The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  “Very well.” The hope of high-level help seemed to convince the captain, and that was all it took.

  In less than an hour, Elektra’s small force was riding for the gate of Princess Zelenka’s palace. By the time they reached it, twenty guards blocked their path.

  “What will we do, Your Grace?” the captain, now riding at her side, muttered.

  “We ride straight through. They are not enough to stop us.” Elektra raised her pistol, and spurred her horse. “Follow me, and don’t stop until we’ve reached the other side of the gate.”

  Lennart

  The weather turned suddenly, with nothing left of the golden autumn. Still, it felt good to be on campaign again. The fog muffled the sounds of marching feet behind Lennart; even the jangle of his horse’s harness seemed muted. He had to move cautiously. With visibility so poor, he risked stumbling upon the enemy before he was ready.

  Lennart had sent scouts ahead on both sides of the river, even though he was certain the enemy had camped on the right bank. The dense fog blocked all sight of the river to his left, so he pulled out Raysa’s most recent letter to pass the time. Creased and dirty, he’d already read it at least a dozen times, since it was the first long one she’d sent after little Kataryna’s birth.

  The naming service at the temple had gone well. Lennart had been worried because he needed his heir to be named and dedicated under the Quadrene creed. He could hardly lead an army against the old faith while his only child was blessed under its tenets. He and Raysa had agreed to a compromise, since he realized her own faith’s blessing was important to her: she would take the baby for a public blessing in the Tharvik main temple, then conduct a small, private ceremony at the palace while her priestess did the honors. But that hadn’t been necessary.

  * * *

  “The Maximus was so kind,” Raysa wrote. “He called on me and Mother Kassya, explained the ceremony, and the reasons behind everything he said and did. I was so pleased to find he’d use the words directly from the Holy Scrolls, since I’d worried your Edric Maximus had conceived of new rituals. Even Mother Kassya couldn’t find fault with words given us by the gods, and decided she’d bless Kataryna right beside the Maximus. It was very touching, and the people in the temple were so excited to see the baby. I nearly cried through the whole ceremony.”

  * * *

  Lennart smiled, imagining the pretty picture his wife and daughter must have made. If his people hadn’t loved Raysa so far, surely they would now. He wished he had been there, but was glad it was done. Ludvik Meldahl had already drawn up new documents for the succession, appointing himself and Raysa as joint regents until Kataryna turned seventeen, should anything happen to the king. Lennart offered a quick prayer that he’d still be alive to celebrate that birthday alongside his daughter, with no need for her to take on responsibilities prematurely.

  He’d also written to Princess Rheda in Helvundala as soon as he knew he had a girl, asking her to consider a future marriage between Kataryna and Toland Falk, Helvundala’s young ruler. He hadn’t received a reply yet, but didn’t expect any objection. It was soon to be making such plans, but Lennart liked the boy, and a marriage with Helvundala would be a painless way to extend Estenor’s influence into that kingdom.

  He folded up the letter and stuffed it in his pocket, whistling a cheery tune under his breath.

  “Your Highness, please,” a young officer riding at his side said. “We do not know how near the enemy is. Any noise …”

  “Oh, right,” Lennart said, finding it hard to be quiet when he felt so happy. So he contented himself with daydreaming just a little. After a quick victory over the enemy here, he’d head straight for Kaltental. Tora Isenberg stood by to set sail as soon as Lennart arrived, and even sent word that Prince Kendryk had persuaded Prince Dahlby to offer troops from Ummarvik. They wouldn’t be many, but with the troops Braeden and Trystan brought would represent half of the Kronland kingdoms. Lennart was sure that the remaining rulers—except for Arcius—wouldn’t be far behind, especially if he soon delivered a victory over Ensden.

  That done, he would bring his wife and daughter over, just for a short visit. He missed Raysa terribly and couldn’t wait to meet the little one.

