Fall of the Titan (The Desolate Empire Book 5)

by Christina Ochs

  “It seems you’ve been deceived,” the priestess said, sounding as though she believed nothing of the sort. “The woman you accompanied was the heretic Maxima in disguise. Though it’s hard to believe you didn’t know that.”

  “I ... suspected,” Trystan stammered. He didn’t want to risk being snatched himself; he had to stay free so he could help Natalya. But he could do nothing with the armed guards blocking his way. He gulped. “It didn’t seem wise to question her.”

  “Of course.” The priestess’s tone was both soothing and false. “You seem a cowardly sort and she is a dangerous woman. No doubt she would have killed you if you’d confronted her.”

  Trystan nearly lunged at the priestess, but forced himself to stay calm, even as he realized he wasn’t hiding his anger well. He took a deep breath. “Then I thank you for rescuing me.” He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but at least he wasn’t being overtly insulting. “What will happen to this woman now?” He prayed—for the first time with complete sincerity—that the priestess would tell him the truth.

  The priestess shrugged, though she didn't hide the malevolent gleam in her eye. “She will be tried and found guilty of heresy. She is a powerful sorceress who has bewitched many, and I’m sure that truth will come to light. Then she will be burned in the temple square.”

  Trystan’s fists clenched inside the long sleeves of his robe. He could take down this smirking, fat priestess with his bare hands, but the guards still outnumbered him and would keep him from Natalya. “When is the trial?” He hoped he sounded curious rather than infuriated.

  The priestess frowned. “In a day or two. I’d do it immediately, but the new Maxima issued strict instructions should the heretic be caught. She insists on sending judges of her own to examine the accused.”

  “I see,” Trystan said, relieved he’d just received a little time. But it was little enough and he needed to find help, or at least a weapon. He eyed the halberds the guards held, but grabbing one of those wouldn’t be enough with the others nearby. He’d have to find one elsewhere.

  Trystan turned to go, but the priestess’s voice rang out behind him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “It seems best I leave,” he said, even as he headed for the door.

  “I think not. While it’s possible you did not realize who you traveled with, it seems more likely you were an accomplice to the heretic. I’d like to question you.”

  “No.” Trystan lunged for the door.

  A guard grabbed his arm, and Trystan whirled around, using his other arm to swing a fist into the guard’s face. The man was taller than Trystan, but thinner, and fell backwards with a cry. Trystan would have liked to grab his weapon, but he didn’t have time with the other guards nearly on him.

  He shoved his shoulder into the heavy door, swinging it open just enough for him to slip outside. He pushed it shut, buying him an extra second, even as he cursed the long robes hampering his stride.

  An unwary guard stood outside, and Trystan bowled him over, then grabbed the halberd he dropped. The other guards were outside now, and Trystan swung the halberd at them in a wide arc. They had come at him with their weapons ready, but Trystan stepped between them. One blundered past him down the stairs and the other ran into Trystan’s blade face-first. He went down in a spray of blood, and Trystan turned again.

  More guards were coming now. He had to get out of here, and fast. He scanned the temple square and spotted his mule, nibbling at grass growing between cobblestones near the stairs. Trystan gathered up his robes and leapt down the stairs, taking them three at a time, still holding the halberd.

  The mule startled at his sudden appearance and jumped away, but Trystan already held the reins. The guards were right on his heels, but backed up as he took another swipe with the blade. He took advantage of a moment’s confusion to leap into the saddle and ride across the square at a gallop.

  The town was small and he reached the gates in less than a minute. He knew they'd pursue him, but he also knew which way to go. He needed to get to Allaux and tell the king what was happening.

  Gwynneth

  Tearing Devyn away from Trisa’s side hadn’t been easy.

  “Please, Mother,” he whispered. “I can’t go just yet.”

  Gwynneth had pulled him into a corner of the room while Trisa slept. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but she’s out of danger now, and you must get to Terragand before it’s too late.”

  “She might still catch a fever,” Devyn murmured. “The doctor is always muttering about it.”

