The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  “You’re my friend,” Teodora said. “I will help you; I swear it.”

  Braeden

  For the first few days of their journey to Podoska, Trystan was in a terrible mood.

  “Lennart thinks I’m too young,” he grumbled. “He’ll give my command to someone else.”

  Braeden didn’t agree, though he didn’t know what was on Lennart’s mind. “I reckon he’ll give you an even bigger command when you come back with other allies.”

  “Oh come on.” Trystan’s tone was impatient. “Why would he give me anything when he has experienced commanders like Geffrey Manier, Count Faris, Alona Brynner or Tavio Sora? It makes little sense.”

  “It makes plenty of sense. You’re the only one who’s had a recent victory. Faris might have won at Birkenfels with Arryk, but that was years ago. You’re the only one who kept the fight alive in Terragand. And Lennart respects you a great deal; I can tell.”

  “You’re just saying that,” Trystan said, though Braeden could tell he was pleased.

  “I’ll repeat all that to your mother,” Braeden said in a teasing tone, though judging by the way the flush rose on Trystan’s cheeks, that might not be a bad idea either.

  “I doubt my mother will remember who I am,” Trystan said.

  “How many children ahead of you?” Braeden was sure it was many, but couldn’t recall the exact number.

  “Eleven.” Trystan scowled. “Five sisters and six brothers. Podoska isn’t big enough for all of them, and certainly not for me.”

  “You reckon your mother will want to help Lennart?”

  “I hope so.” Trystan sighed. “She was eager enough when Arryk invaded, but I haven’t been home since then. Who knows what’s going on now.”

  Trystan fell quiet as they approached the spires of Berolstein, Princess Edyta’s seat. Braeden had never seen a castle quite like it. Built on a flat hilltop taller than any others nearby, countless small towers sprouted from the sprawling walls, maybe one for each of the children, Braeden thought. They seemed very tiny, even up close. The overall effect would have been cheerful and fairytale-like, except the whole edifice was made of dark granite, with even darker slate rooftops. As Braeden and Trystan rode up to it, black clouds and thunder rolled overhead, and Braeden felt a cold shiver.

  “Don’t you worry about lightning with all those towers?” Braeden asked, grateful to be in the shelter of the gate before a downpour started.

  “Not really,” Trystan said. “Every tower has been struck several times, and nothing too terrible ever happens. There’ve only been a few fires.” He was clearly nervous as they rode into the courtyard. “Tell the princess I’m here,” he said to a servant who had come hurrying out and recognized Trystan.

  By the time they’d reached the great hall, teeming with activity, everyone knew he’d returned. For someone with such a big family, it was a peculiar homecoming. One young man was happy to see him, and a girl just a bit older than Trystan flung herself into his arms with a squeal, but the rest of the group seemed uninterested, and perhaps resentful. Braeden ignored that, and focused instead on the imposing woman seated at the head of a table stretching along one side of the hall. This was the famous Princess Edyta, the most unconventional and unpredictable of the Kronland rulers.

  “Have a seat, little one.” She waved Trystan to a chair near her. “And your scruffy friend too.” She looked Braeden over condescendingly.

  Braeden bowed before sitting down, though the princess didn’t seem to care what he did.

  “I’m surprised to see you after all this time.” The princess had strange yellowish eyes, much like Trystan’s, though they were far less friendly. “I was beginning to think you’d never come back.”

  Trystan shrugged. “It’s the first chance I’ve had. We were hard-pressed in Terragand for some time. But now that King Lennart’s here—”

  The princess interrupted him with a loud, insincere laugh. “Oh please, don’t tell me you’re here on that idiot’s behalf.”

  Trystan jumped up so fast his chair fell over. “Don’t be disrespectful, Mother. Lennart is a king, and the only ruler to do anything of note to save Kronland from Teodora.”

  “Sit down, sit down.” The princess snickered, and Trystan sat, though he still looked angry. “I’m just annoyed with you for being gone so long. Did it never occur to you that I’ve missed you terribly?”