  “Your Highness, the enemy lies ahead.” A scout appeared out of the fog, his face muffled in a large scarf.

  “How far?” Lennart asked.

  “Not two leagues to their pickets.”

  “Hold up,” Lennart whispered the order, and the marching behind him came to a halt. Then he listened carefully as the scout explained the enemy disposition. “It’s not ideal,” Lennart told his officers, “but we’ll have to make it work. We still have surprise on our side, but getting our numbers into that narrow valley will be difficult.”

  The scout’s best guess was that there were under three thousand of the enemy, a mix of infantry and cavalry, camped in a valley along the river, with artillery placed on the high ground. As long as the fog held, Lennart decided not to worry about those guns just yet.

  Geffrey Manier objected when Lennart insisted on leading the attack. “It’s too risky, Your Highness. We cannot have anything happening to you, especially in such a minor engagement.”

  “Nothing will happen.” Lennart grinned, while a servant strapped on his cuirass. “I doubt they’ll even see me.”

  “Oh, they’ll see you.” Manier eyed Lennart’s burly frame. “Even in this fog. And they’ll be expecting you. All it will take is one lucky shot—”

  “That’s enough now,” Lennart said, his tone friendly, but making it clear there’d be no further argument. “I’m leading, and that’s final. You can ride beside me. It’s only right to have Kronland represented like this.”

  That mollified Manier, who swung into his saddle after strapping on his armor. “You’re right.” He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “And I know you’re a trusting sort, but if I were you, I’d keep an eye on Tavio Sora and Alona Brynner. There’s no telling what they’ll do if things turn against us, even for a moment.”

  “I only look like a trusting sort.” Lennart said. “I’ve been keeping an eye on those two since the beginning. Let’s do this before the fog lifts.”

  Teodora

  “But I’ll die!” Zofya wailed when Teodora informed her she was going to Galladium.

  “No one ever died of a bad marriage.” Teodora had expected trouble from Zofya, but it didn’t matter. Now she had a plan for Daciana’s mission in place, there was no time to waste.

  “But it’s the middle of winter; surely I’ll die of cold, going all that way, over those mountains.” Zofya’s eyes were wide, as if she expected to run into snow monsters.

  Teodora shook her head. “People travel back and forth all year round, and you’ll have a warm carriage. I’m also having a lovely fur cloak made for you.”

  “You are? Might I see it?”

  “It was to be a surprise, so not yet. But don’t worry; it’s fit for a queen.” Teodora was relieved, though not altogether surprised, that Zofya hadn’t mentioned Aksel Roussay. Perhaps her guess was right, and Zofya had forgotten about him after all this time apart.

  Zofya slid back into her chair, worry in her eyes. “I was sure I wouldn’t go until I was at least sixteen. I’m not sure I’m ready to be married, especially not to some old king.”

  “I’d wanted to wait, but your progress at school has been so good, it seems you’re ready now. And the sooner you are established in Allaux, the better.” Teodora would say nothing about the assassination plan. “Galladium has been a very unsatisfactory ally, and I’m counting on you to change that.”

  “I’m not sure I can, all by myself.”

  Teodora almost couldn’t bear to look at her daughter; she seemed so small and vulnerable huddled in the big chair. She wondered if the ritual had made her go soft. But neither of them had a choice. Teodora had received worrisome reports that Gauvain was looking to Maladena for a marriage, and Teodora could not allow that to ha
ppen. She wouldn’t feel secure until one daughter sat on the Galladian throne, and another on the Norovaean.

  She’d received word of Elektra’s mishap in Lantura from Princess Zelenka, so it was only a matter of time before the girl came crawling back. Elektra had been full of herself, but only because she’d had everything handed to her. It was quite another matter to lead a small army through hostile territory in the winter. This time she’d have no money, no allies, no chance of success.

