The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  “No, please sit.” Kendryk flung himself into his usual chair and tried to catch his breath.

  “Has news come?” Landrus asked.

  “The empress has agreed to a trial in Isenwald.”

  “I’m surprised. But better than the alternative.” Landrus appeared calm as always. Kendryk didn’t know how he managed it.

  “Is it? Now it’s here as a real possibility, I don’t much like it. We’ll be well-prepared for the trial and bring many witnesses on your behalf, but I’m not sure it will be enough.”

  “A verdict of innocence would be unprecedented.”

  “Yes. I’d hoped under the current restless political climate, Flavia might be pressured into lenience. But Teodora is to appear personally and I’m sure Flavia will find that far more compelling.”

  “So Teodora is coming? Interesting.” Landrus seemed pleased.

  Kendryk leaned forward and dropped his voice. “I’ve discussed it with the princess, and we’ve decided we can’t take the risk of losing you.”

  “You’re very kind.” Landrus seemed amused. “But I’m not sure you can do much more than you already have.”

  “But we can. We will help you escape to Norovaea.”

  “Now?” Landrus looked like he was ready to burst out laughing.

  “In the next day or two. A ship sails from Kaltental in three days and we want you on it. We are sure King Andres will welcome you with a personal recommendation from his daughter.”

  “The two of you amaze me. I am very touched you would take such care for my person, but I’m afraid I must decline.”

  “Why?” Kendryk was baffled. “This is the perfect solution. You can continue your work in Norovaea, and I’m sure in time, the climate will improve here so you can return.”

  “Forgive me if I don’t share in your optimism,” Landrus said. “If I leave, I fear that will be the end of any meaningful change for the Faith in Terragand.”

  “But I’ll continue to spread your work here. It won’t be that much different from you being here.”

  “No, I’m sorry, but it won’t be the same.” Landrus’s eyes glowed in an unsettling fashion. “The gods have been clear on this point. My work is in Terragand, and perhaps in the rest of Kronland later. I can do no good in Norovaea.”

  Kendryk shook his head. “How will it be different if you’re tried and executed in just a few weeks’ time? How will that help change the Faith in Terragand?”

  “I don’t know.” Landrus shrugged. “It’s possible my death will help kindle some greater changes. That’s happened before.”

  Kendryk’s heart pounded in his throat. “I just can’t accept that. Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I don’t want you to die if I can prevent it.”

  “I understand. I don’t want to die either. But I must do what the gods require of me, or there’s no point in any of this.”

  “So you won’t let us help you escape?”

  “No, I won’t. I’m sorry.”

  Kendryk swallowed hard, surprised at the anger welling up inside him. “You realize I could just force you to escape. Have armed men carry you off.”

  “I suppose you could.” Landrus looked amused again.

  “But I won’t.” Kendryk sighed. “And it seems you know it.” He hated being so predictable.

  “It would be out of character for you, true.”

  It was irritating that Landrus was so untroubled by the thought of his own death. And a painful death, at that.

  “Well, I suppose that’s it then.” Kendryk felt deflated. “We’ll be ready to leave for Isenwald in a few days. Would you prefer to go on horseback, or shall I prepare a wagon for you? There doesn’t seem to be much point in having you heavily guarded.”

  “I’ll go on horseback. Maybe we’ll be able to talk on the way.”

  “I’d like that,” Kendryk said. After taking his leave and making his way back down the stairs, he realized that the journey would probably be the last chance they’d have to talk, ever. It didn’t seem possible that this was what the gods intended.

  Braeden

  Within a few days, the empress and her entourage were on the outskirts of Kronfels, the site of Isenwald’s largest temple and seat of Flavia Maxima. Princess Viviane Kasbirk, Isenwald’s ruler, lived in a great palace nearby which she had placed at Teodora’s disposal. Braeden would have preferred a tent pitched somewhere at a safe distance, but as her head of security he couldn’t ever be more than shouting distance from the empress.

  After two days, word came that the Terragand delegation was arriving, with the priest who was to be tried.

