“I doubt it. She’s probably hoping Ensden will make it, or even Tomescu.”
“Not her.” Reno shuddered.
“Better than no one,” Braeden said, though he hoped never to lay eyes on that woman again. “Will Senta and the girls be on their way soon?”
“I hope so. Senta got up with me and dragged the girls out of bed so they should be packed by daybreak.”
Teodora was in deep conversation with Solteszy, so Braeden moved forward to eavesdrop.
“But I can’t give them up,” Teodora said. “If I do, and Zastwar attacks again, they’ll be leagues into Marjatya before we can hope to stop them.”
“If they do,” Solteszy said. “That’s in the future. You need your army right now. It’s troubling yes, to think of losing Girosna and Lubardol, but far more troubling to lose Atlona.”
“I will not lose Atlona.” Teodora spoke through clenched teeth. “Livilla will hold, no matter what, and I believe I can rely upon Novitny. The Sanova Hussars have never surrendered, and he wouldn’t dare to be the first.”
Braeden and Reno exchanged glances. She was right.
“I’m sure that’s true, Your Highness,” Solteszy said. “But the longer you wait to make concessions to Zastwar, the more they will demand, especially as the weakness of your position becomes known.”
“I hate that word.” Teodora’s teeth were still clenched from the sound of it. “I am not weak and I will not allow anyone to treat me like I am. I’ve experienced a setback, but there is no doubt I will get my capital back and make Korma wish he’d never been born.”
Gwynneth
Gwynneth watched the empress and her guards ride down the deserted street. A moment later, Kendryk burst into the room.
“I received your message,” he said, breathless.
“The empress just went by, riding for Atlona with the Sanova Hussars at her back. If you were waiting for an answer from the gods, it looks like you’ve received it.”
“This isn’t anything like the last sign.” He looked exhausted.
She shook her head. “Darling, it should be obvious by now that the gods aren’t always as specific as you’d like.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Kendryk grumbled.
“But consider this. If you do nothing, Teodora will take Landrus to Atlona and have him executed as soon as she can. Even if the city remains besieged, she can do what she wants with him. If she ever gets it back and her fortunes improve, it sounds like she plans to act against you anyway.”
“If she wants to do as she threatened, she will first have to bring her aristocrats in check,” Kendryk said. “And that’s before any reaction she gets from Kronland if she mentions altering charters. I doubt she’ll do it.”
“Maybe not. But you can’t deny she has it in for you now, and will do everything she can to cause trouble. I could even see her starting something with Zastwar so she has the satisfaction of forcing you to supply troops.”
“I’d still prefer not to provoke her.”
“You already have.” Gwynneth was very serious. Her heart pounded with excitement, but she had to stay calm until she brought him around. “Teodora won’t expect you to rescue Landrus, but if you do, she’ll take it as yet another insult in a line of several you’ve delivered already.”
“I didn’t intend to be insulting.”
“Of course you didn’t. But she can’t be certain of that, and the result is the same. But after everything, I don’t understand how you can’t see the clear message here.”
“You truly believe it’s from the gods?”
“Yes. Between Flavia’s stay and Teodora’s intervention, it’s clear they wish Landrus to stay alive. And who else but you will do it?”
“There must be someone, surely.”
“You know there isn’t.” She was sure she had him; he would only need a little more convincing. “Besides,” she added. “Landrus is counting on you. He wouldn’t have refused Flavia’s offer otherwise.”
“You can’t be sure of that. He already turned down a similar one from me.”
“But that was different. Death is a certainty this time. He’s a tough fellow, but anyone facing the stake in three days would welcome having it deferred.”
“You don’t know him like I do,” Kendryk muttered.
“That doesn’t matter. The fact is, he has more faith in you than you do in yourself. Please don’t disappoint him.” She gave him her best pleading look.
He grinned, shaking his head. “I can’t say no to you when you do that. And I trust your judgment; I don’t want you to think it’s because of that.”