  For the moment, all her hopes rested on this daughter, so she forced herself to smile at Zofya. “You’ve been taught everything you need, and you are an excellent student. Everything depends on your relationship with the king, and I’m certain you will win him over. He has a weakness for pretty women, and you, my dear, are very pretty.”

  “Am I? You’re not just saying that because you’re my mother?” Zofya flushed with pleasure, which made her even prettier. She’d inherited Teodora’s dark hair, even features and pale skin, but she was altogether softer and daintier.

  “I would never coddle you or give you false compliments; you know that about me by now. You’ve turned out well, and I’m pleased. It will make your job much easier. All you have to do is make your husband fall in love with you, and that ought to be easy enough. Once he sees you, and realizes how clever and sweet you are, it won’t take long.” Teodora drummed her fingers on the table, wondering how much information she ought to give Zofya. She decided a little was better than none. “You’ve probably heard rumors of the king’s other relationships. The one with Natalya seems to be over, but he’s now involved with Princess Gwynneth.”

  “But she’s so beautiful,” Zofya said. “And clever too. I can’t compete.”

  “Gwynneth won’t be around much longer. I’m sure the king will be sorry to see her go, but you can offer him comfort.”

  “I see.” Zofya still looked uncertain, but she seemed to catch on quickly enough.

  “And it’s critical you have a child as soon as possible. Once you’ve given the king an heir, your position will be certain, and you will wield considerable power, whether or not the Galladians like it.”

  “Yes, I understand all about that.” Zofya was looking more self-assured already. “I’ve learned a great deal about politics and the Galladian court, and I know having a baby is most important. I hope I will like the king well enough that it’s not too hard.”

  “You liked him well enough when I first told you it might not work out. Quite the tantrum you threw, as I recall.” Teodora remembered that with amusement.

  “Yes, I remember. But that was before I met …” Zofya trailed off, then closed her eyes. “Oh Mother, I’ve tried so hard to stop thinking of Aksel. I know I’ll never see him again, but I worry I’ll always be in love with him, and that my husband won’t compare.” A tear rolled down one cheek when she reopened her eyes.

  So she hadn’t forgotten.

  Teodora was a little sympathetic, remembering her own engagement to a man she’d just met, and already disliked. She hadn’t been in love with anyone else, but could think of a half dozen other young men she would have preferred. “You can’t look at it that way. A husband is a husband, and love has little to do with your relationship. It’s better if you can be friends, but it’s not required. And once you’ve had a child or two, you can amuse yourself with a man more to your liking.”

  “That seems very far away,” Zofya said. “And I can’t picture liking anyone in Galladium. They’ll all be odd and foreign.”

  “They will, at first. But in time, you’ll become accustomed to them, and I’m sure you’ll even meet people you like. I’ll send a few of your friends and cousins with you to keep you company. But no matter how long you live there, or how many children of yours are Galladian royalty, never forget who you are and where you belong. You are an Inferrara, a daughter of Olvisya, and your first loyalty will always be to the empire. Is that understood?”

  Zofya lifted her head, her eyes shining. “I understand.”

  Gwynneth

  Gwynneth had worried about a confrontation with Natalya when she reached Allaux, but nothing happened right away.

  Gauvain came to her upon her return, her children in tow.

  “Thank you for keeping them safe,” Gwynneth said, after the excitement of their reunion had died down and they’d gone to the nursery. “I’m so sorry about Joslyn.”

  “Natalya won’t return her.” The king sat across from Gwynneth, looking weary, and as if he’d aged ten years while she’d been away. “I don’t even know where she’s keeping her. I suppose since using her as hostage for my good behavior worked once, she’ll keep using her that way.”

  “I wish there were a way for me to help you somehow.” Gwynneth felt a pang of helpless despair. “But I’m sure she’ll never listen to me again. Was she furious?” Gwynneth whispered, casting a glance at the closed study door. At this point she trusted none of her servants, and hoped no one had a way of listening at the door. Upon her return, she’d had the room’s furniture moved all the way to the windows, claiming she needed the light, especially now autumn was turning to winter.

