The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  Anton gasped, and Janna clapped a hand over his mouth. This time, he didn’t struggle. At the head of the group rode a woman. Her black curls fell in a tangle over a sheepskin coat. While the other men and women laughed she looked around, scanning the edges of the forest. Janna shrank back.

  The woman sniffed the air, then turned and asked a question. A man shook his head. She looked in Janna’s direction again, and Janna was certain her eyes were yellow, like an animal’s. She sniffed again, shrugged and urged her horse on. Neither Janna nor Anton breathed until they were well down the road.

  “What was that?” Anton was still shaking.

  “Raiders, I suppose.”

  “No, that woman,” Anton said. “She had awful eyes.”

  “Yes, she did.” Janna took a few deep breaths. “Anton, stay here while I go to the farm. I’ll come get you after I’ve made sure it’s safe.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head wildly. “You can’t leave me alone. Not like Papa did. He left and didn’t come back. If you go, I’m coming with you.”

  “Anton …” Janna didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to go there alone, but more than that, she didn’t want him to see whatever it was they might find.

  He wiped his tears and looked her in the eye. “I am big enough, Mama.”

  “Yes, I suppose you are.” Janna took his hand, and they stepped out of the woods.

  The house was still on fire. Flames licked out of the windows and blazed through the thatched roof from the hayloft. The first bodies they saw were those of Bora and Seko. The raiders had cut them down where they stood.

  Janna forced herself to keep going. She tried to put every thought out of her mind except for Anyezka. Finding her was the only thing that mattered now.

  Closer to the house, they found Disla. That was worse. Her throat had been cut and her skirt pushed up around her waist.

  “Don’t look, Anton,” Janna said, too late. Fighting nausea, she knelt next to Disla, pulled the skirt down and looked into her staring eyes. Blood pooled around her head.

  “Poor Disla.” Anton was oddly calm. “These were not soldiers. Real soldiers don’t do these things.”

  “Some do.” Janna tried to laugh, but it turned into a sob. She bit her tongue until it bled to keep the tears from coming.

  “Well, when I’m one, I won’t.” Anton scowled, and pulled her up by her arm. “Come on. Let’s find Anyezka.”

  They stood and stared at the house. If anyone was inside, there was no way they could still be alive. Janna thought of the old people unable to get out of their chairs without help and had to push down the sob that rose in her throat. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep from crying.

  “There has to be a way in,” Anton said. “We need to get Anyezka and the baby.”

  “We can’t.” Janna grabbed his shirt in case he ran. She wondered vaguely how he could be so composed. “There’s no way in, at least not until the fire burns out. But maybe Anyezka got away.”

  “Yes, she would run to the back door, if those bad people were in front.” Anton pulled her in that direction. “She would run to the back, and to the woods.”

  They made a wide circle around the house because the heat was so intense. It was impossible to enter the courtyard with the well because great chunks of hay and thatch were falling from the house and from a few of the outbuildings. After skirting those, they came to the edge of the woods. Though it was too dark now to look for footprints, Janna kept hoping.

  It was cool in the woods, dark and damp, and it was a relief to get away from the heat of the fire and its horrible light. They walked in deeper, calling for Anyezka, louder and louder. Perhaps she would come out if she heard their voices. They called until they were hoarse and too tired to stand. Then they curled up together on a mossy spot against a big tree and cried themselves to sleep.

  In the morning, they ate part of the strawberries in their baskets and searched some more. “She wouldn’t go far. Not with the baby.” Janna tried to force herself to accept the worst.

  “We need to search the house.” Anton’s face was grim. It didn’t seem possible he was only nine. “The fire will have stopped by now.”

  “I don’t want to.” Tears ran down her face. Since they’d started last night, she couldn’t seem to stop them.

  “I don’t either. But we have to find out.” He took her hand, and they walked back out of the woods. The fire had died though smoke still rose from what remained of the buildings. Janna and Anton stood across from where the front door had been, then walked slowly around the edges. It was still too hot to get close, and timbers had collapsed into it.

  “It’s too hot to move those,” Anton said.

  “They’d be too heavy for us anyway.” They walked around one more time although by now she was certain that there was no hope. No one had escaped.

  Janna sank to the ground, then lay on her side, finally giving herself over to the tears. Anton sat down next to her and held her hands. When it began raining, he pushed and pulled at her until she stood, then pulled her some more until she stumbled along beside him, down the road toward the town.

  Kendryk

  Kendryk led Landrus into the castle proper, which was dark and cold with an abiding damp clinging to the stone walls. He was glad no one had to live here anymore, at least not for any length of time.

  Another soldier had rushed ahead into the steward’s office and was building a fire as they entered. Kendryk lit a stubby tallow candle and carried it to an enormous desk. “The steward used this last, so there might be old account books with blank pages.”

  After shuffling through cobweb-draped shelves, he pulled out a leather-bound ledger with yellow pages, dust rolling off of it in waves. “Like this.” Kendryk sneezed, then flipped to the back and pulled out a page. He found an inkwell, its ink hard and dry. The soldier had fanned the fire to life, so Kendryk sent him to the well for water.

