The little stream burbled downhill, so Janna followed it uphill. She walked for some time, wondering if she’d ever find anything when she spotted something red on the other side of the stream. She jumped across the stones in the middle, splashing her skirts but at least not falling in.
Sure enough, there was a cluster of waist-high bushes holding tiny red berries. They had a strawberry shape, but were much smaller than any she’d ever seen. Janna picked one and took a tiny bite, hoping it wouldn’t be enough to poison her. The flavor burst onto her tongue and she laughed in spite of herself. It was without doubt a strawberry. And there had to be hundreds of them.
It took a long time to pick the bushes clean, and it looked like there were just as many not yet ripe. She could come back here in a few days. It had grown warm, and she took her cloak off as the sun climbed higher. The rays cut through the dark branches and glimmered off the water. It was too bad the farm was so unpleasant, and that there wouldn’t be berries here forever. She needed a plan to get away before they married her to that horrid Seko, but found herself hungry and unable to think.
She sat on a stone by the creek, dug out a heel of bread she’d saved from her breakfast, ate a handful of strawberries and had a long drink of the creek’s icy water. Feeling refreshed, she moved further upstream. She didn’t know where to hunt for mushrooms, although Disla had said there should be some. It was clear there weren’t any in the sunshine with the strawberries, so she looked in shady spots.
At last, she spotted one—a golden cap on a bed of needles. She plucked it and inspected it carefully. It looked just like those in the market. She decided to pick a few and see if Disla could name them. Once she’d noticed one, they seemed to spring up everywhere.
Her basket was full when she realized the sun was setting. She’d wandered far from the stream and almost panicked when she couldn’t hear it. After standing quietly for a moment she discerned a faint trickle in the distance. When she found it again, she made her way down to the water, hoping she’d spot the path she’d taken from the field.
She was very close when there was a tremendous crashing through the brush. She froze in terror but burst out laughing when she saw it was Anton, pushing through the bushes, thwacking at them with a stick. Probably playing at soldier again.
“There you are Mama,” he said, breathless. “They sent me to fetch you for supper. Everyone was sure you were lost.”
That would suit them, too, Janna thought. “Look what I found.” She showed him the basket. “Have a few strawberries, but not too many.” She was about to say he’d spoil his appetite, but considering the quality of their meals, he needed the extra food.
Between mouthfuls of berries, Anton told her about his day. The baby had been good, although Anyezka cried for a long time after Janna had gone. “So I told her I would bring you back.”
“I’m glad you did.” Janna smiled down at him. “I missed both of you.”
“I missed you too.” Anton took her free hand. They were on the trail now, the setting sun shining through the trees. “But I didn’t cry. Those people don’t like it when you cry.”
“They’re rather tough. But they’re good to us, so you should always be kind, even when they’re grumpy.”
“I know. But I’ll be happy when we can go home.”
“Me too.” Janna couldn’t figure out an alternative to returning to Kaleva and finding her own family. She had nothing to start with anywhere else and staying here was unthinkable.
Anton looked up at her and pulled her to a stop at the edge of the woods. “Uncle Seko says you’ll marry him and we’ll live here forever and ever.”
“Oh, he’s just joking.” Janna attempted a dismissive laugh. “I would be a terrible farmer’s wife.”
“But you found mushrooms.” Anton peered into her basket. “And he doesn’t care that you don’t know about farming. He cares that you’re pretty. But you’re still married to Papa, aren’t you?” He looked up at her anxiously.
“Yes, I am.” It seemed the children hadn’t overheard last night’s conversation. “So of course, Uncle Seko is just joking.”
Anton looked relieved.
Back in the smoky kitchen, Disla looked almost pleased over the mushrooms—which she confirmed were edible—and the strawberries.
“We won’t eat them ourselves,” she said. “But if you can pick more tomorrow, we’ll take them to market next week. We need the coin more right now. After the bad winter, we ate all the seed potatoes and had to spend our last bits on more.”
That might explain the quality of the food. “How dreadful,” Janna said. “Farming must be very hard.”
Disla shrugged and pushed a damp strand of hair out of her face. “Some years are, and other years are good. It’s always that way.” That sounded a lot like trade, too. In the end, it was all work, though Janna had to admit that trade was less dirty. After taking the strawberries and mushrooms to the cooling shed, she stood by the well, trying to scrub the grime off her fingers.
She saw Seko come from his room, so she finished in a hurry and returned to the house the other way, so she didn’t run into him. She would have to get a lot of practice at that.
Braeden
Not much time went by before Braeden lost track of it altogether. Once inside the fortress, he didn’t see light again, unless you counted the faintest glow of a lamp or maybe a candle that appeared once daily, when a guard shoved a wooden trencher filled with something inedible through a small slot.
There was nothing else. No sound, no light. The first time he woke up in the cell, Braeden wasn’t even sure if he was alive. He had to recall the events that brought him there, and once he felt outrage rising in his chest, radiating out the tips of his fingers and the top of his head, he felt like himself again.
