The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  “Yes.” Kendryk leaned up on one elbow and pulled her back down to him. “The answer is yes.”

  “How did you know what I would ask?”

  “Because I know it matters to you. So yes, I forgive you.”

  “Just like that?” She couldn’t stop the tears now.

  “Exactly like that.” He pulled her closer, and she cried into his shoulder. “Darling, it’s all right. It’s over now. You made a mistake. I’ve made mistakes too; far worse in the scheme of things.”

  “No you haven’t. Tomorrow might go very differently if Arian Orland were here.”

  “Probably not. They’d all have plague too.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. I rather like the idea.” She smiled. “What a shame; he could have died a horrible death. If we were really lucky, Schurtz would have caught it too.”

  “That’s awful,” Kendryk said, but he was smiling, too. “Now come here, we have better things to do.”

  Janna

  First there was lamplight, then Gergo clanking about, gathering up Braeden’s armor. Janna opened one eye and saw Braeden looking at her. “You’re awake already,” she said, opening both eyes and smiling.

  “Seems it’s time to go, damn the empress.”

  She yawned. “I’d almost forgotten about the war.”

  “So did I.” He grinned and stroked her hair. “At least for a while.” He pulled her close for a kiss, then sat up. “Novitny sent a message after we changed directions and Teodora is so close, he’s already got a reply. She’s marching straight up the road to Birkenhof and we will meet her there.”

  Janna sat up too, careful to hold the bedclothes against her, though they were alone again, at least for a moment. “Prince Kendryk won’t try to stop her first?”

  “Probably not.” Braeden stood up and reached for his clothes. “Once he’s beyond the river he can take the high ground so his guns can pummel us as we come up.”

  Janna shuddered. “Does he have many guns?”

  “No one knows.” Braeden seemed far too unconcerned for her liking. “I suppose we’ll find out when we get there.”

  Janna got up too, retrieving her dress from a pile on the floor. By the time she had it on, Braeden had dressed. She walked around the cot and into his arms. “I don’t know if I can get used to this,” she murmured against his chest.

  “What, this?” He squeezed her a little tighter. “I can.”

  “No, this is good.” She smiled up at him. “I mean, I don’t know if I can ever not worry about you. Most of the other women are so casual about it. They’re so used to their men being in danger. I think I’ll always worry.”

  “They know it does no good. But they all carry on at first, like you did yesterday.”

  “I did not carry on. You have no idea how much I restrained myself.”

  His bright eyes twinkled down at her. “If you say so. I don’t mind. It’s nice to be fussed over; doesn’t happen too often.”

  “Well, get used to it. I’ll fuss over you all the time, although I’ll try not to carry on too much, as you put it. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

  “Oh, you don’t. Besides, it makes the others jealous, having a pretty young thing weeping all over you.”

  “I’ll try not to weep all over you at least.” Janna smiled again and turned her face up for a long kiss. “I smell breakfast; let’s go.”

  They left the tent hand in hand and found porridge and coffee ready at the nearest fire. It seemed they were late, judging by the disapproving look on Gergo’s face. Janna gulped down some food standing up, kissed Braeden one more time, and then ran to the tent to help pack everything.

  Their wagons were among the last to go, although a few were slower. The families with small children had the hardest time. Janna helped with the last one. A young woman with three children was struggling to pack all the bedding in while holding a baby on one hip and dragging a toddler clinging to her leg.

  “Thank you.” She smiled at Janna, when she took the blankets, folded them, stuffed them in the back of the wagon and snatched a little boy before he could crawl underneath it. “I could manage well enough with two, but three is too many.”

  “Three must be very difficult. I should think two would be more than enough.” Janna wondered with mingled hope and dread how long it would be before she had little ones again. She helped the young woman into the wagon, then handed up the two children.

  “I haven’t seen you before,” the woman said. “Do you want to ride with us for a while?”

  “All right,” Janna said, jumping in as the impatient drover whipped the oxen into motion. “I need to find my horse, but I think he’s somewhere with the spares.”

  “So you were one of those who went ahead.”

  “Yes. It was very exciting. I’m Janna by the way.”

  “I’m Nisa. My husband is Yvan Retter, in the Parzin banner. Which one’s yours?”

  “Terris, though he’s not quite my husband.” To her surprise, it didn’t make her uncomfortable to say so.

  “Oh, the commander. You’ve done well then. Good man and fierce fighter. And don’t worry about the husband bit. Yvan didn’t marry me till I was huge with this one.” She held up the baby. “The main thing is that he takes care of you. And happy as you look, he does that well enough.”

  “He does.” Janna smiled. “Better than anyone.”

  The morning passed pleasantly as Janna chatted with Nisa. She didn’t bother looking for Zoltan until they stopped for a quick meal. It took a while since she saw many people she knew as she walked along the baggage train.

  She found Zoltan about halfway up the column, on a line with spare mounts and found someone to help her with the saddle. She didn’t see Braeden, but he was probably at the front of the column. “Let him eat a little grass,” the groom said. “Once we reach the crossroads there won’t be any more.”