  “No,” Trystan said, his eyes hard. “You never paid me any attention before I left, so I assume you didn’t miss me much.”

  “I noticed you weren’t here from time to time. And you are my littlest one, so you’re special to me.” The princess stared at her son in what Braeden guessed was supposed to be maternal affection, but the effect was all wrong.

  Trystan rolled his eyes. “That won’t do, Mother. I’m not little anymore, and if you’re going to be difficult, Commander Terris and I will leave and find allies elsewhere.”

  “I doubt you will. Who else would follow you?”

  Braeden cleared his throat. “Oltena definitely, and probably Lantura too. We also have high hopes of Isenwald and Aquianus. They helped King Arryk when he came, and Lennart has a far better chance of success.”

  The princess turned and fixed her unpleasant gaze on Braeden. “He speaks! A lot of nonsense, but still. I know who you are, and yes, I’m impressed. Somewhat.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Since you pulled off such a famous rescue, why aren’t you in charge of this operation? You have far more experience than this puppy here.”

  Trystan made an angry noise, and Braeden was annoyed on his behalf. If the woman hadn’t been a princess, he might have slapped her. He did his best to keep his voice calm. “Your son is an excellent commander who’s proven himself time and again. Lennart trusts him with good reason, and so do I.”

  “Oh very well then.” The princess huffed. “I can see the two of you are going to stick together. How annoying. Now go off to your rooms, and we’ll meet again for dinner so you can get acquainted with the rest of the family. Most of them are nicer than I am, so you needn’t worry.”

  “You’re such a liar, Mother.” Trystan stood. “I apologize,” he said to Braeden. “I’d hoped things had improved here, but they clearly haven’t. You can see why I left as soon as I was old enough.”

  Elektra

  Elektra was going mad with boredom. At the time of her imprisonment, her room only held two books—a life of Vica, recommended by Luca, and an infantry manual. After several weeks, she had them memorized and was sick of both. As the summer wore on, the temperature grew hot, and even with the windows wide open, the room was unpleasantly warm.

  She spent her days sleeping, or pacing the length of the room to keep up her physical condition, while trying to figure out a way to escape. At one point, she’d knotted together all of the sheets and blankets, hoping to create a climbing rope, but right after she realized it wasn’t long enough, a maid had come in and seen it. The next time a servant appeared, he took all of the bedding except for one sheet, and a blanket so thin it was see-through. She would need to get help, but after two months stuck here with no visitors besides her mother, she began to despair of that. She would have to wait for her mother’s return and then agree to her terms.

  It was hard not to lose hope. By now Aksel had likely converted, and there’d be no obstacle to their marriage. Elektra told herself that being married to Aksel would be nice, and she’d have to make the best of it. Being queen of Norovaea might be nice too, and she’d have to see it as practice for being empress later. Her mother wouldn’t live forever, so Elektra would bide her time and await her chance.

  Resignation didn’t make the time go by faster, but it diminished her frustration, at least a little. It was much more fun to daydream about marriage to Aksel than to fruitlessly scheme about how she might return to the army. And perhaps once they were married, Aksel would make use of her military talents for his own army. She asked a servant for a Norovaean dictionary, and to her surprise
, received it immediately. Perhaps her mother saw that as acquiescence. At least memorizing lists of foreign words gave her something to do.

  So when help came, Elektra was unprepared for it. She’d been sound asleep in the middle of the night, a light breeze blowing through the open window, when her door opened suddenly and a light flared up. Elektra sat up right away. Who would sneak in at this hour? The servants never appeared after sundown.

  “Shh, Your Grace,” a woman’s voice said, then a small lamp appeared on the table next to Elektra’s bed. The light flickered up to reveal the face of Countess Biaram.

  Elektra gasped. She’d always considered the countess one of her mother’s worst toadies, and wondered what she was doing here.

  “Please get dressed, Your Grace,” the countess said. “We must go quickly.”

