“If you like.” The man’s tone and expression were almost insolent. Elektra wished she knew what he was thinking.
“I’ll hold you to that,” the duke said, then turned to the duchess. “You might as well tell the princess we’ll go ahead. She’ll have her kingdom back to herself in two days.”
Elektra drew in her breath, hoping the sudden rustle of the duchess’s skirts concealed any sound. Princess Viviane getting her kingdom to herself only meant one thing; that she planned to get rid of Elektra, and by using force, from the sound of it.
Elektra pushed down her panic, forcing herself to listen to the rest of the conversation. She needed to learn as much as possible and stop this army before it got here. With enough information, she might bluff its commander into turning back, or maybe even supporting her instead.
She heard a General Hohenwart mentioned, leading eight thousand troops. That sounded overwhelming, but Elektra forced herself to memorize all of it even though she felt so frantic the information meant nothing to her. She could not let this force come ashore. But how to stop it?
Once the duke’s guest departed, Elektra made her way back to her own room. A fire burned, and she hoped her absence hadn’t been noted by the servants. After throwing her cloak across a bench, she sank into her favorite chair in front of the fire. There was no one here she might count on, no one who would help her. If she managed to stop this army, she’d have to do it alone.
Or she could just run. Elektra leaned back in the chair and sighed. That would be smarter. If she left at once, she might still catch up to her mother in Terragand. If she stayed, she’d likely be dead within days.
But Elektra knew her mother. That wouldn’t be an excuse. She’d blame Elektra for losing Isenwald, and rightfully so. But how could she stop the impending coup?
Elektra sat bolt upright. Since her mother’s departure, she’d visited the temple in Kronfels only once, but Claudius Maximus had been ingratiating, implying Elektra should call upon him at any time. Her mother trusted him, and so did Livilla. She doubted he'd want Princess Viviane back in charge either. She didn’t like him, but now was not the time to be choosy in her allies.
Elektra waited for the fire to die down, thrumming with impatience. When her maid came in, she sent her away. “I have too much work, so I’ll put myself to bed,” she said, indicating a pile of books on a nearby table. “Build up the fire and leave me. I’ll sleep late tomorrow.” Hopefully that would keep the maid out for at least a few hours after daybreak.
Once all was quiet, Elektra put on her riding clothes and pulled her cloak back on. She let herself back into the secret passageway and followed it to an exterior door, opening behind a hedge in the garden. From there it was an easy walk to the stables. Only a stableboy stirred when Elektra entered.
“I’m going for a ride,” she said, “but I want to be alone.” She tucked a coin into his grubby hand. “Saddle my horse.”
Ten minutes later, she was riding for Kronfels as fast as her horse could carry her.
Trystan
Though no one pursued him that he could see, Trystan knew they would before long. He also was certain the road to Allaux would be watched, and there might well be more de la Tours around. So at the first opportunity, he turned his mule onto a path leading toward a small hill.
He galloped until he’d crested the hill and was out of sight, then slowed down to get his bearings. A few farms stood in the distance, so Trystan headed for the second one.
A man and two women worked in a field, and Trystan waved as he brought his mule to a halt.
“Good day, Father,” the older of the two women said, smiling up at him.
He’d nearly forgotten about the priest disguise, and hoped the halberd hanging in a loop on his saddle wasn’t too conspicuous.
“Good day,” he said, dismounting. “I was hoping you might tell me the way to Allaux.”
Now that his foreign accent had become clear, the woman’s eyebrows raised and her lined face crinkled with amusement. “Lost, are you? And a long way from home, by the sound of it.”
“I’m not lost exactly,” Trystan said, “though it’s true I’m far from home. I was pursued by bandits on the main road and hoped to find another way to Allaux. Do you know of one?”
The woman’s face darkened. “Those likely weren’t bandits you saw,” she said. “There’s other trouble about though, and it’s wise to get off the main road.”
Trystan realized he’d been holding his breath, and let it out softly. “Do you know what’s going on?” It wouldn’t hurt to find out what the common people knew.
