Fall of the Titan (The Desolate Empire Book 5)

by Christina Ochs

  Braeden nodded. “I'm sure the princess regent doesn’t approve of the two of you spending any time alone together, but I also know you’ve been good friends for a long time. Doesn’t seem right to send you into danger without a chance to say goodbye.”

  Anton pushed down a twinge of fear. Until this moment he’d been so busy he hadn’t considered being afraid of battle. In fact, he’d been looking forward to it. Now he thought about it, the idea of never seeing Maryna again upset him more than he wanted to admit.

  Once Braeden had gone, he told Karil. He wasn’t sure what his relationship was with Greta, but she’d likely be accompanying Maryna. Gwynneth had taken one look at the formidable girl and pronounced her the perfect companion for the princess.

  “This is a bad idea,” Karil said as they rode back toward the city, the setting sun casting long shadows behind them and their horses.

  “You always say that.” Anton grinned. “It hasn’t been bad yet.”

  “Yet,” Karil said, shaking his head, though he grinned back. “But I can see there’s nothing I can do to stop your stupidity, so I’ll help only this once. I promise to keep Greta busy inside the palace for a good long while. She’ll never even wonder where the princess has gone.” Judging by the sparkle in Karil’s eyes, this would be no great hardship.

  Anton couldn’t stop smiling. He took Storm into his stall and dismissed the groom. Anton liked grooming Storm himself so that was nothing unusual. He gave him oats and water, then set to brushing his glossy black coat. Once it turned dark he lit a lamp hanging from a beam and settled down on a pile of straw.

  The stall door opened with a whisper, and Maryna was inside, blinking in the lamplight. She’d somehow found her way here in the dark, a good choice, considering.

  Anton jumped to his feet. “I’m so glad you came.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she flung her arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you terribly and worried you wouldn’t come back before leaving. I asked Braeden where I could find you and he told me not to worry about it.”

  Anton put an arm around her waist, pulling her down onto the straw beside him. “Have you told Braeden about us?”

  She shook her head, her eyes glimmering in the light. “I told him you were my best friend. Maybe he’s guessed the rest, but he hasn’t said anything about it.”

  “He won’t say anything,” Anton said, putting his other arm around her shoulder and pulling her close.

  “I don’t care if he does,” Maryna whispered, smiling. “I won’t let my mother stop us.” Her face fell. “But I worry about you. Everyone says it will be a terrible battle.”

  “It will be.” Anton offered a reassuring smile. “But you shouldn’t worry. Trystan is a great commander and I’m always lucky. I’ve been hurt a few times, but it’s never anything serious. And I’m smarter than I used to be.”

  “Good.” Maryna brushed her hand over the scar on Anton’s cheek. “I want you to be more careful than you used to be too. Remember that I’m waiting for you.”

  “I never forget that.” Anton grabbed her hand, then pulled her in close for a kiss. This time they didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing them, so he took his time.

  When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Maryna’s eyes were full of tears. “This only makes it harder, you know.”

  He nodded, swallowing down a lump in his throat. “But I’ll be back after the battle, I promise.” Then he kissed her again, much longer this time. Being able to breathe didn’t feel so important anymore.

  Elektra

  Mattila’s enormous army made good time through Isenwald, skirting the edges of the deepest forest. Elektra wondered what the people here thought of her helping Mattila now, and being married to her son. The general had spread the word of the marriage, likely so Elektra couldn’t lie about it.

  But marriage to Jozef was the least of her worries. In fact, she almost never saw him, arriving at their tent late, after signing off on all the paperwork involved in running two regiments. Feeling that Magda Bartnik was more than capable of managing the cavalry, Elektra turned her attention to the infantry, which was in less impressive condition.

  The officers were of decent quality, but having become familiar with the Estenorians, Elektra wanted to impose better discipline. She wished she might make them say the Quadrene prayers too, but on top of exposing her change of heart, it wouldn’t go over well. So she did what she could.

