odd. Maybe she’s passing through?”
“Might be, but it’s a strange place to stop. If she meant to get to Brandana, she’d be close by now. Why delay with winter coming on?”
“I don’t like it,” Lennart said. “What do you know about Teodora’s force?”
“It’s not a big one.” They were already passing through the city gates, headed for Isenberg’s headquarters. “But it’s led by Janos Rykter. Sound familiar?”
“Not sure. Moraltan?”
“Most likely. I’m sure that’s an easy place for Teodora to recruit with no sign of the rebels from a few years back.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter how she got them.” Lennart shook his head, and dismounted as they rode into the courtyard. “We need to get rid of them.”
“Lofbrok will meet us here soon,” Isenberg said. “He’s putting the finishing touches on his fortifications and giving detailed instructions to the man he’s leaving in charge.”
“Let’s wait for him,” Lennart said, “I don’t want to go through all of this twice.”
Lofbrok arrived within the hour, looking grubby but enthusiastic. “I’m happy to get out of that fort. No place in there that isn’t damp.”
“You’ll miss it in a few days.” Lennart clapped him on the shoulder. It was nice to be among his generals again. Even a few days on his own hadn’t felt right. “A tent will be much colder.”
“But we’ll be on the move.” Lofbrok grinned. “I swear I grow moss after a few days of sitting around.”
“So that’s what’s been itching.” Lennart squirmed in his seat while Lofbrok guffawed.
“Thank the gods I’ll be rid of you two soon.” Isenberg rolled her eyes.
“You’ll miss us,” Lennart said, “but I need you here. Our base will be here in town, and we’ll send our wounded this way. Can you make sure the hospitals are well-supplied?”
Isenberg muttered something about death-traps and scribbled on a sheet of paper, then said, “I’ve sent out scouts to track Rykter’s movements. So far he hasn’t attacked us overtly, though any troops going out on their own come to a bad end. We’re not sure if he’s responsible, or if its the unfriendly local population.”
“Could be both,” Lennart suggested. “If he’s smart, Rykter will encourage the bad behavior. I don’t want to come down too hard on civilians, but let’s make it clear that anyone who’s caught harming one of ours is harmed in return. We won’t retaliate blindly or unfairly, but we will retaliate.”
Lennart didn’t have room for his whole army inside the city, though keeping them in the countryside left them vulnerable. But he’d leave them there for now and attack the problem at the source. He’d start with Rykter, and work his way down to the civilians if they misbehaved.
“Oh, and I want to know where Teodora is,” he added. “If we could stumble across her, that would be the best prize of all.”
“We’re watching,” Isenberg said. “Folk say she crossed the mountains in a coach, but that hasn’t been seen in a while. Might be she’s on horseback.”
“Well, she’s no shrinking violet, so with any luck we’ll spot her and take her, dead or alive.”
Braeden
“Three young gentlemen to see you, sir,” Braeden’s assistant said. Karla Moser, a serious woman, was the daughter of a Kronfels merchant and had come highly recommended by the Maxima. So far, she’d more than earned her pay as far as Braeden was concerned.
“What do they want?” Braeden put a finger on the column he’d been eying and looked up. He was terrible at figures, but felt he ought to try before handing the ledger off to Karla in defeat. Gwynneth had insisted he learn to audit accounts before she left.
“They say they’re friends of yours. The oldest of the three is a Trystan Martinek. I take it you know him,” Karla added with a smile, as Braeden jumped out of his chair.
“I do.” He smiled for the first time in days. “Send them in and rustle up some coffee. Oh, and clear my appointments for the next hour.”
Karla raised her eyebrows, but left, saying nothing. A moment later, three sturdy young fellows trooped in and Braeden thought his face might split from grinning.
Trystan offered a formal bow, saying “Good day, Count Terris,” with an ironic grin, while Karil flung himself at Braeden, unabashed as always.
Braeden put an arm around him, while the other one reached for Anton. “Come here,” he said. “Never thought I’d see you again, you rascal.”
Anton smiled and came near, putting an arm around Braeden’s shoulder. He was nearly as tall. “We came to rescue you,” he said with a laugh.
“Join the crowd.” Braeden grinned. “But you’re too late.”
Just then Karla returned with a coffee tray, her eyes wide. “Goodness, you really are old friends.”
Braeden was glad of the interruption, since he’d felt himself becoming shaky. He was thrilled to see all of them, and touched they’d come so far to help him. He untangled himself and introduced everyone to Karla, who looked a bit pole-axed once she got a good look at Anton.
