Winter of the Wolf (The Desolate Empire Book 4)

by Christina Ochs

  “You’ll need different clothes,” Resi Tardin said when they arrived at breakfast. “I can pass you off as local boys returning home from a long trip to Forli. Just don’t open your mouths when you’re around the guards. You sound like damned foreigners.”

  “We are foreigners,” Karil said, indignant.

  “Huh.” Tardin frowned. “You’re not going to make a mess of things here, are you?”

  “I can’t guarantee that,” Trystan said, “though that’ll depend on how much of a fight the guards put up.”

  “You can’t be thinking of taking them on? There must be at least thirty.”

  “No,” Trystan said. “I have seventy soldiers waiting in the next village. I’ll send for them when we’re ready to start.”

  “Good man. Now get into these things. At least you’ll look like you’re from around here, even if you don’t sound it.”

  Anton thought they looked funny in the long coats, tall boots and slouchy red hats the locals wore, but once they were walking through town in broad daylight, he realized he looked like everyone else, just taller.

  They decided to have lunch at the inn, and talk to the innkeep first. Anton had just reached for his flagon of ale when a commotion came from the stairway. Four tall, sturdy guards came down and took positions at the front door. Two women followed the guards.

  The room buzzed and Anton had to grab his ale to keep from gawping. He recognized Natalya immediately. Except for the strange clothes she wore, she looked the same as ever.

  The girl might have been a stranger, but for her wide blue eyes, so like Kendryk’s. Anton couldn’t help staring. There was nothing left of the little girl he’d known in Allaux.

  “Holy Mother save us,” Trystan was saying. “Please tell me she’s the damsel we’re rescuing.”

  Anton nodded, while trying not to stare.

  Gwynneth

  It had to be near dawn. Snuggled deep into a pile of furs in the sledge, Gwynneth opened her eyes. She’d closed them to stop the tears pushing against her lids after hearing Florian’s dreadful story. She hadn’t made a peep, since Braeden seemed to handle it well enough. It was as though the poor man had become a magnet to the grief-stricken.

  In time, she fell asleep and by the time she awakened, thought they must be near Kronfels. The plan was to have Braeden bring them into town, while pretending Florian was his servant. At least a dozen of Florian’s people were to have slipped into the city over the past few days.

  Gwynneth and the children would stay in a house somewhere until it was over. Braeden wouldn’t let her take part in any of it, insisting she’d already done her part, but she was adamant about seeing Princess Viviane’s body at the end.

  “You don’t have any other plans for it?” Braeden asked, looking a little worried. Gwynneth didn’t know why he seemed under the impression she was in the habit of mutilating bodies.

  “Tempting, but no.” She stared at Braeden. “Though I won’t complain if you want to—”

  “Oh gods no,” Braeden said. “Princess Viviane ought to be a mere mortal, so there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll just be glad to have her dead.”

  “Me too.” For the hundredth time, Gwynneth was glad Braeden was on her side. She wasn’t sure if she could call him a friend, but with Kendryk gone, she trusted Braeden more than anyone on earth.

  Beside Gwynneth, the children yawned and stretched, poking sleepy heads out of their wraps.

  “Are we there yet?” Stella asked.

  “Not far, I’m sure.” Gwynneth put an arm around her and kissed her on the head. “Are you hungry? We still have some of those pastries we helped Magda make.”She rummaged in a basket at her feet, but looked up at the sound of rapid hoofbeats and shouting.

  “It’s my friend Trisa!” Stella said.

  “Stop the sledge,” Braeden said, and Florian drew it to a halt.

  “What’s going on, Lieutenant?” Braeden asked.

  “You need to turn around.” Trisa was breathing hard. She looked like she’d been in a great hurry. “The Empress Teodora turned up at the palace a few days ago and took over.”

  Gwynneth gasped. “What about the archduchess?”

  “I don’t know.” Trisa shook her head. “I stayed a few days to try to get more information, but decided it was time to go when word came that Teodora’s put a price on your heads.”

