“Could she do that?” she asked. “Bring Daciana back from near death?”
Edric sighed. “I’m not sure.” Some of his composure had returned. “I’d heard rumors of such things while I studied in Cesiano. I heard that those with special abilities received training in Forli and learned to perform miracles. Later, the Scrolls made it clear that those arts were of the dark. It is our duty not only to avoid them, but to destroy those who practice them.”
“But Livilla—” Elektra began, then had to clear her throat. “But Livilla is good. She would never be involved in something like that.”
“And you know this how?” Edric’s voice hardened. “I realize that you were close to her, but a person can have more than one side. How can you be certain she practiced no dark arts in secret?”
“I’m not sure,” Elektra whispered. Then she remembered the times she worried Livilla might have betrayed her. Maybe it wasn’t that simple.
“No, you don’t. And she would have done her best to shield you from that knowledge.” Edric took the letter and laid it aside. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. This is not your fault. I’ve just seldom been so affected by the death of someone close to me.”
“You and the princess were friends?”
“Yes, and I grieve her. But the Duchess Maryna was like a daughter to me. During those terrible years of Kendryk’s captivity, teaching her and talking to her was often the only thing that kept me from despair. She had a light to her, and I had such hope that when she grew up ...” Edric’s voice broke and he looked down.
Elektra couldn’t speak. She hated seeing a strong and unshakable man brought low like this. For a moment she feared that if she spoke she might cry, and that seemed like the wrong thing. This was not her loss, but she wanted to make it right somehow. “
What can I do?” she whispered.
Edric stayed silent for a long time while she waited, fearing the answer. Finally he looked up again, his eyes hollow. “Return to your mother,” he said. “But as a Quadrene.”
“She’ll kill me.” Elektra tried to keep the tears out of her voice.
“Not if you kill her first.”
“I don’t know how to do it.” It was the same old problem. She wanted her mother dead, but realized she couldn’t do it herself.
“I don’t either.” Edric’s eyes were hard and Elektra worried appealing to his compassion right now would do no good. “But if your heart is true, the gods will give you strength, and guide your path. And imagine your mother’s pain when you return to her a devotee of the Quadrene creed, and she learns you are the instrument of her death. And if it means your death, the gods will reward your sacrifice in paradise.”
An icy fist clenched around Elektra’s heart. She’d hoped that Edric considered her a friend but he clearly didn’t. All she was to him now was a means of revenge against her mother, the woman who’d killed people he loved. Edric wanted to use her the same way Braeden had.
She stood up. “I wish to do the will of the gods,” she said, praying to the unfamiliar Ercos to give her strength right now. “But I’m not sure this is the right way. You are very upset. Perhaps we should talk of this again tomorrow.”
“You think I’ll change my mind?” Edric looked up at her, his eyes cold and terrible. He’d remained seated even as she stood.
“I don’t know. I will pray about it and hope you will too.”
Elektra turned on her heel and left the room with what she hoped was a measured pace. Once she reached the corridor and the guard was out of sight, she hurried to Raysa’s quarters.
Raysa smiled at her, holding baby Kataryna on her lap. “I wondered why you didn’t come for breakfast.”
“Help me,” Elektra gasped. “Edric Maximus has lost his mind.”
Kendryk
Kendryk rode into Kronfels at the head of five hundred of Duke Orland’s best troops. It had been a lifetime since he’d first come here, with even greater numbers, but then he’d had Gwynneth and Edric by his side.
He thanked Ercos for helping him survive all that had happened since then. Maybe Edric was right, and the gods were protecting him so he might live long enough to fulfill his destiny, whatever it was.
This time, he rode through town, glancing at the main temple with a shiver as they passed. Edric had been condemned to death here, and only survived because of Gwynneth’s insistence that Kendryk act.
He didn’t like to think about it, but he wondered how different things might be if he had let Teodora take Edric to Atlona. Would his death have unleashed the forces of darkness?
