The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  “I won’t let you stay there forever,” Arryk said. The need to get her out of Kersenstadt would give him the resolve to face Mattila, no matter how badly his allies behaved.

  “I know.” She smiled at him, kissed him and fell asleep in his arms.

  But sleep didn’t come for him. He stared into the dark until he thought he was imagining moving shapes against the black wall. A lamp flickered in an alcove, but the black was so all-consuming, Arryk wondered that he still saw its light.

  The blackness closed in on him. Arryk tried to sit up, to reach for another light, but a great weight pressed him down. He still felt his arms around Larisa, heard her even breathing, but she seemed very far away. He struggled to move, but his limbs felt tied to the bed. This had to be a dream.

  Out of the black, a figure advanced on him. In spite of the dark, he saw her clearly. She was tall and pale, her face framed by hair as black as the night around her. She wore armor of gold that should have caught the light, but it was flat, as though it reflected the surrounding blackness. Now she stood in front of him.

  “You know who I am,” she said, her voice harsh and grating. “I will destroy you.”

  Arryk tried to choke out a “Why?” but no words came.

  She understood him anyway. “Why? Because you dared defy me. Because you left your home, where you belong, and invaded my lands. Wasn’t what I did to Kendryk enough?”

  “What have you done to Kendryk?” He gasped.

  She laughed, a horrid cackle. “Imagine the worst, then understand I’m capable of much more. What I have planned for you will hurt so badly you’ll never be the same after.”

  Arryk couldn’t speak.

  “I know you’re dying to find out, so I’ll give you a hint.” She moved closer, so close that Arryk might have touched her, if he’d been able to move. She pulled a long sword from a scabbard at her waist. The metal screeched, much like her voice.

  Arryk shivered and tried to move, but the blackness pinned him down.

  She raised the sword high, brought it straight down, and Arryk braced for the cut. But it went into Larisa instead. She lay motionless in his arms as the sword plunged in again and again.

  Arryk tried to scream, tried to grab the sword but he was paralyzed. Blood sprang from Larisa like a fountain, washing over Arryk. He needed to lift his head if he wasn’t to drown, but still couldn’t move. Now the woman was laughing again, still plunging the blade into Larisa’s limp body. Arryk opened his mouth to scream, but it filled with blood. He gasped for air, but now the blood filled his nose. Just before it covered his eyes he saw the woman stop and look down at him, a triumphant smile on her face.

  Then Larisa was shaking him, her voice frantic. “Wake up, Arryk. Please, please wake up.”

  When he could finally open his eyes, a lamp flickered nearby and Larisa was still shaking him.

  “Oh gods,” he said, grabbing onto her. “You’re alive.”

  “Of course I’m alive. I was wondering about you, though. You were shaking and screaming and I couldn’t wake you up. Must have been quite a nightmare.”

  Arryk sat up slowly, still holding onto Larisa. “Not a nightmare,” he said. “I’m certain of it. I’m also certain you must not go to Kersenstadt.”

  Anton

  Someone jumped out of the boat and waded to shore. They had fired the pistol, and likely had another. Anton knew he was too far away for an accurate shot, so he waited, his tongue glued to the dry roof of his mouth. Now a second person ran for the beach. A blast came from somewhere below Anton and one of the figures fell into the surf. The other one came faster. He was on the beach now, running straight toward Anton. The count was probably right below him on the path. Anton waited until he could make out the man’s shape and fired.

  He missed and the man shot back. The ball hit the dirt a few feet below Anton, a few clods springing into his face. The man was even closer now. Anton fired again and another blast came from right below him. The man fell and didn’t get up again. After a moment, the boat rowed back toward the ships.

  Anton held his breath and didn’t move. A few seconds later, the count burst out of a cluster of grass and threw himself onto the ground next to Anton. “Stay down a moment longer. Where are the horses?”

  “Behind those rocks.” Anton had left them on the downslope of the bluff so they wouldn’t be silhouetted.

