The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  “Lennart reckons he’ll be in Atlona before winter,” Anton said, hoping it would happen.

  “That would be nice, but I’ve learned not to expect too much.” Kendryk’s eyes clouded over, and he was silent for a moment. Then he said, “But Teodora or not, I will need my own army, with its own cavalry. I’ll put one of my experienced officers in charge—someone like Merton. But I’d like to give you a horse, equipment and a commission.”

  Anton stared. “As in an officer commission?”

  “Yes,” Kendryk said, a faint smile on his lips.

  “But I was only ever a page.” Anton didn’t want to argue, but he still couldn’t believe it.

  “An excellent one. Arian told me how brave and resourceful you were. You showed that ten times over when you helped me escape. I’ve always wanted to reward you for that, and couldn’t until now. Please let me do this for you, if you want it.”

  “I want it,” Anton said, a lump growing in his throat. He doubted he’d ever see Skandar again, but now he’d get a new horse; something that had been only a dream for so long. “Thank you,” he said, looking Kendryk in the eye. “I won’t disappoint you—I promise.”

  Lennart

  “You’ll wear a groove in the dock, Your Highness,” Tora Isenberg said with a smile.

  Lennart smiled back, but didn’t stop pacing. He’d spotted the sail on the horizon, but with the seaward wind so stiff, it might take the better part of an hour for the ship to claw its way into the harbor.

  Isenberg kept up with him all the same, and soon Leyf Lofbrok joined them. Lennart remembered a joke he was sure Lofbrok didn’t know, and Isenberg knew a more ribald version of it. They passed the time with laughter, though Lennart’s face was stiff with cold by the time the ship drew near.

  He stopped pacing and stood at the end of the gangplank impatiently, forced to acknowledge a long string of functionaries disembarking, come from Tharvik to pay their respects. He didn’t need them here, but since he’d been gone for so long, no doubt the more insecure wanted to be sure of the king’s favor. “Damn nuisance,” Lennart muttered to himself as an elegant aristocrat bowed low before him, but remembered to offer a polite smile before the idiot left him alone.

  At last it was time. From somewhere behind him, Lofbrok shouted orders, and he heard the muffled clatter of hundreds of troops drawing themselves to attention. A trumpet sounded, and there she was finally, making her way down the gangplank, clutching a fur cloak close against the wind. A strand of hair, the color of light honey, came loose and whipped across her face.

  Lennart couldn’t wait any longer, and bounded up the gangplank, pulling Raysa into his arms, even as cheers went up behind him. He pulled back a little, then kissed her all over her cold face until her tears wet his lips. “Is everything all right?” He looked down at her.

  “It’s perfect,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you so terribly.” She wiped her eyes with the back of a gloved hand, and smiled. “Do you want to see your daughter?”

  Lennart wondered if his face might split from grinning. He’d stopped the queen’s entourage in the middle of the swaying gangplank, but he wasn’t about to move until he held his little girl in his arms.

  Silvya Meldahl stepped out from behind Raysa, holding a fur-wrapped bundle. “The Princess Kataryna,” she said with her solemn air, placing the bundle into Lennart’s arms. He pushed fur out of the way until he saw a large blue eye peering up at him, then pushed some more until he saw the other eye, a tiny nose, and a mouth like a rosebud. A surge of emotion caught him off guard, and he had to look away and blink for a moment.

  Raysa tugged at his arm. “We must get her out of the wind.”

  “Of course.” Lennart held the baby tight in one arm, offered the other to Raysa, and they stepped onto the dock, into a pandemonium of cheering, the late afternoon sunlight catching the glitter of armor, the breeze waving green banners lining the way back to their carriage.

  “You didn’t have to make such a fuss,” Raysa said, once the door shut behind them and the carriage lurched forward.

  “How could I not? This is a big moment for me, but it’s also important for Estenor. And all of these troops here—they haven’t been home in a long time, and you’re their queen. Some of these fellows are nearly as excited as I am.”