From the window, they watched the tail of Teodora’s entourage make its way down the dark street, then sat down to a quick breakfast of bread and coffee.
Moments later, Gwynneth’s maid Catrin interrupted them. “Word just came, Your Grace.” She bobbed a curtsy while running into the room. She did everything quickly, including mercifully, Gwynneth’s hair. “The prisoner leaves the temple at dawn. He will be in the middle of the baggage train. Most of the empress’s household will be in that, including her children.”
As usual, Gwynneth had cultivated a network of sources in every household of significance in Kronfels. Her kind manner with servants and generosity with silver meant that a steady stream of information poured into her bedchamber via the loquacious Catrin.
“How many are guarding him?” Gwynneth asked.
“Twenty. But that’s not including the armed escort for the baggage. The empress left two hundred infantry behind for that.”
“They’ll be spread out thin,” Kendryk said. “But those twenty will be ahorse, and well-armed. They will be able to pursue for a great distance.”
Gwynneth dismissed the maid. Her nerves clattered as if she’d had too much coffee. Perhaps she had. Still, it was clear this was the perfect moment to act. Helping Landrus escape to Norovaea paled in comparison. A prisoner snatched out from under Teodora’s nose would establish Kendryk as a force in his own right, a leader who was not to be crossed.
Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she turned back to Kendryk. “We can manage it.”
“I suppose so.” Kendryk still looked miserable. “I wish Count Faris were here. He would know how to do this sort of thing.”
“He’s taught you well, and we have three hundred soldiers. That should be more than enough.”
“We need to think this through,” he said. “Whatever happens, I don’t want to risk you falling into imperial hands. Before I do anything, I want you on the road to Terragand, with at least a hundred guards.”
“I can help.” She didn’t want to miss out on the excitement of a rescue.
“Yes, you can help by making it appear we are returning to Terragand right away. Did Selwin Mikus come with us? He grew up in the woods around here.”
“Yes, he’s here. I remember him asking you if he could come along since he has family here.”
“Good. He’ll help me disappear into the woods. We can do our best to stop those guards from pursuing us, and we need to be well away before she can send the Sanovans after us.”
It was a relief to see him decisive now. “You’ll never have a chance like this again.”
“I know.” Kendryk still looked pale and worn, but now it was just from fatigue. His eyes were alive and sparkling again. “Let’s send for Mikus and make a plan.”
Kendryk
Kendryk hoped the empress had gone without leaving any spies behind to report on his movements. That the entire Terragand delegation left Kronfels so quickly must have looked suspicious, but it was the only way to act without putting his people in danger.
Gwynneth rode out in front, surrounded by a hundred troops. Once out of sight of the city, she would ride ahead as quickly as possible. Stopping only to rest the horses a few times, she would make the Terragand frontier in a day and a half. Once there, she would be safe.
Retainers, baggage and more troops came next. This group wo
uld be slower, but if the weather held, they could be in Terragand in three days. Kendryk assigned another fifty troops to guard them. If he must lose anything, he would risk this group.
Kendryk brought up the rear with a hundred and fifty men handpicked for loyalty and skill. He wore plain and serviceable borrowed armor, hoping he’d look like a regular soldier.
Two leagues from Kronfels, he watched Gwynneth’s group pull away. His heart beat faster, but now he knew he was doing the right thing. Any impatience he felt was because he couldn’t wait to see Landrus again. He couldn’t say why, but he knew the gods had answered his prayers and laid a clear path before him. Once he returned to Terragand, he hoped they would guide him further.
They rode another half-league when Mikus said, “It’s up here, Your Grace.” They’d come to a small trail going into the woods.
“You’re sure this will put us on the Tirilis road?” The path wound into the woods and soon disappeared.
“I’m certain of it,” Mikus said. “If we keep a good pace, we should come out less than a league behind the empress’s train.”