Kendryk still didn’t understand how this war fit into the prophecy in the Scrolls, but for now at least they were keeping Teodora and her corrupt faith at bay. Maybe Lennart could finish the job.
Rather than stay in the city, Kendryk rode on to Princess Viviane’s palace. The road had been hot and dusty, so he was eager to find shade and refreshment. He hoped she wouldn’t be too angry at his arrival, since he’d brought her plenty of trouble during his last visit.
The guards at the gates seemed surprised to see him, though they let him pass, along with his escort. When Kendryk arrived at the front entrance to the palace, the princess was waiting for him.
“How nice to see you,” she said, her eyes flat and unfriendly.
Kendryk swung out of the saddle and bowed over her hand. “I’m just passing through. I promise not to stay too long, or cause you too much trouble.”
He offered his most charming grin, and she seemed to soften, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“It’s true you always bring trouble, but hopefully better times are ahead.”
She looked over Kendryk’s shoulder. “You’re welcome to stay in the palace with a few of your guards, but I’m afraid the rest will have to find accommodation elsewhere.”
Kendryk hesitated. Duke Orland had told him in no uncertain terms he should never leave his full escort behind. The princess wasn’t behaving any differently than normal, so Kendryk doubted he had much to worry about. Still, Aidan Orland was more trustworthy.
“You’re very kind,” he said, “but I don’t want to put you to any trouble. If it’s all right, we’ll make camp on your parade ground.” This lay inside the walls, but at a distance from the palace. Since Kendryk didn’t plan to stay more than a day or two, the smell might not get too bad.
Princess Viviane shrugged. “Do as you wish. I still hope you’ll join me for dinner.”
Kendryk didn’t know how he’d keep all the guards around him for that, but he needed to socialize at least a bit to find out what was going on.
After setting up camp, he managed a bath and changed into his best clothes, which by now seemed rather shabby against the splendor of the palace.
Captain Merton, leading Kendryk’s personal guard, was unhappy. “We can’t let you go in there alone, Your Grace. The duke said so expressly.”
“You’re right.” Kendryk frowned. “But I can’t bring all of you in with me. Besides, even if the princess has suddenly become Teodora’s best friend, she’ll hardly murder me at dinner.”
“Teodora would,” Merton grumbled.
“True.” Kendryk smiled in spite of himself. “But while Princess Viviane is prickly, she’s always been an ally. How about this? I’ll take thirty in with me, and you keep the rest on alert. If something happens, you have my permission to storm the banquet hall.”
“Hmph,” Merton said, though he turned to give the orders.
In spite of his precautions, Kendryk felt tense as he entered the princess’s dining hall. The last time he’d been here, he’d had an unpleasant conversation with Teodora; the first of many.
But dinner turned out to be a dull, though lavish affair. Kendryk was careful not to drink too much, but the other guests all seemed lethargic from the great heat, and conversation was a trial.
The only interesting guest was an Olvisyan countess, seated across from Kendryk.
“What brings you this far north?” he a
sked.
“I have family here,” she said, her small eyes sad. “I’ve been forced to take refuge with them after the empress threatened me.”
Kendryk raised his eyebrows. “She threatened you personally?”
“Not in so many words. But she made it clear that anyone refusing to follow her latest crazed directives ought to be executed as a traitor.”
“Sounds like the empress all right.” Kendryk took a small sip of wine. Perhaps this was promising, Teodora’s own aristocracy no longer feeling safe in their country.
“How is she doing?” Not that he cared, but any information might be useful.
“Not well,” the countess said, leaning forward, keen to share gossip. “She’s been ill this past year, and she looks at least ninety.” She giggled.
“It’s hard to be evil inside without showing it on the outside, at least at some point.” Kendryk doubted anyone here would disagree with him.
The countess nodded eagerly. “That’s what my mother always said. Unfortunately, illness has done nothing to slow Teodora’s mad schemes. It seems she’s unable to stop hatching plots.”
