“Wouldn’t he be easier to defeat first?” Reno asked.
“Maybe. But he’s weaker. Much less use to Arryk right now. And we only have a few months before winter sets in and we must come back here. Unless much changes, Demario Barela might go out. He’s been training his pike to take on cavalry in small engagements. He’ll do well if he wants to go after Arryk or Orland once they’re pinned down during the winter.”
“So we’ll be back by winter?” Braeden asked.
“Late autumn, I imagine. Southern Kronland is already eaten clean and we’ll want to be away from there by the time the grass stops growing. I won’t risk our horses starving.”
Braeden left the meeting feeling happy, but he slowed down a little by the time he reached the house. He didn’t know how to tell Janna.
He found her in the garden, sitting in the shade with the baby. It was a warm afternoon and fragrance rose from the flowers she and Trisa had planted in the spring. Bees hummed and Janna and the baby both looked half asleep, propped against the trunk of a large cedar tree. Braeden felt a bit sleepy himself as he lowered himself into the grass, sliding an arm around Janna’s shoulders.
“It’s wonderful out here, isn’t it?” Janna turned to him, smiling, then put a sleeping Iryna into his arms.
Braeden took a deep breath. No point in putting it off. “I’m being deployed,” he said.
“What? Now?”
He hated the panicked look in her eyes. “Yes, now. But only for a few months. We’ll be back here by winter.”
“We’ll come along, of course,” Janna said, a determined set to her mouth.
Braeden sighed. “I’m sorry little mouse, but you can’t. We’re traveling fast and light this time and won’t be camping anywhere for long. It’ll be quick actions and we’ll cover a large area. I don’t think anyone is taking family.”
“But I came last time. I enjoyed that so much and you liked having me along, didn’t you?”
“You know I did. But the little one isn’t a month old. She’s too young for even a regular campaign.”
Janna’s lip trembled as she looked down at the sleeping baby. He prayed she would see things his way.
She swallowed hard. “When will you be back?”
“October at the latest. We’ll spend the winter here together, I promise.”
“What if something happens to you?”
“Nothing ever happens to me; you know that.” He grinned at her, hoping she’d smile back.
She did, though it was a tiny one. “I know, but I still worry.” She looked at Iryna again and sighed. “I suppose you’re right. She is still so small and I’d never forgive myself if she got sick while we were on campaign.”
“There’s nothing wrong with her, is there?” Braeden looked into Iryna’s tiny face anxiously.
“Oh no, not at all. Things can just happen so quickly when they’re small. All the more reason it’s best for me to stay here.”
Braeden breathed a sigh of relief, then laid Iryna onto a blanket that Janna had spread on the grass. “I’ll miss you, you know,” he said, then reached for his wife.
Teodora
Teodora drummed her fingers on the table. “Let’s discuss the Kronland situation. I need details before I decide what to do.”
A sigh went up from the twenty members of her council. They had been seated at the enormous table in her largest state chamber for the past three hours. A warm breeze wafted in through an open window and Teodora caught an old nobleman casting a longing glance at the fountain just outside in the gardens. It wasn’t as though Teodora had time to enjoy them so there was no reason he should.
“Your Highness,” Count Solteszy said, “your victory over Prince Kendryk was overwhelming, but incomplete. The remnants of his armies have combined with those of his brother-in-law. Between them, they hold nearly all of the political power throughout Kronland. This is exacerbated by the aggressive activities of the defrocked heretic priest Edric Landrus. Every town whose temple has gone to his Quadrene heresy has also declared for Kronland’s independence from the Empire.”
“I want the name of every traitor,” Teodora said. “If they think I will forget this when the tide turns in my favor …”
“Your Highness—”
“Read them. I want to hear the names of each person who dares claim I am not the rightful ruler.”