He wanted to kill someone, but no one came. Braeden considered hitting the wall, but reckoned the wall might come out ahead in such a contest. He hated sitting around like this, doing nothing. He didn’t know if he could stand it. But it wasn’t like he had a choice.
So he waited. He passed the time by pacing the cell. He knew little about it except that it took seven steps to walk from one end to the other. There was a pile of ancient, evil-smelling straw in one corner, meant to be his bed, and a small trench cut into the floor, which served as a privy. Far below, he heard the faint gurgle of water, but it was impossible to tell how near or far, and the opening wasn’t large enough for a rat to slip through, let alone a man of Braeden’s size. Though he might shrink fast, the way they were feeding him.
He slept a great deal. The straw was no worse than a saddle or fields he’d spent many uncomfortable nights in, and the stone cell was oddly warm and humid. Rats and fleas seemed to find it hospitable and before long, Braeden staved off boredom by alternately scratching himself and crushing the fleas as he caught them.
He’d settled into a dull apathy, so when a visitor came, he was unprepared. Even the faint light of the guard’s lamp was too bright, and Braeden wondered if he was being taken to his execution. He hoped Teodora would be there; he’d die bravely just to spite her. He would have liked to think of something clever and cutting to say to her at the end, but doubted he’d come up with anything good.
Squinting and stumbling, he followed the guard down a dark corridor and into a very bright room. He realized the room was so bright because it had a window, and sunlight beamed in. Braeden had wondered if he’d ever see it again and grinned.
Braeden half fell into a chair, helped by a shove from the guard. When his eyes came into focus, he saw Prince Novitny sitting at a table across from him.
“Thank the gods you’re alive.” Novitny’s booming voice was muted and more serious than Braeden had ever heard it before. “I worried that crazy bitch would have you killed before I could do anything about it.”
“Who? Tomescu?”
Novitny chuckled. “No, Teodora. Those two make a right fine pair, don’t they?”
“I still can’t b
elieve it. The empress herself.”
“That’s because you don’t know her. But that’s beside the point right now. I insisted on seeing you because I don’t trust her.”
“You’ve been talking to Teodora?” Braeden’s brain was working much too slowly.
“Shouting, more like. But we’re making progress though it’s been an unpleasant few days.”
“Please tell me the others are all right.” Braeden had done his best to not think about what might have befallen his officers.
“Released this last hour, all of them.”
“Thank the gods.”
“Thank Dura. She got to me fast, and I barged in on the empress before she killed the lot of you, which it seems was her plan. She freed that Tomescu creature right away of course and sent her back to Moralta before the next day ended.”
Braeden made an indignant noise.
“Indeed.” Novitny looked grim. “But I wasn’t letting her have my troopers. I did a lot of shouting and stomping around in her throne room in front of everyone. Her Highness couldn’t get a word in edgewise, which I suspect was a new experience for her. She finally agreed to let all the officers go but you. She also agreed to a public trial for you. I didn’t much like it, but it was enough to keep me from leaving and joining Andor Korma, that troublemaker in Marjatya.”
“That was what you threatened?”
Novitny nodded. “And I would have done it, too. You had the right of it. Tomescu operates illegally by every rule of law. That she’s a close friend of the empress changes nothing. There’s no way you’d be found guilty.”
“I hope not. Though I’m sure she can find a way.”
“She’ll try. But I won’t allow it. Call in some favors if I have to. She knows well that my father and Queen Ottilya were childhood friends. The last thing she needs right now is Sanova causing her trouble, along with everyone else.”
“But isn’t Teodora’s brother married to Queen Ottilya?”
“Oh yes, but that’s not a point in the empress’s favor. It’s said he hates her with a passion and prays to Ercos for her painful death daily.”
“No fond childhood memories, then.”
“Seems not. Though if she was half the bully then that she is now, it’s not surprising. No, her brother would welcome any excuse to start a fight, and she knows that.”
“You seem to know what you’re doing, and I’m grateful…” Braeden began.
“Oh stop it.” The prince snorted. “I won’t have you getting all weepy like some old woman now. The bad news is you’re stuck in here a bit longer though I plan to hold her feet to the fire and make this trial happen soon. Be ready.”
Kendryk
Once they’d left the city behind them, Count Faris smiled at Kendryk. “Impressive, Your Grace. Although I take it she did not agree to a council.”
“She did not.” Kendryk grinned back, relieved all the same. He explained the next steps, and Faris nodded.
“The letter to the empress will have to be carefully written,” he said. “She is notoriously proud and prickly.”
“I was hoping you and Gwynneth could help,” Kendryk said. “Between the three of us, we should be able to find the best way to address her.”
“I have no doubt we can. Shall I have a dungeon cell made ready at Birkenfels?” Faris asked.
Kendryk frowned. “I don’t want him in the dungeon. There’s no one else at the castle, and it’s still easy to guard. The cells are so cold and damp that prisoners often die of a pleurisy sooner or later, and I want him alive at the trial.”
Kendryk motioned the guards on either side of Landrus to bring him forward, then waved them off, so they might speak alone. Faris dropped back discreetly.