  “Oh yes.” The king looked at the door too, and slid his chair a little closer to Gwynneth’s. “She was very angry, though she remained calm. It was frightening, to be honest.”

  “I expected her to appear right away to shout at me,” Gwynneth said. “I almost wish she would. I do feel terrible.”

  “You shouldn’t,” the king said. “This was my decision, and my mistake. You were only being a loyal friend.”

  “Not to Natalya,” Gwynneth said.

  She didn’t have to wait long, though long enough that her nerves were tightly wound by the time Natalya appeared.

  Gwynneth looked at her carefully, trying to gauge her mood. Natalya’s eyes were hard, but that had been usual lately. When Gwynneth began with an apology, she raised her hand.

  “There’s no need for any of that,” Natalya said. “It’s in the past, and frankly, I don’t wish to hear any excuse you’ve concocted.”

  Gwynneth’s cheeks burned, but she bit her tongue. She probably deserved whatever was coming.

  Natalya took a seat, warming her hands at the fire. She stared into the flames for a moment, then said, “We must look to the future, don’t you agree?”

  “I do,” Gwynneth said. “I’ve given it a great deal of thought, and it’s best that I leave, the sooner the better.”

  “Where would you go?” Natalya said. “I don’t dislike being rid of you, but it seems hardhearted to put you and your children out just as winter is coming, especially since you have no home.”

  It was hard to keep from bursting into tears. Natalya no longer spoke to her as a friend, even an annoying one. It seemed Gwynneth had killed her oldest friendship. “I’ll find a place,” Gwynneth choked out.

  “No.” Natalya turned to face her. “I think it’s best you stay here for a time. It seems you owe me a favor or two; don’t you agree?”

  Gwynneth nodded miserably, realizing she was unlikely to enjoy any task Natalya found for her.

  “Good.” Natalya settled back into her chair. “Once Terragand is safe, I won’t keep you from joining your husband, but for now, you can make yourself useful here.”

  “All right,” Gwynneth said, unsure if she should be relieved that at least Natalya wouldn’t keep her from Kendryk. She prayed Lennart would hurry up and win.

  “Let’s start with the king,” Natalya said.

  “I understand if you don’t want me to see him anymore. And since Joslyn is staying with you now, he has no reason to visit.” It seemed best not to comment on that situation.

  “He doesn’t have that reason.” Natalya smiled coldly. “But he’ll still want to see you from time to time. He’s become rather accustomed to complaining about me to you, and I hate to deny him that comfort. But when he sees you, things will be different.”

  Gwynneth couldn’t speak, suspecting what was coming next.

 
; Natalya leaned forward just a little. “From now on, you will report everything to me. Every detail of your conversation, no matter how irrelevant it seems.”

  “The king doesn’t confide in me about policy.”

  “That’s all right, though I’ll be happier if you lead him in that direction.”

  Gwynneth nodded, realizing she’d find a way to leave Galladium as quickly as possible, no matter the weather.

  “And I will know if you don’t tell me the truth, or don’t tell me everything.”

  Gwynneth wasn’t sure how that could be true, but decided she didn’t want to test it. “All right,” she said, her mouth dry. “I’ll tell you everything, no matter how trivial.”

  Natalya stood. “That’s a good start.” She turned toward Gwynneth. “I understand you don’t like this, but don’t plan on leaving right now. You will remain my guest here in this house and all your needs will be seen to. But I’m afraid I’m unable to come up with any pocket money for you, and can no longer keep up the expense of your own carriage. Naturally, you can use one of mine any time you want.”

  In other words, Gwynneth had no way to leave. And after the failure of her mission, she couldn’t rely on the king to help her either. She would have to do as Natalya wanted, and wait for a chance to get away.

  Anton

  Susanna poked Anton’s ribs. “Time to get up, sleepyhead.”