The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  At supper that evening, he tried to explain the theologians’ errors, but she just laughed. “Oh darling please, I’ve heard nothing else all day. You realize it all doesn’t make a bit of difference. You’ve called your own witnesses, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, but I worry that Flavia has already decided.”

  “I think Flavia will hew to the official line. We expected as much. Our only chance is letting her see the public sentiment against a conviction. Try not to worry so much. You’ve done everything you can.”

  “I hope so,” Kendryk said, looking pale and picking at his food.

  The prosecution went on for days. Even Landrus’s chambermaid testified that she had seen him copying from the Scrolls when she was quite sure “he dursen’t.”

  Gwynneth knew that Landrus had his own copy of the Scrolls at Birkenfels, but she hadn’t realized how illegal that was. Kendryk must have known this and gone along with it anyway. If he was willing to break the letter of the law in this way, perhaps he wouldn’t shrink from other methods, especially if it would save his friend.

  Janna

  The room was silent while everyone ate. “So,” Havil pushed his plate away. “Where do you belong, young lady?”

  “Kaleva,” Janna said.

  “Why aren’t you there?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “We have time.” Havil smirked. She did not care for the way he looked at her, and neither did Gerda, judging from the way she glared at him and at Janna in turn. Petra kept her head down. Janna didn’t think she’d seen her eyes yet.

  Janna opened her mouth, but Betha interrupted. “Her husband was killed in the fighting in Kaleva and it’s not yet safe for her to go back.”

  “A rebel then.” Gerda let her spoon clatter to the table. “I won’t have my daughter around those who don’t respect the lawful empress.”

  “Oh, I’m not a rebel,” Janna protested. “I have nothing against the empress. My husband had strange political ideas, I suppose.”

  “Then you should have convinced him he was wrong,” Gerda said. “It’s our job to keep our husbands on the straight and narrow.”

  “Well, I couldn’t.” Heat rose up Janna’s cheeks. “I wish I had, or he’d still be alive. It’s too late though, isn’t it?”

  “Oh see, now you’ve upset her,” Betha said. “Don’t be unkind, Gerda.”

  Gerda snorted.

  As she and Betha were cleaning up, and the others were bringing their things in, Janna said, “I insist on sleeping in the barn. It’s not a problem. We’ll take a few blankets. The nights are so warm right now.” She didn’t say she wasn’t interested in sleeping under the same roof with Havil, whose leer had become more pronounced as the evening wore on.

  When she and Anton settled into the hayloft, he said, “I don’t like those people, Mama.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I don’t either. We’ll try to leave as soon as we can. Perhaps by the time we get back to Kaleva, it will be safe.”

  “But Betha needs our help.”

  “Not anymore. She’ll have a grown man and woman, and the girl.”

  “But who will look after the animals?”

  “I suppose Petra can.”

  “She can’t. She’ll be afraid of the goats and they won’t behave.”

  “Maybe. Or you can teach her how to handle them, hmm?”

  Anton huffed and rolled over.

  When Janna came into the kitchen in the morning, Gerda was at the stove.

  “Oh, you’re letting Betha rest. How nice.”

  Gerda snorted. “I told her to make herself scarce. It’s time you and the boy left.”

  Janna stopped short. “Right now?”

  “The sooner the better.” Gerda turned toward her, holding a wooden spoon like a weapon. Janna shrank back.

  “We were planning on leaving soon anyway, but I thought …”

  “I don’t care what you think. But I care about the way my husband looks at you and I’m not having it.”

  “I’m not interested in your husband.”

  “You’d say that. A bit of baggage like you, it’s plain as day, isn’t it?”

  “What is?” Janna backed into a corner.

  “That you’re looking for another man. Useless little thing like you can’t get by without one.”

  “I can,” Janna whispered. “I did.”

  “Well, you’re not having mine.”

  “I … I don’t want yours. I swear I don’t.”

