The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

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The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3 Page 96

by Christina Ochs


  The climb took forever, but when he reached the fortress, he found eight guards in the gatehouse. He showed them the order and asked, “Who’s with the prince right now?”

  “Cramer, Schwarzer and Torrins,” the officer in charge said as he buckled on a belt of pistols. Everyone seemed excited to get a change from the boredom of guard duty.

  “That should be enough. I’ll stay till you lot come back.”

  “Good man,” the officer said, then rushed out the door after the others.

  Braeden waited until they disappeared, took a deep breath, drew his knife and entered the castle courtyard. Prince Kendryk stood on the opposite end.

  Kendryk

  Kendryk stared at the man. He looked rather familiar and very large, though Kendryk couldn’t quite place him. So this was who Teodora had sent. Even with his dagger, Kendryk didn’t stand a chance. He wondered if the guards would try to protect him, though he doubted they could succeed against such a brute.

  Time slowed and his vision turned into a dark tunnel, with only the big blond man at its end. From somewhere far away, Karil made a noise. “Get away from me, Karil,” Kendryk said, his voice sounding hollow in his ears.

  The man came closer. He was saying something to the guards, and they were looking back and forth between him and Kendryk. They stepped out of the way. So they wouldn’t protect him then. Kendryk pulled out the dagger.

  One of the guards said, “See here now. What’s going on?”

  Kendryk shook his head and focused on the big man, who at least had come no closer. But now he spotted the knife, a great curved thing that dwarfed his dagger. Kendryk hoped it was sharp, so it would be quick. Still, he felt obliged to put up what fight he could. He wouldn’t have it said he submitted peacefully.

  Suddenly, a guard lunged toward him. Kendryk stepped back just quickly enough to stay out of reach. Instinctively, he jumped to the side as the guard circled around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other two guards fall. Maybe they had tried to protect him after all. Seemed this one didn’t want to.

  The guard kept coming, sword drawn. Kendryk thought he might be able to slide the dagger in under the man’s armor. He was in good practice after all of the play fighting with Karil. He wondered vaguely where Karil was, hoping he stayed out of the way. The guard lunged at him again and Kendryk danced aside.

  “By Ercos, that’s enough!” he heard, and they both stopped, puzzled. The big blond man covered the ground to the guard in two steps and cut his throat before Kendryk could make sense of what was happening. He froze, stunned, then recovered enough to brace himself for what was coming.

  “You did it!” Karil said, stepping out from behind the big man. That seemed odd.

  “You might as well finish me off,” Kendryk said, facing him. The man had killed three heavily armed guards in less than a minute. Kendryk was clearly no match for him.

  To his surprise, both Karil and the man laughed.

  “You’ll forgive me if I don’t find this funny,” he said, offended and more than a little hurt at Karil’s gloating.

  “You’re right, it’s not funny.” The man wiped blood from his face, the long knife still in his left hand. “We’ve got to go before someone raises the alarm.”

  “What?”

  “Braeden’s here to rescue us,” Karil chimed in, looking at the man in rather worshipful fashion.

  “Oh,” Kendryk said. “I thought you were sent to kill me.”

  “No, that would be this fellow it seems,” the man called Braeden pushed at Kendryk’s attacker with his foot. He appeared quite dead. “I’m here to take you away.” He bent down and pulled a ring of keys from the guard’s belt. “I hope these open the gates.”

  “Thank the gods.” Kendryk kept his dagger out. He still couldn’t believe what was happening. “Where are the other rescuers?”

  “There’s no one else.” The man chuckled, though Kendryk didn’t see what was so funny. “We’ve got to go right now. I’ll explain it all to you later.”

  “I’m coming too?” Karil said. Kendryk noticed the question in his voice and the hopeful look in his eyes. It was clear from the man’s reaction he hadn’t planned on taking Karil along.

  “Of course you are,” Kendryk said firmly.

