The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  “I use my hands. And I’ve already learned a few words. My friend Ezmer and I are teaching each other.”

  Janna watched him run off to his friend. Then she smiled and nodded at a woman sitting in a wagon that had drawn up next to her. The woman patted the seat beside her and reached down. Easy enough to understand. Janna took her hand and jumped into the slow-moving wagon. The woman chattered while Janna smiled and nodded some more, without understanding a word. The woman didn’t seem to mind.

  When it came time to stop for a meal, Janna offered some of her food, and they took it up willingly enough. They ate a strange type of chewy, but tasty flat bread with meat so spicy it made Janna’s eyes water.

  They stayed with them for two days, but the crossroads to Olvisya came much too soon. Janna and Anton continued on their way after waving goodbye to the little caravan.

  “I liked them,” Anton said. “I want to live with them. Travel in a wagon all the time and see the world.”

  “You are seeing the world.” Janna took his hand.

  “Yes, but not in a fun way.”

  She couldn’t argue with that.

  Gwynneth

  Gwynneth was sure it wouldn’t be long before Kendryk came to her, so she returned to the library to begin her preparations for the journey. They had little time, but it was important to keep up appearances. She wouldn’t have Teodora thinking her decision to appear had taken them by surprise.

  She dictated a letter to Halvor; he would send copies to all the Kronland rulers. While he scribbled furiously to keep up, she sent her ladies in all directions to pack.

  When Kendryk appeared, he looked so pale and exhausted, Gwynneth wondered if he was ill. Was the prospect of meeting the empress upsetting him? “Sit down, darling. You look done in.”

  He dropped into a seat near the window. “I’m glad you’re so organized. I don’t feel I can do anything right now.”

  “Halvor, please leave us.” She waited for the door to close behind him, then joined Kendryk on the bench. “You don’t have to do anything right now. We have a few days to get ready and all you have to decide is which of the guards you’re taking. I’ll do the rest.”

  Kendryk tried to smile, but clearly couldn’t. She looked at him more closely. “Oh. You’re upset, aren’t you? Wasn’t this the answer you wanted?”

  “It is, it was. I realize it’s a tactical victory, but I’m still worried about the trial. No one is ever found innocent in these things.”

  Gwynneth waved away a maid who had slipped inside the door holding a stack of linens, then turned back to Kendryk. “No, I don’t suppose they are. I confess I hadn’t thought that far, beyond imagining how angry it would make everyone. But yes, losing Father Landrus would be dreadful.” Kendryk had already lost his parents and brother; he didn’t deserve to lose this friend.

  He shook his head. “I can’t bear the idea. I’ve learned so much from him. And while I still don’t understand everything, I’m sure he’s right and we need to make changes. If he’s killed, I don’t see how we will do that.”

  “There might be others who can carry on his work.” That had to be scant comfort, but she couldn’t say anything else because he was right. It was doubtful that Father Landrus would leave the trial a free man.

  “Perhaps; though I’m sure the Temple will silence any others if he’s executed.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Her mind whirled. There had to be a solution.

  “It doesn’t seem right that a big trial with an execution at the end is how this will end. How can this be the will of the gods?”

  “It seems impossible, doesn’t it?”

  They sat in silence for a moment. Then it struck her. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She grabbed his hand in her excitement and waited until he looked her in the eye. “I have an idea, but you might not like it.”

  “I won’t know until you tell me.”

  “What if Father Landrus escapes?”

  “Now?” His tone was incredulous, but she watched hope flicker in his eyes.

  “As soon as possible. We can manage it in the next few days, I’m sure.”

  “But then what? He’ll be caught by someone like my uncle if he’s out there on his own.”

  “He won’t go by himself. He could take a ship to Norovaea. I’m sure my father would welcome him.”

  “Oh! You’re right. I don’t dislike the idea as much as you might expect. It will anger the empress, but at worst, she can accuse me of careless guarding, which I’m guilty of in any case.”

