“They were,” Braeden said. “Though I don’t know about your eldest. She’d gone to Norovaea with Natalya, and as far as I know, they haven’t yet returned.”
“I can’t imagine what’s going on there. No doubt Natalya’s message to me was lost. But I’m sure she’ll take good care of Maryna. Can you take me to them?”
“If you like,” Braeden said. “I promised the princess I’d return as soon as I’d found you. I didn’t know if you’d be able to come along.”
“I really shouldn’t.” Kendryk could finally manage a smile. “I told Lennart I’d round up more allies and troops here in western Kronland, though it’s hard for me to concentrate right now.”
Braeden frowned. “Why are you here then? Princess Viviane is already an ally.”
“I spent time with Duke Orland, and he seemed worried about her loyalty. So I thought I’d look in on her, make sure nothing bad is going on, perhaps ask her to raise more troops for Lennart.”
“Will she?”
“She’s been noncommittal.” Kendryk shook his head. “Maybe you should talk to her.”
“I can,” Braeden said, “though I’m no diplomat.”
“Perhaps that’s what’s needed.” Kendryk grinned. He leaned forward and clapped Braeden on the shoulder. “I have news for you too. You wouldn’t believe who I found amongst the enemy prisoners after the battle.”
Braeden stared, hardly daring to hope.
Kendryk’s smile broadened. “Anton, of course. Alive and well, and very unhappy to be fighting for Teodora.”
A rush of emotion overwhelmed Braeden. He couldn’t speak for a moment, then asked, “He isn’t here by any chance?”
“No, unfortunately. I sent him off to deliver a message from me to Lennart. I imagine he ought to have found him by now.”
“But he’s all right.” Braeden slumped in his chair, though he couldn’t keep the smile from his face.
Kendryk turned serious. “He had a rather tragic setback.” And he told Braeden about a young woman who died while having Anton’s baby. “He took it hard. I felt awful for him, but he refused to talk about it and developed a rather alarming drinking habit.”
Braeden shook his head, unable to process the information. A girl, a baby, a drinking problem. “But he’s only a boy,” he finally choked out.
Kendryk’s eyes were grave. “Not anymore. He’s sixteen, tall and strong as any man. You’ll be amazed when you see him. A good fighter, and smart too. He saved my skin when we were attacked in Terragand recently.”
Braeden sat up straighter. “Who attacked you?”
“I’m not sure. Everyone seemed to think they were Mattila’s troops, though she’s down south with the bulk of her army. We don’t have proof either way, but there’s no doubt they were after me.”
“I don’t like it one bit,” Braeden said. “Not any of it. I want to get you out of here as soon as possible. I’ll talk to Princess Viviane if you like, but then we’ll make for Galladium without delay.”
Maryna
Wearing a shirt and breeches, barefoot like the rest of the crew, Maryna sat cross-legged on the Lyra’s deck. Dolf, an old sailor and good friend, showed her how to knot ropes in all the different ways.
She huffed in frustration. “It looks so simple.”
“It is, Your Grace.” Dolf smiled down at her. With his gray hair and bright blue eyes sparkling out of a deeply lined face, Maryna imagined he looked like her Terragand grandfather, who’d died long before she was born. “You’ll get the hang of it soon.”
She shook her head and started over, trying not to lose patience.
After their stop in Sarcy, the Lyra sailed out to sea. Because of the trouble with Maladena, Natalya had ordered the captain to sail as far to the west as he could before heading back north and east toward Cesiano. It would add weeks to the voyage, but it wouldn’t do to be caught by the Maladene navy, and Lyra’s captain agreed.
Even though she saw nothing but ocean most days, Maryna loved it out here on the open sea, the wind in her face as the Lyra sped west with favorable winds.
“Even if the Maladenes catch sight of us,” the captain said, “my girl can outrun all but the fastest frigates.”
Maryna didn’t ask what would happen if one of the fastest frigates saw them. Nothing too awful, hopefully, even if they were at war. Both she and Natalya were important enough to be considered valuable hostages, though being a prisoner didn’t sound like much fun.