  “The doctor likes to worry.” Gwynneth squeezed his hand. “But you must admit he’s taking excellent care of her. There’s nothing more you can do.” With Trisa recovering, the sickroom had become rather boisterous. Stella could also spend time there every day, and Devyn hardly ever left, so there was always talking, laughing and even shouting, much to the doctor’s chagrin. The poor man would likely welcome peace.

  “She’ll be bored without me.” He said it as if boredom were worse than death. It probably was for him.

  “I’ll choose a few interesting books for her. Galena has an excellent library.”

  “Trisa doesn’t read books.” Devyn shook his head. “She’s a woman of action.”

  “I realize that.” Gwynneth nearly chuckled, but caught herself. “But not right now. She must rest for another month, then she can join us wherever we are. Why don’t you help me choose the books? Perhaps she’ll be interested in accounts of famous battles. Or military theory.”

  “Maybe.” Devyn looked skeptical, but Gwynneth knew she had him. “Though I’m sure she’d prefer it if I read to her.”

  “I’m sure she would. But you have a duty to your family and to your kingdom.” Gwynneth took a deep breath. “Think of what your father would have done. And how proud he’d be if he could see you now,” she added in a whisper, blinking back tears.

  “All right.” Devyn swallowed and looked away, blinking as well.

  Gwynneth hadn’t seen him cry since he was a little boy and he’d been heartbroken at leaving his pet cats behind at Birkenfels after the siege. “You’re strong,” she said, “and Trisa is strong too. She’ll want you to go, even though she’ll miss you.”

  Gwynneth had been right about Trisa.

  “You must go,” she told Devyn. She could sit up in bed for a few hours every day, though the doctor was always tutting over her stitches. Her brown hair stuck out in all directions, but her color had improved and her dark eyes were bright as usual. “You can’t get your kingdom back sitting around here with me.”

  “I like sitting around with you,” Devyn grumbled while Gwynneth moved into a corner.

  “I like having you here.” Trisa smiled. “And you took great care of me. If your sister turns up and you aren’t prince anymore, you can become a doctor.”

  “Very funny.” Devyn shook his head, though he was smiling. “I want to be a cavalry officer like you.”

  “Well, you’d be good at that too. But for now, you’re Prince of Terragand, except your father’s idiot cousin is trying to take your throne. Don’t let him do it. I promise to join you as soon as I can.”

  “I’ll see you soon then,” Devyn said. He left with a resolute look on his face, but refused to look Gwynneth in the eye for a while after.

  She let him be and sent him to Braeden to get his equipment together. Then she asked Colonel Destler to join her in the library.

  The doctor had also taken good care of him, and he looked healthy again, though he still carried his arm in a sling.

  “Have you thought about my proposal?” Gwynneth asked, hoping she’d given him enough time to decide.

  "Yes.” Destler nodded after taking a seat. “I’d like to take you to Duke Orland’s lands.” He frowned. “I received a letter from Prince Dristan, ordering me home at once, but I’ll pretend I never received it.”

  “How rebellious of you.” Gwynneth smiled. “Well, if he’s angry, you’ll always have a plac
e with me.”

  “Why thank you, Your Grace.” Destler looked touched. “My original mission was to see you safe to Terragand, and I haven’t accomplished that yet. So I am convinced that I’m doing my duty.”

  “You certainly are, and it’s much appreciated,” Gwynneth said warmly. “Do your troops agree?”

  “They do.” Destler looked proud. “They are all devoted to you and the prince. And the little duchess too. She’s made quite a few friends amongst the soldiers.”

  “She can’t wait to be one of you.” Gwynneth shook her head. She wasn’t keen on bringing Stella to Duke Orland, but knew she wouldn’t stay here if Devyn left. She didn’t want Princess Galena to have to deal with a runaway.

  Their party going north would number barely three hundred, but Gwynneth refused to take any more troops from Princess Galena. Rumors had come that Mattila was marching to Terragand, and it seemed likely she’d expect to go through Oltena. Galena needed every soldier she had to defend herself. And as long as Teodora lurked over the border in Isenwald, Gwynneth wouldn’t feel secure anyway.

