“My thoughts exactly.” The duke now looked approving. “I always appreciate talking to people with sense. Aside from having a hot head, you seem quite a rational fellow.”
“I try,” Trystan said modestly, then switched to the more innocuous topic of hunting on the duke’s estate.
“You’ll come join me there later,” the duke said. “Might as well enjoy ourselves while we work out the exact terms of your reward.” It seemed he didn’t want to change the subject. “You understand that I might ask you to act directly against the king, if necessary?”
“I understand.” Trystan kept his voice cool and narrowed his eyes. “In fact, I’d welcome such an opportunity. It was only yesterday he betrayed me, and I’m still angry. Killing him or Natalya might make me feel a lot better.”
“Me too,” the duke said with a smile. “With the king and Natalya gone, there’s no point in keeping their daughter alive. I’m sure you understand.”
Trystan shrugged and smiled over a sudden rush of fear. “I think I do.”
Teodora
Teodora tried to calm herself, but panic overwhelmed her. She tried calling up the monsters, but nothing happened, though her head ached again. Surely someone would come soon and check on her. Then they would see what had happened and ...
The problem was whoever had done this had to have been close. They would have known Teodora was drifting off to sleep, would have known about Sibyla giving her the potion.
Sibyla. Teodora refused to believe it. Her oldest friend wouldn’t harm her deliberately. No. She’d given her something to help her sleep and someone else knew about it, waited for Teodora to drift off, then came in and tied her up. Her tent was guarded, but guards might be overcome.
“Holy Vica, help me,” she prayed, tears pushing against her eyelids. She blinked them back and tried to come up with a plan. She needed help, but doubted anyone would come in the middle of the night. At least, she thought it was the middle of the night. Straining to listen for a moment, she still heard the clatters and murmurs of camp, so perhaps it wasn’t as late as it seemed. Someone would come then, a servant at least.
Teodora closed her eyes and breathed deeply until she calmed herself, and set to work on her bonds. Her wrists were tied with silky rope in elaborate knots, and it was almost impossible to get her fingertips anywhere near them.
She had nothing better to do though, so she kept trying until she got a thumb under the rope. She worked it toward the nearest knot. She wasn't sure how it was tied but she would try to loosen it.
Teodora became so intent on her task, she didn’t realize someone had come into the tent until light flooded it. She blinked.
Sibyla stood at the foot of her cot, along with someone else.
“How could you?” Teodora wailed, though only a pathetic squeak came out through the gag.
Sibyla pulled a chair near and sat down. The other person remained in the shadows.
“Your Highness, I’m so sorry.”
Teodora made an outraged noise and shook her head violently. She hated to have her oldest friend executed, but she would do it for this.
“We had to do it for your own safety.” Sibyla inclined her head to the other person, who stepped into the light. It was Father Alyk.
Teodora screamed in frustration against the gag. She should have known better than to confide in a stranger. Anyone who’d ever been in her brother’s employ would never mean her any good.
Father Alyk pulled up another chair. “You have been led astray,” he said, his voice soft. “Sibyla told me what happened to you in Isenwald. That man must be removed from his post and executed. It is against our faith to perform such rituals.”
“But Livilla...” Teodora tried to say, mumbling against the gag. She’d been the first to do it, and Claudius Maximus only followed her original instructions.
Father Alyk shook his head. “It’s one thing for someone like Livilla to perform such a ritual. She’s been consecrated by the Imperata herself. No one else alive is capable. What the Maximus did to you was false, dark magic. You were fortunate to escape with your life.
“But there is no question he harmed you. The things you saw you were certain were demons, they’re not real. You are imagining them. It’s part of a sickness brought on by taking in the diseased blood of a heretic.”
Teodora refused to believe it. The ritual had brought her youth and strength. It was about to bring her so much more. She would not allow these people to stop her. She struggled some more, but it did no good.
Sibyla sighed and leaned forward, the lamplight reflecting tears in her eyes. “I ask your forgiveness for this though I know you’ll never grant it. Major Bartnik is taking over the entire force and will wait here for Mattila. In the meantime, we will send you back to Atlona with a strong escort, which Captain Kolar has agreed to lead. With any luck Livilla will help you. I’ve already sent her a letter so she can make her preparations.”
Teodora quieted, but only because of her shock. That anyone would dare to drug, tie up and ship off the woman who ruled one of the world’s largest empires was beyond comprehension.
A priest and a doctor no less. Who did they think they were? And Teodora would rather die than spend weeks on the road with only Captain Kolar for company. It was intolerable. She wouldn’t do it.
Staring at Sibyla and Father Alyk, Teodora couldn’t believe they were acting on their own. Someone powerful had to be behind this. Someone like Lennart, or Mattila, or even her brother, incompetent though he was. She knew he’d been plotting against her for decades; maybe he’d had a stroke of luck, sending this treacherous priest her way and hoping for the best.
Teodora narrowed her eyes. They might try to pack her off, but it wouldn’t work. Especially with a nitwit like Kolar in charge, she’d find a way to escape. Then they’d all be sorry.
“I’m sure you’re hungry and thirsty,” Sibyla said. “Will you promise to be quiet while I give you a little something?”