  “Yes, yes, naturally,” the other man said. “Good thing I brought a spare mount. Now away we go.” He herded the two of them down the stairs. Kendryk kept his dagger out, worried they might run into someone on the way out, but no one came. Surely this Braeden fellow hadn’t killed all of the guards in the castle with only that knife?

  They burst out onto the street and horses materialized out of an alleyway. Kendryk swung into the saddle of the first one, surprised at how his muscles screamed. He realized he hadn’t been on horseback in over four years.

  “The western gate,” Braeden said. “Hurry.”

  Kendryk spurred his horse to a gallop. The hoof-beats on cobblestones sounded loud enough to rouse the whole city, though the streets were strangely empty. He saw the gate ahead and the clattering sound was joined by temple bells.

  “Someone has raised the alarm,” Braeden said behind him. “We will have to fight the guards at the gate. Pray there aren’t too many.”

  For the first time in years, Kendryk prayed.

  Teodora

  “Deploy your troops on the right,” Teodora said to Demario once they cleared the city gates, sounding sharper than she intended. “You’ll stay with me, I hope?” She softened her tone and smiled at him.

  He smiled back. “I’d like nothing better.” He stayed back to issue a few orders, then caught up to her. “Even with Orland at full strength, we easily outnumber him. He might have stolen a march on us, but we can’t let him take the initiative.”

  “I agree. Let’s move on him at once.” Most units weren’t yet in place—many were still coming out of the city—but Teodora was eager to get this over with.

  “Shall we send Tomescu out first?”

  “No, she’ll be better used to mop up afterward. Her riders are most tenacious in hunting down survivors.” Teodora smiled to herself. Arian Orland was in for a big surprise.

  Straight ahead, she spotted his cavalry. The first column emerged from the trees at the foot of a hill and Teodora ordered her own light cavalry to advance. She only had Zastwar mercenaries, but they would create confusion, and that was all she needed right now. The infantry advanced behind them.

  She turned to Demario and smiled again. “It’s good to be fighting together again, isn’t it? The two of us.”

  “At least we’re not fighting each other, like most couples do.” His smile, full of warmth and humor, was the one she had fallen in love with so long ago.

  She realized suddenly she would never see it again and that almost made her hesitate. But she reminded herself that he’d been lost to her for months now and that smile was nothing but a ghost visiting from the past.

  Now troops surrounded them. The cavalry engaged Orland’s vanguard, the infantry right behind them. When Demario looked away, Teodora signaled to her guard. They came in closer, cutting off most of the Maladene general staff. In the confusion, it wasn’t very noticeable.

  Demario turned back to her. “Shall we advance?” he asked. “I can’t see anything from here.”

  “Of course. You first.”

  “No, you should have the honor. Your troops expect it.”

  “If you insist.” Teodora pulled forward, conscious of her guards right behind her. She wondered if he noticed that.

  Suddenly he was beside her again.

  She stopped.

  “My dear,” he said, “I am so very sorry.”

  His pistol already pointed at her, but Teodora’s captain of the guard was faster. She was on him in a flash, knocking the pistol out of his hand as it fired. The bullet hit someone behind Teodora, but she wasn’t about to turn around to see who it was.

  By now, two of her guard had pulled him from his horse and held him. The re
st kept the other Maladene officers at bay.

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Teodora said, jumping off her horse. “I should have known better than to trust a man. You’re a liar like the rest of them.”

  “I wasn’t always.” Demario seemed unperturbed in spite of having seconds left to live. “I really did love you. But you turned into the monster everyone says you are and made it impossible to continue.”

  “You’re the one who’s made it impossible with your ridiculous, hopeless conspiracy. And yes, I know who else is involved, since your precious Brytta sang like a lark the moment my interrogator put the screws to her. Braeden Terris will die as soon as I find him, while Arian Orland enjoys Daciana’s attentions.” Teodora drew her dagger. “Take off his cuirass,” she said to the guards. She wanted to do this properly.