  “Let’s crawl that way. Once they get back to the ships I wouldn’t be surprised if they blast at us with the big guns. We want to be well away by then.”

  That was all Anton needed to get him to scramble down the hillside. The horses stood where he left them, inspecting the long, tough and apparently tasteless grass. Cid nickered again when he saw the count.

  “Let’s go. We must leave the coast road as soon as possible so they can’t intercept us further south.”

  They rode hard until they reached the main road linking Kleeren with a Floradias border town. “Slow down,” the count said. “We don’t want to blow the horses. We’ll ride until morning and find a place to stay. If we leave out again in the evening, we can make Floradias by the next morning.”

  “What happened back there?” Anton asked after a while.

  “Bastards tried to double-cross me, as I half expected. I insisted on payment in coin, which they weren’t happy about. They thought they’d pay me, take the ships, then come back to kill and rob me. You did well back there. I’m sure I missed that last fellow.”

  “Did I kill him then?” Anton asked in a small voice.

  “Likely. If he’s wounded, his friends won’t come back for him, so in this weather he’ll be dead by morning.”

  Anton felt bad, but would have felt worse if the man had gotten the count. “What will they do with the ships?”

  “If they’re not stupid enough to fire the guns and make a commotion, they’ll unload the goods onto those boats and take everything into caves below those cliffs. From there, they’ll sell everything off in smaller batches. Smugglers come to that spot all the time so they should make about twice what they paid me.”

  “What happened to the captains of those ships?”

  “I put ‘em ashore on a beach outside Kleeren. They ought to make it back to town by morning, another reason we’ll want to lay low tomorrow.”

  “How did you get them to hand over the ships?”

  “I came aboard and told them I was the owner’s husband, which is true. I brought along a few toughs I knew from before—unemployed soldiers—and convinced the captains it would be smart to cooperate. Once I spread a bit of silver around the crew they behaved well enough.”

  “What’ll happen to them?”

  “As long as they don’t cause trouble, they’ll be turned loose once the ship is empty. I wouldn’t be surprised if some join the smugglers. The rest will probably sail to Bonnenruck where Kamyla can make her insurance claim.”

  “Did you get as much as you were hoping?”

  “Almost. I’ll have a smaller force than before, but it should be enough. Once we get to Floradias, we’ll stay in Maladene territory, then I’ll set to recruiting and get supplies ordered. You’ll see first-hand how an army is put together.”

  Kendryk

  First, Kendryk slept. He’d slept a great deal while in the dungeon, but this was different. He wasn’t on a hard stone bench, covered in musty, louse-ridden straw in a place that was just a little too cold and damp. He lay on top of and underneath marvelously soft feather beds, with a fire burning in the hearth when he fell asleep and when he awakened.

  And when he woke up, he ate. He was unbelievably hungry and had forgotten how much he missed good food. He started with simple meals cooked in the fortress kitchen, but once his regular appetite returned, found he wanted more.

  “Ulla,” he said the next time the maid came into the little room he’d turned into a study. “Please send your brother into the city for food. Sybila said there’s an excellent inn nearby.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ulla ran
off. She still seemed a little frightened. It was also odd to not be addressed as Your Grace, but the fact remained that no one here considered him a prince. Since it might take a while for the food to arrive, he decided to explore a bit more. He’d acquainted himself with his little suite of rooms and stepped into the garden once or twice, though the bitter cold soon drove him back indoors.

  Dolf, his other servant, had told him he was allowed to go wherever he wished on the fortress ground floor, except for the guardroom, behind which was the gate. Kendryk knew there’d be other gates beyond that, and more guards, and then the impressive city walls. He wanted to escape, but he also knew he could never manage that on his own. Gauvain and Natalya had already accomplished this much. Surely, given time, they would get a chance to do more.