  “We shall meet them in the temple square,” Teodora said. She spent the next two hours changing into a very elaborate dress of stiff red brocade with a collar of gold lace that towered above her head. Braeden hoped for tall doorways.

  The sun had reappeared after a rainy morning so the temple square soon filled up when everyone heard that the empress was on her way. City carpenters threw up a hasty platform and brought large chairs for the empress and Maxima.

  No sooner had Braeden taken his place at the edge of the platform behind Teodora’s chair, than the crowd parted for Prince Kendryk and Princess Gwynneth.

  Braeden’s eyes, and those of every man in the square, went straight to the princess. Gwynneth Roussay was even lovelier than rumor claimed. She couldn’t have been a day over twenty-two, and next to the empress’s cosmetically contrived good looks, glowed with youth and freshness. She wore a simple blue riding dress, which matched her eyes, and a small hat perched on top of her golden curls.

  But Teodora’s attention was on the prince. Kendryk Bernotas made a good impression as well. He lacked his wife’s startling beauty, but glowed with the same youthful freshness.

  While Prince Kendryk dismounted, Teodora rose and came down one step. He met her, and without hesitation, knelt on the hard stone, took her hand, and kissed it. “Your Highness. This is the greatest honor of my life.” His large and expressive eyes were some kind of greenish blue and he turned their full force on the empress.

  Teodora allowed a small smile, and lifted him to his feet, then nodded at Princess Gwynneth, who had sunk into a deep curtsy right behind Kendryk. “Please rise, all of you,” she said. “It is a great pleasure to meet you Prince, after our pleasant correspondence.”

  That pleasant correspondence had led to one of the empress’s noisiest tantrums. It was said that she destroyed more palace porcelain on the night she received Kendryk’s letter than the barbarians did during the first sacking of Forli.

  Kendryk waved over a soldier. “Bring the prisoner,” he said, then turned back to Teodora. “Your Highness, I have here Father Edric Landrus, who has been in my custody these past months. As we agreed, I am now turning him over to you until his trial.”

  Teodora seemed surprised at the sight of the prisoner, unbound, approaching her between two unarmed guards. He sank into a deep bow.

  “Goodness.” She raised an eyebrow. “It seems no one worried you would escape.”

  Father Landrus looked up at her. “I gave Prince Kendryk my word, Your Highness. Besides, I have no wish to escape.”

  Braeden wasn’t sure what to make of Landrus, and so it seemed, neither did Teodora. For a man who likely faced the stake in a matter of days, he was amazingly cool.

  Braeden wondered if Prince Kendryk had something up his frilly sleeve. If he’d wanted to avoid this trial, he might have pardoned Landrus, or contrived an escape. But he hadn’t. From the look on his face, he wasn’t happy turning him over to the empress, although his slight frown disappeared almost as soon as it came. Though young, the prince was in charge of his emotions.

  Teodora nodded to Flavia Maxima, who nodded to someone else, and a Temple guard led Landrus away.

  “Well, I believe that concludes our business for now.” Teodora offered a polite smile, and Kendryk smiled back. “I will expect you and your household tonight at the feast given by Princess Viviane at her palace.” />
  “We would be honored, Your Highness.” Kendryk bowed again, and backed up a step to his horse which stood right behind him. That was well-timed, and probably no accident. No more bowing and scraping than was necessary.

  For once, Braeden looked forward to a formal dinner.

  Gwynneth

  Gwynneth couldn’t wait for Princess Viviane’s banquet. Kendryk and Teodora would be seated together so they could converse. Kendryk was nervous, but Gwynneth was sure he would do well.

  In addition, all the Kronland rulers who had traveled to Isenwald would be present. Eight out of twelve had made the journey in response to Gwynneth’s letters. She knew they would watch Kendryk closely.

  Kendryk and Gwynneth arrived early since Gwynneth wanted time to greet everyone before Teodora arrived. Though not as fine as Birkenhof, Princess Viviane’s palace was worthy of hosting an empress. She seated over three hundred guests in her great hall. Thousands of candles blazed from chandeliers of Sanovan crystal, silver candelabras on every surface and wall sconces made of amber-studded gold.