“I-I
’d best get back to work,” she said.
Anton’s eyes followed her, and once the door shut behind her he said, “Pretty girl.”
“Girl.” Braeden snorted. “She’s thirty-four, so too old for you.”
“But not for you.” Anton’s devilish grin was back. The first impression he’d made on Braeden aside from his striking looks had been that of melancholy, so it was good to see him smile the way he used to.
“Too young for me,” Braeden said. “And too smart. Her brain runs circles around me all day long. Now sit, all of you. Karil, you pour the coffee, and Anton don’t eat all the cake.”
They pulled chairs up close to Braeden’s desk, and once refreshments had been passed around, Trystan said, “You must tell us everything that happened, from the beginning. We heard about Prince Kendryk and your trial while we were in Tirilis and worried we’d be too late.”
“You would have been,” Braeden said, “if not for Princess Gwynneth.” Anton was clearly about to burst with curiosity, so he backed up to tell about his trip to Galladium and all that had happened with Daciana Tomescu. His coffee grew cold while he talked, but his audience was riveted.
“Extraordinary,” Trystan said, when he’d finished. “And now you’re in charge of a kingdom. Do you work well with the archduchess?” he added with a laugh.
“Well enough,” Braeden said. “We stay mostly clear of each other.”
“Always helpful amongst colleagues,” Trystan murmured.
“But she’ll be useful,” Braeden said. “It’ll be good to have someone here who knows how to deal with courtiers and snooty nobles once Princess Gwynneth leaves. No offense,” he added, remembering too late that Trystan was a duke himself.
Braeden sighed. “And there’s trouble aplenty with that lot. There’s also rumors of the peasants getting bold, so I’ll have to discourage that. But enough about me. I want to know what you are up to and what Lennart’s doing. Is he in Olvisya yet?”
What followed was a rather disjointed version of the battle for Richenbruck, with all three boys talking over each other. Braeden was pleased they’d all done well, and that Anton especially had distinguished himself.
“Sounds like another famous victory,” he said, when they’d finished. “Wish I’d been there.” So far he’d missed all of Lennart’s major battles. Some ally he was turning out to be. “What do you plan to do next?”
“Look for Princess Maryna,” Anton said. Braeden had told him she’d gone to Norovaea with Natalya, but hadn’t been heard from since. “Someone has to know something. I’ll bet they’ve received word in Galladium and just aren’t talking. And besides, I owe Natalya a favor, too.” He turned to Trystan. “Please sir, can we?”
Braeden realized Trystan was Anton’s commanding officer.
“Hm,” Trystan said. “Lennart shouldn’t need us before spring, since I doubt he’ll invade Olvisya this late in the year. I suppose we might go to Galladium and try to pick up a trail. I imagine Princess Gwynneth will be very pleased with us if we can locate her daughter.” He looked eager to get into Gwynneth’s good graces, as many men did.
Trystan turned toward Braeden. “We hate to go without you, but you’re needed here. Perhaps you can put in a good word with King Gauvain for us?”
“I hate to be stuck here while you’re off having fun, but I’ll send along a note for the king, and Queen Zofya. She’d become good friends with little Maryna, so she might be happy to help.
“Now while I work on that,” Braeden went on, “I want the lot of you to go visit Princess Gwynneth and pay your respects. She’ll be thrilled that you plan to search for Maryna, and gods know the poor woman could use good news these days. She’ll put in a good word for you with the king as well.”
He didn’t want them to go, but promised he’d join them all at the palace for dinner. A celebration was definitely in order.
Teodora
“Is that any way to greet your sovereign?” Teodora stopped in the middle of the room, while Princess Alarys fluttered about anxiously.
“What did you say to my son?” Mattila wasn’t moving, but there was no way Teodora would take so much as a step closer.
“Oh, just that his little friend Aksel Roussay is living in the Arnfels.” If Teodora waited any longer for Mattila to bow, it would become embarrassing, so she let Princess Alarys show her to a chair near the fire.
“I’m sure he was behind the escape anyway, since your son isn’t very, you know...” Teodora trailed off with a knowing smirk. Surely it bothered the general that her only child was such a useless fop.
“Huh.” Mattila took a seat at last, likely so Princess Alarys would stop clucking and flapping her hands at her. “To be honest, in your condition I’m surprised you ventured to leave the capital. Aren’t you still afraid of Lennart?”
“He’s gone.” Teodora leaned forward in her chair, as if enjoying the warmth of the fire.