  Janna wondered what he meant, but it soon became clear. As the army moved onto the main Terragand road, the world changed. There were no more pretty farms and villages among harvested fields and meadows with tall yellow and green grass. The ground was black, and nothing but smoking ruin stood in every direction. Even the trees had been burned.

  Janna looked around her, appalled. “What happened to all the people?” she asked the older woman riding next to her.

  “In the walled towns and castles. Seems they all swore to Prince Kendryk and his priest they wouldn’t give the empress or her horses a single bite in their lands. They did it all willingly for their prince, it’s said. Too bad it’s all for nothing. Now that the empress has met up with the hussars and our supplies, there’s enough food to last everyone to the prince’s front door.”

  “This Prince Kendryk must be quite something,” Janna said, picturing a younger version of Braeden wearing a crown.

  “Oh, he is.”

  “You’ve seen him?”

  “In Isenwald. He passed through the streets every day on his way to and from the temple. The men called him the savior of Kronland while the girls swooned.”

  “He’s very handsome then?”

  “In that way that young girls like. Pretty face, eyes the color of the sea. On the small side.”

  Nothing at all like Braeden then. “Why would he destroy his land because of a priest?”

  The woman shrugged. “Hard to say. Maybe these princes get bored when things are too easy for them and make trouble where there is none.” She looked around at the scorched ground. “And then their people suffer. As usual.”

  Gwynneth

  Though they didn’t sleep, morning came all too soon. Several hours before dawn, Kendryk sat up and said, “It’s time.”

  Gwynneth didn’t protest. It wouldn’t do any good and would make him feel worse. All that mattered was giving him the strength to do what he needed to.

  “You remembered my good armor?”

  She nodded. He’d asked her to bring it from the palace, so he wouldn’t take the field in the old, r
usty pieces he’d been wearing.

  “Help me put it on, then.”

  It already lay in a pile in the tiny chamber that was now her dressing room. A sleepy Catrin brought a lamp and Gwynneth sent her for food.

  “I don’t think I can eat,” Kendryk said.

  “Then take something along. Perhaps you’ll have time later.”

  “All right. Thank you for taking such good care of me, darling.”

  She swallowed hard and said nothing, just helped him get dressed. Once Catrin brought bread, sausage and cheese in a bundle, they were alone again.

  Gwynneth was struggling with the buckles of the fabulous silver cuirass with its blue inlay when he said, “I need you to do one more thing for me, and you must promise to do it before I tell you what it is.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” She looked around her for the next piece.

  “Do you promise, Gwynneth?” He looked at her, pale and intent. “Please; it’s the most important thing of all.”

  “Oh all right.” She yanked at a strap. “What horrible thing do you want me to do?”

  “It might not come to it. Maybe we’ll win, or get away, or there’ll be a miracle.”

  “Does His Holiness expect a miracle?” she asked, her tone nastier than she intended.

  “No, he doesn’t. And that’s not the point. The point is this—if the worst happens, and I’m captured.”

  “That’s not the worst.”

  “It is. If I’m dead, Teodora can’t use me as a bargaining chip, can she?”

  “Don’t say things like that.” Gwynneth strapped on his vambraces.

  “It’s the truth. But if the worst happens, and I’m taken alive, you must promise me you will not surrender the castle.”

  “All right. I won’t surrender the castle.”

  “There’s more.” Kendryk stopped her and held her by both arms. “If she offers me in exchange for Maryna as a hostage, or for Landrus, you must refuse.”

  “I can do it for our daughter. I don’t know if I can do it for that man.”

  “You can. And you must. It’s the only thing that matters now. If I lose today—and I expect I shall—there’s still a chance it will not have been in vain if Landrus survives.”

  “He seems irrelevant at this point.”

  “He’s not. You don’t believe him darling, and I don’t blame you. But you must understand something. These past few awful days, when I was asking my subjects to sacrifice everything for my folly, every single one I saw did it gladly. Do you know why?”

  “Because they love you.”

  “No, because they love Landrus and they believe his teachings. They will give up everything so he can go on. Please don’t dishonor their sacrifice.”

  “But what about your sacrifice?” There was that awful feeing in her middle again. Something was winding her so tight she would soon be squeezed into nothing.

  “In the eyes of the gods, it’s no better or worse than theirs. We all have to do our part.”

  She kept working in silence. When she finished, she said, “And I suppose that’s mine now. To keep your precious preacher safe no matter what horrible things Teodora does to you.”

  “It is. I don’t think Teodora will be too horrible. Sure, she’ll throw me in her dungeon and make me uncomfortable, but the rest of Kronland won’t stand for me being treated like a common criminal.”

  “They seem to stand for it well enough right now.”

  “It’s different.”

  “If you say so.” She didn’t want to argue anymore.

  He stood before her, shining in his bright armor, the perfect prince of her dreams. “Promise me, Gwynneth,” he said, his eyes with that same intense look they’d had when he’d asked for her hand.

  “I promise.”

  “Say it. Please. I need to hear you say it.”

  “I promise I will not surrender the castle, or Maryna or that bastard Landrus, no matter what Teodora does to you.”

  “Thank you. Now come here.” He pulled her close against his armor and she prayed it would protect him. Then he kissed her. “I love you very much. Now come, I need to get to my army before daybreak.”

