Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4)

by Christina Ochs

  “You’re not a ruler. You’re a foreigner.” The princess made her disdain so clear, Gwynneth wondered how she’d missed her obvious hatred for so long.

  “I’m a ruler,” Devyn piped up, for which Gwynneth was grateful, “And you’re being most offensive, Princess. I believe I want to destroy her horrid palace, Mother.”

  His voice carried on the wind, and the princess flinched.

  “I doubt I’ll be able to stop Prince Devyn, once he’s in a temper,” Gwynneth said with a sweet smile.

  “You’ll never get away with this.” A tremor had crept into the princess’s voice.

  “You’re the one who has to worry about that.” Gwynneth’s smile fled. “Let’s move on the palace,” she said to Colonel Destler on her right. “Allow all who don’t resist to go unharmed, and take Countess Biaram alive.”

  Maryna

  Natalya had been right about where they were headed. Within a few days they’d reached a port, and were herded onto a small ship.

  When Maryna saw the name—Gioso—painted on its side, she feared Natalya would be right about their destination too. It was possible, though unlikely that a Cesiane ship would sail to Galladium.

  Since the ship was so small, she and Natalya had to share a cabin. The moment they were alone, Maryna asked, “What will we do now?”

  “We must convince the captain to take us to Galladium.”

  “How? We’ve still got a lot of guards, and Count Vega.” They’d left a great many guards on land, but at least twenty crowded onto the little Gioso.

  “I know. If I can’t manage it, we must escape once we’ve reached Cesiano, but that will be far more difficult. I’m almost certain they’re taking us to the inner peninsula, which means we cannot return to Galladium without crossing Olvisya.”

  Maryna sat on the edge of the swaying cot and sighed. “It almost makes you wish Henny and Gaspard would appear.”

  “That would be a surprise for everyone, though not necessarily a good one.” Natalya smiled and patted Maryna on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll come up with something. Even in the best conditions, the voyage will take at least a week, so we have a little time.”

  Maryna nodded, though her trust in Natalya’s ingenuity had been shaken. She’d been so confident of working things out in Maladena, and they had just gotten worse. Still being on board ship was a nice change from being stuck in a fortress or a coach, and they had a lot more freedom.

  Captain Tommaso Monforte was friendly and hospitable, inviting Natalya and Maryna for dinner in his cabin. A tall, broad man with curly dark hair, he might have been good-looking but for a large, squashed nose.

  Maryna hoped that dining with him might give Natalya a chance to persuade him to help, but Count Vega insisted on coming along.

  Dinner was pleasant, with the two men trying to outdo each other in charming the ladies, but all Maryna could think of was how she might get rid of Vega. She wondered if she might get him drunk, but he barely touched his wine and asked for watered-down brandy after supper.

  “I’m certain I could persuade Captain Monforte to see things our way,” Natalya whispered, back in their cabin. “But I need time alone with him.”

  “It would help if Count Vega got sick.” Maryna was imagining possibilities. “Perhaps we could feed him something bad.”

  “It’s a nice idea.” Natalya climbed into her swaying cot. “But you noticed how he only eats what we do, after we’ve tried it.”

  Maryna hadn’t noticed, but now she thought about it, she realized Natalya was right. “He’s clever, isn’t he?”

  “He is, and he’s been warned that I might try to outsmart him. He must have a weakness, so I’ll think about it, and you should too. You’re idea about making him sick was a good one. Perhaps you can come up with something else.”

  Maryna was pleased that Natalya considered her able enough to plot and scheme right alongside her. She hoped she wouldn’t let her down.

  By morning, she had it. “Do you think Count Vega likes me?” she asked as she and Natalya helped each other dress. Their maid had been left in Maladena.

  “I’m sure he does, and I doubt it’s in a fatherly way either.” Natalya buttoned up the back of Maryna’s dress, then turned her back to face her. “But no, I won’t allow you to attempt a seduction.”

  “Oh no, nothing like that.” The idea of trying such a thing made Maryna trembly. She found Vega attractive in an odd way and liked how nice he was to her, but she wasn’t at all sure she’d want to kiss him. “I had something else in mind.”

