“I trust in your discretion.” Natalya looked as calm as always, but her fingers pulled apart a crust of bread.
“It’ll be all right,” Trystan said, putting his hand on hers lightly to halt the nervous movements. “They’ll be so busy laughing at my Galladian, there’ll be no time for sinister plots.”
Natalya frowned. “Just to be safe, don’t tell them it’s me. Use Mother Marya’s name.”
Trystan patted her hand once more, then reluctantly pulled his away. It was time to go.
He found himself nervous as he approached the little temple, though it looked no different than any of the others he’d seen in these parts. Perhaps it was its proximity to Allaux that gave him pause. If Natalya’s enemies had succeeded there, temples nearby might have received the news. Trystan decided to play dumb.
“My companion and I have come from Kronland on foot,” he said, deciding a pilgrim on a mule would attract unwanted attention. “We’re going to Allaux to receive Natalya Maxima’s blessing.”
The short, plump priestess frowned at Trystan even as she beckoned him inside. She led him along the back of the ornate nave and into a little side room, which appeared to be her office. Once he’d shut the door behind him and taken a seat across from her, she said, “Natalya Maxima is dead, I’m afraid.”
“Holy Mother save us!” Trystan exclaimed, pleased with himself for an almost spontaneous religious utterance. “I haven’t heard. What happened?”
“Taken by Maladene pirates,” the priestess said, “and likely murdered. No one has heard from her in months, so the king appointed a new Maxima. Charlise De La Tour has taken the name of Octavia Maxima.”
But the king knows Natalya is alive. Trystan wanted to protest, but sensed it wouldn’t be wise until he’d determined where this priestess’s allegiance lay. “What a terrible shock,” he said. “I trust Octavia is just as devout? I suppose we must seek her blessing instead.”
The priestess looked at him a bit too long. “Octavia is not a heretic, which is a vast improvement over the last one. I hope you’re not one of those Quadrenes. We put up with that foolishness far too long, but Octavia is setting things right.” She smiled for the first time. “You might have noticed our temple looks as it should, restored to its former glory.”
“I did notice that,” Trystan said, hoping his undeniable agitation might be mistaken for struggling with the language. When he got anxious, his Kronland accent became thicker. He wanted to deny that he was Quadrene, but coming from Kronland, that might be difficult to do.
The priestess fixed stern dark eyes on him. “I’m sure you’re disappointed, likely being a heretic yourself. But you must see this as a sign from the gods, putting you back on the right path.”
“I don’t know what to think,” Trystan muttered, which was mostly true. Under the priestess’s unyielding gaze, he was unable to come up with any plan at all.
“It’s well-known that heresy causes confusion in the mind.” It seemed the priestess wasn’t finished with him yet. “I suggest you make for Allaux in all haste and confess your weakness to the new Maxima. She is offering absolution to those who’ve strayed, but I’m sure it will only be for a short time.”
“I believe you’re right.” Trystan rose from his chair in what he hoped wasn’t unseemly haste. “I should go right now. Do you think we can make Allaux by nightfall tomorrow?”
“I don’t see why not.” The priestess offered a somewhat kindly smile. “Tell the Maxima I sent you.”
“Certainly.” Trystan couldn’t wait to get out of there. But when he returned to the tavern, Natalya was gone. Both mules still stood in the little stable and Trystan tried not to panic. Perhaps she’d wandered off to a nearby shop, though it seemed irresponsible.
The tavernkeeper was of some help. “She just left,” he said in response to Trystan’s inquiry. “A few folk came in here, she greeted them like friends and walked out with them.”
“Oh gods,” Trystan said, rushing back out to the street. But no matter which way he looked, he couldn’t find any sign of Natalya.
Teodora
Teodora still hadn’t decided what to do next. Reason said she should return to Atlona and let Mattila handle Lennart. But she’d received no word from the general in some time. She hated to make a move without having more information. If Mattila needed more motivation, Teodora would be happy to join her and offer it in person. She chuckled to herself. Mattila would love that. And the impression she’d make with her newfound youthfulness!