“Nothing good.” The woman shook her head. “Come, sit down with us for a moment. We’re ready for a break.”
Trystan hesitated, but decided it would be smarter not to appear to be in too big a hurry. “All right,” he said, “though I don’t want my mule trampling your crops.”
“No problem,” the man said, and led the mule to a nearby tree, tying him up where he could eat the tender grass at the roadside.
The younger woman rummaged in a bag and brought out bread, cheese and a clay flask of cold water, which they all passed around.
As he relaxed a little, Trystan realized he was hungry, so he took the food with great appreciation.
“Now,” the older woman said, settling herself into the long grass at the side of the field. “This is what I’ve heard. There’s a new Maxima in Allaux and she’s turning everything upside down.” The woman frowned. “The old Maxima did the same a few years ago, but to my mind, the changes were good. Now the new one says the old one is dead, and is calling all of us heretic.”
“Natalya Maxima is not dead,” Trystan said, brushing crumbs from his robe. “I’m afraid I haven’t been quite honest with you, but I’m in fear for my life.” If these folk were devout, he’d get further with them as a priest than a foreign general. “I’ve been accompanying Natalya Maxima back to Allaux, but she was captured back in town. The new Maxima wants her dead and the priestess there is happy to oblige, from what I can tell.”
All three of the countryfolk exclaimed at the same time, and then the man said, “We have to help her. Mother Lena was never keen on Quadrenes, even though her congregation knows it’s the right way. I won’t go back to the Old Faith,” he added, sounding angry.
“I don’t want you to,” Trystan said, “but I can’t help the Maxima on my own. I have only one weapon I took from a temple guard, but there are too many of them. I’m sure they’ll be looking for me by now.”
“They won’t find you,” the older woman said with a smile. “But maybe best we get you off the road, just in case.” She stood with surprising agility, considering her age. “You two get back to work, I’ll take the father and his mule to the house. Anyone from the temple comes sniffing about, you haven’t seen him.”
“Of course not,” the younger woman said, sounding somewhat offended.
“Now come along,” the older woman said, going to get Trystan’s mule. Once they were headed down the road, to a house in the distance, she said, “My name is Louise Foret and I own this farm. Clary is my daughter and Henri her husband. You can trust them, and me.”
“I hope so,” Trystan said, unable to keep from looking over his shoulder. “I would go to the king and ask for his help, but I worry I can’t do it quickly enough.”
“You can’t,” Louise said, leading the mule into a little stable and situating him at a manger. Once she’d poured oats and the mule was happily munching, she took Trystan into the house. “You must help her now, or Mother Lena will get rid of her. She’s always hated Natalya and won’t take any chances with delays.”
“She said something about waiting for judges from Allaux.”
Louise shook her head. “Just to put you off, no doubt. No, I’m sure there’ll be a trial tomorrow.”
“What can we do?” Trystan’s heart was pounding so hard, he struggled to make his brain work. “There are too many guards.”
“No
t as many as you think.” Louise’s smile was kind. “It’s a small town and temple. But folk in town hold to the Quadrene way, and so do most of us out on the farms. The lot of us can stand up to the guards.”
“But what about the new Maxima?” Trystan had to ask. Much as he needed the help, he didn’t want these folk putting themselves at too much risk. “Won’t she punish you for interfering?”
Louise’s smile was broad. “If we save Natalya, there will be no new Maxima.”
Lennart
“I could use your help,” Lennart said, making sure not to sound like he was pleading. He somehow had to strike the right note between firm and flattering. Princess Edyta needed buttering up, but he wouldn't beg. “I swear I’ll make it worth your while.”
“How?” The princess glared at him. “There is no substitute for a strong military of my own.”
“You’re right,” Lennart said, hoping he sounded conciliatory and reasonable even as he wanted to wring her neck. “But no matter what you have, it won’t be enough if Mattila and Teodora look your way. Which they will, as soon as they’ve finished with Terragand.”
“I doubt they’re interested in poor little Podoska.” The princess waved her hand.
