“You’re probably right.” Elektra gave Silberg a half-hearted smile. “I’m just tired of spending time with people so hostile to our cause. I wonder how we can sway them?”
“There may be nothing we can do,” Silberg said, “but once they see we mean Isenwald no harm and only seek to improve matters, they might come around.”
“I hope so.” Elektra got up from her desk with a sigh. “I suppose I should go spend time with the ladies.”
She had a group of six women who waited on her, but she felt uncomfortable around them. Still, they were better than the men holding various positions in the palace. They were all gruff and unfriendly and in their presence, Elektra shrank to a smaller size than usual. The women at least pretended to be friendly, even if they rolled their eyes behind her back. She’d caught them at that more than once.
Elektra left Silberg behind and went to the large receiving room. Most of the court spent their days here in the absence of any outdoor pursuits. Like most Kronlanders, these aristocrats were obsessed with hunting and normally ventured out in all weather.
Elektra had appreciated getting them out of her hair often, though Silberg warned they might plot against her, left unsupervised. But now the weather was so bad no one left the palace, though Elektra occasionally saw servants struggling through the snow to reach the well and outbuildings.
When she entered the room, a large and chilly chamber made stuffy by so many inhabitants, everyone jumped to their feet, in a show of feigned respect. Still Elektra went along with it, pasting a gracious smile on her face. At least she hoped it looked gracious and not too silly. She passed through the small crowd, making friendly noises and nodding at the murmured greetings.
“Please be seated,” she said when she’d reached a small cluster of chairs near the enormous fireplace. “I’m just here for a little chat.”
Her ladies bustled around her, pulling out the best chair and offering a little blanket for her knees although it was already much too warm. She sensed a certain awkwardness and wondered what she’d interrupted. Ignoring that, she looked around with a smile. “So tell me, how are you occupying yourselves today?”
“We’ve played every card game we can think of,” the young Baroness Kerstin said, nodding her fluffy blond curls toward a scattered deck on a nearby table. The baroness was the youngest of Elektra’s attendants, and the most friendly. Even so, she often stared at Elektra as if she were some strange species, instead of just another young woman near her own age.
“I hope things aren’t too dull,” Elektra said. “Though I suppose you’re accustomed to this weather in the winter.”
“Oh heavens no,” the Duchess Lemberg, a dark-haired, middle-aged woman who uncomfortably reminded Elektra of her own mother, said. “A blizzard like this comes around only once every fifteen years. Though this time, folk say it’s worse than usual and sent by the gods to punish us.”
“Really?” Elektra asked. “As punishment for what?” Likely for Princess Viviane’s crimes, though she didn’t want to say that out loud.
“Why, it should be obvious.” The duchess laughed a high-pitched tinkling laugh. “The peasants not knowing their rightful place and rebelling against their masters. The gods don’t approve of such behavior.” She fixed a stern gaze on Elektra, as if she ought to have known that already.
“Oh. I rather thought the peasant revolt was punishment for other, er, misdeeds.” While she’d found these women united in their dislike of Princess Viviane who’d bullied them horribly, they often seemed unaccountably sad that she was gone. Elektra didn’t understand it.
“I’m sure you’re right, Your Grace,” the Baroness Kerstin said, with a quelling look at the others. “We must all ask the gods’ forgiveness for the wrongs we’ve done.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Elektra said, relieved. She always felt on firmer footing when it came to religion. “When this storm is over, let’s arrange something with the Maxima. A thanksgiving service, followed by confession of our sins.”
Seeing only glum, skeptical faces around her, she added, “and then we’ll have a feast to celebrate.”
That at least seemed to bring approval. Elektra wished for Gwynneth’s release not just for its own sake, but because she needed her to find her replacement and do it soon. Let someone else deal with this lot.
Teodora
“I’d be happy to accompany you wherever you wish to go,” Janos Rykter said, his smile broad.