Mattila was a good twenty years older than Teodora, but didn't look it, especially with Teodora’s premature aging. Now there was no question who the old lady was.
Teodora also wasn't sure what to do about Elektra. She wouldn’t deny she was pleased at how spirited her daughter had become. At her angriest, she reminded Teodora of herself at the same age. Perhaps there was hope for her yet. But if she was at all like Teodora, she couldn’t be trusted. Teodora wanted nothing more than to unload Elektra onto Livilla for the next few years since her education had been cut short.
She was still musing when the messenger came, muddy and exhausted. “Urgent message from General Mattila,” she said, handing Teodora the battered pouch. “No reply needed.” And she disappeared before Teodora could dismiss her.
Teodora hurried to open the pouch and pulled out the letter. Judging by the date, it had taken well over two weeks to reach her. She stood up as she read, then paced the floor, unsure of what to make of it. First, she was angry. Mattila had been on the verge of taking Richenbruck, and failed. Well, not failed exactly. But she’d walked away on the eve of victory. She’d had a chance to engage Lennart while she outnumbered him and refused.
Rage built up in Teodora’s head. “Treason,” she muttered to herself. “I’ll have her brought up on charges.” But then she read further.
Mattila laid out her reasons for going when she did. Lennart’s army had just arrived when I received the news, she wrote. I’d planned to engage him, and the city was a tempting prize. But Terragand is more tempting, and I’m sure you’ll agree it’s more important to you. Once it falls, Tirilis will be easy to bring back into line. I found a way to delay and confuse Lennart, and he’ll have a difficult time getting out of Tirilis with his army intact. I’ll be in Oltena soon, and don’t expect more than token resistance from Princess Galena.
I’ve already sent Franca Dura and her cuirassiers ahead, across the Podoska marches and into Terragand where they will assist Prince Balduin in his siege of Heidenhof. Dura is familiar with the area and can encourage Lennart’s general there to spend much of his strength by the time I arrive.
I expect Lennart to appear, but he’ll be too late. I will capture Heidenhof, Edric Landrus, and hold Queen Raysa and Lennart’s young heir hostage, forcing Lennart to return to Estenor. You may as well go back to Atlona until you hear further from me.
“Hah!” Teodora said, returning to her chair. If Mattila expected Teodora to sit this one out, she was mistaken. No, she’d call back her Moraltan mercenaries and take them to Terragand. So far they’d failed to find Gwynneth, Braeden or anyone else.
It didn’t matter. With Terragand under Teodora’s direct control, Gwynneth would have nowhere to go, except into foreign exile, again. Teodora chuckled. Now she needed to figure out what to do with Princess Viviane.
Was Elektra ready? It was hard to say. Teodora had been watching her for the past weeks and aside from a few barbs aimed at her mother, the girl had behaved perfectly. Perhaps she was coming around to the idea that if she wanted to be empress, she was best off sticking with her mother and the true faith.
Teodora still wanted someone to keep an eye on her. She rushed into the corridor, calling for her carriage. “Take me to the Maximus’s palace,” she ordered.
Claudius Maximus hurried to greet her when she appeared. “Is all well, Your Highness?” he asked, his face weaselly as ever.
“I’ve never felt better.” Teodora beamed at him while shed
ding her cloak into a servant’s arms. “But I’m afraid duty calls and I must leave Isenwald soon.” She dropped into the proffered chair. “I plan to leave my daughter in charge here.”
The Maximus raised his eyebrows.
““She’s come a long way since I first arrived,” Teodora said. “We understand each other now.”
“I hope that’s true,” the Maximus said. “Though I must question her piety. I haven’t seen her at the temple since her conversion ceremony.”
“Oh, she prays at the palace, in Princess Viviane’s chapel. For hours and hours every day. I’ll tell her to come see you soon. I want you to spend more time with her. Leaving her here will be a test of her loyalty and I want you to report to me how she does.”
“I’d be happy to. What about Princess Viviane?”