Even though her father never told her anything about his captivity in the Arnfels, except for a few funny stories involving Karil, Maryna knew it must have been awful. But he’d been brave enough to endure it, and she hoped she would be too, if it came to that.
The days passed pleasantly, and Maryna turned as brown as some of the crew members.
“The Maladenes will think you’re one of them,” Natalya teased. She always wore a big hat to keep the sun off her face, and her skin remained as white as ever.
But Maryna loved feeling the wind in her hair, and thought she looked rather striking, her hair bleached nearly white by the sun, her eyes pale in her tanned face.
The only bad thing about this trip was that it would end with a visit to Teodora. Even though Natalya seemed convinced it would all go splendidly, Maryna wasn’t so sure. It all seemed very risky, and she didn’t want to have to fight for her life again.
Once she returned to her father she resolved to ask him if she might begin her military training straight away. Even though she wasn’t cut out to be a warrior like Devyn and Stella were, she needed to learn to take care of herself. Besides,she must ride at the head of Terragand’s army when she became princess someday.
Learning to shoot pistols had been a good start, but she must be able to fight with a blade as well. She’d been lucky in the last assassination attempt, but next time, Magnus wouldn’t be there to rescue her.
Maryna kept working on her knot, and nearly had it, when a shout came from above her head.
“Sail to starboard.”
They hadn’t seen so much as a fishing boat since they left the Galladian coast, so Maryna dropped the rope and hurried to the starboard rail with Dolf. Everyone not on duty gathered there, staring intently off to the west.
Maryna had to squint to make out a tiny patch of white on the horizon—her eyes weren’t as good as the lookout’s.
“Is it Maladene?” She looked up at Dolf anxiously.
He was squinting. “Too soon to say.” He patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Your Grace. If they’re enemy, Lyra will outrun them.”
After staring for so long her eyes hurt, Maryna headed for the quarterdeck to see if the captain knew more.
Natalya was already there, looking through a long glass, which she handed back to the captain when Maryna came up beside her.
“Can you see a flag?” Maryna asked.
“Not yet,” Natalya said. “If they’re flying one at all. Some captains like to pull a dirty trick. They’ll get within firing range, then run up their flag at the last minute.”
“They won’t get that close, Your Holiness,” the captain said, then shouted orders to run at full sail.
But even with that, the other ship came closer, though it took a long time. The captain still didn’t seem worried. “We’ll lose them in the dark,” he said, though it was still hours until sundown.
“We’re flying a Norovaean flag,” Maryna said. “Surely, even if Maladena is at war with Galladium, they won’t think we’re the enemy.”
“Hopefully not,” Natalya said, though her eyes were serious.
It wasn’t yet suppertime, and the other ship had come close enough that Maryna could see all of its sails. It must have been built much like the Lyra, to be so fast.
“I’m going to order battle stations,” the captain said to Natalya, his voice low, though Maryna heard. “Just to be safe. Best you go below and stay there until I send someone for you.”
Maryna opened her mouth to protest, but N
atalya took her by the arm and steered her toward the nearest hatch.
“It likely won’t come to anything,” she said softly in Maryna’s ear. “But all the same, you must change into your nicest dress.”
“But it’s so hot ...” Maryna began. Below deck on a warm day like today, it was almost unbearably stuffy.
“It doesn’t matter,” Natalya said, steel in her voice. “If we’re caught, you must look like a princess, not some sailor’s brat. We’ll have to do something about your hair too.”
Maryna couldn’t believe it. Not only was she about to miss out on a naval battle, she would be having her hair done while it was happening. “I don’t—”
“Shut up.” Natalya snapped, shoving Maryna toward the hatch, as she looked over her shoulder, out to sea.
Maryna squeaked in shock. Natalya had never spoken to her like that. But she turned to climb down the ladder, looking up at Natalya as she went down.