  Teodora walked up to him and looked straight into his dark eyes. She only now realized they’d held no feeling for her for many months. “I still love you, you know,” she said, sliding the dagger between his ribs and into his heart. She pulled him away from the guards and held him as he slumped.

  Teodora had thought she’d want to kick and stomp on his dead body, but instead, she felt like crying. She lowered it gently to the ground while the battle raged around her. Then she stood up and looked at the Maladene colonel who was nearest, his eyes round with shock. “It turns out your beloved general was a traitor,” she said, wiping the dagger with her sash. “Now you work for me. Anyone who protests can have some of this.” She pointed the dagger straight at him. For all she knew he was part of the conspiracy as well, but as long as he behaved himself now, she would let him live until after the battle.

  He swallowed hard and nodded. “What are your orders, Your Highness?”

  “Call for Daciana Tomescu and finish Arian Orland. She can follow him if he tries to retreat.”

  Before she returned to her horse, she heard a shout. A messenger was shoving his way through the troops ordered all around her. “Your Highness,” he yelled over the tops of several heads. “Someone has broken into the Arnfels and slain the guards.”

  Teodora could think of only one thing. “Prince Kendryk?” she asked. She should have known Brytta was holding something back.

  By now, a path had opened for the messenger. He nodded, breathless. “We still don’t know how it happened, but the gates of the fortress stand wide open and the prince is gone.”

  “Seal the city,” she said. “Bar the gates and leave them shut until I order otherwise. No one gets out. Oh, and tell the guards at all the gates to shoot Prince Kendryk on sight.”

  She took one more look at Demario’s body, then faced forward. It was the only way to go.

  Gwyneth

  Gwynneth was relieved to be in a pleasant place, with nothing to do except think about what to wear for dinner. All the time and money spent on dresses in Sanova now paid off. She was making an impression at the Galladian court, known for its finery. With her elaborate Sanovan wardrobe, Gwynneth struck just the right note of fashion-forward and exotic. It was gratifying when other ladies copied her dresses.

  Natalya had arranged for a little townhouse for them to live in and insisted on paying for it. “It’s befitting your station to have your own house,” she said. “And I know you have little money right now. It’s all right.” She took Gwynneth’s hand when she made a face. “I’m sure all of that will change soon. And I will always owe you help when you need it.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Your kindness changed my life when we were girls. I would not be here today if it weren’t for you.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “No, it’s true. You gave me confidence and made me feel like I was worth something. Until I came to Arenberg, I believed I wasn’t.”

  The daughter of an important Sanovan nobleman, ten-year-old Natalya had arrived in Arenberg as part of a complicated hostage deal in the treaty ending a series of wars between Norovaea and Sanova.

  Gwynneth remembered how shy and frightened she had been, but they became fast friends and were inseparable until Natalya left for Atlona to pursue a religious education. Gwynneth had missed her friend, but was proud of her accomplishments. She understood better than anyone Natalya’s need to distinguish herself. In that, they were more alike than sisters.

  Gwynneth’s house was in the best part of Allaux, just down the street from the Maxima’s palace. Gwynneth and Natalya saw each other daily while Maryna and Devyn both received lessons at the main temple. It was an excellent education and similar to what Kendryk had received at the same age. Gwynneth was beginning to wonder if they would spend the next several years in Allaux.

  She hardly dared contemplate it, but she was almost certain that Teodora would kill Kendryk when Lennart invaded. At that point, she would no longer care about angering Natalya. Even though Natalya assured Gwynneth she was working on another plan to help Kendryk, Gwynneth exhausted herself with frantic worry. And now she had less to do, it was too easy to envision the most gruesome scenarios. Natalya advised her to pray, so Gwynneth visited the temple morning and night, but even that didn’t diminish the knot in the pit of her stomach.