Teodora frowned, though secretly she was happy to see Rykter again. And with Sybila always nearby as a glowering chaperone, she was unlikely to get herself into any trouble. “I’d hoped you’d been having fun here, killing Estenorians,” she said.
Rykter sighed. “To be honest, Your Highness, it’s not going as well as I’d hoped. They’re fighting back rather hard and have been flinging money at the local populace, turning them against us. Some even say they’ve spotted Lennart himself, dining with peasants.”
“I’m sure that’s just a rumor.” Teodora shook her head. “Even if Lennart has heard about the trouble, I doubt he’ll stir from Terragand this late in the year.”
“Are you sure he’s in Terragand?” Rykter frowned. “I wish we could confirm it, because if he’s here, I hate to leave. Gods only know what he might be up to.”
“Well, he won’t stay up to it for long.” Teodora smiled, then told Rykter about her deal with Mattila.
He didn’t look pleased. “I suppose you had to hire her under the circumstances, but I wish it had been anyone else.”
“There is no one else,” Teodora said, wondering what Rykter had against Mattila.
“That woman and I have an unfortunate history.” Rykter shook his head. “I don’t mind getting out of her way, though I hate to miss out on a good fight.”
“Oh, I imagine we’ll have a fight on our hands in Isenwald,” Teodora said. “And you’re in good company. I’ve hated Mattila as long as I’ve known her.”
“Same here,” Rykter said eagerly. “When I was young I was so excited about serving under the great general, but she turned out to be the most awful bully.” A shadow crossed his face. “I don’t know why she had it in for me, but she did.”
“Me too,” Teodora agreed. “I can’t help but think she’s jealous of those she perceives to have unusual ability.”
“Maybe.” Rykter grinned. “Though I’m no military genius, so maybe that was what she held against me.”
“Who knows? I don’t care.” Teodora’s mood was improving with every step the horses took, pulling her carriage farther and farther away from Arcius. “I’m just glad to be rid of her for now. She can fight well enough without me around.” She told Rykter of the happenings in Isenwald and what she planned to do about them.
“We’ve heard the wildest rumors here too,” Rykter said. “Some say Lennart is there, but it doesn’t make sense he’d put the archduchess in charge.”
“Unless she’s betrayed me.” Teodora had thought about it long enough it no longer bothered her as much as it had at first.
“That would be an awful crime.”
“Indeed. Which is why I need to see for myself. Now, what do you think is the best and fastest way for me to reach Isenwald?”
“We ought to take the river,” Rykter said, much to Teodora’s surprise. “Tirilis is crawling with Estenorian troops and we won’t get far without fighting our way through.”
“I don’t mind that.” In fact, she rather craved action and excitement.
“Well, I do.” Rykter smiled at her. “I’m sorry, but I won’t risk Your Highness’s safety. And the river is safer, at least right now. There are still a lot of barges running long stretches of it, and we ought to be able to disguise you as a commercial traveler. We have to hope it doesn’t freeze over. It’s shaping up to be a rough winter.”
“I’m not sure I like the idea.” Teodora didn’t want to cower in a disguise, because she wasn’t afraid. At the same time, it might be a more pleasant way
to travel than bumping along in a carriage, and faster. “What about your army?”
“We can bring it along,” Rykter said, “but it’ll cost a lot more to buy places on boats and barges for so many soldiers and horses.”
“Let’s do it,” Teodora said. She’d secured a large loan from Princess Alarys and was feeling generous. Besides, the sooner she could arrive in Isenwald, the better.
Traveling by boat was surprisingly pleasant, in spite of the cold. The river was clogged with Lennart’s cargo barges, finally freed up from Princess Viviane’s machinations. But they were all in a hurry to reach Richenbruck, so didn’t trouble Teodora. She wished her force was large enough to seize one or two, but decided Mattila could deal with them.