“She’s ruler of Isenwald in name only. Elektra will do the real work. She’s already had practice so I expect her to do well enough. But I worry if the enemy comes sniffing around. King Lennart made her some ridiculous promises and I fear at least part of her still hopes he’ll fulfill them.”
“The folly of youth,” the Maximus murmured.
“Youth and unbelievable naivete,” Teodora agreed. “As long as she has no hope of changing sides again, I expect her to do well. She and Princess Viviane hate each other, which ought to be ideal. I needn’t worry about them allying against me.”
“I would never let that happen.” The Maximus smiled. “I’m honored in your trust in me, Your Highness. I’m also pleased you are looking so well. Are you feeling good too?”
“Wonderful.” Teodora smiled back. “Like I did when I was twenty, but a great deal wiser.” She frowned and leaned forward, dropping her voice. “I have only one concern. I have the most awful nightmares sometimes, like I’ve never had before. And some days they linger.” She shivered, remembering the last one.
The Maximus looked serious. “It’s an unfortunate side effect, because the old priestess died during the procedure. I’m very sorry. Perhaps it will get better.”
“Perhaps.” Teodora could tell from his expression he didn’t believe it would.
Maryna
It was fun to travel by riverboat under the spring sunshine, at least as long as Maryna pretended it was all for pleasure. The river smoothly wound its way through a soft and fertile landscape. In the distance, peasants planted their crops and cows lowed in the meadows. It was hard to believe war had devastated these lands just a few years before.
In Fromenberg, Anton had sold the mules and bought passage on boats for his whole force. Since they’d be traveling downstream, taking boats was by far the fastest way to get north. Maryna hoped it was safe, since Teodora had come to Isenwald and reinstated the criminal Princess Viviane.
Maryna spent her days on deck, watching the low hills of Fromenberg turn steep and wooded as they went north. Anton and Karil joined her often. After his close call, nearly married off to Princess Keylinda’s daughter, Karil was in a good mood. He’d shaved off his beard to hide from his would-be bride and looked like a completely different person. Maryna smiled every time she caught sight of him.
Anton planned to sail down the river to Lerania and sneak into Terragand from there. “No one will even realize we’ve passed,” he assured Maryna.
“But everyone will soon know I’m alive,” she protested. Several hundred copies of the letter she’d written had gone out from Saarbrunnen Palace and would be all over Kronland by now.
“They will.” Anton grinned at her as they stood at the boat’s rail, watching the banks of the Lera flatten into a wide valley. “But they won’t be looking for you in Isenwald. Besides, we won’t be there more than a few days. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Maryna smiled back. Greta hovered nearby, so she could do nothing more. In fact, since she and Anton had had their little talk, they’d never been alone together again. The morning after Princess Keylinda’s big dinner, Greta had reappeared and never let Maryna out of her sight. Annoying, but Maryna supposed it was her job.
So she contented herself with spending as much time with Anton as she could, enjoying his company and all of the things they said to each other using only their eyes. She was a bit frightened at entering the kingdom where her father had been killed, but mostly she was happy, feeling freer than she had in a long time.
Anton seemed to know the area well and always pointed out interesting landmarks, or told her funny stories about when he’d served with Count Orland. Maryna was even more curious about the time he’d spent fighting on Teodora’s side, though something kept her from asking about it. It hadn’t been his fault of course, but must have been hard. Perhaps that was why he never talked about it.
They stopped at a larger town one morning to resupply and Anton went ashore to get the news. When he returned two hours later he was beaming. “They're telling the craziest story here,” he told Maryna, motioning her to join him at their usual spot by the rail. “Come over here Karil,” he said. “You’ll want to hear this too.”
“Has Lennart defeated Teodora?” Maryna hardly cared about anything else.
“I don’t think so.” Anton shook his head, though he kept smiling. “But Teodora is gone.”
“Gone from where?”
“From Isenwald. She took all the troops she came with and left.”
“Where did she go?” Maryna looked around, hoping Teodora hadn’t come this way.