  “Exactly!” Gwynneth smiled in triumph. “We’ll say he had Norovaean supporters who helped him. Maybe they infiltrated the guards. That’s not a lie, either. I’m sure he has supporters in Norovaea.”

  “It’s true that the timing is awkward since we’ve already received Teodora’s message. But if she wants troops from me, she shouldn’t ask too many questions.” Kendryk’s eyes lit up and now she was sure he would agree with her plan.

  “That’s right.” Gwynneth couldn’t stop smiling. “Now, go tell Father Landrus to be ready to travel in a day or two. We can arrange a boat to pick him up in the middle of the night, just in time to meet the next ship to sail out of Kaltental for Norovaea.”

  “That’s perfect. I’ll go see him right away.” Kendryk grabbed one of her hands and kissed it before rushing out of the room.

  Gwynneth was pleased to see him so happy, but it was even more gratifying to picture Teodora’s reaction when she learned her prey had escaped her clutches.

  Janna

  They met no one else on the road, so as the sun sank low, Janna and Anton found a quiet spot near a brook. There were no woods, but there was long grass and thick bushes by the roadside. If they laid down, no one on the road would see them. Between their cloaks and the blanket Maya had given them, they slept warm and stayed off the damp ground.

  By morning, Janna felt almost optimistic. They’d be in a town tonight, behind walls, in a real house, someplace they could stay for a while.

  The day was warm, and the road stretched empty ahead of them. It was noon before they met a peddler going the other way. “Where you bound?” he asked.

  “Trepol,” Janna said.

  “Wouldn’t go that way if I was you.” The man shook his head.

  “Why ever not?” Janna’s heart sank.

  “Not sure. But there’s rumors of trouble.”

  “There’s trouble everywhere,” Anton said.

  “Oh-ho, you’ve got that right, my boy. With any luck, the trouble hasn’t reached Trepol from Marjatya and if you can get there, you’ll be safe inside the walls.”

  “We’ll hurry,” Janna said, and they picked up their pace.

  It was near dusk when they saw the walls of the city. She felt relieved, but worried because they hadn’t seen anyone all afternoon. About a league from the walls, they came upon a small encampment. Anton went ahead to see if it was safe. “They’re merchants. All dressed like Papa. I’m sure they’ll be nice.”

  Before either one of them could speak, one man said, “If you’re headed to Trepol, don’t bother.”

  “Why not?” Anton asked.

  “Gates are shut tight. No one gets in, or leaves.”

  Janna made a small noise of consternation.

  “Got that right, miss,” another man said. “We’d go back the way we came, but there’s trouble there too. Soldiers coming up the road from Marjatya.”

  “Oh dear.” Janna sank into the grass. Now she realized how tired she was. “What will we do?”

  “Go back the way you came if you ask me. We’re heading east in the morning. There’s another town where we might unload these goods.” He waved at a small train of wagons standing nearby.

  Anton sat down next to her. “It’s all right, Mama. Maya will help us. You’ll just have to get used to working at the inn.”

  “I suppose I will,” Janna said. Then a terrible thought struck her. “Will we be safe out here tonight?”


  “Safe enough, I should think,” the man said. “Soldiers make enough noise, we’ll know when they get here, and the town will toll the warning bells in any case. Might as well stay here tonight, head back in the morning.”

  Janna nodded, unsure if it was safe to stay with these men, but they seemed uninterested in her, soon turning back to their talk of where to go next and what they might find there. She and Anton shared the food she had left and wrapped themselves up in their cloaks. She tried to keep one ear open for the bells, but all was silent, except for crickets chirping in the bushes. The men all fell asleep before she did.

  It was barely light when she awoke, but then it was to the tolling of the bells. She usually liked the sound of temple bells, but these seemed dark and threatening. She scrambled to get up and shook Anton awake. The merchants were stirring as well and hurried to get donkeys hitched to the wagons. “Best of luck to you, miss,” one of them said, as Janna got ready to go. “The soldiers will spend some time trying to get into town, so that should give you a head start.”