  She also decided it was time for Maryna to spend time at court. At nine, she was a little too young—Gwynneth had been eleven when she first joined her parents—but she would take on her responsibilities soon if Teodora killed Kendryk.

  “What did you think?” Gwynneth asked Maryna after her first day in attendance on King Gauvain.

  “His job seems very difficult,” Maryna said.

  Gwynneth smiled to herself. She had expected a little girl to notice the beautiful dresses and jewelry and the tiny dogs that many ladies carried with them everywhere. “Yes, it is difficult, I’m sure.”

  “Is it the same in Terragand?”

  “Not quite. Terragand is much smaller, and your father’s court much more informal. He received petitioners in his study or went out to the towns. He had no throne room or hundreds of courtiers.”

  “That’s good,” Maryna said gravely. “It’s much easier to do one’s work when there isn’t such a fuss.”

  “Did you like those little dogs? Do you want one?”

  Maryna’s face brightened. “I do. Though …” Her face fell again. “Will I have to leave it behind when we go home?”

  “Of course not. That’s the point of having one that small. You can carry it everywhere.”

  “I even saw some being carried around in those tiny jeweled bags. That doesn’t seem very kind.”

  “You needn’t do that. Do you want a black one, or a white one?”

  “I will have to think about it. Perhaps I’ll ask Devyn, since I’m sure he’ll want to play with it too.”

  “Devyn can have one of his own, if he wants. Do you want to tell him?” Of all her children, Devyn was the greatest animal lover and had begged for a pet ever since they left his kittens behind at Birkenfels after the siege was lifted. For months after all he talked about was “visiting” his cats again. Gwynneth smiled after Maryna as she ran off to find her brother, then turned to a pile of letters on her desk.

  She saw the one on top had come by messenger from Norovaea, so she opened it first, hoping for news of her brothers. Her smile fled when she started reading.

  * * *

  “You must help us Gwynn,” Arryk wrote. “Mattila followed us to Norovaea and has sacked Arenberg. Aksel, Classen and most of the nobility got away, but we left everything else behind. I worry about the people remaining in the city with that monster on the loose. I’m in the fortress at Vastivik and we must hold out or die. Please persuade Natalya to send help.”

  * * *

  Gwynneth threw the letter down. Mattila’s persistence surprised her and she also knew Natalya wouldn’t oppose her openly right now. She pondered for a long time, then picked up her quill.

  * * *

  “No one can help for several months,” she wrote. “Lennart plans to invade as soon as he can, but it might be too lat
e. You must sue for peace. Teodora doesn’t want Norovaea. Give her your pledge that you will stay out of the empire.”

  * * *

  She felt terrible. Her brother had done all of this to save her and now she couldn’t help him. She hoped Mattila could be reasoned with. Even if she couldn’t, she would surely leave Norovaea once Lennart made his move. Gwynneth prayed he could do it quickly.

  Arryk

  More and more, Arryk wished he’d died on the battlefield. It was what he wanted after losing Larisa. Then Gwynneth would have become queen and someone competent would be in charge here now, instead of him. Anyone but him. It seemed impossible to salvage the situation, but he had no choice except to carry on.

  To his relief the Norovaean people were far more resolute than the nobility. With Mattila’s forces on their soil, they quickly rallied when called upon. Arryk occupied the largest castle at Vastivik and sent Classen and what remained of his officers to occupy the rest. Mattila held the capital, but she wouldn’t get anything else.

  Still, it was hard to hold her off. She sent sizable forces into the countryside, stealing food and burning villages. Since it remained bitterly cold, those who lost their homes were in grave danger. Arryk tried to find shelter for most of them in the fortresses no matter how crowded.

  The sturdy Norovaean peasants made excellent guerrilla troops and he found some satisfaction in leading raids on Mattila’s forces camped all around Arenberg. He couldn’t defeat her on the field, but might make her life miserable with endless hit and run attacks in a different area every day. But that wasn’t enough to make her leave.

 

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