  The baby struggled in Lennart’s arms, then made a few pitiful squeaking noises. He peered into her face anxiously as she screwed it up into a scowl. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Raysa laughed. “She doesn’t like being wrapped up so tightly. She especially hates anything on her head, much like her father.” She took Kataryna onto her lap and pulled the fur hood back.

  When Lennart looked again, the blue eyes were wide, the toothless mouth open. “Do you reckon she’s afraid of me?”

  “Like you, she isn’t afraid of anyone, though I’m sure she’s curious.”

  Lennart hadn’t known what to expect, having never spent time with babies, and was delighted by her chubby beauty. “She looks just like you,” he said. “If you were fatter.”

  “You should have seen me right before my time. I was fat.”

  Lennart put an arm around his wife. “I’m sure you looked beautiful.” Though it was true when he squeezed her shoulder, it didn’t feel as fragile as before. “Seems motherhood agrees with you.” He squeezed again, a little lower this time.

  Raysa snuggled into his side. “It does. I always worried a little, that I wouldn’t know what to do. But of course she has several nurses who take care of everything, and all I have to do is play with her.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Lennart said, as the carriage pulled into the courtyard of the burgomaster’s house.

  “What a charming little house.” Raysa handed the baby back to Silvya, who’d appeared out of nowhere.

  “It’s smaller than what you’re used to, but we won’t be here long.” Lennart tucked her hand under his arm as they walked through the door. “As soon as you’ve recovered from the journey, we’ll head south.”

  Raysa stopped and frowned. “To war?”

  “Yes,” Lennart said. “To war.”

  Epilogue

  “Maryna, is that you?” King Arryk sprang off his chair and ran to meet her, sweeping her into his arms. He didn’t seem to care that dozens of people stood around staring, so Maryna decided she didn’t mind either.

  She threw her arms around her uncle’s neck, burying her face in his shoulder. She hoped she’d been able to hide her surprise at how much he’d changed. “It’s good to see you, Your Highness.” She pulled back to smile at him as he put her down. Though she’d grown almost as tall as her mother, Uncle Arryk had still scooped her up as if she were a little girl.

  He grinned down at her, and kept an arm around her shoulders as he turned to face Natalya. That smile was the same too, though the rest of his face was worn, his eyes blank and sad. He had become old in the few years since Maryna had last seen him. “What brings you to Arenberg, Your Holiness?” He frowned. “It’s not a good time for a visit. The situation is unstable and dangerous.”

  “That’s why I’m here.” Natalya offered a graceful curtsy. For this visit, she’d changed back into her old Maxima’s robes, which made her look dignified and radiant. Maryna expected her uncle to fall in love with her at once, although Natalya explained they didn’t like each other very much. They had been children together in Arenberg and had never gotten on. Maryna hoped that might change now they were both grownups. Arryk needed someone to make him happy, and Maryna knew Natalya was lonely now that King Gauvain had Zofya.

  “I don’t understand,” Arryk said, showing the two of them into a small antechamber, shutting out the curious stares of the courtiers in the throne room. “But come, I’ll send for refreshments and you can tell me everything.”

  Maryna was still half-frozen from coming off the ship, and sipped happily at a large mug of chocolate, while eying a platter piled with small, buttery biscuits. Natalya had already explained eve
rything to her on the long voyage here, but Maryna didn’t understand completely. She was thrilled that Natalya insisted on bringing her along over her mother’s objections, but hoped she was smart enough to help.

  “Teodora has made a surprising move.” Natalya told Arryk about Fernanda’s terrifying attack in the forest. “Please tell me you’ve heard from Aksel recently,” she said when she’d finished.

  The king still looked stunned at hearing how close his sister and her family had come to a horrible end, but nodded and said, “I received a letter a few weeks ago. He seems well enough, though unhappy. Teodora released him from the Arnfels some time ago, but keeps him close by in her palace and seems to enjoy tormenting him. She even forced him to convert to the old faith by threatening a friend of his. She also wants to marry him to her eldest daughter, though that hasn’t happened yet.”

