Fall of the Titan (The Desolate Empire Book 5)

by Christina Ochs

  Hohenwart raised her eyebrows. “All right. I’ll show you my contract with Princess Viviane. Since you’re an old friend, I’ll give you a discount, but will need to have papers from the banker before I sign anything.”

  “I’ll bring them to you soon,” Maryna said, working up haughtiness to mask her worry.

  Back on the street, Anton said, “Mercenaries! Where is her loyalty?”

  “She doesn’t owe us any,” Maryna said. “She’s not even a Kronlander, I don’t think.”

  “Can you really get money here?” Anton asked.

  “I have no idea, but I’ll try. I need to change into better clothes first.”

  “I’m coming along of course,” Anton said. “I suppose I’d better change too.”

  An hour later, they’d hired a carriage and bumped down the cobbles of a busy street. Maryna wore her fanciest dress and had Greta do her hair.

  “You look very nice,” Maryna said, smiling at Anton.

  It was true. He wore a dark green velvet doublet with masses of snowy lace at the collar and cuffs. The matching breeches were fashionably puffy and tucked into tall shiny boots. A hat of the same color with a large white feather topped the whole thing off. “If I didn’t know it was you, I’d have thought you were a Galladian courtier,” Maryna added.

  “Thanks.” Anton’s chest puffed out like his breeches. “I got all of this in Allaux, while waiting for an audience with King Gauvain. It seemed a good time to do some shopping.”

  “I’d love to get a new dress in Allaux.” Maryna sighed. The one she wore had been made by the resident seamstress at Saarbrunnen and it didn’t fit right, besides being several years out of date.

  “We’ll go after the war,” Anton said, “and I’ll buy you anything you want.”

  At the thought of that, Maryna’s face turned bright red, but thankfully, the carriage stopped in front of a tall building with rows of barred windows.

  “The Princess of Terragand is here to see Master Kohler,” Anton said to the guard at the door, while Maryna looked down her nose at him.

  The guard’s eyes widened and he swept into a deep bow and opened the door. He led them into an airy antechamber, where several folk sat around on benches. “I’m sure Master Kohler will see you right away,” the guard said, then hurried to a woman sitting at a desk.

  She took one look at Maryna, got up and opened a tall glass door, then she came back, dropping into a deep curtsy. “This way, Your Grace.”

  Maryna followed her, hoping they were happy to see her because she had so much money here.

  Teodora

  Meeting up with Franca Dura like this was surely another sign from the gods, Teodora thought. In spite of her inability to defeat Lennart at Heidenhof, both Dura and her troops were competent and professional. With proper leadership, she’d be extremely successful. Teodora put her to work right away.

  “I need information before I decide what to do,” she told Dura when they met the next morning with all of Teodora’s staff. “I need to know how many troops Lennart has at Heidenhof and what he’s doing with them. I’m certain our combined forces can defeat him, but to do that, we need to know exactly what’s going on.”

  “I can find out for you,” Dura said. Her shining hair was pulled back into a tight braid as usual, and though she wore no armor, her clothes were sturdy, plain and soldierly. Teodora found they suited her well and failed to hide a smile at Captain Kolar’s open admiration. Someone like him would benefit from the influence of a competent woman, though Teodora didn’t want to wish him on anyone, except perhaps an enemy.

  “I’d like you to scout the area around Heidenhof,” Teodora said, pulling over a map. “Then return to me and we’ll make plans. I’ll keep moving north in the meantime.”

  Dura nodded. “I won’t need my whole regiment to scout. I’d like to leave most of them with you.”

  “That would be marvelous.” Teodora smiled. It would be nice to ride at the head of a real army again.

  “I’ll leave a Major Bartnik in charge here. She’s been with me since I formed this unit and is very reliable.”

  “Thank you.” Teodora was feeling happy and energetic again. She’d been sleeping better, the nightmares less vivid than usual, and she enjoyed working with an officer of sense. “If you help me take Heidenhof, I’ll make you a general.”