The general had been making grumbling noises about supply shortages while she prepared to leave Arcius, but Teodora ignored her. Supplying the army was officially Mattila’s problem and Teodora refused to be drawn into it.
Carried along with both sails and oars, the boats bearing Teodora and her troops made good progress west along the Tira River. But they ran into trouble on the Fromenberg sea, which had begun to freeze over. Few boats were attempting to cross it in the bitterly cold conditions, but Teodora ordered the captain to carry on.
She’d wanted to threaten him, but Rykter cautioned against it. “This is a Fromenberg boat,” he said, “and that kingdom hasn’t declared for or against you yet. Best not to antagonize the ruler.”
So Teodora relented, choosing instead to encourage the captain with the promise of a large bag of coin if he delivered her to Lerania by the turn of the year. They went forward then, even though the boat’s hull made alarming noises as it pushed through the ice, the sailors breaking it with their oars. A few times, it looked too thick, but the captain shouted and stomped, and they made it through.
Teodora breathed a great sigh of relief as they entered the mouth of the Lera River. The faster-moving water was less likely to freeze, and she expected to be in Isenwald within days.
Lennart
It snowed, but that wasn’t enough to stop Mattila. Lennart had just dug out of his camp one morning when a messenger arrived from Lofbrok, who’d been watching the Arcius border.
“She’s crossed it,” Lennart said to his adjutant, after reading the message. “Her force isn’t large, but I imagine she’ll meet up with more. Let’s see if we can stop that happening.”
The adjutant stood ready to take a message while Lennart pondered, a quill poised over a fresh sheet of paper. He’d already told Lofbrok not to engage just yet. When he took on Mattila, he wanted it to be decisive. Stopping her small force now wouldn’t do much good if her other troops scattered across the land were still active. At the same time, he didn’t want to give her room to cause trouble.
It seemed Janos Rykter and his force had disappeared, but Lennart wouldn’t assume anything. He might well be waiting for further orders from Mattila. Lennart scribbled a few words and handed the paper to the adjutant.
“Get this to a messenger,” he said, pulling on his coat as he stood. “And then give the order to move out. It’s a damned nuisance in this snow, but we need to go.”
He had to get between Mattila and the bulk of her army. For the past few weeks, he’d been doing his best to locate all of them, but that hadn’t been easy. Many had been quartered on western towns, but they were all gone now, and no one would say where, in spite of the money Lennart spread around.
Still, he had most of his troops in the field and reinforcements would arrive from Lantura any day now. Once again, he cursed Trystan for running off the way he had, though he was sure Anton was to blame for dragging him off on this adventure.
He stomped through camp, the snow trampled down by thousands of feet as tents were taken down and loaded into wagons. By the time he’d mounted his horse and taken his place at the head of the royal guard, another messenger had arrived, this time from Tora Isenberg.
While he read it, he cursed under his breath. He should have known any creature of Teodora’s was likely to be just as evil. He turned to an officer. “We ride for Richenbruck,” he said.
By the time they reached the city, it was clear that things had changed. Lennart had to force his way across the bridge, through endless crowds of people. He couldn’t look at them too closely, lest they infect him with their palpable despair.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Tora Isenberg said once he’d reached her. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. “Mattila’s soldiers are forcing them out of their homes and taking everything. Hundreds have already frozen to death out there.”
“You did right,” Lennart said, while working out what to do next. “How did this happen? I thought she had only a thousand troops coming out of Arcius.”
“She did.” Isenberg pursed her lips. “But that force was soon followed by a good five thousand, and a much larger force has pushed down from the north.”
Lennart cursed under his breath. While he’d worried about the west, Mattila’s main army had slipped around him. “So it’s bad.”
Isenberg shrugged. “Hard to say from a military standpoint. But the civilian situation is disastrous. Mattila did the same thing when she fought Arryk. She’d move into an area and bleed it dry. Kick the folk out of their homes, steal everything that wasn’t nailed down, and some that was, then move on. Like a plague of locusts. But it wasn’t winter then, so most people could hide in the woods and survive. This is different, with the snow covering everything.”