  “I don’t understand.” Gwynneth cast an anxious glance at Florian, whose face had hardened. “How in the world did Teodora get here?”

  “Sailed right up the river,” Trisa said, grabbing one of the horses by the harness and turning the sledge around. “Took over the palace and town, killed the Estenorian guard. No one knows for sure, but it’s likely she’s captured the archduchess. She’s let Princess Viviane out of the dungeon, threw the Maxima in it, and offered coin and a pardon to anyone who kills you. We need to get out of here.”

  “I know where we can go,” Florian said, taking the reins as Braeden left to give orders to Destler. “But we must hurry.”

  Maryna

  “Why don’t you sit on this side for a change?” Natalya slid into Maryna’s usual seat at the long table.

  Maryna shrugged and took her place on the other side. She had a much better view of the whole dining room from here, which was even more crowded than usual.

  Natalya looked tense, though she said nothing until their food came. “Don’t move your head,” she murmured, after spearing a roast potato with her fork. “But I want you to take a good look at the three young men sitting at the end of the table behind me. Do any of them look familiar?”

  Maryna took a bite of potato, then let her eyes travel across the room as she chewed. She first met the intense gaze of a boy with dark red hair and strangely colored eyes. He had been staring at her, but looked away, toward the boy next to him. Maryna nearly smiled, but took another bite to cover it up. She wondered that she hadn’t noticed this one first because he was very good-looking, in spite of a terrible scar on one cheek.

  He was staring at Maryna rather hard, until she blushed. Another man with an enormous black beard sat at the end of the table, so he might have been older. Maryna looked back at the handsome one, then tore her eyes away. “One looks a little familiar,” she murmured. “Though I can’t quite place him.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t recognize him,” Natalya said with a smile, “though it’s true he’s changed a great deal since we last saw him.”

  Maryna looked again. He smiled a crooked smile and raised one eyebrow. She gasped and looked away.

  “Careful,” Natalya said. “The guards must not see that anything’s different.”

  “That’s Anton,” Maryna said in a furious whisper. “He’s supposed to be dead.”

  Natalya frowned. “You weren’t supposed to know that.”

  “I overheard my parents talking about what happened to Count Orland a long time ago.” Maryna poked at her food, unable to eat now. “I cried and cried, then spent hours praying to the gods, hoping they might have spared him.”

  “It seems they did.” Natalya’s eyes sparkled as they hadn’t in a long time.

  Maryna was still in shock, hardly daring to believe Anton was not only alive, he was here. And then she realized why he was. “Oh gods,” she said, trying to keep her voice down though she wanted to squeal with delight. “He’s here to rescue us, isn’t he?”

  “I hope so.” Natalya was eating as though everything were still completely normal. “But let’s speak no more of it until we’re alone.”

  Maryna couldn’t eat any more though she did a passable job of shoving food around her plate, and the guards seemed none the wiser. Before they came over to take her back to her room, Maryna took another good look at Anton.

  Now she knew it was he, she wondered that she hadn’t realized it right away. Even though he was no longer a skinny boy, he was clearly the same person, with his sparkling dark eyes and the dimple in his cheek. She decided she liked the scar, though she
didn’t want to think of how he’d gotten it.

  Back in their room, Natalya hustled Maryna to the farthest corner away from the door. “I assume those three were here to check things out and find out exactly where we are.” She took a scarf from a pile on the chair and went to the window, opening it carefully so it didn’t squeak, then hanging the scarf over the sill and closing the window to keep it in place. “So they know which room is ours.”

  Maryna was glad Natalya was clever about such things, because she wouldn’t have thought to do that. In fact, she couldn’t much think about anything except that Anton was alive and had come to rescue her.

  “We must be ready anytime,” Natalya said. “I hope they’ll come for us tonight, though I can’t be sure. It makes sense we’d want to get away under cover of darkness.” She stood at the window, staring at the wall of the house opposite. “I’d hoped Gauvain would send someone himself, but I won’t complain.”