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” Gwynneth said on the eve of their departure. She’d gone to see Princess Galena in her boudoir before going to bed. “You saved Count Terris’s life, and you’ve been more than hospitable to me and the children.”

  “It was no bother at all, my dear,” the princess said, as if housing several hundred troops at her palace for a month hadn’t troubled her in the least. “And besides, you’re all the family I have now.” She smiled at Gwynneth.

  “I appreciate it all the same. And now I worry, if Mattila comes this way.”

  “You needn’t. We made a plan, didn’t we? And it’s a good one.”

  “I’ve heard Mattila can be awful to deal with.” Gwynneth had to admit she wouldn’t mind facing her down at least once, as long as it wasn’t on the battlefield.

  “I can handle her.” The princess offered a smooth cheek for Gwynneth to kiss. “Now off to bed with you. You get our young prince to Terragand and I’ll deal with Brynhild Mattila.”

  Elektra

  Elektra was speechless with pleasure when her mother told her she’d leave her in charge of Isenwald.

  “This time Princess Viviane is the figurehead,” Teodora said as they sat in the study right before her departure. “And you’re the one in charge of everything. I hope you’re up to it.”

  “I am.” Elektra couldn’t wait for Teodora to leave. She'd be able to manage Viviane. “I’ve learned a great deal in the past month.” She’d spent most of her time at her mother’s side, determined to pay close attention, especially to the way Teodora dealt with those who opposed her. Until the Moraltan mercenaries reappeared, Elektra realized her mother had little backup, but she always acted as though an army of ten thousand stood behind her, and everyone else acted as though she did.

  “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.” Teodora looked straight at Elektra.

  “I expect you’ll have several people spying on me. I don’t care. They won’t find anything.”

  “Good.” Teodora ordered a pile of papers on the desk. “I also insist you pray at the temple in Kronfels at least twice a week.”

  “I already pray at the chapel several hours a day, every day. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Not really. You need a priest to guide you at least sometimes. In this, you’re still behaving like a Quadrene and I won’t allow that.”

  It’s because I am a Quadrene. Elektra smiled and nodded. “If you insist, though don’t you find that Maximus a slimy fellow?”

  Something like a shadow passed over her mother’s face and disappeared. Interesting.

  “He’s not attractive and charismatic like your heretic Edric, but he’s devout, learned and a favorite of Livilla’s. If you’ll trust him, you’ll find him helpful to you.”

  “Hmm.” Elektra hoped to leave it at that. She had no intention of spending more time with the Maximus than was necessary to allay her mother’s suspicions. “I’ll go to the temple every now and then just to please you.””

  “That would.” Teodora smiled. “See? Isn’t it nice that we have a proper mother-daughter relationship?”

  “Lovely.” Elektra forced herself to smile back. Didn't her mother notice that she hated her more than ever? Or perhaps she did and didn’t care.

  “I’ll leave you now, since I wish to intercept Mattila before she reaches Terragand. Expect my letters and write if you have any problems. Oh, and if Princess Viviane gives you any trouble, kill her.”

  Elektra gasped. “Surely you don’t mean that.”

  “Oh, I do. I’d love to have an excuse to get rid of her. She’s popular among the aristocracy, which is probably why Gwynneth never did away with her. But if she crosses you in any way, go to the Maximus. He’ll help you do it discreetly.”

  Elektra stared, amazed that her mother would discuss cold-blooded murder so casually. It seemed brazen, even for her. “I-I hope it won’t come to that.”

  Teodora shrugged, then stood. “Come here my dear, and give me a kiss. If all goes well I’ll see you in a month or so. And if you succeed here, well, think about how you’d like being a Kronland ruler soon. Once I've defeated Lennart, I’ll be revisiting several charters. I don’t see why an archduchess can’t rule here.”

  Elektra stared, then hurried to kiss her mother’s cheek. She didn't know what to say to that. It wasn’t an empire, but Isenwald was a significant, wealthy kingdom and would do nicely until Teodora died.

  “Just think about it,” Teodora trilled, and waved before hurrying down the corridor.