“It’s in her nature.” Kendryk smiled. “Any plots you want to tell me about?”
The countess suddenly turned serious. “Well, as always, she wants you dead, though she hasn’t yet worked out how to do it.”
“That’s encouraging, I suppose.” Kendryk shook his head, still glad of the guards hovering just over his shoulder. Not that this woman would manage anything. She was so small.
“Princess Viviane tells me you’re not staying in the palace.” The countess tilted her head. “That’s a shame; there’s a great deal more I could tell you.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
Kendryk was mildly curious, but doubted this woman could tell him much about Teodora he didn’t know already. It was enough to hear she was unwell. He’d pray especially hard for the gods to grant her a swift and merciful death, which was rather charitable of him, considering.
Gwynneth
“I must do something,” Gwynneth said out loud to herself, sitting alone in the little room with the liquor cabinet. She’d started drinking regularly to pass the time, and to take the edge off the restlessness and anxiety that never left her. She also needed help getting to sleep, since sitting around all day did nothing to tire her out.
The days passed with excruciating languor, hot and humid, broken only by occasional thunderstorms. It didn’t matter what she’d told Braeden; she couldn’t stay here.
Devyn and Stella were a constant source of trouble, as expected. Devyn reacted angrily to Braeden’s departure, but blamed the fact he didn’t get to go along on Gwynneth. So he was much less help with the others than Gwynneth had hoped.
Rather than playing as they normally did, he and Stella squabbled constantly. Gwynneth had had to take away their practice swords so they would stop beating each other with them.
She’d taken Braeden’s advice, and had both of them watched by the quickest and youngest of the guards, but feared Devyn would outwit them sooner or later.
She needed to get away from here, and likely needed to do it with those two in tow. Andres was old enough to go with her, but she had to leave the baby here, and he’d be a responsible caretaker.
Gwynneth sat up straighter and pushed the glass of liquor away. She needed to stop letting it dull her mind.
She hated to defy Natalya again, but in all these months there hadn’t been a single message from her. Something must have gone wrong. The possibilities were unthinkable: shipwreck, treachery at the Norovaean court, or being attacked by bandits here in Galladium.
If something had happened to Maryna, it was Gwynneth’s responsibility to keep the next in line safe. Devyn would be safer with her than running off into the woods again, which she knew he would accomplish eventually.
Gwynneth stood and paced the room, feeling more energized than she had in some time. She’d have to outwit the guards, and hope they’d be unable to catch up to her while taking care of the two she’d left behind. A woman came from a nearby village every day to help with the baby, who’d just been weaned. She seemed kind and reliable.
Gwynneth sat back down and started writing. First, she wrote a letter to Natalya. The guards would give it her when she passed by here, or if she sent a messenger. She explained her concerns, the lack of news, and that Daciana Tomescu was dead.
Gwynneth shuddered, remembering that blood-drenched night—satisfaction mingled with horror as she drove the iron stake through that heart herself—her explanation to Natalya less detailed.
Braeden had seemed certain that everyone in Kronland had gone south to fight, so traveling back to Terragand via a northerly route ought to be safe enough. Gwynneth still had the money Daciana had given her in Allaux. It wasn’t much, but they would travel simply and the weather was warm. They could dispense with inns most nights.
Next, Gwynneth wrote a note to the captain of the guard, apologizing for leaving and for stealing the horses. She asked that he watch the two little ones and continue to let the village woman come. She hoped it wouldn’t be long before she’d be able to send for them.
The next morning, she called the three older children to her right after breakfast. After checking the corridor to make sure no one was listening, she closed the door and latched it from inside.
“I have a plan,” she said, “and I will need all of your help.”
Devyn perked up right away, which was encouraging since he’d been so sullen and angry since Braeden’s departure. “What are we doing? Are we leaving?”
“Yes, but please keep your voice down. The guards must have no idea.”