  Teodora wore a gown even more elaborate than the one she’d appeared in that afternoon. A deep red silk embroidered with gold flowers and studded with rubies and pearls, it must have weighed a great deal, though she wore it effortlessly. A red lace collar rose high over her dark hair, piled high and studded with jewels.

  Several dozen courtiers and ladies flanked Teodora, and she came with an impressive bodyguard of six Sanova Hussars. The two largest and best-looking—one dark and one fair—stood behind her, faces grim. They were probably too warm in their plate armor, leopard skins and furred, feathered hats. Gwynneth thought they looked splendid and smiled at them appreciatively until the fair one turned red under his beard.

  Kendryk sat at Teodora’s right, Gwynneth at her left. Gwynneth took care to engage Princess Viviane in conversation so Kendryk could devote all of his attention to and use his considerable charm on Teodora. This was all the more effective because it seemed so sincere and unpracticed; almost puppyish and clumsy. When Gwynneth had first been its target she fell in love instantly. Teodora might be less susceptible.

  Kendryk began as soon as everyone had settled in. “I am grateful to Your Highness for agreeing to meet us here. I know it’s unusual, but under the circumstances it was necessary.”

  “Was it?” Teodora asked. “It seems a great deal of trouble for a common heretic.”

  “The problem is, the people don’t see Father Landrus as a common heretic. To them, he’s a savior with the answer to all of their problems. Normally, he wouldn’t be so important, but in these unstable times, removing him might lead to political unrest.”

  “Which you could control.” Teodora’s voice seared like acid. What an unpleasant person she was. “Do you not command many troops?”

  “In theory.” Kendryk smiled, seeming unfazed by her tone. “But, those troops are part of a militia comprising the same citizens who adore Father Landrus.”

  “They should still do as they’re told,” Teodora persisted.

  “They should.” Kendryk kept smiling. “But just because they should, doesn’t mean they will. I’m sure you’ve found that to be the case?” He softened the barb by turning his luminous gaze on her full-bore.

  “There will always be rebels.” Teodora waved her hand.

  “Will there? It seems possible that people won’t rebel if they are content. Although I’m sure that’s harder to accomplish in a diverse and far-flung empire.”

  “You have no idea. Whenever I please one group, another is offended. This whole affair is a good example.”

  Kendryk nodded. “No matter the outcome of the trial, someone will be unhappy.”

  “What would make you happy?” Teodora asked.

  Kendryk’s eyes flew to Gwynneth’s.

  Teodora didn’t miss a thing. “Oh come. Surely your wife need not approve your opinion.”

  A gasp went up around the table. Even though conversation flowed between the rulers of Kronland and members of the imperial court, everyone was listening with one ear to the discussion at the head.

  “Of course not,” Kendryk said, without the slightest hint of offense. “Although I always value her thoughts.”

  “Quite a good husband then, aren’t you?” Teodora sneered at her own husband, seated near the table’s middle. Prince Raynard ignored her. “Unlike some.”

  “I try to be,” Kendryk said. “But in this matter, my own feelings are immaterial. I wish for the truth to be made known, but a trial of this nature doesn’t seem like the correct forum for that.”

  “Oh? Why not?” Teodora finished a goblet of wine and waved for more. Gwynneth had lost count of how many she’d had already. They hadn’t even finished the second course.

  “Its purpose is to prove whether Father Landrus’s ideas are heretical,” Kendryk replied. “It’s possible they are. Yet at one point, most of the beliefs we take for granted were heresy.”

  “Long, long ago, before there was an Imperata who could offer correct interpretations.”

  “But since then, there have been many councils, many of which have changed our dogma. It’s been two hundred years since the last one. Don’t you believe it’s time for another?”

  Teodora laughed. “I certainly don’t. I believe our current beliefs have served us well and continue to. That they are being questioned at this moment strikes me as politically convenient more than anything.”

