Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4)

by Christina Ochs

  There was no question the effect was striking, and even though some of the powdered court ladies also wore black on this day, none of their gowns were as fine. Faded copies, nothing more.

  Her confidence restored, Teodora waited for her guest. Mattila had sent no word, but Teodora had scouts in Kronland track all of her movements for the past months.

  The general had taken her time, but finally crossed the Galwend mountains at the height of summer. The bulk of her force remained in Tirilis, which was where Teodora needed them, should her own plan fail.

  A few lowlier petitioners were quickly disposed of, and then Mattila appeared, flanked by a dozen elaborately costumed officers. As always, she wore plain garb, her hair a shade grayer than before, her skin at least as lined as Teodora’s, though her lanky frame remained trim and unbent.

  “Your Highness.” She bowed correctly, her eyes never leaving Teodora’s.

  “General. Thank you for coming. I hope you and your escort will be my guests.” Teodora planned to overwhelm them in comforts. There was little chance of softening up Mattila herself, but perhaps her advisers could be swayed by a little low-key bribery.

  “That’s kind.” Mattila quirked a smile. “And convenient, as I imagine we have much to discuss.”

  “We do, but you must be tired from your journey. I’ll see you at dinner tonight, which will be held in your honor.”

  For one awful moment Teodora feared Mattila would laugh out loud, but she merely chuckled to herself, and inclined her head before leaving with her entourage.

  Teodora took a deep breath before dismissing the court. For all her renewed strength, she still tired easily and would need every last bit of stamina for the coming negotiations.

  To make it clear she was far from desperate, Teodora wasted a few days feasting Mattila and her cronies while providing them with frivolous entertainments of the kind she knew Mattila hated.

  By the end of the second day, the general’s face took on a pained expression whenever the next troupe of acrobats, sword-swallowers or illusionists were announced. Teodora was bored out of her mind, but enjoyed watching Mattila squirm.

  On the fourth day, Teodora sent for the general and asked only for the company of Livilla and Count Solteszy.

  “These are my most trusted advisers,” she said. “You can speak frankly in front of them.” As if the woman ever did anything else.

  “Good.” Mattila seated herself. She’d brought a few of her own people, including a secretary who scribbled in a little book.

  “I won’t waste your time with small talk. Lennart is on his way to Lantura and will overrun Tirilis within two months at most. He’ll cross the Galwend pass during autumn and be at your gates soon after. How do you propose to stop him?”

  “I don’t expect Lennart to take Tirilis before winter.” It took effort for Teodora not to smile, since it seemed Mattila wasn’t aware of any changes in Tirilis.

  Mattila raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve convinced Prince Herryk to support you, the poor fellow. I hope you made him some pretty promises to soften the pain of Lennart tramping all over his lands.”

  “I’ve done better. Bosek Komary is marching up from Cesiano as we speak, with a large army at his back. I’ve entrusted him with the defense of the Tirilis capital. In your professional opinion, do you think fifteen thousand troops are enough to prevent Lennart from taking it?”

  “Komary?” A slight flush crept up Mattila’s neck. “I’ve been trying to recruit him, and wondered why I never received a response. Well done.” Her tone was far from gracious.

  “I had no idea. He must have received my offer first.” Teodora shrugged as if she hadn’t gone to great lengths to find out who Mattila was trying to recruit, and making sure she outbid her, even if she didn’t know how to pay for it yet.

  “Komary and his army ought to reach Tirilis well before Lennart does. He’ll have plenty of time to fortify the capital of Richenbruck and its fortress.”

  “I imagine he will, but don’t underestimate Lennart. I won’t be the least bit surprised if he finds a way around, or through.”

  Now Teodora laughed. “Impossible. The fortress has never been taken. Lennart will have to fall back into Lantura for the winter.”

  “That’s rather optimistic, but believe it if you must. So if Komary is the answer to all of your prayers, what do you need me for?”