  Unable to speak, she picked up his helmet and carried it down to the courtyard for him. His horse stood ready. “Don’t you have any weapons?” she asked.

  “Faris has them all. Everything is ready for me.” He kissed her one last time, then climbed into the saddle and she handed him the helmet.

  “You look wonderful.” She no longer cared that the tears ran down her face. “They’ll die for you. I’d die for you.”

  “Please don’t.” He smiled down at her. “Now, after I’m gone, bar the gate and raise the drawbridge and don’t let it back down again until your brother comes.”

  She nodded.

  One last smile, then the horse clattered across the cobbles, through the inner gate and disappeared. She ran back up the stairs, but it was still too dark to see him on the road. She knew the direction he’d take and looked that way until she was sure he had reached Faris and the rest. Feeling almost too heavy to move, she trudged across the room to another window. The light of thousands of torches flickered above a thin layer of fog in the distance. They were coming.

  Braeden

  Kazmir picked his way through the fog and Braeden tipped his head back as far as he could. The pointed towers of Birkenfels emerged from the mist. Judging by the angle, the castle perched high on a cliff over the river, well out of reach.

  “She’s up there somewhere, that princess with the golden hair.” Miro sighed. “Ercos willing, we’ll make her a widow before sundown. Do you reckon she’s looking down on us?”

  “If she is, she can’t see through the fog.” Braeden peered ahead and saw nothing but a few feet of road. “Stop worrying about the princess and worry we’ll stumble onto her husband before Novitny and the rest come up. Though come to think of it, I’m sure she’d be happy to have your ugly mug on a spike over her gate.”

  “One look at me and that princess will forget all about that stupid prince of hers. It’s your scruffy head she’d stick up there while I stick her …”

  “There they are. Thanks the gods.” Braeden spotted more hussars emerging from the fog. Since Prince Kendryk had blown the bridge, everyone had to ford the river downstream. By the time the hussars crossed, the fog was so thick Braeden had lost track of all but his own banner.

  “Glad you’re here, Terris.” Prince Novitny’s drooping mustache was white with frost. “Was worried you’d gone the wrong way. Would be a shame to miss all the fun now it’s finally come to it.”

  “It would,” Braeden said. “Running the other way in the mountains didn’t sit well with me.” Kazmir snorted in agreement.

  By now all the hussars coming up from the river had fallen into formation on the road leading away from the castle. Braeden spared one more glance for Princess Gwynneth barricaded up there and Novitny followed his gaze. “They won’t get any help from there. At least I hope not.”

  “There can’t be more than a skeleton garrison.”

  “It’s not the garrison that worries me. It’s that girl’s father. Don’t you think it’s strange that there hasn’t been a peep from King Andres? It’s not like him to be quiet at a time like this. I wouldn’t be too surprised if he’s got ships sailing up this river.”

  “That would be inconvenient.” Braeden thought of Janna, still far away on the other side. They’d left the baggage train well-guarded, but if they should be unlucky enough to reach the river when an enemy force arrived…

  “It’s unlikely, though,” the prince went on. “General Ensden has given word we’re to mind our rear. He’s posted scouts at least twenty leagues downriver so we should have plenty of warning if any ships come.”

  “Good.” It felt strange to have someone else to worry about, but it was nice, too.

  As they reached open country beyond the river valley, the imperial right flank came into view. Pale sunlight caugh
t thousands of spear-tips as enormous squares of pike and musket moved into place. Solid and slow-moving, the squares were easily outflanked, but Prince Kendryk didn’t have enough cavalry to be a threat. Arian Orland’s ten thousand horse were nowhere to be seen. Maybe the rumors were true.

  Braeden took his place at the head of his banner on Novitny’s right flank. A slight breeze blew in a faint, smoky scent. They were upwind of the burned village and the troops had received strict orders not to set fire to anything else. Rumor was that the empress had her eye on taking Birkenhof palace for her own use while she mopped up here in Kronland.

  “Dura!” Braeden snapped and Franca materialized instantly. “Do you smell the smoke?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I want you to find out where it’s coming from and who started the fire.”

  She saluted and galloped off.

  He turned to Miro, riding at his elbow. “How far are we from the line?”

  “Not far. Imperial messengers sent word that the empress is drawn up in front of those two hills. Bernotas should be straight across. When we run into a little creek, we’re there.”

  “Good enough.” The horses walked slowly across grass already trampled by thousands of feet.

  Franca galloped up a moment later in a spray of mud. “It’s the palace, sir.”

  “Vica’s tits!” Braeden swore. “Everyone got that order a dozen times.”

  “Sir, Prince Kendryk burnt it himself. It was already on fire when our scouts got here.”

  “Can it be put out?”

  “Not a chance. It was all in flames by the time I got there. One fellow thought he’d get in for some plunder and is in a bad state. I told his comrades they should put him out of his misery.”

  “Go tell Novitny. We’ll let the empress hear it from someone else.”

  Miro snickered as Franca galloped off again. “That’ll put Her Highness in a rage.”

  “She’s been in a rage since she was born. Just as well it was Bernotas did this since she wants to kill him anyway.”