Natalya stared at her, her face white, her eyes wide. “Hurry now,” she said. “Change your clothes as quickly as you can. If I’m not mistaken, those are pirates.”
Teodora
“It’s not possible that someone could intercept all of my letters.” Teodora fretted. “But how can I not hear from anyone about anything in such a long time?”
She had joined Livilla for a rare walk in the garden, while it was cool, just after sunrise. Walking was still a trial, but Teodora was certain she would get better at it, the more she did it. And this was one of the few times she was safe from ridiculing, pitying eyes.
“There are many armies in the field once again,” Livilla said, drawing her cloak around her with a shiver. “That can make it difficult for messengers to get through.”
“But I’ve never had this problem before. I don’t expect Daciana to write, but I have a dozen people in Arenberg, most of them literate. Surely a few of their messages would reach me?”
“Perhaps.” Livilla paused at the end of a path, and turned to look at Teodora. “It’s also possible they’ve been thwarted.”
“By Arryk? That’s ludicrous. Even if he uncovered a plot, he wouldn’t know what to do about it.”
“He has advisers who might.”
“His best and closest advisers have been subverted. That much I know. Oh, it’s frustrating.” Teodora took Livilla’s arm and continued down the path. “Daciana should be here by now, and I haven’t heard from Elektra either. Nothing more from Lennart or from Mattila.”
“Elektra may not have a way to send messages to you. While Lennart said she could write, she’s still being held by Edric Landrus, who might prevent it.”
“Maybe.” Teodora worried about Elektra the least, but even more, hated not knowing what was going on. “Why hasn’t Lennart replied to my counteroffer? I can’t believe he invaded Tirilis while we were negotiating. It’s so rude.” Maybe that was the crux of the matter; Teodora wasn’t getting the respect she deserved from anyone.
Livilla chuckled. “It’s rude, but understandable. Before reaching an agreement with you, Lennart wants to hold as much territory as possible. That way he has a great deal to give you by way of compromise.”
“But none of it’s his.” Teodora exploded. “He has no right to be in Kronland, and he’s only received support because the rulers fear him.” Perhaps it was also because they hated her, but Teodora didn’t want to dwell on that.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s taken it, and they’re putting up with him. Your best hope is that Bosek Komary stops him. That’ll turn him polite more quickly than anything.”
“I hope you’re right,” Teodora grumbled. “Komary must succeed.”
She had wished at the least, Mattila would put her forces in Lennart’s way, but after angrily departing Atlona, Mattila returned to her armies in Tirilis, and sat sulking in the foothills, well south of Lennart and Richenbruck. The most Teodora had got out of her was a promise not to go over to Lennart, in case Teodora took young Jozef’s head.
“I’d hoped Jozef Mattila would be a more useful hostage,” Livilla said. “I was sure we could force Mattila to work for you under your conditions, but though she clearly loves her son, she’s also very tough.”
“She’s a horrible mother,” Teodora said. “What kind of monster doesn’t blink when you throw their only child in the Arnfels?”
She might have threatened to kill Jozef, but needed him alive as insurance against treason. Mattila seemed willing to put up with everything short of her son’s death. As a result, young Jozef had spent a night in the dungeon, though Teodora let him back out after his mother left in a huff. She, of course, didn’t need to know that.
“With any luck, you won’t need her,” Livilla said as they completed their circle in the garden and reached the outside door to Teodora’s study. “If Komary stops Lennart, you’ll have all winter to gather your own armies. Then you can order Mattila back to Moralta.”
“She won’t do it.” Secretly, Teodora had already been looking into what it would take to change the imperial code. At this point, she was willing to give up Brandana to get Mattila out of her hair. And once Daciana returned,she might finally let her do what she’d wanted to all along.
Lennart
“Your Highness, bad news from Tirilis,” Trystan Martinek said, walking into Lennart’s study without ceremony and slumping into a chair.
He looked tired, though Lennart didn’t know why. They’d done nothing but feast and hunt here at Prince Eldrid’s castle while he tried to stall Lennart until after the harvest.