  “Let’s plan on that.” Dura cracked a rare smile. “I’ll likely need four or five days to travel there and get the information I need. As long as you keep heading straight north, I’ll find you easily enough. I doubt you’ll need to worry about running into the enemy on the way. With Lennart’s limited numbers, he’s keeping everyone close to the city.”

  That was a problem. Teodora needed enemy to practice on. She was getting an idea how things worked for her and a first step was controlling the nightmares. She did this by taking the sleeping potion Sybila usually gave her and avoiding wine in the evenings. That had been a hard habit to break, but worth it. For a time, she’d left off taking the potion because it made her sleepy during the day. But that was when the monsters came.

  She dismissed Dura, and sent for her second in command. They’d stay in camp for the rest of the day, since there was little reason to hurry. With only a few days’ journey to Heidenhof, Teodora would take her time while she waited for Dura to return.

  “Major Magda Bartnik reporting,” a strong voice announced at the entrance to Teodora’s tent.

  “Have a seat,” Teodora said, looking the woman over. She wasn’t tall, but sturdily built, with short blond hair and a broad, high-cheekboned face. Teodora liked the look of her. “We don’t have many plans to make at the moment, but I was hoping you might help me with something else.”

  “Certainly,” Bartnik said, taking a small sip of the wine set before her, then pushing it away.

  “Not to your liking?”

  “It’s fine. But I don’t drink while on campaign.”

  “How unusual. But I approve. There are far too many officers with perpetually clouded heads.”

  “It’s a problem,” Bartnik said. “I’ve ordered everyone under me to abstain, though enforcement is difficult.”

  “I imagine so.” Teodora chuckled. “Even I haven’t tried that.” Then she turned serious. “I have a rather unusual request. I left my priest behind in Isenwald and have had no one else to turn to since arriving in Terragand. They’re all Quadrenes here.”

  Bartnik gave a derisive snort. “Tell me about it. Heretics everywhere. I was disappointed we couldn’t get into Heidenhof to get rid of that Landrus. I would have gladly killed him myself.”

  “You are a woman after my own heart.” Teodora was warmed through. “I was hoping you might have a chaplain I could borrow.”

  Bartik looked surprised, but said, “Certainly. Father Alyk came from the big temple in Novuk. He’d be honored to see you.”

  “Thank you. It would be a relief to speak to a truly devout cleric.”

  “I’ll send him to you straight away,” Bartik said. “Is there anything else?”

  “Not right now, but plan to move out in the morning.”

  Major Bartik took her leave and, not a quarter hour later, the priest appeared. Father Alyk was a slender man of indeterminate age. His light hair might have been white, or pale blond, and his eyes were also unnervingly pale. At first he reminded Teodora of Edric Landrus and she shuddered.

  “I am so honored you’ve sent for me Your Highness. As a youth, I’d studied with Livilla Maxima and had always hoped to serve you. But instead, she sent me to attend to your brother in Sanova.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Teodora said. “Please sit. How is it you no longer serve my brother?”

  “After a few years, he decided he’d rather be attended by a pretty young priestess and released me to a fine position at a temple.”

  “Typical. But why did you join the army?”

  Father Alyk’s eyes hardened. “I could no longer sit by and watch the assault on our
faith. When Colonel Dura sent out a call for clergy to join her new army, it felt like a sign from the gods.”

  “It’s always wise to pay attention to those.” Teodora shifted in her seat. She wasn’t sure about trusting this man, but if he’d served Livilla, it might be worth taking the chance. “In fact, I’m dealing with something right now I think is a sign, but I’m not sure what to do about it. Do you swear to speak of this to no one?”

  “Of course, Your Highness.” The priest’s cool eyes were so sincere that Teodora believed him.

  Elektra

  When Elektra stepped in front of the mirror—surprisingly large for a military tent—she was pleased at what she saw. The page—Kyra—had gone and reappeared with a rather nice dress. Elektra couldn’t think who it might belong to, though it might well be plunder, judging by the quality and quantity of the lace, and the pearls trimming the seams. The pale yellow color flattered Elektra too, and it fit well enough, though she had to have Kyra help lace her corset up tighter than usual.