Solteszy sighed and looked down at the document in front of him. “Very well. First, and least surprising is Prince Bronson Falk of Helvundala. We’ve known for some times he’s harbored treasonous ideas and likely even engaged in secret negotiations with Norovaea. He led an army against Count Ensden himself at the relief of Birkenfels.”
“His head will be first on the block,” Teodora snapped. “Next.”
“Princess Galena Sebesta of Oltena. Also unsurprising, since she is Prince Kendryk’s aunt on his mother’s side. We neutralized her last year and she has not recovered, so even though she is near our northern borders, we needn’t consider her a threat right now. It’s also possible that holding Prince Kendryk helps keep her from acting against us openly.”
“Hmm. See that she is reminded. No further harm will come to her nephew as long as she follows our instructions to the letter, and so on.”
“Done.” Solteszy scribbled something on his paper. Then he started reading again. “The northerners are proving the most problematic, also not surprising. They were already infected by the spirit of rebellion in Zeelund and no doubt feel Norovaea will offer them protection if they misbehave. We’ve learned that Prince Ossian Dahlby of Ummarvik has entered into formal alliance with Arryk Roussay, and has appointed Emilya Hohenwart to recruit and lead ten thousand troops, if she can find them.”
Teodora’s fist slammed down on the table and everyone sitting around it jumped. “Hohenwart? Isn’t she one of ours?”
Solteszy consulted his notes. “She was, Your Highness. After working for your uncle, she was in the employ of your cousin, Queen Beatryz, but had a falling out with Commandant Montanez some years ago and has worked for Zeelund ever since.”
“Unbelievable.” Teodora slumped back in her chair. It hadn’t happened on her watch, but it seemed her uncle had let one of his best generals slip away, and her incompetent cousin had done the same.
Solteszy made a vague noise of agreement and continued. “Next is Princess Floreta Bensen of Brandana. She was a highly equivocal supporter of Prince Kendryk—in fact, I would say she hardly qualified as such. But, her land has been subject to the depredations of Daciana Tomescu so she has thrown herself in with Arian Orland, who continues to transport the heretical priest across her kingdom, unhindered.”
“Then we have Prince Dristan Fabrey of Aquianus. My sources say he too is on the verge of an agreement with King Arryk. No word yet on the number of troops he may supply. Princess Viviane Kasbirk has formalized an alliance with the king but she only has three thousand or so militia at her disposal. Princess Keylinda Marthaler in Fromenberg has not entered into in-person talks with King Arryk, but we’ve heard Princess Gwynneth is on her way there right now.”
“Would someone like to explain how Princess Gwynneth—” Teodora could hardly get the words out without gagging. “How Princess Gwynneth is roaming all over my empire, inciting my enemies, gathering troops against me, when just a few months ago, we had her cooped up in her castle?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “Anyone?”
Everyone stared down at the table.
After a long, unpleasant silence, a Countess Biaram spoke up quietly. “Your Highness, is there no further way Prince Kendryk can be used to keep her in line even now?”
That was the only name that could make her angrier right now. “Kendryk is turning out to be a singularly useless hostage. I could never have guessed that his wife cared so little for him she wouldn’t exchange that priest for him, or the castle. Theirs was supposed to be a storybook romance and they would die for each other. Instead, she would let him die rather than turn over a man she did
n’t know all that well. Unless …” A thought came to her suddenly. “Unless she and the priest became unnaturally close during the siege. Has anyone determined for a certainty that her baby is in fact Kendryk’s?”
“No one has,” Countess Biaram said, a gleam in her eye. She always appreciated a good rumor and was helpful in spreading one, when necessary. “And even before the battle last year, there were rather scurrilous stories concerning her and Arian Orland. They said Orland wasn’t there because Prince Kendryk sent him away after discovering an affair and that the princess was carrying a child that wasn’t his.”
“Why didn’t I know this then?” Teodora demanded. “It might have been useful information. I could have killed Kendryk in battle and saved us all a great deal of trouble.”