“You’d be surprised.” Lennart had been thinking about the deal Teodora must have made with Mattila. A woman so rich wouldn’t be interested in money. She’d want power, and power came with territory. “What if Teodora and Mattila try to carve up all of Kronland between them?”
“They can’t.” Princess Edyta sounded decisive, but Lennart caught a flash of uncertainty in her eyes.
“If they win, they can do anything they want,” Lennart said. “Hasn’t Mattila already sent hostile troops into your kingdom? Have you been able to stop them?”
To his surprise, the princess smiled. “I am stopping them,” she said. “That’s why I can’t spare any troops. I’ve hired a small but proven mercenary army and it’s dealing with Dura’s Cuirassiers right now.”
Lennart felt a pang of worry that someone would finish Franca Dura before he got to her. “Why didn’t you say so?” He managed a smile, ultimately relieved that at least someone stood between Dura and his family at Heidenhof.
“You didn’t ask. In the absence of my son, none of my children are capable of leading an army.”
“The Duchess Karolyna?” Lennart had to ask.
“Still can’t walk. She’ll never recover.”
Lennart almost gasped at the way the princess dismissed the suffering of her eldest child. He would never talk about Kataryna with such callousness. But then he wasn’t a horrible parent. He hoped.
“That’s a shame,” he said, meaning it. “So can you tell me more about this force taking on Dura? I’d love to lend my support if it’s needed.”
“It won’t be. Your way is clear. I imagine you’ll find only the remnants of Dura’s force as you head north.”
If all of this was true and someone else was already distracting Dura, then Lennart’s way was indeed clear. “I’ll resupply then,” he continued, “and we’ll be out of your hair soon.”
Because of a shortage of hay, Lennart had to wait a long four days before he was able to leave. Spring had come late and cold, and the grass that might feed their horses was still thin and short.
So he killed time riding large circles around Berolstein, hoping to glimpse Princess Edyta’s new force. When he’d asked again who led it, she answered only with a coy smile. “No one you’d know, I’m sure.” Well, he’d find out soon enough.
One afternoon, after heading about ten leagues west, he was preparing to return to the castle, when someone in his escort gave a shout. “Party on the road ahead.”
That was nothing unusual, with planting in full swing and farmers traveling between their own fields and those belonging to the estates they worked. But this might well be a military force.
Lennart looked ahead eagerly. Maybe Edyta’s mysterious army would show itself. Instead, he broke into a smile as he saw a familiar banner fluttering over the mounted party coming into view. He spurred his horse to a gallop and arrived in front of Gwynneth in a great shower of mud. “Your Grace, it’s so good to see you. I was worried you wouldn’t get out of Oltena before Mattila arrived.”
Gwynneth smiled at him, though not as broadly as she had in times past. Still lovely, she looked older and thinner now, with faint lines at the corners of her eyes. “It’s good to see you too. I scarcely believed our luck when I heard you were in the kingdom. We’re in sore need of reinforcement.”
“Me too.” Lennart grinned when he saw Braeden Terris riding beside two children, one dark and one fair. “I knew Commander Terris would take care of you.”
“Count Terris,” the fair-haired boy said, looking at Lennart with a faint scowl.
As recognition dawned, Lennart reckoned he deserved it. “Your Grace,” he said, realizing the boy had to be Prince Devyn. “I’m sorry about the muddle in your kingdom. I’ll get it sorted out, I swear.”
“Good,” the boy said, his tone still haughty, though now his blue eyes held a friendlier light. He resembled Gwynneth a great deal and as a result was terribly handsome. Judging by his haughty air, he well knew it, too.
“Be polite, Devyn,” Gwynneth said, her voice sharp as she turned to her son. “It’s not the king’s fault Teodora murdered your father and spread the word we were dead. I’m sure the king did what he thought was right at the time.” She offered Lennart a wry smile. “All the same, Balduin was the worst possible choice. I could have told you that.”
“No doubt you would have,” Lennart muttered. “Still, I have good news to soften you up. Have you had any word of Maryna?”