  It was also lower-cut than what Elektra was accustomed to. She was always most comfortable in the loose-fitting, high-necked acolyte’s dresses, but those weren’t appropriate for her position any longer and besides, she’d brought nothing with her. She tugged at the neckline, uncomfortable at seeing the tops of her breasts.

  “I’d fix your hair, but I don’t know how,” Kyra said, her voice small. Her own head sported a tangle of dark curls, chopped off at chin length.

  “It’s fine the way it is.” Kyra had helped Elektra wash her hair, and thanks to the warmth of the late afternoon, it had already dried. It sprang into loose curls and Elektra decided to just leave it down. It was rather informal, but even though this was a general’s feast, it was taking place on short notice, in the middle of nowhere.

  Another soldier came to get her, and led her between the tents, to a long table set beneath the trees, unlit torches positioned all around. Though the sun was low, it hadn’t set, so it was still rather light.

  A number of officers in varied finery stood about, and Elektra wished she weren’t the only one in a dress. In Isenwald, she’d become used to being the center of attention, but had learned that always came with plenty of criticism. Far more comfortable to just not be noticed.

  But that wasn’t how things would be. Once she became empress, everyone would notice her all the time, so she might as well get used to it.

  Elektra raised her head and smiled at the nearest officer, then looked around for Mattila. She didn’t see the general, but spotted someone else she knew.

  He saw her at the same time, a smile spreading across his face.

  “Prince Aksel!” She hurried across the grass to where he stood with another young man. “How did you come to be here?”

  “Your Grace.” He bowed, though he still looked up at her, his blue eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. “It’s a long story, but hopefully you’ll stay with us for a while so I have time to tell it. The general said you'd come, but I could hardly believe it.”

  Elektra took his hands, unable to stop smiling. It had been so long since she’d seen a real friend. “I can hardly believe it myself. Also a long story.” She wondered how much she ought to tell Aksel. She thought she could trust him, but first she needed to figure out how he’d come to be with Mattila.

  Aksel held onto one of her hands and turned to the young man beside her. Tall, with wavy black hair and wicked dark eyes, he might have been better-looking than Aksel, though he didn’t seem as nice. “Your Grace, I’d like you to meet Baron Jozef Mattila, a good friend of mine.”

  Elektra inclined her head as Jozef executed an impeccable bow. “How nice. Are you related to the general?”

  “I’m her son.” Jozef straightened up, and smiled at Elektra, revealing a row of white teeth. Then he stared at her chest rather boldly.

  “Oh.” Elektra didn't hide her surprise, and tugged at her neckline again, trying to recall why she didn’t know the general had children. She never talked about them and Elektra had never pictured her as a mother. “How nice you can join your mother on campaign.”

  Jozef rolled his eyes after tearing them away from her bosom. “Not as much fun as you’d think. It’s dirty and inconvenient, and we’re not allowed to hunt, for fear of running into the enemy.”

  “What a shame,” Elektra murmured, wondering if Jozef commanded his own unit. That was one thing Mattila could give her, and Elektra had already decided she’d ask for it. If she was in charge of her own regiment, she might have some independence and could slip away when the opportunity presented itself.

  She startled when Mattila came up behind her. “Making friends already, I see. Just as I’d hoped.” She put an arm around Elektra’s shoulder. “You’ll have the place of honor at table. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not.” Elektra did mind, but she knew better than to argue with Mattila over this.

  Jozef offered his arm and Elektra took it, though she cast a glance back at Aksel who shrugged and smiled at her. Hopefully he’d be seated close by. That would give her courage.

  Elektra sat at the head of the long table, with Jozef on her right and the general on her left. Aksel sat on the other side of the general, so he wasn’t far away.