  Once Maryna explained it, Natalya agreed that the idea was worth a try, and they went to the galley for breakfast.

  Vega met them on the way. “Will you come up on deck?” he asked them. “The weather is fine for this time of year and we ought to reach the Selan Islands by late morning. They are quite beautiful as seen from the sea.”

  “We’ll come up.” Maryna gave him a special smile, much longer than usual, meeting his eyes. “Might we go on shore for a while?”

  Vega returned her smile, his eyes lingering on hers. “I’m afraid not. But there’s not much to see on land. Nothing more than a few dirty villages and dirtier goatherds.”

  Maryna waited until they reached the first island and had sailed past it. Natalya wanted to be sure Captain Monforte wouldn’t be distracted.

  The Gioso had been gliding on a gentle sea, but the water was rougher here amongst the many small, rocky islands.

  Maryna waited for the next big wave, then the second it reached the bow, she turned away from the rail, stumbling over a small barrel she’d spotted earlier. She hit the deck harder than she’d planned, and it pitched up, hitting her in the face. She shrieked in pain, with no need to pretend.

  Blood gushed from her nose, and she kept screaming.

  Someone rolled her onto her back and tried to put something on her nose, but she pushed it away.

  She paused for breath and heard Natalya say, “I must get my medical supplies from below. Can you stay with her for a moment?”

  “Certainly.” Vega’s voice was anxious. “What can I do?”

  “Just hold her head back like so,” Natalya tilted Maryna’s head, and Maryna switched from screaming to whimpering, since she could hear better that way.

  “It’s not serious, is it?” Vega whispered, even as he laid a hand on Maryna’s bruised forehead.

  “I don’t know yet.” Natalya struggled to her feet as another wave hit. “But I want my supplies before I probe any further. Can you keep her still?”

  Maryna moaned and thrashed, much as she imagined someone delirious might do. Her head and nose hurt, but aside from that, she was enjoying herself.

  And she found she didn’t mind at all that Count Vega sat right beside her, letting her bleed all over his fine clothes while he stroked her hand, murmuring something soothing in Maladene.

  Elektra

  Elektra had never felt more awkward in her life, and didn’t know how to respond to Braeden’s apparently sincere thanks. She’d never seen him act so civilized, though he looked wild as ever after his long imprisonment.

  But there was no time to stand around and make small talk. Efficient as ever, Major Silberg conferred with the Oltenan leader, and soon the two small forces had merged and were moving briskly toward the palace.

  Elektra was swept along beside Major Silberg and lost track of Braeden for the time being. Someone had brought him a horse, and now he rode with the small cavalry from Oltena.

  During all the confusion in the library, Major Silberg had somehow gotten a message to his troops on the parade grounds, and they’d abandoned their camp, leaving the palace grounds the same way Elektra had. They’d even brought all the horses not kept in the stables, and Elektra was happy to receive a mount, even though it was unfamiliar.

  Braeden’s group soon pulled ahead, likely to help Gwynneth should she need it. Elektra thought it likely she was managing well on her own. It didn’t seem fair that such an u
n-military person get to have command of a whole regiment, while Elektra tagged along like someone’s bothersome little sister.

  The tumult of combat rose from the palace grounds long before they reached them.

  “Gods, I hope Princess Gwynneth hasn’t engaged.” The major looked anxious for the first time that day.

  Elektra secretly hoped she had, and that in the ensuing fight, Countess Biaram would come to a sticky end. Elektra didn’t want to have anything to do with her again. And now she believed Elektra had betrayed her, she’d make a fearsome enemy.

  When they came around to the palace gates, Princess Gwynneth’s troops were streaming inside to join the fight, clearly well underway.

  To Elektra’s surprise, the princess had stopped near the gate in tears, while Braeden stood beside her. Judging by the way her head leaned toward his, and his hand on her shoulder, they were on the best terms, something that made Elektra uneasy.

  She was grateful for Major Silberg, counting him as her only real friend here, though she knew he practically worshiped Braeden as well.