  “Well, I don’t care, and I’m not taking the chance. Havil’s always had a roving eye and if I don’t watch out, he’ll wander off one of these days. You’re just the thing to tempt him.”

  “I would not.” Janna mustered up indignation through her fear. “I’d never do anything to tempt your husband.”

  “Well, lucky for you, all you have to do is be under the same roof. No, you’ve got to go.”

  “All right,” Janna said, bewildered. “I’ll go say goodbye to Betha.”

  “That won’t be necessary. She’ll just carry on and try to get you to stay.”

  “I’d like to see her.”

  But Gerda advanced on her with the spoon, looming over her, and Janna decided not to push her luck. “I’ll get my son and we’ll be on our way.”

  Anton cried at leaving the goats and it wasn’t until they were back on the main road that Janna realized they hadn’t even had breakfast. Another meal didn’t seem likely anytime soon.

  Braeden

  After several witnesses unfriendly to the priest had appeared, Braeden’s job became more difficult. The crowds lining Teodora’s path rumbled angrily and one morning on the way to the temple, someone shouted, “There goes Vica’s whore.”

  “Do something,” Teodora said under her breath between gritted teeth. Braeden directed the other hussars to move in closer and scanned the crowd. He saw unfriendly faces, but no obvious culprit. He ordered a few other hussars to keep a close eye on the crowd and arrest anyone who misbehaved.

  It was an exercise in futility. The crowd was large and even if the hussars saw someone act, they’d never reach them before they disappeared. They were too few to overcome the people and doing so would have been disastrous anyway.

  Teodora dined in the city that evening, so they could return to the palace after dark. As soon as they arrived, Braeden followed her inside. “Might I have a word, Your Highness?”

  She whirled around. “Why don’t you do your job? You should have arrested those people and anyone stopping you should have suffered the consequences.”

  He felt his temper rise. “Your Highness, Kronfels isn’t Atlona. I can’t break heads because someone shouted an insult.”

  “Why not?” She seemed astonished.

  “With all respect Your Highness, you do not rule here. Princess Kasbirk does. Should I ask for more guards from her? They will be better able to handle the crowds.”

  She flounced into a room and Braeden followed her. Just inside, Brytta squeaked in protest, but Braeden ignored her.

  “Shut the door,” Teodora said, and Braeden closed it behind him. She flung herself into a chair. “This is intolerable.”

  Braeden was silent.

  “This is my empire and I ought to be able to do as I please. When did this happen? Which one of my incompetent predecessors let Kronland get away?”

  Braeden assumed she didn’t expect an answer. He didn’t know it in any case.

  “I don’t want Kasbirk involved in this. Oh, she’ll offer her guards while crowing over my unpopularity behind my back. I shouldn’t need her. It’s maddening. Do you ever say anything?”

  “I did, Your Highness. A few minutes ago.” Braeden shifted to his other foot.

  “That’s not what I meant. You look fearsome enough as a bodyguard, but I do wish you had better conversation.”

  “I am very sorry I don’t, Your Highness.”

  “It’s not your fault, I suppose.” She sighed. “I pay you to fight, not to talk,
and you seem to manage the fighting bit well enough.”

  She stood up again and paced the room. “Let’s not involve Princess Kasbirk for now. I’ll deal with these Kronlanders later. Oh, I realize they have their precious charters, but charters can be rewritten. Once the Zastwar situation has settled down, I’ll make them sorry they ever so much as looked at me sideways here. Especially that little Prince Kendryk. I don’t believe a man has annoyed me so much since my husband last …” She stamped her foot, then turned to Braeden again. “So, what do you propose we do?”

  Surprised, since he’d fallen half asleep while she rambled, Braeden pulled himself together. “I suggest a closed carriage, Your Highness. And those of us guarding in plain liveries, not our hussar regalia. You could pass for just another noble that way.”

  “Not draw attention to myself, hmm. That seems ridiculous. What’s the point of being empress when you can’t let people see you are?”

  “I don’t know, Your Highness.”