  Anton

  Anton rode east at the head of his own company of troops, happier than he had been in a long time. When Kendryk had first explained the change in plans to him, he’d been upset, since he was looking forward to an adventure in Galladium and hopefully seeing his friends again. But what Kendryk proposed was much better.

  “I’m giving you your commission right now, Lieutenant Kronek,” he’d said with a smile, handing Anton a heavy purse. “Here is an advance on your first three months’ pay. You’ll need it to buy armor and equipment.”

  Anton had nearly fallen over with joy, but there was better to come. Before he could order a suit of armor and weapons, he was called to Duke Orland.

  “I know who you are,” the stern old man said. “And I appreciate your loyalty to my son. He was a real scoundrel, but I like to think he lived by his own code of honor.”

  “He did.” Anton was eager to reassure the duke. He’d always felt bad for the count that he and his father hadn’t gotten along. It made him a little happier to think the count had been appreciated after all. “He was a brave man, and I would have followed him anywhere.” He got a lump in his throat then, thinking of how the count and Cid had died.

  “Yes, Prince Kendryk has told me how loyal you were, and I wish to reward that. The prince said you’ve just received your commission as a cavalry officer, but don’t yet have your own horse.”

  “I don’t.” Anton had hoped the money in the purse would be enough for a mount of at least middling quality.

  “Then I will make you a present,” the duke said. “Come with me to the stables. I have several young chargers, sired by my best battle mounts. You will pick the one you prefer.”

  Anton thought he might explode with happiness, and struggled to keep his face straight as he followed the duke to the stables. There he was handed over to the head groom.

  “Lieutenant Kronek is to have his pick of the two-year-olds,” the duke said. “They’re only partly trained, but I’ll supply you with a saddle and anything else you need.”

  “I trained my last horse,” Anton said. “I like doing it.”

  “Good.” The duke looked at Anton almost approvingly, and left before he could say thank you.

  Anton followed the groom into the sudden gloom of the stable, though his eyes adjusted soon enough. He breathed in the smell of hay, manure and horse, realizing he’d missed it terribly.

  Anton resolved to choose the horse that most reminded him of Skandar, so shook his head when presented with a roan, then a spotted brown. He hesitated in front of the glossy Zastwarian stallion, but decided it was too short for him. The next was a dappled gray, which was closest in color to Skandar, but it snorted and turned away when Anton approached.

  “Not the right one,” he said to the groom with a grin, resolving to choose the roan if the last horse didn’t suit.

  “This is Storm.” The groom opened the stall door.

  Anton looked up at a tall, black stallion with a white star. Storm looked straight at him and nickered. Anton stroked his nose, ran his hands over his shoulders and his shiny flanks.

  “He’s beautiful,” he said, even though he looked nothing like Skandar.

  “A fine fellow.” The groom looked as pleased as if Storm were his own child. “On the temperamental side, but if you know what you’re doing, there’s none better in a fight.”

  “I know what I’m doing.” Anton rested his cheek against Storm’s side, listening to his steady, even breathing and the gentle thump of his heart. “This is the one.”

  He spent another half hour picking out a fine saddle and t
rappings from the duke’s own collection and helped the groom saddle Storm up.

  They only had time for a short ride, but Anton nearly cried when he felt the flowing muscles under his legs, and Storm’s instant response to his commands. He was so unlike the cob he’d been riding they might have been a different species.

  Now he rode east again because Kendryk was sending Anton off to Podoska or Oltena or wherever Lennart was.

  “Deliver this message in person,” he said, putting a pouch in Anton’s hand. “He might be angry with me, and maybe with you too, but apologize as much as you need to, and promise to behave no matter what.

  “I want Tora Isenberg’s army to come out here and take on these marauders, but if he won’t send her, I’ll take anyone. Just don’t tell him that right away. We’ll need at least ten thousand to do a good job of it.”

  “Should I come back here with Isenberg?” Anton asked.

  “I don’t know. Even though you’re formally under my command, do what Lennart tells you to. He may well find another job for you.”