  Kendryk turned down a corridor running along the other side of the courtyard. Dolf had said there’d be a library here. It was time he looked at it. The door was open, revealing walls lined with old-looking books. It was chilly in here and the hearth stood black and empty. Kendryk hadn’t bothered to bring a cloak, but resolved to ask for a fire later. Enough light came in through the windows that he could read the titles. It appeared every book in this library was at least fifty years old. He sighed. It would have to do until he ordered something better.

  There was a cough behind him. Kendryk turned, wondering if Dolf was already back. To his surprise, a boy sat at a table, reading by the light coming in from an opposite window.

  “Who are you?” Kendryk asked.

  “Who are you?” the boy asked, closing his book and looking surly.

  Kendryk smiled, walked over and sat down across from him. “I’m Kendryk Bernotas. Recently of the dungeon.”

  “I’ve heard of you. How did you get here?”

  “It’s a long story. What about you? You look too young to be guilty of any crime.”

  “I’m a hostage.” The boy looked glum. “I’ve been here for almost three years. My family are Marjatyan rebels and I can’t go home until they obey the empress. I’m surprised she hasn’t killed me yet.”

  Kendryk was surprised as well, but he didn’t say so. “What’s your name?” he asked gently. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I’m Karil Andarosz, heir to Count Andarosz. The Sanova Hussars brought me here during the siege. I think they’ve forgotten about me.”

  “Maybe,” Kendryk said. “But you’re probably right about your family. And even if they’re behaving, the empress might keep you here to make sure they continue. Are you very bored?”

  Karil nodded.

  “Well, I’ll get more books. Tell me what you like to read and I’ll order some for you as well. And I need to get some exercise. Do you enjoy swordplay?”

  “The guards would never let us.”

  “We won’t have swords. But sticks will serve well enough. I doubt the guards will mind if we knock each other about the head with fallen branches.”

  That coaxed a smile from the boy.

  “We’ll practice every day,” Kendryk said. “Just in case we get a chance to fight our way out of here.” He knew that was optimism beyond foolishness, but it felt good to have hope, and it was even nicer to have a friend.

  Gwynneth

  A storm was coming in as Gwynneth boarded the sturdy little ship. “Will we wait for it to blow over?” she asked the captain, a stocky, black-haired woman with cheeks chapped red by the wind.

  “Don’t see the point.” The captain shrugged, the ear-flaps of her cap smacking the sides of her head. Gwynneth wondered she could hear anything at all. “It’ll just start up again, sooner rather than later this time of year. You needn’t worry your ladyship. I make this crossing at least once a week and now I’m trying to do it more often since the king’s gone there. They need a lot of supplies. Your husband based out there?”

  “No. I’m on personal business.”

  “Understood.” The captain didn’t seem offended. “I’m Kelsi Brun. You can call me either, or both. I don’t stand much on ceremony on a ship the size of the Rusa. You’re welcome to join me in my cabin for dinner. Nothing fancy, but I find it nice to have the company.”

  “I’d like that.” Gwynneth smiled. There was something about this woman she liked. Or maybe it was that as a girl she’d imagined she would have enjoyed the life of a sea captain. She nearly envied this Kelsi Brun her little ship and her freedom.

  For the most part, Gwynneth wore her obligations lightly, but of late they were so many she felt crushed. She worried about Terragand and Norovaea and the progress of the war. She worried about her brothers, her children, and Kendryk most of all. She worried that if she didn’t untangle all of these problems soon, she’d never see her husband again, and her daughter would never come into her birthright.

  To her surprise, she found herself telling Captain Brun who she was and what her plans were. The captain looked shocked. “I wish you’d let me know your ladyship—I mean Your Grace. You should be better guarded.”

  “I feel quite safe, as long as no one knows who I am.”

  “If you say so, though I’m surprised. I never dreamed a princess would travel all over by herself with no baggage to speak of and a slip of a girl as companion.”

  “We’ve kept to ourselves and no one’s bothered us. It’s very different from Kronland, where I have to go everywhere with at least a hundred guards. I’ve rather enjoyed it.”