  “We’re going into battle soon,” she said, giving her infantry colonel a stern glare. They sat in his tent after supper with several other officers, reviewing orders for the next day. “We’ll arrive in Terragand within days and must be prepared. I don’t want the troops distracted, so I’m forbidding gambling and cutting alcohol rations in half.”

  The colonel fumbled with his quill in shock, nearly dropping it. “No gambling? What are the soldiers to do in their spare time?”

  “I don’t want them to have spare time, aside from meals and sleep.” Elektra lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes.

  The colonel shrank back.

  “If they have time for gambling,” she went on, glaring at the other officers, “they have time to clean their equipment and drill with their weapons. The musketeers, especially. The moment we make camp, have them practice reloading. They’re still much too slow and no match for the Estenorian muskets.”

  The colonel scowled, but scribbled something. “Very well, Your Grace. Though I must warn you, it won’t be popular.”

  “I don’t care about being popular.” Elektra realized with a shock she sounded like Teodora. “I care about winning the battle. And we won’t win if our equipment isn’t in good condition and the troops well-drilled.”

  “Of course,” the colonel muttered, grumbling under his breath as she left the tent.

  By the time she reached hers, Jozef was sound asleep, sprawled across the double bed. Elektra crawled in, pushing him aside, though she had to admit, sleeping next to someone big and warm was rather pleasant.

  And more than once she’d awakened to Jozef wrapped all around her, still sound asleep, not even waking as she untangled herself. That was nice too, and if she hadn’t been so busy, she might have stayed in bed longer to enjoy it.

  But now she was always up before dawn, her page Kyra arriving at the same time to light a lamp and help Elektra into clothes and armor. The girl had much greater facility with that than with fancy dresses. Even all the clanking didn’t wake Jozef, who relied on servants to get his animals fed, watered and ready for the day ahead.

  While munching on a roll baked in a wagon-built oven the evening before, Elektra made her way down the long infantry column, already in march formation. Judging by the resentful mutters, the new orders had already come down.

  It didn’t matter. Once these troops belonged to Lennart, he’d be even stricter and they’d remember Elektra’s more benign reign fondly.

  As she rode to the column ahead and gave the order to march, Elektra wondered if Lennart would let her keep these troops or assign others to her. Or perhaps he’d be so pleased at what she’d done he’d give her an even bigger command.

  She rode along at a walk, daydreaming, when a messenger appeared. “Major Bartnik needs you with the cavalry, Your Grace.”

  Elektra hurried after the messenger. The cavalry had no problems, with already minimal drinking and gambling under Bartnik’s stern command. She wondered what was going on, though she guessed once Bartnik came into view.

  Elektra took a deep breath and put an insincere smile on her face, spotting an angry-looking redhead next to the major.

  Bartnik had clearly already informed Franca Dura as to Elektra’s situation, since Franca met her with the same insincere smile. “Your Grace, what a surprise.”

  “Indeed.” Elektra left it at that. “I trust you have information on Lennart’s positions?” She wondered if there was a way to keep that from Mattila, but didn't know how.

  “I do.” Franca nodded. “With your p
ermission, I’ll go to General Mattila and debrief.”

  “I’ll come along,” Elektra said, deciding she still needed the information.

  They rode to Mattila’s position in silence. If this had been anyone but Franca, Elektra would have questioned them, but she was too uncomfortable.

  Mattila’s smiled broadly when she saw them. “Finally,” she said, reaching out to take the dispatches Franca handed over.

  “Mostly my own notes,” Franca said. “I sketched out the enemy positions. They knew I was around, so they might still change them.”

  “They can only maneuver so much in that area.” Mattila didn’t seem concerned as she looked over the papers, Franca and Elektra riding on either side of her. “Tell me, do you know if Leyf Lofbrok made it to Heidenhof?”

  “He was close,” Franca said, “coming out of Podoska as I crossed back into Isenwald. Did you hear about the empress?”

  Mattila nodded. “Headed to Atlona.”