  “Perhaps King Gauvain sent them.” Maryna sat on the end of the bed, trying hard to keep from bouncing. She was so excited.

  “Perhaps.” Natalya turned to face her. “Though I would have expected him to send someone older. I can’t imagine any of those three being a day over twenty.”

  “The one with the beard maybe.”

  Natalya laughed. “He’s not. Didn’t you recognize Karil?”

  “Karil Andarosz? The boy who was a prisoner with Papa?”

  “I’m sure. It’s an impressive beard for any age, but he can’t be over seventeen.”

  Maryna had hardly given him more than a glance, but now she considered it, he might well be Karil. It made her even happier that two old friends had come to help her. “I wonder how he and Anton ended up together.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be a good story. Now come, we must make ready. Fill your pockets with everything you want to take along. I doubt anything will happen until late, but we must be dressed warmly when it does.”

  The rest of the day dragged on. Maryna had nothing to pack, so she put on two layers of stockings and petticoats. She only had the one dress, but could throw on her cloak and a shawl or two.

  The guards came to get them for supper, but the boys were nowhere to be seen. Maryna couldn’t help but be disappointed, though it made sense they’d be off somewhere, preparing for the rescue. She hoped so at least.

  After supper, they went back to their room and crawled into bed wearing all of their clothes.

  “Oh gods, I hope they come tonight. I can’t bear waiting any longer.”

  “You might have to.” Natalya pulled the covers up under her chin. “But what’s another day or two after all these months?”

  “I still can’t bear it,” Maryna said, blowing out the lamp, then staring at the dark ceiling for hours.

  Lennart

  “By all the gods,” Lennart swore as he looked through a glass at Richenbruck’s walls. Those still held firm, with the great earthworks around them, but Mattila’s army surrounding them was vast. Lennart had brought his force as close as he dared, then rode ahead to a ridge offering a better view of the city and its surroundings.

  Mattila had posted a small force to guard the ridge, but Lennart cleared it out quickly enough. What bothered him more than Mattila’s numbers was a plume of smoke rising from what had been his supply depot.

  Knowing Tora Isenberg, she’d have gotten the bulk of the supplies inside the city before Mattila torched the makeshift warehouses. The problem was, it left Lennart with no supplies, at least nothing beyond the next three or four days.

  He snapped the glass shut and turned to Leyf Lofbrok. “Order half rations effective at once. I must act quickly, even though I’m sure that’s what Mattila wants.”

  “We can fall back into Lantura,” Lofbrok said. “There’ll be plenty of food there.”

  “I can’t leave Isenberg in the lurch,” Lennart said. “Thanks to our activity in the countryside, the city is packed with three times its usual population. She’ll run out of food within weeks.”

  Lennart brought most of his army closer to the city and made his own camp near the observation ridge. He was sure Mattila knew he was watching and likely welcomed it. He doubted she’d let him rest easy for even a second.

  He was right. Lennart had just laid down for the night when someone came to get him.

  “Your Highness, General Lofbrok wants you.”

  Lennart threw on some clothes and went to find Lofbrok, who waited for him with his horse.

  “We must get back on the ridge,” he said. “We’ve had observers watching the city and they sent word.”

  “Is she bombarding it already?” Lennart asked, swinging into the saddle.

  “Not the city,” Lofbrok said.

  They reached the ridge within minutes, and Lennart didn’t need a glass to see what was going on. The roar of cannon broke the quiet night and tiny flames darted from the mouths of dozens of guns. Worse, the glow of fire rose from the Obenstein itself.

  Lennart swallowed hard. “Can she take it?” he asked.

  “If we could take it, she can too,” Lofbrok said. “We didn’t have time to repair the walls the way we needed to. I’d hoped the earthworks would stop the worst of it, but she must have gotten incendiaries into the fortress itself.”

  “Can the garrison inside get out?” Lennart asked.

  “If they go quickly,” Lofbrok said. “The road back into the city is covered, so they ought to make it.”

