Janna burst into tears.
“Oh dear,” the woman said. “Something dreadful’s happened, hasn’t it? We’ve heard the most terrible stories these past few days.”
“She’s dead,” Anton said, as Janna tried to gulp down her sobs. “That woman killed her. The one with the yellow eyes.”
“Gods protect us.” Maya made the sign of the Father. “Why don’t you come inside and tell me what happened.”
Janna didn’t see the point since she couldn’t speak. Even once the tears subsided, they came back the moment she opened her mouth. It was hopeless.
At least Anton was tougher. While Maya bustled about, bringing fresh bread and beer, he told her what had happened at the farm.
She shook her head. “No question that was Daciana Tomescu. She and her band rode past here in the middle of the night and no one so much as breathed. No one dares even look at her, or she’ll kill them.”
“I was afraid she’d see us,” Anton admitted. “I think she could tell we were there. It was like she could smell us. But she didn’t do anything.”
“And right you are to be afraid of such a creature. They say she’s a friend of the empress, but I can’t imagine a godly woman like Her Highness having anything to do with someone so dreadful.”
Janna realized how hungry she was, and when she’d had something to eat and drink, she felt better. Maya was as kind as before even though inn was busy, with many travelers on the road.
“My kitchen maid up and left with a soldier last week.” Maya shook her head. “You can have her room for a few days.”
Janna slept long in the soft little bed in the bright, tidy room, but her dreams were full of fire and blood and yellow animal eyes. It was a relief to wake up in the tavern, which was about a hundred times nicer than the farm, as Anton put it.
Out of habit, she listened for Anyezka’s voice, piping in over Anton’s chatter. She didn’t like to be left out of any conversation. It took a moment to realize that Anyezka was gone, dead, and Janna had failed her simplest task—keeping Dimir’s children safe. Anton paused when she started crying into the pillow, and then she heard him clatter down the stairs.
A few minutes later, Maya sat on the edge of the bed, stroking Janna’s hair just like she used to stroke Anyezka’s when she cried. “Cry all you want,” she said. “It’s the hardest thing, losing a child, especially such a little one.”
“She’s not even mine.” Janna wiped her tears and turned on her side. “But I married her father when she was a few months old and she feels like mine. Felt like mine.”
“Of course she did. You were the only mother she knew, and you were a good one. It’s not much comfort, but you know she’s gone to live with the Holy Mother along with all the other little ones who die. Things are better there for her, so much better than here.”
“I hope so.” Janna forced herself to sit. “I can’t think what to do next.”
“You don’t have to do anything right now. Get some rest, and we can talk about it later.”
After Maya had gone, Janna cried a little longer. She wanted to stay in that lovely bed and never move again, though she had to find a way to take care of Anton. But she hadn’t been able to protect Anyezka; how could she do any better for her brother? The thoughts circled in her head until she fell asleep again.
While Janna slept, Anton had made himself useful in the stable, brushing and feeding traveler’s horses. By the time two days had passed, Janna knew she also had to do something in return for Maya’s hospitality.
“You can bring food to the tables,” Maya said. “Don’t worry about taking orders since the other girl can do that. But it would help if we can get things out faster so we can feed more.”
Janna didn’t mention her fear of speaking to strangers. As it was, she didn’t have to say much. The inn was busy that night, and the hours flew by as she ran back and forth between the dining room and the kitchen. Many of the travelers came from, or were going to Kaleva. It seemed things had settled down, almost back to normal. Janna hoped her own family and the Kalinas were well.
It might be safe to go back. She would use her maiden name and no one of her acquaintance would breathe a word about Dimir’s short-lived political career. With any luck, leaving Kaleva, the dreadful farm and the even more horrible things that happened there would fade into memory. Right now she couldn’t think about Anyezka without the tears welling up, but perhaps that would get better, too.
She had delivered a trencher to a table when someone grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap. “Now here’s a pretty thing,” the man roared. His face was too close to hers and his breath stank of ale. Janna froze. “Oh come now, sweetheart,” he bounced her on his knee. “No need to be unfriendly.”
Janna shrieked and leapt up with such force he fell off the bench. She ran to the kitchen, followed by good-natured shouts and roars of laughter.
“Don’t pay ‘em no mind,” Maya said. “I box their ears and they get the picture. Oh come now, dear. They meant no harm.”
“I know.” Janna tried to breathe between sobs. Her breath was shallow and coming too fast and her head spun. “I just. I just can’t.”
Maya took her by the arm and led her to a chair. “Sit down now and catch your breath. It’s all right. Why don’t you stay in the kitchen for the rest of the evening? By now, there’s nothing left but bread and stew. You can dish up as well as I can. I’ll handle that lot out there.”
Janna had trouble sleeping that night. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw men leering in her face. But they weren’t the ones from downstairs. They were the ones who’d accosted her on the road. That was her greatest fear now; that she would run into similar people on the way back to Kaleva. And this time, she would have no coin to distract them.
Kendryk
Kendryk’s days were busier than they’d ever been. As Terragand’s ruling seat, Birkenhof had a steady stream of visitors and petitioners. A rotation of neighboring aristocrats constantly occupied the guest wing, and foreign dignitaries traveling through Kronland always stopped to pay their respects.