“It was one of many rumors.” The countess seemed unworried by Teodora’s anger. “At the time it seemed unimportant when we were more concerned with troop movements and the progress of plague in Prince Kendryk’s army.”
“Hm,” Teodora said, fixing a withering stare on the countess. “Stop referring to him as ‘Prince’ Kendryk. He is no longer a prince. Let’s continue.” If she thought about Princess Gwynneth any more she was likely to rupture something.
Solteszy turned back to his document. “There is one fence-sitter right now. Prince Herryk Peloso of Tirilis is in a most uncomfortable position. His proximity to Olvisya makes him vulnerable to retaliation from us, but he is also friendly with Galladium and is working out a new treaty with King Gauvain. It seems he would prefer to stay neutral, but may well bend to the pressure of whoever exerts the most.”
“Let it be us, then,” Teodora said. “Send an envoy and let’s have a treaty too, while he’s at it. But surely, Arcius is still loyal to us?”
“Indeed, Princess Zelenka has been our most faithful partisan. She has even banned Landrus’s teachings in her temples. Anyone found with copies of his work can be charged with heresy.”
“At last, someone with sense. I suppose Lantura is a lost cause?”
“Yes, it seems so. Prince Eldrid has provided Arryk with everything he’s asked for. Of course, it’s hard to say no when the King of Norovaea has just garrisoned his twenty thousand troops on your land, but Benda was never the most resolute.”
“True, though it makes him no less a traitor. What about Princess Martinek, in Podoska?”
“Bad news from there, too. She is also fielding her own army to support King Arryk. She’s called in Seward Kurant to whip them into shape. I don’t know where she’s recruiting, but Kurant knows what he’s about.”
“Yes, he gave Barela a good run in Floradias a few years ago. Are there any more enemies to add to my tally?” She tried to sound casual, but having it laid out so methodically made the fear rise like bile in her throat. It was hard to see where it would stop.
“None at present.” Solteszy sounded rather satisfied.
She stood. “I will make a decision about all of this soon. You can be sure I will not sit idly by while this threat builds.” She walked out, hoping she looked more resolute than she felt.
When she returned to her private chambers, she sent for Livilla Maxima. The older woman arrived with no ceremony and came straight to Teodora, kissing her forehead. “How bad is it then?” she asked, sitting down across from her.
“Nearly intolerable. I had thought defeating Kendryk the way I did would put a stop to it all, but it only seems to have inflamed matters.”
Livilla sighed. “It’s impossible to see how these things will fall out, especially when there’s unfinished business. And Princess Gwynneth reacted in a way we did not expect. But now my dear, it’s time for you to react in a way no one expects.”
“I’m sure it is, but I can’t think of what I should do.”
“I have an idea. You won’t like it, but the gods sent me dreams about this person three nights in a row. There’s no question this is their will.”
Teodora was afraid to ask what Livilla might propose, so she waited in silence.
“Brynhild Mattila,” Livilla said.
“No,” Teodora replied before the name was out. “No. I can’t bear it. Anyone but her.”
“There isn’t anyone else,” Livilla said. “You know that. You must at least talk to her.”
“I can’t.” Teodora was unable to stop the panic rising in her voice. “I won’t.”
“You must. There is no other way.”
Kendryk
Kendryk now saw the darkness as his friend and constant companion, so the light was an intrusion. Even worse was what followed: the empress, in as foul a mood as he’d ever seen her. But that gave him hope. Whatever was bad for her was good for him, at least in a general sense.
He sat up blinking, swung his legs over the side of the stone bench, stood up shakily and managed a somewhat proper bow. “Your Highness, this is a surprise.”
She made a snorting noise, which didn’t become her, then shouted something at the guards. He’d straightened up by the time they came in.
“The stench of this place, really,” she said to the guards. “Take him to a better room where I can speak to him.”
They grabbed him by both arms and half-dragged him out of the cell. He could walk now, but not as fast as they wanted him to. They hauled him into another room, already lit with a lamp, pushed him into a chair and asked, “Shall we chain him, Your Highness?”