  “Go where?” Elektra asked, though she scrambled out of bed. “To my mother?” She wasn’t keen on that, but it was better than being stuck here.

  “No.” The countess was rummaging through Elektra’s wardrobe, and pulled out a plain shirt and breeches. “I’m taking you to your officers.”

  “My regiment is still here?” Elektra was wide awake now, and hurrying to pull on her clothes.

  “No; it received orders to join Ensden in Terragand, and is already marching north. A few officers loyal to you remain in the city, and will help you get out so you can join the rest of your troops.”

  None of this made any sense to Elektra. If her officers were loyal, why had they taken so long to help her. “Why now?”

  The countess turned toward her. “There was not much point in springing you until they were ready to leave the city. It took time for them to work out who could help you inside the palace.”

  “You’re the last person I expected to do this,” Elektra admitted. “Why are you helping me?”

  “Because you will be empress someday.” The countess threw a cloak over Elektra’s shoulders. “Your mother wants us all to take sides, but I don’t see why I can’t be of help to both of you. If you are to be a strong ruler, it makes more sense for you to be independent now than under your mother’s thumb.”

  “I won’t argue with that,” Elektra said, as the door swung open silently. To her surprise, the corridor was unguarded.

  “I tampered with the guard schedule,” the countess said. “The next round will be here in a few minutes, but your door will be shut and they won’t suspect anything. There’ll be confusion among the servants in the morning, so with any luck, your disappearance won’t be noticed until evening. “

  They silently hurried along the palace’s vast corridors, down a back stairway and into rooms Elektra had never seen before.

  “Servant’s quarters,” the countess explained as she opened another door leading into what looked like the kitchen. The light from the lamp caught the glint of copper pots hanging from hooks, and Elektra’s shoes padded softly on the stone floor.

  The countess opened another door, and they entered a little garden. A gate creaked, and they stepped onto a street outside the palace. A horse nickered nearby, and Elektra stifled a scream as three shadowy figures appeared out of an alleyway. But then she recognized one of her officers, a Major Linser. She knew the two others behind him—a man and a woman—though she couldn’t recall their names, her head pounded so hard. “Thank the gods.” She swallowed down a sob of relief.

  “A horse, Your Grace.” Major Linser waved it forward. “It’s not yours, but the finest we could get under the circumstances.”

  “It’s perfect,” Elektra said, though she could discern only the animal’s ears in the shadows. She reached for the reins, then turned to Countess Biaram. “I’m so grateful,” she said. “Anything I can do for you, just ask.”

  “Nothing right now.” The countess smiled. “But I trust you’ll remember this the next time you hear from me.”

  “Oh, I will,” Elektra said, as she swung into the saddle.

  “And now we go,” the major said. “We must get as far as we can before the alarm is raised.”

  “Will they chase us?” Elektra asked, her euphoria fading as she realized she was still in danger.

  “Not if I can help it,” the countess said. “The empress is not in the capital, and I will order pursuit in a different direction. By the time Teodora returns, you will be over the mountains and well into Kronland.”

  “Where is the empress?” Elektra had a sudden nightmare of meeting her on the road.

  “In Capo, so you needn’t worry about running into her. I’m sure by the time she returns here, I can persuade her to leave you alone. She has other things to worry about.” The countess’s tone was ominous.

  Elektra shuddered, thinking she’d rather not know what those things were. “Let’s go.” And their horses moved quietly down the deserted streets, straight to the northern gate, which swung open after the major gave a password. It was only once they were on the road outside the city that Elektra realized she’d been holding her breath.

  Lennart

  A few hours of writing letters in one day was more than enough, as far as Lennart was concerned. He put his quill down, clapped the lid on the inkpot, and handed a stack of letters to the secretary.

  “Get these to the messenger,” he said. “I’m going to visit the Maximus.”

  He strode into the corridor, and waved to the guards who accompanied him everywhere.

  “Not going far,” he said, stepping out into the street.