  “No.” Franca caught Elektra’s eye. “Captured by Princess Edyta.”

  “Oh gods.” Elektra couldn’t hold it back.

  Mattila’s face was grim. “No doubt she’ll want something. Has she made any offers?”

  “Not yet. At least nothing official.”

  “Just as well. We need to get this battle over with first.” Mattila looked serious, but a small light flickered in her cold eyes. “After that, I must find a way to free the empress.” She chuckled. “Though it will cost her dearly.”

  Lennart

  “Come here, you rascal.” Lennart swooped Kataryna off the floor and into his arms. It was past her bedtime, but she had been running around the room, trying to escape her nurse. He kissed the little girl on her chubby cheek and grinned as she wound her arms around his neck. “I’ll put her to bed,” he told the nurse.

  Raysa followed him into the nursery. She’d been even quieter than usual that evening and Lennart understood why. He was feeling down himself. Even if the battle was short and went well, it was unlikely he’d return here within the next few months.

  Once he’d defeated Mattila, he’d head straight for Podoska and deal with Teodora. That would put an end to the war, but there was still a lot to do to make the empire secure.

  By the time he returned, Kataryna might have forgotten him once more. But after that, they’d all return home to Estenor and he wouldn’t be parted from her again.

  He kissed Kataryna’s cheek again and stood at the window, staring out at the twilight garden and holding her until she fell asleep on his shoulder. Then, he laid her in the little bed.

  He could have gazed at her forever, engraving her face on his mind, her dark hair spread across the pillows, her cheeks rosy, her little mouth slightly open, breathing softly. But the light faded, and Raysa laid a hand on his arm.

  “Come, I have something to give you before dinner.”

  Lennart followed Raysa back into her sitting room, shutting the nursery door behind him. “You can say goodbye properly later on.” He grinned, hoping to lift her spirits.

  Raysa smiled at him, though he knew his wife well enough to realize she was holding back tears. “I have a gift for you and wanted to give it to you now. That way your servant can pack it with the rest of your things.”

  Aside from one trunk, Lennart’s clothes and equipment were already laden on the baggage train. Except for a strong garrison at Heidenhof and a smaller one at Birkenfels, he was taking his entire army.

  With Emilya Hohenwart and Trystan’s contributions, he’d made up Tora Isenberg’s numbers. Troops camped for leagues around the city, and an endless train of wagons had already lumbered out of the city, taking up positions along the road south.

  The army would march out in the morning and the wagons would follow. Lennart didn’t plan to go over forty leagues before running into Mattila, but he wanted to be prepared for anything.

  Lennart took a seat in a chair while Raysa glided into the next room, casting a soft glance at him over her shoulder. He smiled, for the thousandth time full of appreciation for his wife. Even though she’d become more confident and queenly, she’d never lost that gentle sweetness unique to her.

  As she returned, holding a bundle, Lennart said,” You know I love you very much.”

  She sat down on his knee with a smile, though it soon faded. “I wish you loved me enough not to put yourself in danger. Why can’t you do what General Hohenwart does? She commands from the rear and no one thinks less of her.”

  “That’s not how it works.” They’d had this conversation before. “This is what I do. Everyone would think I’d lost my nerve if I suddenly changed. Besides, I like it.”

  “I realize that, and that’s what worries me.” She sighed, then shoved the bundle into his hands. “I don’t expect you to do things differently, even though I wish you would. But could you please at least wear this for me?”

  Lennart unwound the length of black velvet, then whistled through his teeth at the gold helmet it revealed. Worked in the shape of a lion’s head, the mane framed his face, while the visor bore the eyes, nose and open mouth, showing long fangs. Lennart laughed. “I love it.”

  “Do you?” Raysa peered at him anxiously. “I know you don’t like helmets. But I’ll worry a little less if you’re wearing one.”

  “I’ll wear this.” Lennart put it on his head. It was surprisingly light for its size.

  “Even if it’s hot?” Raysa still looked worried.