Kendryk smiled at Landrus. “I told you I might have to arrest you though it’s happened sooner than I had hoped.”
“You are a man of your word.” Landrus returned his smile. “Although I confess to doubting your ability to remove me from Julia’s clutches.
“I doubted it too,” Kendryk said, then told him about the proposed trial in Isenwald, provided everyone agreed.
The priest’s smile faded. “Flavia Maxima. She and I are not on the best terms.”
“I tried for Octavius, but Julia felt that the empress would never agree. It seems you’ve already created quite a stir in Atlona.”
“Good. I doubt this will end well for me, in spite of your kind efforts, but the more people who know what is happening and why, the better.”
“I agree.” Kendryk couldn’t see a favorable outcome for Landrus either, but he didn’t want to contemplate that right now. “The Kronland rulers are paying close attention to the way Teodora handles religious disagreements. Everyone expects to be offended. You’ve chosen an interesting time to cause trouble.”
“That’s because it’s the right time, Your Grace,” Landrus said. “I was certain of it when we first spoke, but now I’m even more convinced that everything is happening exactly the way the gods have ordained it. There is no doubt Ercos has chosen you to set all of this in motion.”
“Now you sound like a lunatic.” Kendryk gave a short laugh while remembering his dream with growing dread.
“It does; I realize that. I hope that this change in my situation will allow us more time to talk, so I can explain.”
They were now within sight of Birkenfels. The morning mists had long ago burned off, and its pointed turrets stood in sharp relief against the bright blue sky.
“Pretty castle,” Landrus said. “It looks like some cells might have a view.”
“A few do, but I’m not putting you in a cell.”
“I need no special treatment, although you are kind to offer.”
“It’s not all that special. The dungeons aren’t fit for any human who’s expected to survive. In fact, the castle itself isn’t all that comfortable. There was a good reason my grandfather built Birkenhof as soon as he could raise the funds.”
“You don’t worry about me running off?” Landrus looked amused.
“I don’t.” Kendryk couldn’t say why he trusted this man though he liked to think he was a good judge of character. “I’m sure you can outsmart these guards if you want to. But you’d be far worse off if you escaped and tried to elude all the Temple and imperial troops sent after you.”
“I realize that,” Landrus said, as they crossed the drawbridge and continued up a cobbled road that wound between narrow buildings clinging to the hillside at the castle’s base, their horse’s hoofbeats echoing off the stone. “But more than that, I would never take advantage of your kindness. You’ve gone to great trouble on my behalf, and I would never repay that with betrayal.”
They passed below another raised gate and into the castle courtyard where everyone dismounted.
Count Faris caught Kendryk’s attention. “I’ll order the steward’s rooms prepared for Father Landrus. They were in use more recently than any others, and most of the furnishings ought to be in good repair.”
Kendryk asked Landrus, “Is there anything we can get for you from Runewald? Your clothing, and perhaps some books?”
“Yes, and one particular item, although it will need a trustworthy person to follow specific instructions.”
Kendryk was nearly bursting with curiosity, wondering what Landrus needed that required such care, but knew he had to contain himself until they could speak privately.
Faris waved over a young soldier. “This is Merton. He’s reliable and can read a list if you wish to send one.”
“Excellent,” Kendryk said. “I’ll take Father Landrus to the steward’s office so he can make a list, and Merton can go to Runewald later. Best wait until cover of darkness, in case anyone is observing the priest’s quarters.”
Janna
Anyezka had done well watching the baby, so for the next few days, Janna took Anton with her so they could pick more. No one minded. It was more fun with him and the time flew by as he chattered about horses and becoming a soldier.
One evening, Janna said, “We should start back. I don’t want to be in the woods after dark.” By now, she was braver about leaving the stream, so they were much farther north of the farm. Here, the road ran parallel to the edge of the woods, so they headed straight for it.
“What’s that?” Anton asked.
“What?”
“That noise?”
Janna stopped. There were hoofbeats. A lot of them. Who in the world would come to the farm in such numbers? “Be quiet,” she whispered.
She couldn’t see the road, but could hear the horses as they passed. Weapons and armor clanked while rough voices shouted in a strange language.
“Bandits,” Anton breathed, and started for the road.
Janna caught him by the arm and yanked him back hard. “No, Anton. No. There are too many.”
“But Anyezka,” he began.
“They’ll just steal a few things and leave.” Janna tried to keep her voice from shaking. “I’m sure they wouldn’t hurt a little girl, so let’s sit here until they’re gone.”
But waiting was almost unbearable, and once the horsemen had passed they crept through the bushes until they glimpsed the road.
“Mama.” Anton tugged on her skirt. “Mama, the farm is on fire.”
He scrambled to stand, but she grabbed his arm and didn’t let go, especially once the screaming started. It went on forever, and at last Anton stopped struggling and rolled into her arms, trembling and wetting the front of her dress with tears.
Janna felt frozen with fear, and they lay there a long time until the horsemen came back, whooping and laughing. Janna sat up and pulled Anton back from the edge of the road though they still had a view through a curtain of bushes. There was more foreign chatter, and someone came into view.
The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3 Page 10