  “I expect you have. I’m glad you’ve told me what you’re up to. That way I can land you close to the king. Otherwise I would have headed for another island and you would have had a time getting back.”

  “Isn’t it easy to take small boats between islands?”

  “It is during good weather, but it’s almost impossible right now. No, I’ll sail you right into the harbor at the fortress. I’ve got a pass so there won’t be a problem. But if you want my advice, from there it’s best if we let the commander know who you are straight away. It’s a rough bunch who’s garrisoned there and I’d worry about you and your maid finding the king on your own.”

  “That seems sensible. I’ve known the king since I was a girl and I’m sure he remembers me. I hope once he hears I’m there he’ll grant me an audience right away.”

  “I’m sure he will. In fact, if I might be so bold, I wonder he never married you. He knew you some time ago, before you married the prince, I take it?”

  Gwynneth smiled and took a sip from the fine cut-glass tumbler. Her meal had been surprisingly good and the ship’s motion seemed less bothersome in the cozy well-appointed cabin. The only other officer, a young man who looked so like the captain he could only be a relative, took watch while the captain dined. “The fact is, he paid court to me before I met my husband.”

  “He did? And you turned him down?” Captain Brun looked at Gwynneth as if she were mad. Perhaps she had been.

  “Not quite. He never made an offer. I’m sure he liked me, and I liked him, too. But he told me I was likely to be too much trouble. We argued quite a bit, over all kinds of ridiculous things. I enjoyed it, but looking back, I suppose he imagined me turning into a nagging shrew who questioned his every decision. He wasn’t interested in having a true consort who would help him rule. And frankly, I wouldn’t settle for less than that.”

  “Nor should you,” Brun said with an approving nod.

  “So, King Lennart returned to Estenor to think about it, and Kendryk appeared shortly after that. Once I met him, there was no question of who I wanted to marry, and he never seemed to have second thoughts about letting me help him. My great concern now is that Raysa Sikora will be too strong-willed for the king. Though perhaps he’s changed, and of course, I don’t know her at all.”

  “We don’t hear much about her, just that Queen Ottilya would dearly love a match with Briansk, and they seem to love the idea much less.”

  “Raysa is still young. Perhaps Lennart will find her easier to control.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that. Were you easier to control at seventeen?”<
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  “Good point.” Gwynneth smiled. “Well, I can do nothing but make the proposal and see what he thinks.”

  “If he’s sensible he’ll see it’s a good one. It’s high time we had peace with Sanova.”

  “I agree. Though it might mean war in Kronland.”

  “True. But with any luck, it’ll be a short one.”

  “That’s what I hope for as well.”

  Janna

  Occupying herself became increasingly difficult as her pregnancy progressed, so Janna turned to reading. She had never cared much for books, but then she’d always been busy with other tasks. And it was a good way to improve her Olvisyan.

  Doctor Marsel was happy to bring her books from his personal library. He was interested in history and politics, so that was what Janna read. She learned why this war was unlikely to end soon. It was about much more than a rebellious priest and prince. If it hadn’t been Edric Landrus and Kendryk Bernotas, it would have been someone else. As Moralta had tried and failed, so had Terragand, but both their defeats didn’t seem to mean anything to those who wanted change.

  “So the Kronland rulers won’t be satisfied unless they receive complete independence from the empire. But the empire won’t let them go. Is there no way to settle it without a war?” Janna asked Doctor Marsel when he came by to bring her more books.

  The doctor put down his cup. They always had tea together when he visited and discussed what Janna had been reading. “They’ve been trying to find a diplomatic solution for the past fifty years. Teodora’s predecessors were more tractable and allowed greater freedoms. They would give the Kronlanders enough independence to avert rebellion. Of course doing so meant weakening the empire over time and that’s something Teodora won’t stand for.”

  Janna sighed. “I don’t blame her for that. If I were empress I wouldn’t be keen on seeing my empire splinter into little pieces.”