  “Even if it’s hot. I’ll take a little discomfort to look extra ferocious.” He pulled the visor down and growled playfully.

  Raysa smiled. “Good. I know you hate wearing anything on your head, but it’s important. All of that other armor won’t do any good if someone gets a lucky shot.”

  “You’re right.” Lennart pushed the visor up. It was already getting warm in there. “I love this, and thank you.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” Raysa took it off his head and put it on a table beside them. “I had the best armorer in town make it. I told him it has to be light and strong, and look intimidating.”

  “You’re wonderful.” Lennart pulled her in for a kiss. “Tell you what? Once I’ve won the battle, if things look clear, I’ll send for you and Kataryna. No doubt I’ll have to go to Atlona to wrap things up, but there’s no reason the two of you can’t come along.”

  “I’d love that, and so will our daughter. She always likes an adventure.”

  “I can’t wait.” Lennart nuzzled her neck. “I swear, once this business with Mattila is done, I won’t leave you behind again.”

  “Good.” Raysa pulled back to smile at him, her dark blue eyes a bit watery. “But get the business done first, and safely. Starting tomorrow, I’ll spend every day on my knees in the temple, asking the gods to watch over you.”

  “Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?” Lennart kissed her one more time, hoping that was the truth.

  Anton

  The order came after they passed the village of Diessen, the last port on the Velta River. Anton stopped Storm in his tracks to read it.

  “Mattila is just ahead,” he told Karil. “The king says we’re to advance a few more leagues before taking up our positions. I’ll go talk to Trystan.”

  Anton worked his way up the long column of Galladian infantry, marching down the road five abreast. It was hot in the choking dust, stirred up by over thirty thousand pairs of soldier’s boots, not to mention as many camp followers, along with the thousands of animals and wagons in the baggage train. Anton had been part of an army nearly this size under Ensden, but not as an officer. This was much better, especially being on the right side.

  He spotted Trystan a half-league ahead, standing at the side of the road with several officers.

  “We’ll stop soon,” he said as Anton approached. “It’ll take hours for the Estenorians to take their positions. We’ll help Hohenwart get her guns on those hills in the meantime.”

  Trystan pointed to a hillside ahead and another to t
he left. The ground had flattened here, sloping off to the south, but low mountains rose on either side. Lennart had chosen a spot wide enough to contain his army and giving it room to maneuver, while still holding the high ground.

  “I’ll put together a detail,” Anton said, remembering his own experience hauling big guns up a hillside. Those had been Count Faris’s. That time he’d been on the right side as a horseboy, helping Count Orland fight beside King Arryk, whose life Anton had saved, getting Skandar as a reward. Braeden had assured him he’d see his old horse again soon and Anton hoped he’d stay safe during the battle.

  Trystan looked up, squinting at the sun peering through the dust. “Might as well. We have a lot of daylight left.”

  “Will we fight tomorrow, do you think?” Anton’s blood already coursed with excitement.

  Trystan smiled at him. “Only if Mattila engages. She won’t like our position, so she might try to draw us to her. Hohenwart will have guns on both sides of this valley, so walking into that won’t be fun.”

  “I hope we don’t stand around too long.” Anton pulled Storm around so he could get back to his unit. Hohenwart’s artillery was just behind them, so they’d be ready when it caught up to them. He told Karil what they were doing.

  “Thank the gods,” Karil said. “It’s been ages since I was in a real battle.”

  “Almost a whole year.” Anton agreed. Though they’d had some excitement in the meantime, nothing beat being part of a force this size, with a leader like Lennart.

  When he found Hohenwart, the general was working on a broken firing mechanism. She looked as grubby as her gun crews, a red scarf tied over her hair, sweat streaking her dirty face. In spite of all that, she was clearly in charge, and Anton even found her attractive for someone who had to be at least thirty.

  When he told her his orders, she said, “You can supervise this hillside and I’ll oversee the other. I’ll leave my colonel behind and he can help you with the placement.”