“We’ve got to stop her,” Lennart said, “and the only way to do that is to clear the countryside. We’ll move what we can into the city and burn the rest. Can we use the fortress for storage?”
“Maybe. It’s damp in there, but I doubt we’ll keep anything for more than a few months.”
“Good. Livestock? Can we keep them up there too, in that big courtyard?”
“I don’t see why not. We can build pens in the big city squares too.”
Lennart stood up and clapped her on the shoulder. “I’ll head out into the countryside and send everyone this way, along with all they can carry, and their livestock. Then I’ll set the rest on fire. Mattila will find herself hungry and cold as these poor people before too long.”
“All right.” Isenberg’s face was weary and grim. “What’ll we do with all the people?”
“Every house in the city takes in at least one family. Any large house takes in at least three. Fill the temples and the shops if you have to. Tell the burgomaster I’m ordering it. Gods willing, it won’t be for long, but our job is to keep as many people alive as long as we can.
“Put the able-bodied to work on fortifications right away. That ought to help keep them out of trouble, and anything we can throw up in Mattila’s way is good. Once I’ve cleared the area around the city, I’ll work my way north and east. With any luck I can engage Mattila long before there’s any danger of a siege.”
“All right.” Isenberg smiled slightly. “I’m glad you’re here, Your Highness. It doesn’t sound like it’ll work, but you always give me faith it will.”
“It will,” Lennart said, giving her a firm look. He couldn’t have one of his best generals sliding into despair, though he didn’t blame her. The view from her window was of an endless stream of frozen, ragged refugees shuffling down the street.
Maryna
Standing at the window was interesting. Or maybe it was that Maryna had been so terribly bored, stuck in a coach for weeks on end. She enjoyed watching the marketplace as it came to life in the mornings, wagons laden with goods of all kinds unloading into the stalls.
The stalls stayed up for the three market days, and then most were taken down for the rest of the week. A few selling ale, hot soup and gingerbread stayed up to serve the crowds that gathered on other days.
As cold as it was, Maryna wished she could join everyone else, chattering with friends and neighbors, while sipping at steaming cups. She wondered what was in the cups, because it made everyone rat
her merry.
One evening, a small brass orchestra assembled in the square, and folk dressed in elaborately embroidered coats and hats danced in big circles.
“It must be the feast of Ercos.” Natalya joined her at the window. “At least now I know which day it is. I was afraid I’d lost track.”
“So it’s my birthday,” Maryna said. She had lost track.
“Fourteen.” Natalya smiled. “Happy Birthday, darling. I’m so sorry it’s not a very nice one.” She put an arm around Maryna, and kissed her on the cheek. “I promise next year’s will be better. I’ll throw a huge party for you at my palace.”
“Thank you.” Maryna smiled back. The thought of a big party lifted her mood, but only for a moment. When she looked down at the square, she thought even a simple gathering like that would be better than nothing.
“I’d love to dance,” Maryna said. “They must be having so much fun.”
“I know.” Natalya sighed. “But the guards won’t let us.”
After a while, Natalya left the window, but Maryna stayed, even as it grew dark. Someone had built a large bonfire in the middle of the square and torches lit its edges, and the street where Maryna lived. She grabbed her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders so she could keep the window open longer.
A cluster of boys her age wandered by on the street below, and one of them looked up. “Hey,” he said, nudging one of his comrades, “Look at her.”
“Whew.” The other boy whistled under his breath. “I’ve never seen a beauty like that before.”
“I can hear you, you know.” Maryna laughed, surprised she could understand their strange dialect of Olvisyan.
The boy who’d paid her the compliment still gazed up at her. He was shorter than his friends, but had a rosy, good-natured face beneath a thatch of straw-colored hair. His upturned nose and sparkling brown eyes made him look like fun.
Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4) Page 45