Lennart was sick of it, and ready to move on. The suspicious Countess Biaram had gone in a huff to parts unknown. If she had managed to subvert Prince Eldrid, the two of them were better actors than Lennart gave them credit for.
“How bad? Is it Mattila?” They knew Mattila was in Atlona, so it was possible she’d had time to march into Tirilis providing she and Teodora reached a speedy agreement.
Trystan shook his head. “Not that bad. But Prince Herryk has publicly decided for Teodora. He’s hired Bosek Komary, who was at loose ends in Cesiano after the truce. He’s already arrived with fifteen thousand troops.”
Lennart swore. He’d hoped to persuade Prince Herryk to his side before Teodora got to him. “She must have thrown money at him. But we can handle that many, even though Komary is good.”
“Yes, and that’s the problem.” Trystan looked around. “Do you have a map handy?”
Lennart rummaged on his desk and didn’t find one. “On the table over there.”
He and Trystan walked over to the table under the window and found one that Lennart hadn’t scribbled all over.
Trystan’s finger slid to the circle that represented Richenbruck, Prince Herryk’s capital. “We have to cross the river here if we want to get to Atlona before the first snow falls in the mountains. There’s only one way around, but it’s long and the terrain is bad. We’d never make the passes in time.”
“So Komary will throw everything he has at defending that bridge.”
Trystan nodded. “That bridge has never been taken. And that’s because the approach is guarded by the Obenstein, a huge fortress on the hill beside it, which has never been taken either. I haven’t seen it myself, but I’ve heard the stories.”
“A tough nut to crack, in other words.” Lennart leaned his hands on the table, staring at the river on the map, the city beside it and the hills just to the north.
Generally, he liked tough nuts and if he broke through here, it would be another famous victory. Maybe even worth giving up the prospect of besieging Atlona before winter.
He didn’t want to give Mattila time to build up her strength, but she was more likely to deplete it in the winter. Unlike Mattila, Lennart could scatter his troops all over Kronland if he needed to while they waited for the Galwend passes to clear.
“Tough, but we can do it,” Trystan said.
Lennart grinned at him. “That’s the spirit. We’ll take all of it; the fortress, the bridge, the city. That�
��ll shake up the witch on her throne in Atlona.”
“If we go now, we might have a chance of doing that, and getting over the mountains in time.” Trystan was likely more bored than he was at this point.
Lennart stood up straight. “I agree. I’m tired of waiting for the old prince. Let him get his harvest. We’ll eat it if we’re stuck here through the winter. Give the order; we march out in two days.”
Now there was a prospect of action, Lennart felt ready to leave that moment, though he ought to catch up on writing letters before going back on the march. A large packet from Heidenhof awaited his reply.
With Trystan gone, he turned to the top one from Raysa. Dated two weeks before, it contained a lengthy description of Kataryna’s first words, not yet intelligible in any language he understood, though Raysa knew they meant something.
Lennart chuckled and reached for the next one, then stopped short and read again from the top. Between the two of them, it seemed Raysa and Edric had gotten Elektra to convert.
Lennart had to stop reading for a while after that while he pondered the possibilities. He decided to let the negotiations with Teodora play out for the time being. If he took Richenbruck and sat on her doorstep, she might become far more accommodating.
And with Elektra on his side, he could save that as a blow to deliver at the last. If he stood at the gates of Atlona, Teodora’s heir his willing ally, who knew how her subjects might react. Why fight the overwhelming force of the foreign invader if a better Inferrara stood ready to take over? Lennart couldn’t imagine Teodora being very popular.
He wondered if he should send for Elektra now. She was willing enough to talk with him; her only stubbornness had been on the religious issue, and that had been overcome. He was certain Raysa had more to do with this than she’d admitted with her characteristic modesty.
Before he left Prince Eldrid, Lennart decided to ask his court jeweler to commission something pretty for the queen by way of expressing his appreciation, since he wasn’t able to do it in person just yet.
Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4) Page 15