  Silberg rode straight up to the pair, and Elektra followed. “What has happened, Your Grace, and how can I help?” The major’s eyes were sparkling, no doubt at the prospect of action.

  Gwynneth looked up, wiping her eyes. “I ran out of things to say, and had to make good on my threats, I’m afraid.” She offered a tremulous smile. “And to be honest, I do want to get my hands on that countess. The princess’s forces are poorly organized and untrained, so I thought I’d try it. The problem is...”

  She paused and took a deep breath. “The problem is that Prince Devyn charged in at the head of the troops, even though I meant for him to stay back.”

  “Typical behavior.” Braeden shook his head. He carried on with the story. “The duke’s friend, Lieutenant Torresia went after him, along with the little duchess.”

  Elektra assumed the little duchess must have been another one of Gwynneth’s many children, and didn’t blame the princess for being upset. From her brief impression of Devyn, she supposed he wasn’t one to hold back from a fight. She wanted to offer help, but didn’t know what to do.

  Gwynneth wiped a tear and said, “Commander Terris was about to go after them, but I don’t want to let him, considering the trouble all of you endured to get him.”

  “Quite right,” Silberg said, in that firm way he had. “I’ll find the prince and duchess, and Commander Terris will stay to guard Princess Gwynneth.”

  Braeden seemed to agree grudgingly, and Silberg shouted more orders.

  Once he’d finished, Elektra said, “Let me come too.” She was tired of feeling like baggage being dragged here and there.

  “Absolutely not,” Braeden said before Silberg said anything, though he seemed to agree. Braeden continued. “If it’s as you say, and the archduchess has pledged herself to Lennart’s cause, we cannot risk her safety. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “Excellent.” And Silberg was off before Elektra could object.

  Embarrassed, she moved to Princess Gwynneth’s other side so she didn’t have to look at Braeden.

  He put his hand back on Gwynneth’s shoulder and said, “Don’t you worry, Your Grace. Silberg is a good man, and he’ll find your little scoundrels soon enough.”

  Elektra nearly gasped at the disrespectful way he’d referred to a prince and a duchess, but Gwynneth didn’t seem to mind, offering Braeden a grateful smile.

  The commotion inside the gates died down a little, and Elektra inched forward, hoping to see what was going on. Princess Viviane’s defenders had fallen back to the palace proper, and many soldiers sat on the wet ground, surrounded by others guarding them.

  Judging by the calmness of everyone around her, Elektra assumed that they were winning, and the prisoners were Princess Viviane’s hastily gathered forces.

  After a half hour, Silberg reappeared, flanked by Prince Devyn and a surly-looking girl of Elektra’s age, holding a tiny one on the saddle in front of her.

  Princess Gwynneth ran forward with a squeal, and snatched the little girl from the saddle, alternately crying over and shouting at her. Then she handed her off to Braeden, and started on Devyn.

  Elektra was embarrassed for him, being dressed down by his mother in front of everyone, so she turned to look at the other girl, offering a sympathetic smile.

  Instead, the girl jumped off her horse and stalked right up to Elektra. “Are you the archduchess?” she snarled.

  “Er, yes?” Elektra wondered what she’d done now.

  “You have a lot to answer for.” The girl raised her fists. “You deserve a good beating and I intend to give you one.”

  As Elektra shrank back, she said, “Come on, might as well get it over with.”

  Elektra had never been in a fistfight in her life, and stood there paralyzed. She supposed she would just have to let this creature hit her, though she couldn’t think what she’d done to make her so angry.

  But then Braeden stepped between them. “Stop it, Trisa,” he said, taking the girl by the arm and pulling her out of range.

  She scowled at Elektra over her shoulder while he dragged her off. “Why? After all she’s done to you. I’m sure she was behind this too, somehow.”

  “Not this time,” Braeden said, with a half-smile in Elektra’s direction. “Princess Gwynneth just told me how the archduchess uncovered the plot to murder Prince Kendryk and blame me for it. Without her help, I’d be facing trial on the morrow, and we all know how that would have gone.”