Today, Kendryk was free by early afternoon. There were several guests to be entertained and endless administrative work, but he left the former to Gwynneth and the latter in Count Faris’s capable hands.
He rode out by himself, skirting newly planted fields and traveling along rows of budding trees before reaching the river. Behind the castle, vineyards climbed the steep hillsides in terraces. Wine had grown here for hundreds of years and the vintages produced were among the finest in the empire.
But right now, Kendryk cared little for wine. He sought answers, and they could only be found inside the castle, if they were to be found at all. His horse knew the way well by now, for he came here most days. Guards at the gates at the foot of the hill saluted as he went by, and those in the courtyard sprang to help with his horse.
He climbed the narrow winding staircase, pulling off his gloves as he went. The study door was ajar, so Kendryk walked in unannounced. Landrus looked up from his work. “I didn’t expect to see you today, Your Grace. The guards told me you had more visitors than usual.”
“No one special.” Kendryk laid his hat on a stack of books and sat in his usual chair. By now, they were easy and informal with each other, like old friends. “Gwynneth can entertain them.” He pulled his chair closer to the desk and opened a book, where he had a place marked.
“Eager to get to it, aren’t you?” Landrus said. “I confess you are the best pupil I’ve ever had. Benet must have been sorry to lose you.”
“Not as sorry as I was to leave him.” Kendryk closed the book again.
“You weren’t happy to return to your family?”
“Not under the circumstances. I’d been very young when I went to Galladium, but Prince Gauvain became like an older brother to me, and Benet like a father. Leaving them was far worse than leaving here. But I understood why my family needed me, so I did what I had to.”
/> “You’ve always done that, haven’t you?” Landrus’s intense eyes softened. “I think most rulers are conscious of their burden, but few take it on so young.”
“I suppose not. But then, I was never much like the other fellows my age, with the need to spend years wenching and drinking before taking on my responsibilities. I was always interested in Terragand, and how I might make it a better place for its people. With Gwynneth and the children my life is perfect for me. I don’t think I’d trade it now for a dusty theologian’s study.” Kendryk looked around the room and laughed. “Although it seems I’ve acquired one of those as well.”
“It seems so. Well, I for one am glad you weren’t out carousing that day in Runewald. I feel very safe here, and quite unworried about what is coming.”
“How is that possible?” Kendryk couldn’t quite keep the agitation out of his voice. “I worry about nothing else. And it’s not even my life at stake. It’s yours.” He paused and tried to calm himself. “I can’t make any decisions until I hear from the empress, but I’m terrified of what her response might be. What if she orders me to send you to Atlona? I can’t do it. But I also don’t see how I can disobey her direct order, no matter what Gwynneth thinks my rights are.”
“Have you received a reply yet?”
Kendryk shook his head. “Even a fast courier will only reach Atlona today at the earliest. I imagine it could take several days, or even weeks, for the empress to respond.”
“Until you receive a reply, there is nothing you can do. Take it as a gift from the gods that you have these weeks to study and pray. As diligent as you are, they will not fail to give you guidance.”
“I just wish they would give it more quickly.” Kendryk hoped he didn’t sound as petulant as he felt. “I had hoped that within days of reading these texts I would understand everything.”
“I’d hoped so too, but what seems clear to me is still concealed from you, at least for a little while.”
Kendryk sighed. “The Scrolls mention a ruler who will defend the truth, but they say only that he will be young and from the north. Couldn’t he be Prince Ossian, or my brother-in-law, or King Lennart? Why does it have to be me?”
“No one else has stepped forward in defense of the truth. That is all the proof I need.” He made it sound so simple.
“Very well. So let’s suppose I am that ruler. The Scrolls say nothing further except he is to be present at the final battle, along with the prophet who will bring the truth. I suppose that’s you. Does that mean I have no choice except to fight the empress?”
And that was it right there: Kendryk’s worst nightmare. A peaceful split from the empire was one thing, but a war could only end in disaster for Terragand.
“I don’t know.” Landrus was as patient as if he were talking to a child. “You wish for peaceful ways to do all of this, and it ought to be possible. But much depends on Teodora right now.”
“But suppose Teodora agrees to my request to have you tried in Isenwald. Then what? In the normal course of things, you would still be found guilty of heresy and executed. I don’t see how that gets us any closer to bringing the truth to the people of the empire.” By now, the thought of losing Landrus felt unbearable.
“Perhaps that will be my fate,” Landrus said, “although I doubt it. Much can happen before a trial, and much can happen during one. That is why I’m not worried. And even if the empress orders me to Atlona, I can bring the truth to many people before then. With your help, of course.”
“What can I do?” Kendryk hoped for a concrete and specific task.
“Get these to a printer.” Landrus picked up a thick sheaf of papers.
“You’ve finished the translation?”
“No, I’ve barely started. But I realize that I might not have time to finish such a large task. It will take years and may be a work that you or someone else will have to continue. In the meantime however, we can make sure that people everywhere learn the truth. I’ve written out the most important teachings in simple language, along with a few of my most popular sermons. If you can print several hundred copies and send them throughout the land, change may well overtake our other plans. How can these best be distributed into all the towns?”