  “I hope they’ve already gone,” Lennart muttered. Losing the supplies stored up there was another blow, and now Isenberg would have to accommodate the garrison from the fortress. Worse, once Mattila moved into the position, she could train the fortress’s guns on the city below and that would be the end of it.

  Bursts of fire came from the walls of the fortress and Lennart lifted his glass. Those were the cannon ports, but they weren’t shooting. They were spiking their own guns, likely before evacuating.

  “That’ll help,” Lennart said. “How long before she drags her own guns up there?”

  “Two days, maybe three,” Lofbrok said. “It won’t be easy, but she’ll drive her people like slaves. One day to get them up to the fortress, another to get our guns out of the way and hers in place.”

  “Are we ready to engage her tomorrow?” Lennart asked.

  He knew in theory, he had enough troops, though slightly outnumbered and sorely missing Trystan and Isenberg. At least he knew Isenberg would put up stiff resistance if the enemy found a way in. Lennart didn’t intend to allow that.

  “Everyone’s here, so we can fight tomorrow if we must.” Lofbrok shrugged. “Best to attack while she’s busy trying to drag her guns up hill.”

  “True,” Lennart said. “She’ll be expecting us, but there’s nothing to be done about it. We just have to beat her.”

  Anton

  Back at the burgomaster’s house, the boys changed back into their normal clothes. Anton wanted to leave right away to gather their reinforcements, but Trystan wouldn’t allow it.

  “We can’t be seen skulking about,” he said. “We’ll leave after dark.”

  “But that means we can’t rescue them tonight.” Anton tapped his toe. Now he’d seen Maryna and how happy she was to see him, he couldn’t wait to make sure she was safe. He didn’t like the look of those Cesiane guards, and hoped they weren’t treating her too terribly.

  “No.” Trystan looked at him amused, while he buttoned up his doublet. “It’ll be tomorrow night, most like. We’ll come back into town by morning, get back into our disguises and make sure they haven’t moved them.”

  They’d walked around the building after lunch, and spotted a woolen scarf hanging out of a second-floor window .

  “They must have done that to help us,” Trystan had said. “You’re sure she recognized you?”

  “Positive.” Anton sighed, relishing the memory. Maryna had changed a lot, but she looked like a woman now, and a very pretty one. That she’d been so clearly delighted to see him m
ade him happier than he’d been in a while.

  Trystan shook his head. “It seems Karil was right, and you really are in love with the princess.”

  “She’s just an old friend,” Anton insisted. “Though she’s much prettier than I remember. You can’t blame me for being fond of her.”

  “Not at all.” Trystan grinned. “In fact, I’m fond of her myself, though maybe it won’t last once I’ve spoken to her. I can’t decide which one I like better, her or the Maxima. Now there’s a real woman.”

  “Too much for you,” Anton said, shaking his head. “And it doesn’t matter if you like them; you have to rescue them either way.”

  “I’d rescue them if they were shriveled old ladies. This just makes it more fun.”

  Anton couldn’t disagree with that.

  They needed most of the night to make their way over a small pass to the village where the rest of the troops stayed, and bring them all back before dawn. Trystan had them wait in a small clearing in the woods, about a half-league from town.

  “We’ll come get you after dark,” he said.

  They returned to the burgomaster, who seemed to enjoy her part in the adventure, changed back into their funny clothes and went back to the inn for lunch.

  “We want to make sure the guards haven’t noticed us,” Trystan said. “It won’t do us any good to attack tonight, only to find they’ve moved the prisoners.”

  But when Anton walked into the dining room at the inn, Maryna and Natalya were already there, and the boys had to shoulder past the formidable guards stationed at the door.

  This time Maryna faced the door and her eyes lit up when she saw him. Anton noticed she looked paler, with dark circles under her eyes. She probably had slept no better than he had, which was not at all.

  Anton gave her a wink as he passed, and she smiled, but looked away quickly. They sat in the same spot as before, but this time Natalya faced them.