“Where to?”
“Not quite sure.” Teodora waved a lazy hand. “Probably Terragand, since things are likely to be a mess there.”
“Makes sense,” Mattila said, “though I wouldn’t let down my guard for a second.”
“Oh, I’m not.” Teodora took a hot drink from a footman. “In fact, I’ve left my army in Tirilis, so they can harass the Estenorians through the winter.”
“You have an army?” Mattila frowned, then blew across the top of her steaming cup.
“You might be familiar with its leader, since he’s Moraltan. A Janos Rykter.”
“I know him. Didn’t realize he was at loose ends.” Mattila ventured a sip, then made a face.
“Yes, fortunately for me.” Teodora smiled. “Very competent.”
“Huh,” Mattila said again.
Teodora took a sip of her drink. It had brandy in it, which burned going down, but warmed her through as it did. She decided it was time to get to the point, and turned to Princess Alarys. “Your Grace, would you mind sending out your attendants so the three of us can chat?” She nodded at several courtiers hovering against the walls.
“Of course. Shoo, shoo,” the princess said, waving at everyone until they left the room. Then she settled back in her chair and sighed. “All of these people, such a bother.”
Teodora knew well that Princess Alarys loved to surround herself with wealthy and important folk, enjoying every second of the fawning attention they gave her.
“I feel the same way.” Teodora turned to her with a smile. “I get so tired of court, so many people always wanting things from me. That was one of the reasons I accompanied Rykter at such an inconvenient time of year. The rigors of camp life have been doing me good.”
Mattila shook her head and sipped her drink.
Teodora forged ahead. “I’m actually happy to find you here,” she said, “since I’ve been making plans for all of us. I though I’d come here first, since Princess Alarys has been such a staunch supporter of mine, and I wanted to show my appreciation.”
The princess preened, and Teodora smiled at her and went on. “I have a vision for Kronland,” she said, “and it involves a reduced number of kingdoms, though those few kingdoms will be larger and more powerful, of course.”
“So you’ve found a way to change the imperial code,” Mattila said spitefully.
“No, I haven’t. I’ve decided to take a more ... hmm ... natural approach, one that won’t require much legislation when all is said and done.”
“A little ridiculous to make plans like these with Lennart sitting on your doorstep.” Mattila put her empty cup on a table with a bang.
“Obviously, it requires getting rid of Lennart. But removing him to Terragand is the first step in my plan.”
“I don’t see how you had anything to do with him going,” Mattila said.
“Oh, but I had everything to do with that.” Teodora smiled broadly. “Kendryk is dead because of me.” She leaned back as Princess Alarys gasped and Mattila raised an eyebrow.
“How so?” Mattila asked,
though she took long enough to do it.
“I offered Princess Viviane something nice in exchange for taking care of that for me.”
“I knew it.” Mattila shook her head. “I was sure Braeden Terris couldn’t have done it. He’s not the type.”
“Well, I trust Princess Viviane will find enough evidence to convict him, though she’s taking long enough about it. “
“What was the something nice you offered her?” Mattila’s face took on a belligerent expression. “Brandana?”
“Not at all. I thought she might want most of Oltena, and perhaps a slice of Terragand.”
“Who gets the rest of Terragand?” It was clear Mattila was trying not to sound too eager, and failing.
“That depends on who helps me get rid of Lennart.” Teodora lifted her chin and stared at Mattila, forcing her to look her in the eye. “This is my plan. Everyone who aids him loses their kingdom. In the aftermath of his defeat, I doubt anyone will question me when I reorganize Kronland.”
“And everyone who helps you?” A hint of a smile played on Mattila’s lips, and Teodora knew she had her.
“Those who help me will enjoy great increases in territory and brand new charters confirming their status.”
“What about Princess Floreta? She’s still in exile, still trying to cause me problems.”
“Why, that poor princess will be numbered among my enemies, so I doubt you’ll be troubled by her any further.”
“And Ummarvik, which shelters her?”
“Gone.” Teodora shook her head sadly. “Prince Ossian sealed his fate when he threw in with Lennart at Kaltental. His territory will be absorbed by Brandana.”
“And what will happen to all of these dispossessed princes and princesses?”
“Dead, I’m afraid.” Teodora ran a finger across her throat. “Executed for treason against the empire.”
Anton
Anton didn’t know what to expect when the three of them announced themselves at Princess Vivane’s former palace, so he was a little nervous at first.
Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4) Page 36