Now came the hard part. “The problem is, not all of you can come. Renata is too small to travel on horseback all the way back home.”
She turned to Andres. “Can you help me by staying here with the baby? I promise to come back for both of you as soon as I can. And if Natalya and Maryna return in the meantime, you can go with them.”
Andres nodded. “I can, though I want to come too.” His eyes filled with tears.
“I know. I’d rather bring you. But I need Devyn to protect me on the road, and you’re the next oldest and the most responsible.”
That was true Aside from Maryna, Andres was by far the most serious and least likely to cause trouble. She’d never have to worry about him trying to run away. It went without saying she couldn’t leave Stella here, since she would go with Devyn, no matter what.
“All right.” Andres wiped his eyes and set his jaw. “I will do my best.”
“I know you will.” Gwynneth put her arm around him and pulled him close. Then she looked at Devyn. “Do you still have Maryna’s pistols?”
Devyn nodded. “I’m getting low on shot and powder, though.”
“Can you make it to the nearest larger town? I’m not sure where we are, but we can’t be more than a day or two from Allaux. I don’t want to go back there, but I’m sure we’ll find other places we can buy supplies.”
Gwynneth had thought about stealing from the guards, but she didn’t know where they kept their extra arms. It would be bad enough, and hard enough to steal a few horses.
“I can make it all the way home if no one attacks us.” He grinned.
“I will need a sword,” Stella said.
“Maybe later,” Gwynneth said. “First we have to figure out how to steal horses and get far away before anyone notices.”
Braeden
When Braeden stopped at an inn in Kronfels, he heard Kendryk had passed two days before, at the head of a large armed party. If they weren’t in town, they were probably camped near the palace somewhere. Braeden was relieved that Kendryk was so well-guarded, and left his own escort behind.
“You stay here,” he told Trisa. “I’ll send for you if I need help.”
“I don’t like you going alone, sir.” Trisa frowned.
“I won’t be long.” Braeden promised. “I’ll just find the prince, te
ll him all is well in Galladium, then we’ll be on our way back.”
Braeden had never liked Kronfels, so he hurried to leave the city behind and headed for the palace. To his intense relief, the guards at the gates directed him straight to Kendryk’s camp on the parade ground.
He rode into camp, surprised to find it in a high state of alert. “I must see Prince Kendryk right away,” he said to the first officer he came across. “I’m Braeden Terris.”
“I know who you are.” The officer smiled, and sent a page running. “Let’s head toward his tent. He’ll want to see you right away.”
That still didn’t explain the way Kendryk ran in his direction upon seeing him.
Braeden dismounted and grinned at him. “Had a little trouble chasing you down.” Then he worried, Kendryk was so pale.
“Please tell me right away.” Kendryk’s eyes were wide and anxious. “Was Teodora telling the truth?”
Braeden shook his head. “Does she ever? But what are you talking about?” He followed Kendryk into his tent.
Kendryk pulled him inside and nearly pushed him into a chair. Braeden had never seen him so agitated.
He sat down across from Braeden and took a deep breath. “You can tell me the truth, even if it’s awful. What happened to my family?”
“It’s a long story,” Braeden said, “though they’re fine. Your wife is out of her head with boredom, and Devyn and Stella are difficult as always.”
“Oh thank the gods.” Kendryk covered his face with his hands.
“Did you hear something else?”
Kendryk dropped his hands. His eyes were damp. “I received a letter from Teodora some months ago. She said Daciana Tomescu had killed Gwynneth and the children. Everyone told me she was just trying to upset me, and we know Tomescu is dead. Still, I received no word from anyone, so I feared the worst.”
“You received no message from Natalya? She told me she’d write to you immediately.” Braeden told him what had happened in the Galladian woods.
Kendryk stared at him the whole time, his eyes wide with disbelief. When Braeden finished, he asked, “So they were all well when you left them?”
Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4) Page 14