  Fear sped them on their way, and after a while, they no longer heard the bells, or anyone else.

  “Is that a goat?” Anton asked after they’d been walking for about an hour.

  “What? Where?”

  “Right there,” Anton pointed. There was a large brown goat eating grass nearby, a torn piece of rope hanging around its neck.

  “It must have gotten away from someone,” Janna said. “I’m sure they’ll want it back. Shall we try to catch it?” It would give them some occupation while she thought of what to do.

  The goat had no intention of being caught, and they soon chased it into a field. There was no one else on the road, so Janna thought it must belong to a nearby farm. She saw a small house in the distance. Perhaps they could get a drink of water since the day would be warm.

  Anton had chased the goat further into the field when his head disappeared beneath the pale green stalks of barley.

  “Anton?” Janna looked around, trying not to panic.

  He popped back up a moment later, with a shout of triumph and a bit dirtier. He’d caught the end of the rope.

  “Good boy.” Janna tried to hide her relief. It wouldn’t do to let Anton know how terrified she was to let him out of her sight. “Let’s take it to that house.”

  Before they’d reached the house, they knew it was the right one. An old woman paced in front, calling for Tipi. Janna presumed that was the goat.

  “We have him,” Anton called, waving.

  “Why thank you.” The old woman turned toward him, a smile wreathing her wrinkled face. “That awful Tipi is always escaping.”

  “The rope is broken,” Anton explained.

  “He chews through them all eventually,” the woman said. “My granddaughter used to herd the goats for me, but she went off to the city with the rest of the family.”

  “To Trepol?” Janna asked.

  “No, to Pemris, off east.”

  “Trepol is under attack,” Janna said. “We were headed there, but now I’m not sure where we’ll go.”

  The woman looked at the two of them for a long moment, then asked, “Why don’t you stay here for a while? I could use some help. The farm is too much for me. I’ve got a little food and I’ll share it if you can help me through the harvest. Then we’ll see.”

  Janna looked at Anton. He scratched the goat’s head while it chewed on his shirt, a blissful expression on its face. “Oh Mama, please, can we stay?” He looked at the old woman. “I’ll watch all your animals for you.”

  “I don’t know anything about farming,” Janna said.

  “Never mind that. It’s just a lot of hoeing right now and you can learn that quickly enough. Come harvest we might get help from any neighbors who are still about.”

  Janna looked at Anton, back at the old woman and the tidy little cottage behind her. A pot of red and white petunias stood next to the stoop. The inn was safe, but Janna had dreaded the idea of working there again. The work here might be harder, but there was no one besides the old woman.

  “All right then,” she said. “We’ll stay through the harvest.”

  Braeden

  Braeden shifted unhappily. The time he’d spent in the dungeon was the longest he’d ever been out of the saddle since he was nine years old. He hadn’t realized you could become unaccustomed to it. Still, the saddle sores weren’t as painful as his overall situation.

  The empress had taken one look at him after his release and decided she wanted him for a bodyguard. “He looks very frightening,” she said gleefully. “He’ll stand behind me at all times, in full armor. I can see why Daciana wanted me to get rid of him, but that would be a waste. She’s so competitive.”

  “Competitive?” Braeden couldn’t help himself. “I’d say she’s—” He got a sharp elbow in the ribs from Franca and stopped.

  Teodora jumped off her horse and stood across from him. He knew he should bow but didn’t want to, though he got another elbow from Franca. The empress was tall and more attractive than he’d expected. Braeden had pictured an evil witch, with a long pointed nose and large moles, but though her nose was rather large, it was not pointed, and it fit the rest of her face well. She had large dark eyes, prominent cheekbones and a strong chin to go with it all. It was a good face for an empress, but it didn’t make Braeden like her any better.