  It was a sunny day in Heidenhof, something Lennart had learned to appreciate since coming to Kronland, where it seemed to rain constantly, no matter the time of year. He whistled as he sauntered down the busy street, dodging carts, horses and children.

  Things were finally going well again. General Kalstrom had recovered from his defeat and was helping Lofbrok fortify the northern shore of Kaltental harbor. They wouldn’t take the city from there, but Ensden couldn’t threaten them either. Isenberg was regrouping, and expected to be at full strength by the time Lennart needed her.

  After sweeping southeastern Terragand clear of imperial influence, Lennart had decided to spend a few weeks in Heidenhof. He installed Edric Maximus back in his palace, and himself in the burgomaster’s luxurious mansion. He cared little about its comforts, but wanted to be easily reached by messenger, since Raysa’s time was near. Lennart wrote to her every day now, replying to the letters she’d written daily ever since he’d come to Kronland. In some ways, he felt closer to her now than ever, and missed being near her at such an important time with an almost physical ache.

  He’d also written to all of the Kronland rulers, letting them know his plans, and asking for their support. He hoped a letter, followed by a personal visit from someone like Trystan or Braeden might do the job. But there was one more thing he wanted to accomplish during this little respite.

  Lennart wandered through the marketplace, happy to see at least half the square was filled with stalls. Even though times were bad, there were still a few farmers and merchants with goods to sell, and having a well-paid army garrisoned here meant they had customers with coin. Lennart wished Kendryk were here to see things were looking better, but hopefully it wouldn’t be long before matters improved all over Terragand.

  He stopped at a stand to buy a pastry, winked at the pretty girl working there, smiled at her blush, and walked on. By the time he’d reached Edric’s palace, he realized he had crumbs all over his doublet, so he paused at the main entrance to brush them off.

  “Here to visit the Maximus,” he said to the guard, knowing he’d be recognized.

  The contrast between the brightness outside, and the gloom as soon as he stepped into the palace was so great he could barely see for a moment. As he stood in the entryway, blinking like an owl, someone appeared before him.

  “The Maximus is busy,” a pleasant, though slightly sharp feminine voice said.

  “I imagine he is.” Lennart smiled, especially now that he made out a young priestess. “And you are?”

/>   “I am Mother Leiza.”

  Now he saw her a little more clearly, she wasn’t as young as he’d first thought. Perhaps around Lennart’s age, with a plain, serious face.

  “I manage the Maximus’s household. It’s best if you make an appointment with me and come back later.”

  Lennart chuckled. “The Maximus told me to drop by anytime, but didn’t mention the lioness guarding his den.”

  “Oh dear,” Mother Leiza said, clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t realize. I mean … I didn’t recognize you, Your Highness.”

  “Quite all right,” Lennart said. “No reason you should.” He likely would have made a better impression if he’d brought a few guards, and perhaps changed his shirt.

  “I’ll take you to him right away. I’m sure he’s eager to see you.” Leiza led him down a long corridor, then paused in front of a door. She turned to Lennart, frowning. “I’m not sure how to say this Your Highness, but I feel I must, before you go in to the Maximus.”

  “Go ahead,” Lennart said. “I’m not easily offended.” Perhaps she wanted to tell him to take a more formal tone with the Maximus.

  “It’s just—” Leiza’s hand came to her chin. “You’ve got crumbs in your beard … I’m terribly sorry …”

  “Not at all.” Lennart had to chuckle as he brushed at his beard. The pastry had been flakier than it looked. “Thank you for telling me.” He almost winked at Leiza, then remembered she was a priestess, and decided it wouldn’t be proper.

  She smiled, clearly relieved, and opened the door after a brief knock. “The king is here,” she said, beckoning Lennart in.

  The room was light, with the tall windows opened to the garden. The Maximus rose from a desk pushed off to one side.

  “Welcome, Your Highness,” he said, “and thank you Leiza. You can keep everyone else out for the time being. I’m glad you’ve come,” the Maximus said to Lennart as he led him to a chair. “We have a serious matter to discuss.”