  He gave Anton his hand. “Thank you for helping me. I doubt I would have had the courage to go this far without your support.”

  “Thank you,” Anton said, thinking of the heavy purse in his splendid saddlebags on his splendid mount, of his freedom after the battle, and the fine resting place for Susanna and the baby.

  Kendryk swung into the saddle, preparing to go the opposite direction at the head of a large escort. “Gods willing, we’ll see each other again soon.”

  Anton mounted Storm, then turned to watch as Kendryk rode under the arch of the castle gate and down the road. “Gods willing,” he murmured, patting Storm’s neck.

  Teodora

  “It’s not enough to keep Lennart out of Olvisya,” Teodora told Mattila. Now they were getting to the heart of the matter. “I want him defeated. And this time, it’s not enough to drive him back into his wasteland of a kingdom. I want him dead, his armies destroyed.”

  “That’s wise.” Mattila nodded, and thankfully, didn’t bring up the unfinished business of Norovaea. “In spite of our earlier misunderstanding, I’d be willing to work for you again, assuming we can come to acceptable terms.”

  “That might be a problem,” Teodora said. “I wish to get rid of Lennart, but not at an unreasonable cost.”

  Mattila raised an eyebrow. “I have a feeling my idea of acceptable cost will differ from yours. Let me be plain. I will accept no less than what I started with last time we made an agreement. That includes supreme command over all imperial armies, including Komary’s.”

  “Hm.” Teodora was not agreeing to the slightest thing until Mattila had laid out all her demands. Then she could start chipping away.

  “I’ve already absorbed what’s left of my original army after Ensden botched it at Kaltental,” Mattila continued.

  “Indeed?” Teodora didn’t know how many of those troops remained, but she considered any remnants hers, since Ensden had been in her employ.

  Mattila snorted, then said, “That includes Dura’s Cuirassiers.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that unit.”

  “It’s what’s left of the Sanova Hussars. Their leader retired rather than fight for you. Ensden promoted a Franca Dura to their head and she rebuilt them as cuirassiers.

  “They crushed Karolyna Martinek at Kaltental, though Ensden wasn’t able to follow up. Fortunately, Dura and most of her troops escaped and joined me in Brandana.”

  “How nice for you.” Teodora didn’t much care. The Sanova Hussars had been a problem for years now, and this Franca Dura was no doubt as troublesome as the rest. “What else do you want?”

  “The throne of Brandana.”

  “You know that’s impossible.” So much for waiting until the list was completed. Still, Teodora couldn’t do a thing about it and Mattila must know it.

  “It’s not impossible. Lennart promised it if I joined him.”

  “If he had, you’d be with him now.” Fear clutched at Teodora’s heart. No matter what, she had to at least keep Mattila from linking up with Lennart.

  If those two joined forces, Teodora would be able to count the remaining days of her life on the fingers of one hand. She prayed she’d been correct in assuming Mattila had a heart, or her trump card would be worthless.

  Mattila’s face was expressionless. “It’s true that Lennart’s promises remain empty at this point. You are in a far better position to manage it.”

  “Hardly. Deposing the current ruler of Brandana and putting you in her place would require a change to the imperial code. The other rulers would never stand for it.”

  “You deposed Kendryk and they stood for it.”

  “Only for awhile. Most of them now march with Lennart. And I only replaced him with a family member.”

  Much as Teodora would have liked to replace a half-dozen trouble-making Kronland rulers, it was far easier said than done. The founders of the empire had laid out an elaborate list of rights given to the twelve Kronland families. While individual rulers might be overthrown from time to time—it was always by family members—no outsider had ever succeeded one of them.

  A change to those rights would require a congress in Kaleva in which all the rulers of the empire appeared personally to vote. Such a meeting had only taken place twice before in the past five hundred years, and neither one had succeeded in making any changes.

  “I’ll marry into one of those families,” Mattila said.

  “You have a husband. And a child.” Teodora couldn’t resist adding

  “I’ve already written to my husband, and I’m sure he’ll agree if I pay him off. The Maxima can grant me a divorce, certainly.” Mattila nodded in Livilla’s direction.