  She didn’t seem to mind his lack of bowing and scraping. “The dungeon didn’t work on you, did it?” She laughed, showing large, even teeth. To Braeden’s relief, none appeared to be fangs.

  “Seems not,” he said, adding, “Your Highness,” before he got another jab from Franca.

  “That’s all right.” She shrugged. “I can put you to better use. How would you like to go to Isenwald with me?”

  Now here he was, in a position most courtiers could only dream of. It was a shame he didn’t care for politics because he was getting a close view of the inner workings of the empire. He had to admit that Teodora took her position seriously and worked hard. Even though she was on horseback all day, she never stopped answering an endless stream of letters and issuing even more orders. If Braeden had ever harbored ambitions to rule—which he hadn’t—seeing what it took would soon have soured him on the notion.

  Within a few days, he was beyond boredom. Prince Novitny had stayed behind with Franca and Miro to help bolster Atlona’s defenses. Reno was good company, but he spent his spare time with his wife and the two daughters he’d brought with him.

  The evenings were the worst. Teodora always hosted a feast at huge trestle tables set up in the middle of camp. More often than not, as her head of security, Braeden had to sit near her. He was sure she insisted on it just to torture him.

  “So, Commander.” She grinned at him, showing all of her large teeth. “How are you finding the journey?”

  Everyone nearby looked at him with interest. Anyone singled out by the empress might be worthy of cultivating.

  “Well enough. Haven’t seen so many trees in a good while.”

  Everyone tittered.

  Teodora looked around still smiling. “True, Kronland is known for its forests. But I was rather wondering what you thought of the company. I’m sure you are not used to traveling with so many beautiful ladies.”

  “No, I am not.” Braeden tried to look interested. While some of the ladies were pretty, Braeden knew they were not for him and gave them little attention.

  “I imagine it’s quite a treat.” Teodora smirked.

  He wondered if she was fishing for a compliment and this was his cue to say something gallant. In that case, she’d picked the wrong man for a dinner companion.

  “It is.” He nodded. “The company is excellent. And so is the wine.” He raised his glass. That seemed to be the right thing to do because everyone tittered some more by way of agreement. Then someone proposed a toast to Her Highness and to the success of her mission.

  After that, Teodora spoke with others though she often smiled in Brae
den’s direction. He shifted in his seat, wishing he could be anywhere else. The woman was paying him far more attention than her own husband.

  The imperial consort, Prince Raynard, sat straight across from Braeden, looking unhappy. Braeden didn’t know why Teodora was ignoring him. The prince was a tall, handsome fellow with hair falling in golden waves to his shoulders and eyes the color of cornflowers. The gossip was that he and Teodora both took other lovers and hadn’t been seen in each other’s quarters since the birth of their youngest child. If Teodora had a favorite, Braeden couldn’t puzzle out who it could be. He saw no likely young man in the party.

  The horrible thought struck him that perhaps she was grooming him for the position. Braeden shuddered.

  “Are you all right, sir?” asked a pretty lady-in-waiting sitting next to him. Brytta Prosnitz was one of Teodora’s secretaries and the one she shouted at the most. Brytta seemed to spend much of her time near tears, and they sometimes overflowed when Teodora slapped and pinched her.

  Braeden put on a smile for her. “I am. Too much wine.”

  “It’s the only way to survive these meals.” She grimaced as she finished her glass and held it out for a servant to pour more.

  “I’ve noticed that. How far are we from Isenwald, anyway?”

  “About two days. But then it will be at least another two to get to Kronfels.”

  “That seems much too long.”

  “It’s quite far though we are making good time. The empress is eager to arrive there before Prince Kendryk. She’s worried that Princess Kasbirk will offer her palace to him, instead of Her Highness.” Brytta’s voice dropped to a whisper. “That would be dreadfully insulting, and would start things off worse than they are already.”

  Kendryk

  Kendryk was at the castle within twenty minutes. Landrus looked up from his desk, surprised, and quickly rose.