Teodora gave Kendryk a long look. “It won’t be necessary. You can stand outside the door. He was always on the puny side, but now I could overcome him with one finger.”
Kendryk found that funny. “You’re right.” He smiled.
That was a mistake. “Don’t mock me,” she shouted, advancing on him, still holding the torch. Kendryk shrank back into the chair.
“I meant no offense,” he said with all the calm he could muster. “And I give my word I will behave myself during your visit.”
“Oh, you will.” Teodora smiled her cold smile and handed the torch to a guard before sitting down across from him. She wore a court dress, which looked incongruous in the stone cell. For it was a cell, though a much nicer one than his.
Kendryk wondered what she wanted. Probably the same thing as always. Whenever something didn’t go her way, she appeared sooner or later, trying to force him to abdicate. It seemed a ridiculous exercise, considering she had already removed him from his seat, but she seemed to want it badly. It made him suspect she’d suffered a setback in Terragand, or that the other Kronlanders were asking for his formal abdication before bending to her. He hoped that was true.
He didn’t have to wait long. She leaned forward and looked at him intently. “You look awful. And you smell worse.”
Kendryk believed it. He hadn’t seen a mirror in some time, but he’d grown a patchy beard and his hair had grown out raggedly. He’d also lost several stone he couldn’t afford to and was no doubt pasty pale from however many months he’d been down here. “I don’t suppose I might have a bath?”
“Unlikely. Although, if you cooperate …” She smiled sweetly, which was even more incongruous than her elaborate dress.
Kendryk sighed. “You can guess my answer, I’m sure.”
“Shouldn’t you listen to my proposal first?”
“Is it the same as always?”
“More or less. But I’m losing patience. If you don’t comply, it might go badly for you.”
“Worse than it already is?”
“Much worse.”
“Will you kill me?”
“I might.”
“I wouldn’t mind that.” Forcing a small smile wasn’t as hard as he thought it might be.
“Not the way I plan to do it. If you imagine it’ll go quickly or painlessly, think again.”
“I’ve considered that.”
“You can’t have. Perhaps you should spend an afternoon in the lower cells where confessions are extracted from rebels.”
Kendryk knew he should feel terror, but it was as though his heart refused to
acknowledge what his head understood. He wondered if he was beyond fear. He sighed. “I’m completely at your mercy and you can do whatever you want, no matter what I do or don’t do for you. Why do you hesitate?”
She shrugged. “I won’t deny it would make my life easier if I received your abdication in writing.”
“I’m sure it would. But I’ll never do it. There is something else I’d consider however.”
“Oh?” her smile was nasty.
“A public hearing. Put me on trial and invite all of the other rulers in the empire. Prove me guilty and I’ll agree to give up everything.”
“You’ve already lost everything.”
“Not everything.”
“You are a lunatic.”
“Perhaps. But I still have my self-respect.”
“I must admit your arrogance and stubbornness are astonishing. But I can hurt your family. You can spend an afternoon observing interrogations and then ponder how well your little girl would withstand that.”
“You don’t have my little girl.” He said it with such confidence he could tell from the shock on her face she believed him.
“How do you know that? Which guard told you? I’ll have him—”
“No guard told me. I received a message from the gods. I’m certain my family is safe, though I don’t know exactly how.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The gods don’t send messages like that, and certainly not to heretics.”
He shrugged. “They did. So there’s nothing you can do to force me to give in to you. You can’t hurt my family, and I can bear whatever you do to me. Ercos will give me strength.”
“I do believe you have lost your mind.”
“I’ve wondered that myself. But the gods sent me comfort, and haven’t done so for you. So …” He trailed off with a shrug, then almost pitied her, seeing the flash of pain that crossed her face and disappeared.
She stood up and slapped him hard. “How dare you preach to me, you little—” She slapped him again.
The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3 Page 59