  “I know it’s awful.” Kendryk realized that the cold, the dust and the tallow stench from the candle formed a stark contrast to the cozy priest’s quarters at the Temple. “I’ll send books up from my library, so you aren’t bored.” He perched on the edge of the desk while they waited for the soldier to return.

  “This is far better than any dungeon. As to boredom, if your man retrieves my things, I’ll have more than enough to occupy me. And with your permission, I’d like to finish my work.”

  “What are you working on?”

  “For the past months I wrote down everything I learned from my study of the Scrolls. Since I might not be here much longer, I’d like to leave a record of what I found. Perhaps someone else can use it.” He gave Kendryk a significant look.

  “What an excellent idea.” This was exactly what Kendryk had hoped for. “In fact, I’d love to read everything. I still have many questions.”

  “I assumed you might, which is why I hope that my copy of the Scrolls can be retrieved.”

  This was the last think Kendryk had expected to hear. “Didn’t Julia’s guards take those away and secure them?”

  “Yes. My official copy will go back to Julia Maxima until my replacement takes office. But I had made my own copy, expecting something like this to happen.”

  Kendryk stared at him, then asked the obvious. “So, you will have a copy of the Holy Scrolls here?” He still couldn’t quite believe it.

  “I hope so,” Landrus said. “And since I should have considerable free time, I plan to translate them into the Kronland tongue, if you will allow it.”

  “Of course I’ll allow it.” Kendryk’s heart pounded though now it was from excitement. Then he remembered it was illegal to possess a copy of the Scrolls without a maxima’s permission. Translation was strictly forbidden. But if it meant he would find the answers he needed, he hoped the gods would forgive him. He’d worry about the Temple authorities another time.

  The soldier came back with a jug of water, and Kendryk waved him out of the room, Once they were alo
ne again he asked, “Is there a chance that, while you’re here, I might look at the Scrolls myself?”

  “I would like nothing better.” Landrus poured a few drops of water into the dried-up ink. “I am convinced that once you read them, you will understand why I’m doing all of this.”

  On the one hand, Kendryk wanted to understand, but on the other, he worried what would happen if he became convinced that Landrus was speaking the whole truth. He would be forced to do something, take some action.

  Landrus had found an old quill and was stirring it around the inkpot. “I don’t know why you believe me now, but something has changed your mind since we last spoke.”

  Kendryk nodded. “I had a dream about what seemed like the last battle and it didn’t go well.”

  “It won’t go well if things continue as they are.” Landrus laid down the quill. “Although you give me a great deal of hope, and once you can read the relevant passages in the Scrolls, you’ll understand why. They tell of a young ruler who will stand against the forces of darkness alone, although in time others will join him as they come to learn the truth. Your dream was a message from the gods, to help you realize that you are the one prophesied.”

  That the gods would choose Kendryk for any work seemed incredible. He still didn’t believe it. “Will the Scrolls show me what I need to do next? Or will the gods perhaps send me another dream?” Kendryk couldn’t help but feel this was far more important now he had committed himself.

  “The gods always give guidance to those who seek the right path; I know you will find it.”

  “I saw many friendly-looking banners in the dream, but they weren’t enough.”

  “No, we will not win the battle through any strength of human arms. But when enough people practice the true faith, the Holy Family will be strong enough to prevail against the darkness. Once you study the Scrolls yourself, you will understand the importance of your role.”

  Kendryk slumped against the desk. His knees felt weak.

  Landrus’s smile was gentle. “Please, don’t worry about it too much just yet. The Scrolls will make much clear.”

  Gwynneth

  On days like today, she often rode toward the river. The usual spring rains had ended at least for a while and the sun was warm though it had just cleared the hilltops. Gwynneth set out at a steady trot, letting the groom fall behind. She would have preferred to have Kendryk along, but he and Count Faris were huddled in his study, mapping out the eventualities should the empress respond unfavorably to his letter.

  Gwynneth didn’t see the point. Kendryk ruled here, and it was his right to handle Temple difficulties as much as it was Julia’s.

  She pulled her horse to a stop as she reached the sharp slope leading to the river. From here, she looked down on the town huddled on its banks and straight across at the castle towering over it. Birkenfels looked beautiful from the outside, though she shuddered at the idea of living in its cramped, drafty interior.

  Instead of riding into the town and along the river, she started up the road that wound below the castle walls. The groom at first went the wrong way but quickly changed course and followed her. Her mare’s shod hooves clanked against the cobblestones as she wound her way up the road. A guard jumped to attention at the main gate.

  “Show me up to Father Landrus,” Gwynneth ordered.

  The man looked flustered. She knew he had orders to let in no one but Kendryk, but since he couldn’t say no to her he saluted and opened the gate. She rode up and up, between the old outbuildings leaning against the walls and clustered at the bottom of the tower. When she reached the main building, she dismounted and tossed the reins toward her groom. Another guard rushed to meet her.

  “I wish to see Father Landrus. Please announce me.” She hoped he was up since it was still early. But the priest was already hard at work in the small castle library.

  Gwynneth entered on the heels of the guard, but Landrus was already standing. He came around the table and met her in the middle of the room. He took her proffered hand and brushed it with his lips while executing a bow worthy of a courtier.