  “I wasn’t expecting an answer. You really are dense, aren’t you?”

  “Sometimes, Your Highness.”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Terris. Your Prince Novitny isn’t here to help you should I decide you need to disappear.”

  “No, he’s not, Your Highness.” Braeden found the thought depressing. He missed the prince and his other comrades. It wasn’t right they’d been split up like this.

  “Oh gods, don’t look so sad. I don’t plan to kill you, at least not right now. I’m just very frustrated.”

  Braeden nodded, hoping that wouldn’t make things worse.

  She sighed heavily. “Very well. I’ll take a closed carriage. But I still want the lot of you in full armor and looking fierce. I refuse to be anonymous. We’ll put it about that I have a headache and the sunlight makes it worse. I would hate it if anyone thought I was intimidated.”

  Braeden shifted to the other foot again. This wasn’t a good time, but he had to know. “Your Highness, I’ve heard rumors about Andor Korma.”

  “Do not speak that name in front of me,” she screamed.

  Braeden jumped.

  Teodora pulled herself together with visible effort. “Yes, yes it’s all true. He’s crossed the border and is a mere fifty leagues from Atlona. General Ensden is too far away to stop him.”

  “Perhaps we should head back. If we hurry, we might make Atlona before Korm—I mean, the rebel does.”

  “No.” She shook her head so vehemently, hair spilled out of its pins. “If I leave now, no matter how good the reasons, the Kronland rulers will never respect me again. I must see this trial through, and we’ll go as soon as there’s a guilty verdict. Your lot will hold the city, won’t they?”

  “Oh sure.” Braeden was on firmer ground here. “No one will get past them. Problem is getting out once a big army is there.”

  “Yes, I know.” Teodora dropped into a chair. “Gods, I’m tired. If I’d known that being empress would be one annoyance after another, I never would have bothered. My cousin could have had the job. All right, Terris.” She closed her eyes. “I’ll use a closed carriage. You can stay in that armor. You seem to frighten people. Let’s get this priest convicted and we’ll make for Atlona with all speed. With any luck, the Zastwar treaty will soon be signed and Ensden can meet us so we can take on that Marjatyan monster. I refuse to say his name. He is a nobody.”

  “I’ll say good night then, Your Highness.” Braeden backed out of the room before she screeched at him again.

  The trial dragged on. Kendryk assembled an impressive array of witnesses, including two priests and a priestess who were old friends from Landrus’s school days. They must have been taking considerable risk to do this, not just to their careers, but to their lives, should they ever leave Terragand.

  These clerics also dissected Landrus’s sermons and appeared to come to opposite conclusions from those found earlier. It seemed to Braeden that the confusion was now so complete it would be impossible to find if heresy had in fact been done.

  Civilian witnesses spoke after the clergy. These were prominent citizens who belonged to Landrus’s congregation in Runewald.

  Even Flavia Maxima’s hatchet face softened visibly when Prince Kendryk finally testified. He spoke of Father Landrus’s good character and his loyalty to both faith and Temple. Young, earnest, attractive, and already popular, Kendryk made a good impression on the audience, and judging by the many big words he used, seemed to have a firm grasp of theology.

  Not that it mattered. Little as Braeden understood, he understood well enough that Flavia would never proclaim the priest’s innocence in front of Teodora. Kendryk was wasting his time.

  Kendryk

  Kendryk rode at Teodora’s side, his horse treading silently on a needle-strewn path, a vast canopy of branches overhead. It was dark here, but sultry, and even though it was early in the day, Kendryk was already much too warm.

  Teodora glanced at him sideways. “That’s a fine cuirass you’re wearing. Are you worried I’ll get you alone in the woods and kill you?”

  “The thought never crossed my mind. But it crossed my wife’s, and that’s why I’m a bit overdressed.” He tried to keep his tone light and friendly since there was a good chance matters wouldn’t stay that way for long.

  Teodora seemed amused. “I knew your wife hated me. I can always tell.”