  “Why would she help you?” The girl Trisa still scowled at Elektra, though at least she’d unclenched her fists.

  “She’s on our side now,” Braeden said. “I know it’s hard, but you must treat her respectfully, as befitting her station, but also as an ally of King Lennart’s.”

  The girl still didn’t seem convinced, but she threw off Braeden’s arm and stalked away, muttering to herself.

  “Thank you,” Elektra said.

  Braeden grinned at her. “Least I could do.”

  Anton

  “It’ll be a long, hard winter,” Trystan said. “There’s snow in those clouds.” He looked up at the dark banks lowering over their heads while pulling his cloak close around him.

  Anton nodded, already bundled up in his. It seemed right somehow, that everything turn dark and cold now that even more people he cared about were dead. Or about to be, in Braeden’s case.

  Every now and then, in a bad moment, Anton thought he needed to get on better terms with the gods, because he must have angered them. They seemed keen on killing anyone he ever loved.

  “Oh, come on, snow isn’t the end of the world,” Trystan said. “My first year fighting, it felt like the winter lasted forever.”

  That winter, Anton had been in Zeelund, learning to ice skate with Peter and Gretel, while living in Vrouw Melchor’s luxurious mansion. The count was alive, Anton still had Skandar, and he’d been happy. It felt like a hundred years ago. He sniffled a little.

  Trystan looked at him sideways, but kept talking, going on about Daciana Tomescu and how they’d chased her all over eastern Kronland.

  “She has to be dead,” Anton said. “I know everyone thinks she killed Princess Gwynneth, but they’re wrong. I shot her in the head and watched her blow up.”

  “And I watched him do it,” Karil added, riding on Anton’s other side. The three of them formed a somewhat informal head to their little army.

  King Lennart had agreed to their mission, but didn’t want them taking too many troops. So Tristan took five hundred cavalry, including Anton’s newly augmented force, to which Karil was also assigned as a trooper.

  He’d had to give up his infantry commission and start over, but Trystan promised him rapid promotion. All three of them hated missing an invasion into Teodora’s lands, but saving Braeden was more important.

  “I believe you,” Trystan said. “And I hope she’s gone for good. You know how superstitious people are, and the crazy stories th
ey tell. Likely someone saw a woman with black hair and strange eyes, and before long, she was Tomescu reborn.”

  “Well, whoever it was killed Prince Kendryk’s family.” Anton couldn’t shake the heavy sadness. The only thing that kept him from sliding into complete despair was his anger at Braeden’s plight.

  Both Trystan and Karil shared his urgency and they rode north at a speed of forty leagues a day. They were in Oltena, and had no plans to stop, but shortly after crossing the border, a messenger intercepted them.

  Trystan read the message with an increasingly impatient glare, then said, “Princess Galena has invited us to her palace. I suppose she’ll want to feast us, though I’ll insist we only stay one night.”

  “A feast sounds good,” Karil said. “I’m starving.” They had been eating cold food in the saddle. After riding so hard every day, everyone was too tired to start a fire or cook anything.

  “A bath wouldn’t go amiss either,” Trystan said grudgingly.

  “Or a good night’s sleep in a real bed,” Anton added, since they seemed to lean toward accepting. He wasn’t in the mood for socializing, but as the princess was Kendryk’s aunt, he ought to pay his respects.

  “That settles it then,” Trystan said, “Off to the palace we go.”

  Even though he’d spent plenty of time with kings and princes by now, Anton was a little intimidated as they approached the palace. It was the largest and most beautiful he’d seen outside Allaux, and they were shown to luxurious rooms before meeting the princess. It was probably to give them a chance to get cleaned up, dirty as they were from pounding down muddy roads.

  Anton had grown another inch or two since he’d last seen a mirror, and was almost too tall to see the top of his head, stooping to make sure his hair didn’t stand up anywhere. He’d been letting it grow long like Kendryk’s, but when he saw King Lennart again thought his shorter hair looked more militaristic, so he’d cropped it off again. He still hadn’t decided if it looked better or not, and it had an annoying way of sticking out in all directions after it had been washed, which fortunately, wasn’t too often.