  For an outdoor meal arranged quickly in a military camp, the feast was rather impressive. “We didn’t have time to roast a pig,” Mattila said. “But I had some rather nice ham I kept back for a moment like this.”

  The ham was good, if salty, and Elektra was forced to drink more wine than she’d planned. The general had also brought out her best vintage, and it went down easier than water. Elektra had to remind herself that while her tongue might be loosened, she had to mind her words more than ever.

  Fortunately, Mattila kept the conversation away from politics and military matters. Jozef talked at length about his hunting stables, the contents of which he’d brought along. It sounded like a vast and inconvenient number of horses and dogs with no military use taking up space and supplies. Mattila must be a surprisingly indulgent mother.

  When Jozef ran out of things to say, Elektra turned to Aksel. “I don’t suppose you’ve been able to continue your scientific experiments.”

  “On the contrary.” Aksel’s face was rosy from the wine, and he pushed his spectacles back up his nose. “I brought all of my equipment with me, and the general has been kind enough to put a tent at my disposal.”

  “How marvelous.” Elektra smiled. “You must show me what you’re working on.”

  She didn’t miss Mattila’s scowl. Why did she care who Elektra was friends with?

  Braeden

  “Don’t drop your sword arm, even for a second, Your Grace.”

  Braeden swatted at Devyn’s wooden sword, and he got it back into position. They were practicing in the courtyard of Edric’s palace. Gwynneth had asked Braeden to give Devyn as much training as he could fit in while they laid plans here for whatever came next.

  “My arm is sore,” Devyn complained, though he held the sword up as Braeden told him.

  “That’s why we practice so much.” Braeden lunged at Devyn, aiming for his legs, and was pleased by the prince’s decisive parry. “You need to build up your strength.”

  “I am strong,” Devyn said, advancing on Braeden.

  “‘Course you are. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.” Braeden blocked Devyn’s thrust. “But you have a lot of fighting ahead of you, and if you want to survive it, you’ve got to be stronger and better than everyone. Stronger and better than you are now.”

  “I was hoping once we got here things would settle down for a while, and I would just wait for my sister.” Devyn’s arm and head drooped.

  “Hah.” Braeden slashed at Devyn, but just a little slower, forcing him to raise his arm again. He was breathing hard himself, but he’d never let Devyn see how old he felt most days. “Nothing ever settles down as long as there’s a war on. You should know that by now.”

  Devyn took a deep br
eath and attacked.

  Braeden barely held him off. “Good job, Your Grace. Stay on the offensive as long as you can. Makes it hard for your opponent to think.”

  “Aren’t we stuck defending the city now?” Devyn asked, lunging forward again.

  “Not exactly,” Braeden said. He was close to running out of breath, talking as he fought. “Why don’t we take a short break?” He dropped his sword onto a nearby bench, sat down beside it and took a swig of water from a jug placed at the end.

  Devyn dropped onto the bench next to him with a huff and drank from another jug. “Shouldn’t I participate in the military planning?”

  “You will.” Braeden leaned against the wall, letting the sun warm his face. It had broken out after days of rain. “I’m sure the king will send for you soon.”

  “Mattila is so close,” Devyn said. “What if she’s already in Terragand?”

  “She still has to get here. Lennart is good at working out how to beat her. He’ll come up with a way to take her on and you’ll be part of that. Pay close attention to what he does, and how he involves his generals and their officers. I can’t be certain, but I’m willing to bet he won't sit inside the city and wait for Mattila. He will choose a good spot for a battle and let her come there instead.”

  “Will she?”

  “I think so, especially if she has to get through him to reach the city. He can block the river valley and make the Garsten Gap impassable.”

  “What if she goes somewhere else?”

  “She won’t. She wants Heidenhof, and Edric Maximus in particular. And now you’re here, you.” There was no point in concealing the truth. Devyn had to realize his life was still in danger.

  “They won’t stop until we’re all dead, will they?” Devyn sighed. “I wish Maryna would get here. I worry she’s not safe out there, even though Anton is taking care of her.”