  “She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t trust you.”

  Another sideways glance, almost flirtatious. “She’s probably right, in general. Though I give my word that no harm will come to you here in the deep, dark woods. You’re well-guarded in any case.”

  Kendryk glanced back at his twenty-man escort. “That was mostly for the sake of protocol. And I’m not as well-guarded as you are.”

  Teodora had come with an escort of thirty Sanova Hussars. He saw she had the same enormous blond fellow with her who stood behind her at the trial. If it came to a fight, Kendryk doubted his men would prevail.

  It had rained the night before and the rising sun warmed the earth, making the ground steam. Kendryk supposed it wouldn’t be long before he steamed inside his armor as well. Perhaps if he started sweating, Teodora would think she was wearing him down.

  “I’m sure you remember what we discussed a few weeks ago,” he began, since Teodora did not try to start the conversation. In fact, he doubted she would have raised the subject again if he hadn’t sent her a message by way of reminder.

  “We discussed several things,” she said.

  “We did.” Kendryk reminded himself to be patient. “And we agreed to discuss one of them again when the trial was nearing its end. We are just a few days away from the last witnesses for the defense, so it’s time.”

  “There’s no point in talking about it. I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “Might I ask why not?” She had to be aware of the deteriorating situation.

  “I don’t see how allowing a heretic to speak will make these unpleasant people any less unpleasant.” So she was aware.

  “I am sure that if he doesn’t speak, they will only get worse.”

  “Oh, you are? How can you be certain?”

  “I can’t. But I’d rather not find out, and I assume you feel the same way.”

  She looked at him out of the corner of her eye again. “Oh, I don’t know. In some ways, I would welcome open rebellion because it would allow me to put a stop to it without all of this endless prevaricating.”

  Kendryk felt his temper rise. “You’d prefer violence just so you could enjoy putting it down?”

  She laughed. “You make it sound so terrible.”

  “It is terrible. Especially when it’s preventable.” He hoped it wasn’t his anger taking over, but he decided it was time to bring up the one thing he hadn’t yet dared. “And besides, you won’t receive the troop levies you need from Kronland if you’ve just slaughtered its inhabitants.”

  There was a long silence.

  Kendryk finally ventured a look at her.<
br />
  Teodora stared straight ahead, a bright red spot on her cheek. “You are the most …” She said through gritted teeth. “Disrespectful, insolent puppy I have ever, ever …” Her voice rose.

  Kendryk’s mouth fell open, and he quickly clapped it shut again. Not even his uncle dared speak to him in that tone. He took a deep breath and let it out before speaking. “Please believe me, Your Highness. I intend no disrespect. I merely wished to point out that…”

  “Point out what?” Teodora pulled her horse to an abrupt stop. Kendryk followed suit. “Point out that you and the other Kronland rulers will refuse to abide by the terms of your charter if I don’t give you what you want?”

  “It’s not that simple.” Kendryk’s heart hammered against his ribs. “Our charters don’t just dictate our responsibilities; they give us rights as well.”

  “I don’t want to hear about your rights!” Teodora shrieked, accidentally spurring her horse, which bolted down the path. The large hussar went after her and grabbed the reins before it went far.

  Kendryk followed at a more sedate pace. Merton came up to his elbow. “Should I stay closer, Your Grace?” he murmured. “She seems unpredictable.”

  “That’s one way of putting it. Yes, please stay a little closer. I’d like a friendly witness if she becomes too uncivil.” Perhaps Gwynneth had been right about the armor after all and Teodora would become uncivil enough to try to kill him.

  Janna

  They walked in silence for a while, then Anton said, “Those are nasty people. Poor Betha. What are we supposed to do now?”

  “We’ll go to Kaleva. It’s been a few months since we left and perhaps they’ve stopped looking for us. But to be safe, we’ll use my old name, all right? I’ll be Janna Beran, like I was before I married your Papa, and you’ll be Anton Beran. You can remember that, can’t you?”