The Maximus had been violently opposed to Lennart’s plan for Elektra, though he at least had been cooperative on the military front. He would hold Terragand if Mattila attacked, clearing Lennart’s path south.
“There is something else you could do for me while you’re here.”
Raysa looked puzzled. “I can’t imagine how I could be useful.”
Lennart stopped rocking and peered into the cradle. Kataryna was fast asleep, and stayed that way even after the the cradle stopped moving.
“Success.” Lennart’s sense of accomplishment was similar to the aftermath of a well-executed military maneuver.
“You’re better at it than anyone. The rest of us take twice as long to calm her down.”
“We understand each other.” Even though Lennart found the baby somewhat dull most of the time, her robust personality charmed him. He liked to think they were two of a kind who didn’t need words to be friends.
“I’m so glad you do. Let’s talk in the other room.” Raysa led him into the neighboring chamber, where a nurse dozed in a chair. She shook her by the shoulder and said, “We’re leaving now. Please watch the princess.”
She waited until the nurse had gone, then pulled Lennart through the next door. This was her dressing room, and though it wasn’t as grand as her suite in Tharvik, it was pleasant and comfortable enough. They had most of their intimate conversations here.
“Now,” Raysa said, once they were settled side-by-side on a cushioned bench. “What do you want me to do while I’m gone?”
“Befriend the little archduchess,” Lennart said. “The girl’s in a bit of a fix. She hates her mother and doesn’t want to return to Atlona. I’d rather not send her back, but I will if I can get good terms out of Teodora in exchange. Thing is, she has another choice.”
Raysa nodded, waiting for him to go on.
“It would be a great victory for our side if Elektra would convert to the Quadrene faith. If she did, I’d be willing to make her empress when I defeat Teodora.”
“But she’s not willing to convert.”
“No. Edric told me she’s not as fanatical as she once was, but she’s devoted to Vica and refuses to give the other gods their due.”
“I can understand that,” Raysa murmured.
“Yes, you can. And that’s why you can help. A message to Teodora is already on its way, and before I receive a response, Elektra must convert, or off to Atlona she goes.”
“But I doubt I can make her convert,” Raysa protested. “I understand so little.”
“But that’s why you can help. Talk to her, sympathize with her dilemma, since you’ve been through the same thing. I’ll convinced Edric to take a harder line with her, which will likely upset and frighten her.
“But you can be a friend, pull her in your direction a little, and Edric can do the rest. I don’t need her to turn into a militant Quadrene; I just need her to be as devout as you are.”
“Oh dear. I don’t know if this will turn out the way you hope.” Raysa looked troubled. “I’ll do as you ask, though I hope I don’t drive her farther away.”
“You won’t. She’s afraid of me, but she’ll like you very much. She knows she doesn’t have much time to decide; just make it as easy for her as possible. Edric is persuasive, but he hasn’t succeeded in all these months. And when I talked to her, she got that stubborn set to her jaw, like she’s bound to oppose me. You can show her a different way.”
“I’ll try.” Raysa smiled at him. “I hate staying behind, but I suppose this will give me something to do. And I have to admit I feel sorry for the poor girl. She’s so far from home and in such difficult circumstances. I hope she won’t mind me trying to be her friend.”
“I’m willing to bet she’ll welcome it,” Lennart said, pulling Raysa close. “I’ll miss you and the little one terribly, but I’ll send for you as soon as it’s safe. And the sooner we get the archduchess onto our side, the sooner we can tip the balance in our favor.”
Braeden
Bring another torch.” Braeden couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He didn’t want to believe it.
Now a ring of light encircled the body. Braeden knelt beside it, rolled it onto its back and held the torch close to the face.
No doubt at all. He wanted to curse, but was sure Princess Gwynneth and the children were nearby, so he did it silently, while biting his tongue.
“This,” he said, “is Daciana Tomescu.”
“You’re right.” Trisa dropped to the ground, little Duchess Stella kneeling beside her, eyes wide and fascinated.