Kendryk gave the order to turn. The trail was so narrow, they could ride no more than two abreast, and he worried about exposing such a long column. But Mikus assured him that there was no one dangerous in these woods. Princess Kasbirk had rooted out the last outlaws many years ago, and now all they saw was the occasional woodsman’s cabin.
They rode for hours. Even at its highest, the sun’s rays barely penetrated the dark branches overhead. Mikus stopped him at a small crossroads and pointed to a trail going east. “That will be our way when we come back.”
“So we’ll come back on this path and then turn here?”
“Yes. We’ll also ford a stream that might help put them off our trail if we’re pursued. There’ll be several paths leading from the stream. Stay close to me so you take the right one.”
“Oh, I will.”
This forest was confounding. The land was flatter than in Terragand, and the massive fir trees went on forever, with a soft undergrowth of light green shimmering underneath them. It all looked the same to Kendryk. He thanked the gods for Mikus.
They carried their own supplies, so there would be no need to stop for food. The horses would find plentiful forage here, and there was water in the little streams that criss-crossed the forest floor. They wouldn’t stop to make camp, sleeping in the saddle and eating biscuits and dried meat until they reached Terragand.
The sun was low in the western sky when they reached the Tirilis road. A great company had passed recently, but no one was yet in sight. Kendryk gathered everyone around and explained his plan.
Without exception the men were excited about retrieving Landrus, especially since some among them had guarded him at Birkenfels, becoming his friends during that time.
Kendryk sent two of his fastest riders ahead to scout and they returned with word that the caravan lay less than a league ahead, but would make camp in the first likely spot. The empress and Sanova Hussars were much farther ahead; out of sight. Landrus was in a wagon in the middle of the baggage train.
“One more thing,” Kendryk said. “The empress’s children will be in the train. Under no circumstances do I want them harmed. And try not to hurt any unarmed person. Take down anyone who tries to stop you from getting Landrus, but no one else.”
“Wouldn’t an imperial child make a useful hostage?” someone piped up.
“Absolutely not. We aren’t here to pick a fight.” It sounded ridiculous as soon as he said it, but he didn’t care right now. Some of his elation had subsided during the long ride, but now they were close, it had returned. “We want to get Landrus, and we can negotiate later. The empress will be angry, and she’s unreasonable enough as it is.” Not to mention, trying to escape with a little archduke or archduchess would make their task more difficult.
As they reached the edge of the woods, Mikus grinned and tied a piece of red cloth to a nearby tree branch. “So we don’t miss the trail. I’ll pull it down once we’re in. With the ground so trampled around here, they might never see where we leave the road.”
Kendryk didn’t want to imagine what might happen if a force like the Sanova Hussars pursued them into the woods. He ignored the knot in his stomach and urged his horse onto the road and into the open.
Janna
She woke up to rain falling on her face. When she tried to lift her head, she saw stars. Janna wondered if she was dead. A moment later, she wished she were, as memories returned. She’d lost consciousness for most of it, but not enough.
The rain fell harder, and she wiggled her toes and her fingers. She breathed, although it was excruciating. Janna was cold and noticed her skirt bunched up around her waist. She lay in the grass at the side of the road and knew she must move before someone came. She struggled to sit up and cried out in pain, but gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand. She needed to get off the road, and she needed to find Anton.
Swaying on her feet, she stumbled into the trees before she fell. The rain changed to drizzle and moonlight peeked through the clouds. She hoped Anton had escaped somehow and was hiding nearby. Perhaps he got a chance when the men were busy with her. Just thinking about it made her vomit, but her stomach was empty, so she heaved and whimpered from the pain. By now she was sure that those kicks had broken her ribs.
Well, they’d heal. Everything would heal, given time.
“Find Anton,” she whispered to herself, and whispered his name more loudly. There was nothing but the soft rustle of leaves, so she tried calling out loud. No sound came out. She tried again but had no voice. Her throat felt swollen under her hands though she didn’t remember screaming.