Gwynneth shook her head. “Not since Duke Trystan and Anton went after her, but we’ve had no messages from them.”
Lennart was happy to say, “She’s fine, both she and Natalya Maxima.”
“Thank the gods,” Gwynneth gasped, and looked down at her hands clasped on the pommel. When she looked up, her eyes were shining. “Where is she?”
“On her way to me,” Lennart said. “Anton wrote a few months ago. They were in Tirovor and had to wait for the spring thaw, but they’ll find me soon enough.” It was nice to deliver good news for once.
Elektra
The Maximus’s palace stood tall and forbidding, its pale marble front etched against a cloudy sky. The sight of it gave Elektra a moment’s pause as she rode up to it. She wished now for the old Maxima, who would have been kind and helped her without hesitation. But that Maxima was dead. Elektra didn’t know how, but that was one of the many unsavory things she’d learned during her various eavesdropping sessions. So now she was stuck with Claudius.
Elektra rode her horse straight up the front stairs, stopping only in front of a guard who came hurrying to meet her. Fortunately, he recognized her.
“Your Grace!” He grabbed her horse’s reins. “Is everything all right?”
“No.” Elektra swung down from the saddle. “I must speak with the Maximus at once.”
“We’ll send someone to fetch him.”
“Good.” Elektra waited as the other guard knocked on the massive, iron-banded door, then spoke through a small, barred window. The door swung open and Elektra stepped inside. The palace’s interior was so gloomy and sinister, she felt a thrill of panic, fearing she’d walked into a trap. But she told herself that was unlikely. She’d prayed hard all the way here, and everything inside her said she could trust the Maximus, at least in this.
The guards inside the door handed her off to a footman who had come at a run, buttoning up a long coat as he came.
“His Holiness will be here shortly,” he said, leading Elektra to a large, dark room. The footman had her sit, then went around, lighting lamps.
As the gloom abated, Elektra calmed down. It would be all right.
Claudius Maximus arrived only moments later, wrapped in a dressing gown of black silk trimmed with gold. He wore a cap with a long gold tassel and matchin
g gold slippers. The effect was so ornate and ridiculous, Elektra nearly laughed. But Claudius’s face was so concerned, that stopped her in her tracks. He took a seat across from her and sent the footman out.
Once the door had closed, he said, “Please tell me what’s wrong, Your Grace.”
Elektra took a deep breath, then told him what she’d heard from the Duke of Lemberg and the Floradian agent.
The Maximus’s dark face grew even darker. “I might have expected this kind of treachery,” he said. “Your mother rightly worried about Princess Viviane. Now tell me all of it again, remembering every detail. The more information, the better. It was clever of you to overhear it.” He offered Elektra an obsequious smirk.
“I was lucky.” Elektra hadn’t told him details of how she’d heard it, and she didn’t intend to. But she had been lucky, choosing to eavesdrop on the Lembergs, rather than on any others.
“I’m glad you came to me,” the Maximus said, his dark eyes sincere. “I realize we aren’t close and that your relationship with the Faith is currently difficult. But all that can be remedied later. What matters now is that we stop this treachery. It seems your mother was right to trust you.”
“Of course she was.” Elektra decided not to point out that becoming allies with Princess Viviane was hardly an option for her. “I just wish she’d left me better protected. What am I supposed to do against an army when I don’t have one?”
“We must make them yours,” the Maximus said. “You will get to them first and convince their leader to follow your orders.”
“How can I do that?” Elektra had never been the most persuasive and still didn’t have the confidence she needed.
“Easily. You are Isenwald’s real ruler and any troops fall under your command. You are merely ensuring your orders will be followed. I will give you a big armed escort while you wait for them to arrive. Anyone who tries to stop you will answer to me.”
Elektra stared at the Maximus. She’d hoped for advice and support, perhaps an escort to get her safely to her mother. That this cleric would help her consolidate her power here had only been a distant hope. “Thank you,” she said, giving him a sincere smile.
Fall of the Titan (The Desolate Empire Book 5) Page 10