“You saw her too.” Braeden had forgotten about that.
“A few times from a distance, though I was just a girl. That’s a face you’ll never forget.”
Braeden nodded. “I wonder how she survived. A half dozen people I trust saw her shot in the head and blown up.”
“Maybe the stories are true, and she can’t be killed.”
“She’s dead now.” Braeden rolled Daciana’s head to one side. The shot had gone into her forehead and out the back. “Unless she can live without a brain.”
“Yuck!” Stella said.
“You never know,” Trisa said.
“We’ll make sure this time.” Braeden stood, his knees creaking. Much, much too old for this. He would retire soon, maybe somewhere around here. Aside from an undead Daciana Tomescu haunting these woods, Galladium seemed like a peaceful, prosperous place.
“She’s dead, Your Grace,” he said as a dirty, bedraggled Princess Gwynneth came toward him. She looked even worse than she had the night of the fire.
“You might not want to look—”
But Gwynneth already stood above the body. “I wanted to do it,” she said. “Though it’s probably best left to a professional.”
“You won’t believe who this is.” Braeden went on to tell her.
Gwynneth’s eyes were wide and horrified. “I should have known there couldn’t be two such monstrous creatures in the world. How do we make sure she’s dead this time?”
“There are several ways. I’m sure Natalya Maxima will be displeased that we didn’t take her alive, but maybe we can soften the blow by sending the head to Allaux. Even some unholy demon will have a hard time coming back to life without a head.”
Gwynneth shuddered. “I hope you’re right.”
She grabbed Stella, still crouched beside the body, and pulled her close. “I can’t thank you enough. How did you find us?”
“Natalya told me about the lodge in case I needed to send a message. When I learned Tomescu had killed the people at a nearby mill, I worried she was still looking for you. Back at the lodge they told me which way you’d gone and then I ran into one of your guards. We still couldn’t find you until you lit those torches.”
He nodded at the captain standing nearby, looking intensely relieved. “It turned out we were closer than we realized, but we had to move fast. After you dropped the duchess, I took a shot, though it was a lucky one.”
“I’m glad you didn’t miss.”
“Me too. But if I had, the duke was ready to back me up.” Braeden turned to Devyn, standing nearby. “I’ll admit it, I wasn’t happy when he showed up, but he’s done well.”
Devyn beamed. “Might I come with you on your next mission, sir?”
“That’s for your mother to say.” Braeden reckoned that was safe enough, since he knew what the answer would be.
“Not until you’re at least fourteen,” Gwynneth said. “I’m glad you did well, but I’m sure Commander Terris will agree you need more training.”
“Yes, more training is a great idea.” Braeden shot Gwynneth a grateful glance while ignoring Devyn’s scowl.
“What happens now?” Gwynneth asked. “Have you had any word from Natalya? I have not.”
Braeden shook his head. “I was hoping you’d received a message. But now that this vermin is dead,” he delivered a kick to Tomescu’s body, “you’re safe enough.”
“I’ll return
to Allaux then,” Gwynneth said.
“I’m afraid you cannot, Your Grace,” the captain spoke up. “The Maxima gave strict orders that even once this woman was apprehended, you were to stay hidden until she returns from Norovaea.”
“I can’t stand hiding any longer.” Gwynneth gave Braeden a pleading look. “I will lose my mind if I spend another day in that hunting lodge.”
“We’ll talk about it when we get back there,” Braeden said. “Might be we can come up with something. And I need to take care of another matter before any of us sleep tonight.”
They weren’t far from the lodge and Gwynneth ordered a hasty meal served as soon as they returned. Everyone was so hungry, they fell on the food like wild animals and no one spoke for some time.
After that, Braeden needed a long drink of ale, and even that wasn’t strong enough to prepare him for what he had to do next.
He put the empty tankard down and called for another, then looked down the table at the princess. “Have you heard of the Marjatyan blood-drinkers?” he asked.