Janna stood again, then lurched from tree to tree, keeping the road in view while whispering Anton’s name. She did that until the sun rose. When the first voices came from the road, she disappeared into the woods, walking for leagues until she collapsed from exhaustion. Out of habit, she found water and crawled along the creek for a while. For a day or two she did nothing but sleep and drink water from forest streams.
When her voice returned, she called for Anton again although she no longer expected to find him. Before she could stop herself, she prayed to the Mother to help her find him and to the Father to protect him if he still lived. Then she cursed herself for a stupid, ignorant girl. Everything she’d learned about the gods was wrong. They were supposed to protect the good and punish the wicked. But that was a lie.
Janna was good. She’d always done what everyone expected, did her duty to her parents, her sisters, her husband, his children. Even though she wasn’t perfect she had done nothing to deserve this punishment.
It felt strange to lose that comfort, that knowledge that someone powerful was looking after her, but she didn’t care. She was too tired and hungry to be angry. And it was better not to think at all because sooner or later those thoughts would always come back to every dreadful thing that had happened.
After several days of wandering, she lost count altogether. She became like a wild animal. Her shoes fell apart, but she kept going. There were three kinds of berries she could safely eat, and two kinds of mushrooms. They never satisfied her hunger but were enough to keep her alive and moving. Streams provided water and once she followed a river until she heard voices in a clearing. A few times, the sound of an ax sent her the other way.
She was glad now that she didn’t have the children with her. They couldn’t have survived this. She wouldn’t for much longer either. At some point, she would just fall onto the ground, and be covered by leaves and needles. Scavengers would come, and before winter ended, no one would know she’d been here, or been alive at all.
Her family, if they still lived, would wonder what had become of her, but in time they would forget her too. That should have made her sad, but she was too weak to care. She didn’t even cry anymore. The weather remained warm, so she stayed dry, but she didn’t want to imagine how she must look. Her hair was a wild tangle, he
r face filthy. She didn’t bother to wash it anymore. Her feet were a horror of dirt, cuts and blisters, although she was growing an impressive layer of calluses.
It would have been impossible to picture herself this way as a merchant’s wife in Kaleva. Always so clean and tidy and proper. Janna laughed, first softly, then louder. There was no one to hear, no one to think she’d lost her mind, which she probably had.
Kendryk
It was almost dark as they came upon the camp. The few soldiers about were busy putting up tents and starting fires. The scout pointed out the wagon with Landrus in it. Most of its guards were making camp, but Kendryk noticed four wandering around the wagon. Though armed, they weren’t paying much attention. Best to move before they noticed anything amiss and alerted the others.
Kendryk gave the signal. They charged into the camp, running over a fire or two and upsetting a tent. People fled into the woods screaming, and a few soldiers ran for weapons. Kendryk let those behind him worry about them; he focused on the guards. By now a few more had run back toward the wagon. Kendryk drew a pistol and fired at the guard who stepped out to block his path.
The shot missed, and the guard jumped out of the way. Another stood right in front of Kendryk, holding a musket. He raised it, but it misfired. Now Kendryk was too close for more shooting and pulled out his sword. There was gunfire around him, but Kendryk focused on the wagon ahead of him. He swung his sword down and the guard moved aside. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man fumbling for his own weapon, but then he’d left him behind.
At the wagon, Kendryk saw he was not alone. Several guards lay on the ground; whether they were dead or wounded, he couldn’t say. His own men were rounding up a few more. They had to hurry, for the alarm was no doubt raised by now and troops accompanying the rest of the train would be here soon.
Kendryk looked at the wagon with a small barred window and heavy lock on the door. Perhaps they’d have to break it. But then, his captain shoved a man forward. “He’s got the key, Your Grace.” Kendryk winced, since he had instructed them not to address him in any way that might reveal his identity. It didn’t matter. Teodora would suspect him before anyone else.
The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3 Page 20