  Kendryk was unperturbed. “That would be the cynical view. I’m no cynic, however.”

  “You are probably alone in this room on that count.”

  “Perhaps. But then, I’ve never been one to follow a crowd.”

  “You seek the truth instead. How noble.” Teodora’s tone was mocking, but Gwynneth could tell she was unnerved. Kendryk had spoken frankly, as to an equal, and it was obvious she was not accustomed to that.

  Worse for Teodora, many at the table approved of Kendryk’s words. The imperial councilors were wise enough not to make a peep, but the various Princes and Princesses of Kronland agreed with Kendryk openly. Those of the northern lands, Bronson Falk, Floreta Bensen, Andret Klemens and Ossian Dahlby had all made the long journey, and were most vocal in their support. Gwynneth tried to hide her pleasure. It wouldn’t do to gloat so soon.

  Kendryk

  To be sure the trial didn’t start without his input, Kendryk asked to see the empress the next morning. She received him in private; only her chief adviser, Count Solteszy, and a pretty blond secretary were present. The setting was informal, in Princess Kasbirk’s somber study. The wood paneling and carpets were so dark that even the sunlight streaming through the long windows seemed dulled.

  Kendryk also felt muted. Perhaps it was the weight of his obligations, or perhaps it was his outfit. Gwynneth had taken great care in picking out a suit of a sober deep blue. Wearing it made Kendryk feel old and responsible.

  Teodora was waiting for him when the door opened, standing in the middle of the room in a pool of light. Today she wore a different dress of deep red, this one far less stiff and formal than what she had previously worn. The low neckline showed off her still lovely skin.

  Kendryk kept his eyes on hers as he bowed over her outstretched hand. “Your Highness, Thank you for seeing me. I realize this is unorthodox.”

  Teodora raised an eyebrow. “Everything about this is unorthodox, but here we are.” It was hard to know what to make of her cool tone. She led him to a corner of the room, where Count Solteszy already stood, greeting Kendryk with a bow. The pretty secretary sank into a deep curtsy until Teodora slapped her arm, at which she quickly straightened up.

  They sat facing each other across a little table holding a dainty tea service. The secretary poured. Kendryk set his cup on the table after taking a perfunctory sip.

  “I suppose you wish to get started,” Teodora said. “I have several unhappy courtiers who had hoped to be present at these negotiations.”

  “So do I. I thought that the tri
al might take a great deal of time already, and the two of us might come to an agreement more quickly.”

  “Maybe.” Teodora sipped her tea. “I’m surprised you brought no one with you. I was sure that wife of yours would want to be involved.”

  If she’d buried an insult there, Kendryk ignored it. “She’s far more interested in seeing old friends who’ve also come.” He didn’t bother to mention that Gwynneth was buttonholing those old friends to offer political support against Teodora. “Shall we discuss the trial?”

  “If you wish. Though I can’t imagine what there is to talk about.” She leaned back in her chair, her eyes challenging.

  “I have a few specific requests.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?”

  He pretended not to notice her tone and pulled a small book out of his pocket. In it he had written everything he, Gwynneth and Count Faris could think of that might work to Landrus’s advantage. “First, I’d like to call witnesses on Father Landrus’s behalf, in equal number to those called for the prosecution.”

  “I don’t like it. It’s not the way tribunals are done.”

  “But this isn’t a tribunal, with only Flavia here to judge.” He could see from her face he had her there. “And in any other imperial court, it’s customary for the defense to call witnesses.”

  “Oh, all right. Though I don’t see what difference it could make. Please don’t tell me you want a lawyer for the accused. That would go too far.”

  “A lawyer won’t be necessary. But I would like to speak.” Kendryk’s own lawyer had already briefed him on everything he might say to make a good case for the priest.

  “Hmph. I don’t much like that, either. But if I don’t allow it, every ruler here will take offense. Very well. You may speak.”

  It was going well, but Kendryk didn’t expect her to give way on every point. “And one more thing. Father Landrus ought to speak on his own behalf.”

  “No. He’s said more than enough to condemn himself already.”