Gwynneth’s eyes grew wide and she shook her head. “I’ll send the children to bed.”
Devyn protested, but she shot him such a look he quickly left the room, dragging Stella and Andres with him.
“Good idea,” Braeden said. “It’s a fairy tale, but not a pretty one.” He took a long drink from his refilled mug. “There’s a legend in eastern Marjatya, where Daciana Tomescu comes from, that a demon sired a special race long ago. They appear and act human, but are almost immortal. It’s said they drink human blood to gain power.”
“Those fangs,” Gwynneth said.
“Yes. It’s possible she filed them down just to frighten people, but well, you saw her eyes too.”
Gwynneth shuddered. “I’ll never forget those as long as I live. And the way she moved, faster than a cat.”
Braeden nodded. “Even if she survived the explosion several years ago, she ought to have scars, both from pistol shot and fire.”
“Her skin was like a young girl’s.” Gwynneth’s hands flew to her mouth. “Do you suppose she drank blood to heal?”
“No idea,” Braeden said. “Don’t want to think about it. But there’s more to the legend. Though these blood-drinkers are hard to kill, it’s not impossible. One way is to remove the head and bury it far away from the body.”
“Sending the head to Allaux and disposing of the body here ought to take care of that.”
“I hope so. But there’s another thing we can do to be sure, though it’s barbaric and grisly.”
Gwynneth nodded, looking eager.
“Legend says you cut out the heart, drive an iron stake through it, then burn it.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Gwynneth said. “No head, no heart. Even a god would have trouble coming back to life after that. I have one request.”
Braeden worried what might come next.
“You can take the head. But let me take care of the heart.”
Teodora
Though she was improving rapidly, Teodora didn’t yet feel up to meeting with Brynhild Mattila. And she couldn’t rely on her anyway. It was time to make her own plans.
She sent for Countess Biaram one evening after dismissing everyone else. It was a cool, pleasant evening, so the doors to Teodora’s study stood open to the garden. If walking were easier, she’d have invited the countess for a stroll. Instead, she positioned herself at a small table where she could catch some of the refreshing breeze.
The countess bustled in, right on time, looking as refreshed as she had at daybreak. Even at her best, Teodora had never enjoyed that kind of energy.
“I was wondering if you were in the mood for an adventure,” Teodora said without preamble.
“Always.” The countess smiled. “It’s been months since I’ve been able to leave Atlona. What do you have in mind, Your Highness?”
“A mission to Kronland.” Teodora offered a mysterious smile.
“Anywhere in particular?”
“I thought you might start with Lantura, and work your way north. I believe a few of the rulers are less than enthusiastic in their support of Lennart. It’s possible we can sway them to our cause with enough incentive.”
The countess cocked her head. “Money?”
“I’d rather not.” Teodora winced, recalling the unpleasant review of treasury records earlier in the day. Her new military project was turning expensive, even though she was trying to economize.
“I was thinking something more like territorial expansion.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Teodora rolled a map out onto the table between them. She placed the small lamp already on the table in the map’s center.
“Besides Terragand, four kingdoms have thrown themselves whole-heartedly on Lennart’s side, at least as far as I can tell. Helvundala and Oltena are ruled by Kendryk’s aunts, so I won’t bother trying to persuade them otherwise. Ummarvik and Podoska have also offered plenty of help. Once I’ve defeated Lennart, I intend to punish all of them.”
“By carving them up?” The countess bent over the map.
“Yes.” Teodora pointed at Lantura. “If Prince Eldrid can be persuaded to see things our way, he could stand to gain a large chunk of Podoska. I’m sure he’d like that.”
The countess smiled. “The Martineks won’t.”
“There won’t be any Martineks when I’m through with them.”
“And Isenwald? I suppose Princess Viviane wouldn’t mind acquiring a bit of Oltena.”