  “I know I’m bursting in on you,” she said, realizing he was waiting for her to speak. She placed her hat on a stack of books, and peeled off her gloves, then sat in a chair placed near the desk. She wondered if that was Kendryk’s usual spot when he came to visit.

  “It is an honor, Princess.” His voice was both pleasant and resonant. No wonder his sermons drew large audiences. Father Landrus’s looks were arresting as well. His face was stern and craggy, making it difficult to decide his age. His eyes were the most interesting; so pale as to be almost neutral, they were also very intense. Gwynneth supposed they were unnerving when directed at someone in censure.

  “I confess I’ve been most eager to meet you.” She offered her most charming smile.

  He smiled back, broad and genuine, transforming his face. It was no wonder Kendryk liked him.

  “Kendryk talks of nothing else these days,” she continued. “Being able to study with you is quite the dream come true for him.”

  “He’s an excellent student.” Landrus returned to his seat behind the desk. “But I’m sure you didn’t come here to discuss your husband’s intellectual prowess.”

  “You’re right.” Gwynneth kept smiling. “I confess to having little interest in theology, though I wish to discuss other matters with you.”

  Landrus nodded.

  “Both of us are worried about your eventual fate. Kendryk seems to believe that the empress can order him to send you to Atlona or Forli, but I disagree.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I looked up his charter myself. The emperor granted it to the rulers of Terragand over three hundred years ago, and one of the freedoms given was that of dealing with the clergy. It wasn’t explicit, but it implied that even a maxima could be overridden.”

  “Interesting. I wasn’t aware of that. I suppose Terragand has a favored position.”

  “It does. And I want Kendryk to take advantage of it.”

  “Any reason he wouldn’t?”

  She bit her lip and wrinkled her nose. “He doesn’t like to offend anyone, and he’s quite frightened of Empress Teodora.”

  “She’s a powerful person to offend.”

  “In theory. In reality, she has her hands full at home and on her eastern borders. If Kendryk acts within his rights, what can she do?”

  “What she did in Moralta. Those princes thought they acted within their rights as well, and they lost their heads for it. I’m sure that’s what concerns Kendryk. Can you blame him?”

  “But I don’t think she can. I’ve been corresponding with the other Kronland rulers, and most agree that Kendryk is well within his rights to deal with you as he sees fit.”

  “That’s encouraging. But are they offering concrete support, should Teodora react badly?”

  “Well, no. And that’s why I’m here. I wish to convince Kendryk to act boldly and perhaps even reinstate you, but I must be sure you will do whatever is required if he should do so.”

  “Of course,” Landrus said. “The moment the prince made me his prisoner, I resolved to do whatever he would have of me.”

  “So if he defies the empress and Julia is upset, you’d be willing to do your work no matter what she might say?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Good. I thought as much, but I wanted to be sure. Kendryk is very loyal, but it never occurs to him that others might not be. I do my best to make sure they are.”

  “Admirable of you.”

  “I hope you aren’t offended. It’s just that I don’t know you and I’m asking Kendryk to take a big risk. I want to protect him as much as I can.”

  “Then we are very much agreed,” Landrus said. “I appreciate all the work you are doing on my behalf, Princess. It matters not your reasons for doing it. If in the end the truth is made stronger, you can be sure you are doing right.”

  “That’s the other thing.” Gwynneth
frowned. “You’ve confused Kendryk quite a bit. It seems you believe he is to take part in some sort of important prophecy?”

  Landrus nodded.

  “This worries him terribly,” she continued. “He doesn’t know what to do. He looks to you for specific instructions, but isn’t receiving them.”

  “I know.” Landrus sighed. “And it pains me a great deal that I can’t be of more comfort and help to him. My confidence comes from the Scrolls, and I’ve shown him the passages, which appear so clear to me. But there’s more than that. I’ve received answers to prayers and I’ve had dreams that confirm what’s in the Scrolls. But those things are harder to use to convince him. In the end, he will need to receive his own answers.”

  “Yes, and I fear he is looking for more mystical and less concrete proofs,” Gwynneth said. “While most rulers have been noncommittal, my own brother and Prince Falk have been quite enthusiastic, yet Kendryk does not see that as a sign he is to move forward. He’s looking for something far more strange and spectacular than mere letters.”

  “You are right. And while it’s frustrating, I can’t blame him for wanting certainty.”

  “Yes. He has taken risks, but they are usually carefully calculated. The lack of calculation in the situation is difficult for him to accept.”

  “I wish I had a better response for you. All I can say is that I’ll keep trying to show him the way, and promise to stand beside him whatever decision he takes.”

  “That’s all I can ask then,” Gwynneth said, standing and reaching for her hat. “I will speak to Kendryk before he comes up here later. Maybe between the two of us, we can persuade him.”

  Janna

  The crossroads inn was a welcome sight. Janna hated to ask for help again, but had no choice.

  Maya, the owner, was watering geraniums in a pot by the door. “Why, it’s you again,” she said, her pleasant face creased in a smile. “You and your boy. Don’t you have a little girl, too?”