  Once she’d disappeared, Elektra sent for a servant. “Move all of the paperwork and writing things to the library,” she said. No way would the bloody study continue to be her workroom. Besides, it wasn’t secure.When she’d returned to her mother after the rebellion, Elektra remembered Major Silberg, her Estenorian protector, telling her of several listening posts in the palace.

  For a time, Elektra puzzled over how to discover them. When she was alone, she knocked on all of her walls and even checked the back of her wardrobe, but didn't discover a secret passage anywhere. There had to be a map. Princess Viviane likely had it, at least at one point.

  Somehow, Silberg had gotten his hands on it. Perhaps he'd made a copy, or had stolen the original. Elektra couldn’t imagine where he would have put it. After Teodora killed him, his room near the guardhouse had been cleared out. Where were his things?

  Elektra had gotten on friendly terms with the new captain and explained to him she’d entrusted Silberg with a valuable piece of jewelry and that it was still likely among his things. Intimidated by Elektra’s rank, the captain had hurried to show her the drawer holding Silberg’s few possessions.

  Elektra struggled against unexpected tears as she recognized Silberg’s cloak and the little silver powder horn he always wore. She grabbed the powder horn and put it in her pocket. Her friends had always been few enough she didn't want to forget any of them.

  In the inner pocket of a worn doublet, she found what she was looking for. A small piece of paper, folded many times over. Elektra opened it enough to glimpse a floor plan of the palace, then shoved it in her pocket as well.

  She smiled at the captain as she left. “I was mistaken and it wasn’t there. But thank you for letting me look.”

  Elektra learned the chapel was one of the few places where no one was able to watch and listen. So she spent much time there, studying and memorizing the map. She wasn't sure where to hide it, and finally tucked it behind Vica’s icon. No one would move that anytime soon.

  So she knew the study was one place that was easily observed. She wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if Princess Viviane had heard every word her mother spoke there. It was possible to watch the library, but the room was much bigger and Elektra took care to conduct her business well away from the listening post. Now she needed to figure out how to take further advantage of this information.

  Lennart<
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  Lennart made good time to Oltena, and it was clear a large army had passed ahead of him. Within a day or two, he expected to fall upon Mattila’s rear. He might not beat her, but he would draw her away from Delsenhof Palace. With any luck, Princess Galena might rally a small force to attack from the other side and help him out. It wasn’t a great plan, but the only one Lennart could think of.

  He knew Lofbrok would do his best to get the infantry moving soon, so Lennart just had to distract Mattila long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Just in case, he sent a colonel at the head of some scouts into Podoska.

  “Go straight to Princess Edyta,” Lennart ordered. “Tell her to send all the troops she can spare to Oltena.”

  With any luck, she’d have at least a few thousand militia to send his way. It was a pity Trystan wouldn’t be leading them. Lennart expected to see him again soon, having received a letter from Tirovor a few weeks past. He, Anton and Karil had rescued both Natalya Maxima and Princess Maryna, but it would take them a while to reach Lennart. He wished he could tell Gwynneth her daughter was safe and in good hands, but didn’t know when he’d meet her again.

  His main comfort on that score was that Braeden was with her. They’d hear of Mattila headed their way and Braeden would get her and the children to safety somehow.

  But the emissary to Podoska returned less than two days after leaving Lennart. “Big trouble in that direction,” he told Lennart, looking weary and anxious. “Mattila’s split her force. A large cavalry troop tore through the Podoska marches just a few days ago, plundering as they went. It’s said they’re headed straight for Heidenhof, likely to shore up the pretender.”

  Lennart hadn’t started it, but his officers all referred to Prince Balduin as the pretender, which suited him fine. Even if it was his fault he was there in the first place.

  Lennart came to a halt, then gave the order for everyone to stop. He needed to think before proceeding. Something told him the cavalry going through Podoska was Franca Dura’s, and he had unfinished business with her. He told himself it wasn’t personal; he needed to keep her away from Heidenhof. Mattila would take longer to get there, so maybe it was best to chase Dura down first.