  “Unlikely,” Livilla said, looking stern.

  Mattila chuckled. “All of these obstacles can be overcome if you wish. You just need sufficient incentive and you’ll find a way.”

  “There is no way,” Teodora said. “Congresses don’t work, and if I act without calling one I’ll have a full revolt on my hands.”

  “I doubt it. You’ve intimidated Moralta and Marjatya, and your own aristocracy. You do as you please in everything else. Why not this?”

  Because it’s you. The words nearly came out, but Teodora bit her tongue. She had vowed to not make this personal, because if she did, she’d be tempted to murder Mattila right here.

  So instead, she smiled an artificially sweet smile and said, “Because what you are offering is not worth the loss of my throne.”

  Mattila stood. “You’d better think about that again. If I move my armies aside and Lennart takes your throne, you will have lost it anyway.”

  Teodora sat back, hoping she appeared more relaxed than she felt. “I doubt very much that Lennart will get past Bosek Komary before winter. And in the meantime, I have more troops coming. I would like to include you in my alliance, but I don’t need you.”

  She rolled the dice. “I’d be willing to offer you supreme command over all of my armies, and I’ll even throw in a percentage of tax revenue from areas you conquer. We can negotiate that later. But I refuse to give you Brandana, not because I don’t want to, but because it’s not possible.”

  Teodora stood and faced her across the broad expanse of table. “That’s my final offer.”

  Mattila leaned on the tall back of her chair. “Not good enough. Are you sure you won’t reconsider? I’d hate for you to lose everything if I go over to Lennart. It will be an easy matter to march north to meet him, not in battle, but as an ally.”

  “You won’t do that.” Teodora smiled.

  “You can’t stop me.”

  “I can.” Teodora nodded to the guard at the door. “Bring the hostage.”

  Maryna

  Maryna was glad to leave Arenberg and continue to her next adventure. After the beheadings, things were tense between Uncle Arryk and Natalya.

  But Natalya wouldn’t leave until she’d received a message she’d been waiting f
or. It finally arrived near midsummer. She called Maryna to her after reading it.

  “Your family is safe,” she said, “and Fernanda has been caught and killed. What’s interesting is that her name isn’t Fernanda at all. She was Daciana Tomescu, whom everyone thought was dead.”

  “But she really is dead now?” It seemed best to be cautious since everyone had been wrong the first time.

  “As dead as Braeden Terris and your mother could make her.” Natalya looked amused.

  “My mother killed her?”

  “Not exactly, though she helped Braeden. You must ask her about it when you see her again.”

  Then Maryna realized. “Does this mean we can go home now? You can return to Allaux, and my family and I can go back to Terragand?”

  Natalya shook her head, sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry darling, but not yet. We must leave here, but then we will sail to Olvisya to talk to Teodora. I think it’s best if you come with me.”

  “You want me to meet Teodora?” That didn’t sound like something Maryna wanted to do.

  “We’ll work out the details on the way. It will be a long sea voyage—at least a month—and we’ll stop in a Galladian port to pick up a package.”

  Maryna like traveling by ship and she couldn’t deny she wanted to see Atlona and maybe meet Teodora, even if it was frightening. But she worried about her family, since she hadn’t heard from them. Natalya had told her it was best her mother not write to anyone, in case her letters fall into the wrong hands.

  “I wish I knew Devyn was all right,” she told Natalya as they got ready to leave.

  “Oh, he is.” Natalya turned to her and smiled before getting into the carriage bearing them to the harbor. “I forgot to tell you, but he was with Braeden for a while, and now he’s back with your mother.”

  “Oh good. Though Devyn will hate that. I’m sure he’d rather stay with Braeden.”

  “I’m sure he would.” Natalya settled into the carriage and waited until Maryna had climbed in, the door shutting behind her. “But they must stay hidden a while longer; at least until you’ve met Teodora.”