Teodora nodded.
The moment Father Alyk removed the gag, she shrieked at the top of her lungs.
“Grab her nose,” Sibyla said sharply. “I must drug her again.
Alyk held her nose.
Teodora held her breath as long as she could. She didn’t care if she passed out. But just as her vision clouded over, the black tendrils appeared at the corners of her eyes. “Help me,” she pleaded at them. Her mouth opened and Sibyla poured the bitter potion down her throat.
Teodora gasped for air, choking as half the liquid went into her lungs.
The priest let go of her nose as she coughed violently.
“I’m ... going ... to kill ... you,” she managed between coughs, and then Sibyla tied something over her mouth again.
Elektra
After rushing out of Mattila’s tent as fast as she could, Elektra slowed down and peered down the pathways between tents. Most were too narrow for her to stop in, and soldiers walked along the wider ones, or sat on camp stools in small clusters, smoking pipes and gossiping. Voices chattered, armor clanked, horses stamped, and she was conscious of eyes on her no matter which way she turned.
The day was too warm. Elektra yanked open the top two buttons of her bodice. She could hardly breathe. She needed somewhere quiet to think, but didn’t want to go back to her tent, with the page hovering.
The camp buzzed with activity as she walked between the tents, trying to think of what to do. She wondered if Mattila was getting ready to move out, or if this was normal. It had been too long since Elektra had been in a military camp, and now she recalled lack of privacy as a notable feature.
Maybe she should return to her tent and send Kyra away for a while. Elektra took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She wished she had someone to talk to, and give her advice, but she was far from any friends. Then she smiled, remembering she did have a friend here.
She stopped the next soldier who passed. “Can you tell me the way to Prince Aksel’s laboratory?”
&nb
sp; “That’s easy enough.” The man turned and pointed. “It’s that one over there, a little apart from the rest. It’s so he doesn’t blow us up if an experiment goes wrong.”
Elektra hurried toward the tent. As she came near the open flap, she heard a fizzing noise and asked, “Is it all right if I come in?”
“Yes, of course,” Aksel called. “Step to the right and have a seat.”
Elektra ducked inside and found two camp chairs to her right. Before sitting down, she looked around. The tent was small and crammed with benches covered in all kinds of equipment. Large trunks stood all around the sides. “Packing and unpacking all of this every time the army moves must be a pain.”
“It is, but worth it.” Aksel poured a green liquid from one beaker into another, stared at the resulting yellowish bubbles, and scribbled something on a paper beside it. “I’m making great progress on several different projects. Give me a moment and I’ll come sit with you.” He smiled at her. “We have a lot to talk about.”
Elektra forced herself to smile back. Much as she wanted to hear how he’d made friends with Jozef and become Mattila’s camp scientist, she needed help with her immediate problem.
As she waited for Aksel while he put beakers and metal instruments into a wooden crate with a great deal of clattering, she realized she liked him as much as always. Now she felt considerable regret she hadn’t done as her mother had wanted and married him several years ago. How different her life might be right now.
Before coming over to her, Aksel grabbed a clay jug and two cups, squeezing between tables to reach her. “I don’t know about you, but I need more water. I got much too drunk last night. That wine was stronger than any I’ve had before.” He poured the water and handed a cup to Elektra before sitting down beside her.
“So it wasn’t just me.” She sipped at the water gratefully. Her encounter with Mattila had sent the sickness rushing back.
“If it didn’t sound so crazy, I’d say the general was trying to get all of us drunk last night,” Aksel said, setting his empty cup on a box in front of them.
“I think she might have been,” Elektra said, then took a deep breath and told him about Mattila’s offer.
Aksel’s expression went from happiness at the fulfillment of Elektra’s ambition, to concern at what it would cost. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “That’s cruel of the general, unless you really are interested in Jozef. It’s understandable if you are. He’s a nice fellow and very good-looking. A lot of girls like him.”
“Well, I don’t.” Realizing Aksel and Jozef were friends, Elektra added, “At least, I don’t know him well enough to be sure. I don’t want to marry a stranger, and he’s only a baron. I’m amazed Mattila thought it possible.”
“There’s no one here to stop her.” Aksel’s twinkling blue eyes were subdued. “Though your mother might do something about it later.”
“She could have it annulled.” Elektra brightened. “She’d have to go through Livilla, but I'm sure she’d do it.”
“Hmm.” Aksel smiled. “And then you could marry someone else, if you wanted to.”
Elektra smiled back. “Yes. Someone more appropriate, like a prince.” She hated the idea of being married to Jozef for any length of time, but if it meant getting what she wanted, then finding a way out later, it might be worth it.
She didn’t mention it to Aksel, but if she joined up with Lennart, she was sure Edric Maximus would offer an annulment as well. Everyone would understand she’d agreed to the marriage only because of being threatened and coerced. That wasn’t legal anywhere.
“Still, you might not mind Jozef. He’s easy to be around,” Aksel said.
Elektra wrinkled her nose. She’d said the bit about the prince because it was true, but also partly because she hoped Aksel might take the hint. “I’d always hoped I’d have a say in who I married.”