“I’ll give her more than a bit if she cooperates. And some of Terragand too. By the time this is over, there will be no Terragand. In fact, I hope to eliminate all of the kingdoms who’ve supported Lennart and give their lands to those who are loyal to me.”
“You can hardly call Lantura and Isenwald loyal,” the countess said with a grin.
“They were pressured,” Teodora said. “I understand. It’s hard to say no to someone like Lennart, I’m sure. I’ve heard he’s charming.”
“Not to mention weighed down with Galladian coin,” the countess added.
“Exactly.” Teodora chuckled. “We all know how hard it is to raise funds, so I don’t blame anyone for trying to replenish their war-depleted treasuries. Besides, this year will be the first good harvest for some of these lands in the past several years. I understand why they might have given in.”
“So you’re willing to forgive a moment of weakness. In writing?”
“If I must, though I’d prefer to keep all of this quiet as long as possible.”
“It will be difficult to persuade some of these people with my words alone.”
Teodora frowned and pondered for a moment. “How about this? I’ll authorize you to offer in writing a pardon and certain guarantees of territory once the war is over. I’ll send along a document making clear your signature is as good as mine.”
Teodora held her breath, but the countess seemed nearly overcome by the implicit distinction.
The countess put her hand over her heart and blinked. “I’m so honored, Your Highness.” Her voice was husky, as if she were about to cry.
“Well, you’ve earned it.” Teodora offered a warm half-smile—the best she could manage these days—relieved that the countess didn’t seem worried at the possibility of being sacrificed if things went awry.
Teodora leaned forward and dropped her voice. “There’s another thing. In exchange for agreeing to my terms, I’ll have a list of people I will expect my new allies to hunt down, should they enter their territory.”
“Brilliant, Your Highness. I assume we’ll be keeping any agreements quiet for the time being, in which case Kendryk, Lennart and their allies will no doubt come and go as they please.”
“Exactly.” Teodora allowed herself a moment of cautious triumph. “I will expect any rebel, no matter how highly ranked, to be dealt with harshly by my new friends.”
“How harshly?”
Teodora settled back in her chair. “
Let’s just say I’ll be extremely grateful should someone like Lennart, Kendryk or Braeden Terris meet with a fatal accident.”
Maryna
Maryna didn’t sleep the rest of that night, and neither did anyone else.
Uncle Arryk ordered Magnus put in his own bed with its gilt-edged fur coverings and heavy brocaded canopy until he recovered, since he was such a hero.
Natalya had gone to the dungeon, so Maryna stayed with the king, keeping watch over Magnus.
“He saved my life too,” the king said. “During the shipwreck when I first came to Terragand.”
“I’m not surprised,” Maryna said. “He’s so brave.”
A few tears leaked from her eyes, and she didn’t bother hiding them. Now that the shock of the attack had worn off, her bandaged neck hurt and she felt weak and shaky.
Uncle Arryk ordered her to eat some of the fruit piled on the table in his room. He’d also had a servant bring hot chocolate, which went down easier than anything else.
“You needn’t be frightened anymore,” Uncle Arryk said. “I’m sure Natalya will find out who’s involved and it will all be over soon.”
“It’s not that.” Maryna tried to stop the tears, but now they came all the faster. “I’m just so worried about Magnus—I mean, Count Torsen. I couldn’t forgive myself if he dies because he saved me.”
“He won’t die.” Uncle Arryk smiled gently. “You like him, don’t you? I don’t blame you. He’s the finest man I know. If it were up to me, I’d arrange a marriage between the two of you.”
Maryna thought he was joking, but she couldn’t keep her face from lighting up, then blushed.
“Oh, I see.” The king’s smile faded. “You’re still much too young, of course. But when all of this is over, I plan to make Magnus a duke. He’ll be one of the most important people in Norovaea. Maybe someday...”
Maryna shook her head, forcing herself to think like the future ruler of Terragand. “It’s a nice thought, but my parents would never approve. A duke would be good enough, but he’d have to be a real one.”
Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4) Page 8