  “Poor Uncle Aksel,” Maryna burst out, though she’d never met him. Her mother always told her he was the nicest of the three Roussay siblings, and Maryna pictured him as tall and handsome like Uncle Arryk, though more scholarly. She liked daydreaming about helping him with his scientific work someday.

  “Indeed.” Natalya smiled at Maryna. “That’s the piece I was missing. Now I know Aksel is alive and in danger only of becoming an Inferrara in-law, I think I understand what Teodora is up to.”

  “What?” Maryna and Arryk chorused.

  “She’s making a play for your throne.” Natalya looked pleased with herself. “You’ve been having trouble with the nobility here, have you not?”

  “Yes.” Arryk sighed and looked sad. “I’ve had the most wonderful ideas for reform and they resist me at every turn. They don’t seem to understand I want to do what’s best for all the people of Norovaea.”

  “No, they wouldn’t understand that,” Natalya said, nibbling on a biscuit. “They care only about losing their power and privileges. But that’s a discussion for another day. The immediate problem is this: I believe Teodora has sent agents here to foment rebellion and I wish to flush them out.”

  “She has? Who are they? Where are they?” Arryk looked around as if he expected Olvisyan spies to step out from behind the draperies.

  “I’m not sure, though I can guess at the who. It seems Teodora wants to overthrow you, and replace you with Aksel, whom she thinks she can manipulate. That’s why she tried to kill Gwynneth and the children. Just Gwynneth wouldn’t be enough, because Maryna would succeed her.”

  Maryna drew in her breath. She’d never thought about the fact that she was in line for the Norovaean throne, and she didn’t want it. All she cared about was ruling Terragand someday.

  “With you dead or deposed, and Gwynneth and her children dead, Aksel would be next in line. If he married Elektra, she’d be queen and likely to do her mother’s bidding.”

  Arryk’s fist came down on the table with such force that Maryna nearly spilled her chocolate. “We had a treaty. I sent her my brother in good faith and shiploads of money I can’t afford. I even sent the first installment early, though that wasn’t part of the agreement. That woman has no honor at all.”

  “No, she does not.” Natalya seemed unruffled at Arryk’s outburst. “But we have already thwarted her by preventing the murder of Gwynneth and the children. And it sounds like I’ve arrived in time to help you thwart her here.”

  “Good.” Arryk looked more than ready to put everything into Natalya’s competent hands. “But might I ask why you’ve brought my niece into such a dangerous situation?”

  “It’s simple.” Natalya smiled at Maryna, deep dimples appearing in her cheeks. “Maryna will be the decoy that exposes Teodora’s agents.”

  The Story continues with Book Four: Winter of the Wolf

  For maps and additional information, please go to christinaochs.com

  Cast of Characters

  Kendryk II Bernotas, Prince of Terragand

  Gwynneth Roussay, Princess of Norovaea and Terragand, Kendryk’s wife.

  Their children: Maryna, Devyn, Andres, Stella, Renata

  Linette and Avaron,ladies-in-waiting to Gwynneth

  Edric Maximus, religious leader in Terragand, formerly known as Father Edric Landrus

  Merton, Captain of the guard at Birkenfels

  Catrin, Gwynneth’s maid

  Evard Bernotas, Duke of Terragand-Emberg, Kendryk’s uncle

  His son, Balduin, a prisoner inside Birkenfels

  Ruso Faris, a general leading the remnants of Kendryk’s army.

  Aidan Orland, Duke of Kaltental-Terragand

  Arian Orland, son of Aidan, mercenary general supporting Kendryk and Gwynneth

  Anton Kronek, Arian Orland’s page

  Baron Persyn, garrison commander at Birkenfels

  Cid, Arian Orland’s battle charger

  Skandar, Anton’s horse

  * * *

  Helvundala

  Rheda Bernotas-Falk, Dowager Princess of Helvundala, Kendryk’s aunt.