“I got different stories, depending on who I talked to,” Anton said. “Some say she’s headed back to Atlona overland. Others claim she’s gone to Oltena to link up with Brynhild Mattila and take on Lennart. Still others say she’s gone to Terragand, but it makes no sense she’d do that without a decent sized army.”
“I suppose that’s good,” Karil said. He looked no more convinced than Maryna.
“Might be,” Anton said, “but that’s not the best part. What’s crazy is that she’s left her daughter Elektra in charge here.”
“That’s not good either,” Karil said with a scowl.
“Oh come on.” Anton sounded a little impatient. “She’s not like that anymore. Elektra is Lennart’s ally now, which means she’ll be happy to help us.”
“Are you daft?” Karil looked angrier than Maryna had ever seen him. “She’s not Lennart’s ally anymore if Teodora left her in charge here. Clearly, she betrayed Lennart like she has everyone else.” His face brightened. “Though maybe we should stop by Kronfels and kill her.”
Maryna was confused. Last she’d heard Elektra was on Lennart’s side and even became a Quadrene. How had she ended up back with Teodora? Maryna tried to remember any mention of Elektra in all the letters she’d read. “We’re not killing anyone,” she said sharply, even though she suspected Karil wasn’t serious. “But he’s right.” She turned back toward Anton. “Why would Teodora leave her in charge if she’s on our side?”
“I'm not sure,” Anton said, “but I intend to find out. What if she’s spying on Teodora and is just pretending to be on her side? This is the perfect chance to get information from her.”
“But what if you’re wrong?” Maryna tried to push down any panic she felt at the thought of something happening to Anton. “What if she’s with Teodora and captures you when you talk to her?”
“I doubt she will, since I’m sure she likes me.”
“Don’t be an ass,” Karil said. “You did not look like you were enjoying yourself when we had dinner with her.”
“I wasn’t.” Anton leaned his back against the rail and puffed his chest out. “It was awkward because she liked me and didn’t know how to act. She might have thought I was flirting with her and was embarrassed.”
“That’s not how I remember it at all,” Karil said scornfully.
“Do you like her?” Maryna hoped her voice didn't wobble. She didn’t think she was jealous, but what if Anton liked another girl? Elektra was older, surely more experienced and interesting than Maryna. And an empress’s daug
hter would be an even bigger prize than a princess.
“Of course I don’t like her. She’s Teodora’s daughter. I don’t care whose ally she is, I could never be friends with her.” Anton’s eyes twinkled at Maryna.
She looked away, hoping he hadn’t read her thoughts.
“Well, I say we keep right on sailing,” Karil said. “Stopping to get involved with Elektra is a terrible idea.”
“I agree,” Maryna put in, hoping she didn’t sound jealous.
“All right,” Anton said easily, turning back to look out at the river. “I just hope we’re not missing a good opportunity here.”
Trystan
Trystan wasted several valuable minutes running up and down the street, peering into shops and alleyways, hoping to spot Natalya. He hurried back to the tavern and asked, “Was the other party mounted?”
The tavernkeeper shook his head. “Didn’t look like it. I doubt they had horses, shabby-looking clerical types that they were.”
Of course, that would be why Natalya had gone with them. And now Trystan had an idea where they were headed, though he wondered that they hadn’t crossed paths. He grabbed his mule and rode back to the temple in the style of a cavalry charge, heedless of his flapping robes and the stares of people on the street.
He reached it in a few moments, but still too late. A cluster of clergy stood on the temple steps, while guards hustled off a small figure in plain robes. Trystan would recognize her anywhere. “Let that woman go!” he shouted, riding his mule up the temple stairs and scattering those gathered there.
He jumped to the ground and ran after the guards. No one stopped him until he reached the inside of the temple. The priestess stepped forward, flanked by four guards.
Trystan fumbled for a sword, cursing himself once more for allowing Natalya to insist against weapons of any kind.
Fall of the Titan (The Desolate Empire Book 5) Page 7