Kendryk eagerly took the pile and leafed through it. “I’m not sure. I will start with Runewald since many of the leading citizens there support you. They will put these sheets in every public place and see that they’re read aloud.”
Kendryk hardly dared hope that reform might come about naturally. He might not have to do anything at all.
Janna
The next morning, Janna and Maya cleaned the dining room before guests arrived at midday. Janna told her of her plans to leave soon.
“There’s no rush,” Maya said. “I’d give you steady work if I could, but most times we’re not so busy as last night. Of course, you’re welcome to stay longer if you need to.”
“I think the sooner we go, the better. I’m not much use to you since I’m not cut out to serve in a tavern and can’t cook. It’s better just to get back to my parents. As it is, I can’t thank you enough.”
“No need. It’s nice having you about. And the groom says that boy of yours is a great help. A real natural with the horses.”
“Oh, he loves working there. I hate to take him back to the city. I’d send him to work at a livery stable if he wanted, but I’m sure his grandfather will make him go to school. He won’t like that.”
“He’ll have the rest of his life to work. It’s good if he goes to school. Maybe he’ll go into business like his father.” Maya stood up from her scrubbing and peered out the window facing the road. “Looks like an imperial courier. Wonder if he has any interesting news for us. No doubt he’ll need a fresh horse.”
Janna wanted to hide, but that was ridiculous. No one knew who she was. The courier had disappeared to the stable and Maya said, “He’ll be wanting something to eat. You can bring it to him and hear his news.”
Janna swallowed hard.
“Oh come now. This fellow will be a different sort. Not just anyone can become an imperial courier. He’ll mind his manners and if I know his type, he’ll cut it high and mighty with us. No need to worry about him grabbing your bottom.”
Janna hoped Maya was right and followed her to the kitchen.
By the time she came back out with a loaf of fresh bread and a flagon of beer, the man was settling in at a table. He glanced at Janna without interest though his face lit up at the sight of the mug. “Ah, Maya’s beer is the best between here and Sanova.” He took a long drink, then wiped the foam from his mustache. “I suppose you’ll be wanting the news.”
Janna nodded.
“Can you read?” He rummaged in his bag.
She nodded again.
“Good. Save me time. Here.” He pulled a paper from a large stack he had in his bag. “These are going up in every town square in Moralta. Tell Maya she may as well put one up here, too. That’s all that’s new. Now run along and tell Maya to bring me a pile of that roast chicken she always has on Tuesdays.”
Janna nodded again and fled to the kitchen. While Maya set to carving the chicken, Janna read the paper. Her heart fell into her feet. By the time Maya returned from the dining room. she’d found a place to sit.
“Goodness, child. What’s wrong?”
“It’s this.” Janna handed her the sheet.
Maya looked it over. “Now see here, just because there’s a Janna on the list doesn’t mean it’s you.”
“But it is me,” Janna said in a small voice. “I’m Janna Kronek, and Anton is Dimir’s son, so they want him too.”
“Now that’s just ridiculous.” Maya laid a comforting hand on Janna’s shoulder. “Anyone could take one look at you and see you’re no threat to anyone, least of all the empress.”
“Of course I’m no threat. But I’m sure none of the other families on that list are either. I suppose it wasn’t enough to make an example of Dimir and the others. She wants to make
sure no one remains to take revenge. As if Anton or I ever would. Or could.” The realization came too late. “I understand if you want to turn us in. It’s a lot of money.”
“What sort of monster do you take me for? You’re less rebellious than those chickens out in the yard.” Maya frowned and folded up the paper. “I’m a loyal subject to Her Highness, but in this matter, I know better. You stay put for now, dear. No one else knows who you are, and I won’t put this up until you’re well away from here.”
“But I can’t go to Kaleva now,” Janna said, a second realization dawning on her. “They’ll be looking for me there, especially around my family. I have to leave, but I can’t go there.” She buried her face in her hands.
“No need to panic,” Maya said. “You stay in the kitchen while I take care of the lunch crowd. I already have an idea but I’ll work it out this afternoon. In the meantime, don’t you worry. “
Kendryk
“Your Grace.” Count Faris opened the study door. “It’s here.”
Kendryk jumped up and hurried to take the leather pouch from Faris’s hand. As he had hoped, and dreaded, it bore the imperial stamp. He pulled out an inner pouch, also of leather, then an envelope of canvas with a wax seal. He made an impatient noise, rushed back to his desk and rummaged for a letter knife. When he got through it all, there was one sheet inside, also closed with a seal. Kendryk broke it and slumped back into his chair. Count Faris sat down across from him.
The salutation, with all of Teodora’s and Kendryk’s various titles, was longer than the message itself. After all, there wasn’t much to be said. Kendryk looked up. “Please send for the princess.”
While waiting for her, Kendryk read it through again, just to be sure. He was glad that Faris was a patient sort and didn’t badger him for the contents. He wasn’t altogether prepared to discuss them.
The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3 Page 12