Aksel shook his head. “That’s unrealistic for royalty. I always expected I’d marry someone my brother chose for me.”
Elektra felt deflated, though she knew he was right. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to that for me. Though looking back, perhaps I should have gone along with my mother’s wishes and married you.”
“Aside from your mother trying to control our lives, it might have been all right.” Aksel smiled. “We get on well, and you wouldn’t be in this situation now if we were married.”
“I wish we were,” Elektra whispered, blinking back tears. The last thing she’d expected coming here was to throw herself at Aksel, but the comparison to Jozef was too stark for her to hold back.
“I’m sorry.” Aksel took her hand. “This must be awful for you. But if you’re going to go ahead with this, it’s best to forget any other possibilities. That’ll only make you more miserable.”
“You’re right.” Elektra squeezed his hand before pulling hers away. “I shouldn’t have brought up the past.” Now her cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
“Please don’t worry about it.” Aksel looked at her until she looked him in the eye. “We’re friends; we can talk about these things.”
“I’m glad. And thank you for listening.” Elektra decided it was time to go before she made an even bigger fool out of herself.
Anton
The first few days in Terragand were uneventful, but they got lucky when their scouts ran into Duke Orland’s. Emilya Hohenwart called Maryna, Anton and her officers for a quick meeting at the side of the road.
“This is good news,” Hohenwart said, unrolling a map onto a small table. “The bulk of Orland’s force is here.” She stuck a red pin at a point at the edge of the nearest mountain range. “He’s got smaller units spread out along the Velta valley, but he’s holding the rest back hoping to face Mattila.”
She scowled, while sticking a few more pins in various places. “But even our joint forces aren’t enough to face her. We need to link up with Lennart.”
“Any word on where he is?” Anton asked.
“The scout says Heidenhof, though he couldn’t say if he’d lifted the siege. I would expect he has by now. Let’s move out and hurry. I want to meet up with Orland tomorrow.”
“This is great,” Anton told Maryna once they were underway. He’d always loved looking at her, but he enjoyed it even more, now that she wore the beautiful armor. It was plain steel, but shiny, like everything else Hohenwart was in charge of, with a few delicate flourishes to suit a young girl. “I know Duke Orland well.” He didn’t want to sound too boastful, but it was true.
“It’s such a relief,” Maryna said, “I need all the allies I can get.” Her face was more serious than usual, but maybe that was because she was finally here, taking her place as princess. It was a lot for Anton to take in, so it was probably a lot harder for her.
“Duke Orland is a good one.” Anton smiled at her.
They turned northeast, headed for the mountains that loomed purple in the distance. Spring was here now, heading for summer, which made riding in armor a warm business. But Hohenwart insisted they all stay prepared. “Even if no enemy is about, being ready for battle makes a good impression on new allies,” she said.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Maryna said, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Riding around in this all day, and even fighting in it. It’s so hot.”
“I got used to it,” Anton said. “You will too. And if there’s a fight you’ll forget all about it.”
They rode into a camp well-hidden in the forests flanking the foothills. Clad all in leather, Duke Orland still looked elegant, and greeted Anton with as much warmth as he probably was capable of. “It’s good to see you, Captain is it now? I heard how you distinguished yourself on the Obenstein.” The duke scowled, but in a friendly way. Then he looked around. “Where’s the horse I gave you? Hopefully he hasn’t come to harm.”
“Oh no,” Anton said. “I had to leave him in Allaux when I went to Tirovor. No doubt he’s getting fat in King Gauvain’s stables. A friend should bring him soon.” Trystan had promised to br
ing Storm back when he returned to Kronland. Hopefully he was already on his way.
The duke gave Maryna a more formal greeting, though Anton didn’t miss how he looked her over. After a long meal, spread across rough tables under the trees, the duke gestured at Anton.
“Walk with me back to my tent, Kronek,” he said.
Once they were away from the larger group, the Duke said, “Can you give me your honest opinion of the princess?”
“Sure,” Anton said, though he wouldn’t tell the duke he was in love with her. “What do you want to know?’
“I’m concerned,” the duke said, stopping at the edge of a small clearing where dozens of hobbled horses grazed. “Not only is she young, she seems rather soft. Right now, Terragand needs a strong ruler.”
Anton took a deep breath. “Honestly, I’ve been impressed by her.”
“Not just because she’s pretty, I hope?” The duke smiled just a little.
“No.” Anton had to smile too. “She was close to her father, and took his death hard. But she’s determined to do what must be done, and she’s tough. Smart too. She might never be a warrior, but she’ll be a great politician.”
“Huh,” the duke said. “A warrior is what’s needed right now. I’ve heard good things about her brother, Devyn.”
“Devyn will be quite a fighter someday,” Anton said, “but he’s only thirteen.”
The duke sighed. “Kendryk died at a bad time. I’ll never forgive myself for encouraging him to go to Isenwald. I realize with the children so young, their mother will make the important decisions. But I’m not sure of her either.”
“Of Princess Gwynneth?” Anton found that hard to believe.
Fall of the Titan (The Desolate Empire Book 5) Page 27