  Stepan Falk, Prince of Helvundala

  Toland Falk, his son and heir

  Geffrey Manier, colonel of the Helvundala army

  Podoska

  Edyta Martinek, Princess of Podoska

  Karolyna Martinek, her daughter, heir and general of Podoska’s army

  Trystan Martinek, Edyta’s youngest child, soldier of fortune serving Kendryk and Lennart

  Lenora Martinek, one of Trystan’s sisters

  Alric Sarborg, an army doctor

  * * *

  Ummarvik

  Ossian Dahlby, Prince of Ummarvik

  Arvus Dahlby, Duke of Ummarvik

  The Kronland Rulers

  Eldrid Benda, Prince of Lantura

  Floreta Bensen, Princess of Brandana

  Ossian Dahlby, Prince of Ummarvik

  Dristan Fabrey, Prince of Aquianus

  Stepan Falk, Prince of Helvundala

  Viviane Kasbirk, Princess of Isenwald

  Keylinda Marthaler, Princess of Fromenberg

  Edyta Martinek, Princess of Podoska

  Herryk Peloso, Prince of Tirilis

  Galena Sebesta, Princess of Oltena and Kendryk’s aunt

  Alarys Zelenka, Princess of Arcius

  * * *

  Olvisya

  Braeden Terris, ex-mercenary commander with the Sanova Hussars, now an outlaw

  Prince Novitny, general of the Sanova Hussars

  Reno Torresia, a captain in the Sanova Hussars, his wife Senta and their daughters Adela, Cara and Trisa

  Franca Dura, a lieutenant of the Sanova Hussars

  Kazmir, Braeden Terris’s horse

  Karil Andarosz, a former prisoner of Teodora’s, now Braeden’s traveling companion

  Teodora Inferrara, Empress of Olvisya, Queen of Moralta and Marjatya

  Her children: Elektra, Zofya and Rudofo

  Mother Luca, Elektra’s personal priestess

  Livilla Maxima, religious leader in Olvisya

  Daciana Tomescu, guerilla commander and friend of Teodora

  Ahbert Solteszy , Head of the Imperial Council and Teodora’s closest political adviser

  Meryl Biaram, an adviser to Teodora

  Elyse Rastell, lady-in-waiting to Teodora

  Sibyla, Teodora’s personal doctor

  Mother Hela, an instructor at Livilla’s school

  Mother Dava, an army priestess

  Niklas van Ensden, Teodora’s primary military commander

  Brynhild Mattila, a general working for Teodora

  Beatryz Inferrara, Queen of Maladena, cousin to Teodora

  Alona Brynner, an infantry colonel under Ensden

  Quintin Linser, an infantry major

  Count Michalek, commander of an infantry regiment

  Tavio Sora, a Maladene colonel serving under Ensden

  Stasny, an infantryman

  Susanna Stengel, a sutler in Mattila’s army

  * * *

  Galladium

  Gauvain Brevard, King of Galladium and childhood friend of Kendryk

  N
atalya Maxima, religious leader in Galladium

  Joslyn, their daughter

  Garin Dorais, captain of Kendryk’s guard

  Peryn LaFontant, Gauvain’s messenger

  * * *

  Estenor

  Lennart Ostberg, King of Estenor

  Raysa Sikora-Ostberg, Queen of Estenor

  Ludvik Meldahl, his chief adviser

  Silvya Meldahl, his daughter and lady-in-waiting to Queen Raysa

  Kelsi Brun, captain of the Drekir

  Tora Isenberg, a general

  Dolf Kalstrom, a general

  Leyf Lofbrok, a general

  * * *

  Norovaea

  Arryk Roussay, King of Norovaea

  Aksel Roussay, Arryk’s and Gwynneth’s youngest brother, Teodora’s hostage

  * * *

  The Faith

  Teodora the Holy, ancient founder of The Faith

  Quadrenes, followers of the reforms of Edric Maximus

  League of Aeternos, a group of clerics specially trained to counter the Quadrenes

  Vica, the sister goddess

  Ercos, the son god

  Copyright © 2015 by Christina Ochs

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First Edition

  Cover design by Amygdaladesign.net

  * * *

  *******