The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  Braeden never found Andor Korma and hoped it was because his mangled body lay somewhere on the battlefield. There were plenty of those, almost all Marjatyan. It was well after noon before Braeden found Barela again. The general was pleased. Not only were the Sanova Hussars reunited, but word spread that those breaking out of the city might well have turned the tide. Barela seemed to think so.

  “I am so impressed, Prince,” Barela told Novitny. “The initiative! The discipline! I doubt I’ve ever had troops who behaved so well. Are you sure you would not like to go with me back to Floradias when it is time? I could use cavalry like yours. And just imagine all of that lovely flat ground!”

  Novitny smiled. “Flat ground covered with ditches. You are kind to offer, General, but for now, I’m committed to the empress.”

  Barela shrugged, still smiling. “Contracts end,” he said.

  Braeden wished he could work for Barela. Anything to get away from the empress. But it looked like Barela himself had no interest in doing so.

  Teodora was flushed and smiling after the battle, blood splattering her armor. Rumor was she had broken free of her bodyguard and done some fighting herself. There was also no denying the heated glances flashing between her and Barela. It seemed if she had her way, Barela would stay in Atlona for a while.

  It took the rest of the day to get the victorious army into the city. Conditions hadn’t been as dire as many had feared. Livilla Maxima had managed well, imposing reasonable rations, and keeping up morale. Even Novitny praised her.

  Teodora planned lavish entertainments as if the city had suffered no deprivation. Barela was a celebrity, his name on the lips of every lady at court.

  After giving everyone a few days to settle in, it was time to make plans. Teodora called a large meeting in her great hall. This included the imperial council and all of her generals.

  “There is much news,” she said without preamble. She was smiling and her eyes shone. Braeden looked sideways at Barela, but his face gave nothing away.

  “First the bad. Korma has managed to get back into Marjatya.” Normally, something like this would have put her in a week-long rage. “However,” she went on, “He’s much weakened. Our scouts estimate he has a few hundred men at most. We need not worry about him for a while.

  “There is good news too. Ambassador Arceo just signed a new treaty with Zastwar.” There was a happy roar from those who gathered. She stood smiling until the noise died down.

  “But we can’t rest yet. Most of you already know that we have another problem on our hands. Right before this siege, Kendryk Bernotas of Terragand engaged in an act of open rebellion by abducting the convicted heretic, Edric Landrus and taking him to safety. Temporary safety.” The familiar, fierce Teodora was back. “As if that weren’t bad enough, Prince Kendryk has taken advantage of our other problems to invade our borders.”

  There was another gasp.

  “I have heard from several of the rulers in southern Kronland. Not only has he ravaged our own lands, but Bernotas has sent his dog, Arian Orland to intimidate Arcius and Tirilis. Orland has burned villages and sacked towns. Anyone who professes loyalty to me is a target. I cannot let this continue, so I will deal with Bernotas next.”

  She turned toward Novitny and Braeden. “The Sanova Hussars have served me well, and will continue to do so. Your next mission is to invade Terragand. Until Count Ensden returns, I cannot launch a full-scale invasion. But we can show Kendryk that we are coming for him.”

  Braeden looked forward to some real fighting. With the hussars at full strength, they might be able to run right over Prince Kendryk before anyone else got there. Once Teodora’s problems were solved, Novitny could go to work for someone else. Braeden was ready for a new employer.

  Kendryk

  Kendryk galloped into the stable courtyard at Birkenhof just after noon, startling a groom dozing in the sunlight. He tossed him the reins and dismounted. By now it had been several days since he received Landrus’s letter and his anxiety had reached an unbearable level. He wanted to find Gwynneth right away and make sure she and the children were all right.

  The palace dozed in the sun. The main hall was cool, but aside from a lone footman, deserted. Kendryk went straight to the library, but found no one. Strange for the middle of the day since Gwynneth spent most of her time there. Perhaps she was ill. He hurried along the corridor, poking his head into every room. No one was about.

  He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time and finally spotted Avaron, sitting on a bench in the corridor.

  She jumped up when she saw Kendryk. “Your Grace, we did not expect you today.”

  “I know.” Kendryk was breathing hard. “Where is the princess? Is she well?”

  “Well enough.” Avaron’s tone was strange. “I believe she is, um, in her dressing room.”

  “Why? Is something wrong?”

  “She might have had a headache from the heat,” Avaron said, her eyes blinking rapidly.

  Now Kendryk expected the worst. Was Gwynneth horribly ill, and no one dared tell him? Was she dead? Where was the doctor? He paused at her dressing room door. He heard raised voices, one of them Gwynneth’s. Breathless but relieved, he opened the door.

  He couldn’t quite believe the scene before him.

  Gwynneth and Arian sat side-by-side on the chaise lounge, absorbed in an intense conversation. Gwynneth was angry, but Arian held her hands in a way he shouldn’t have been and Gwynneth wasn’t trying to pull away. Time seemed to slow. Kendryk stood in the doorway breathing hard, unable to say a word.

  Gwynneth noticed him first, gasped and yanked her hands from Arian’s grasp. There was no doubting the guilt on her face. Arian turned and jumped up when he saw Kendryk. They all stared at each other.

  Arian spoke first. “See here, it’s all right.” He took a few steps in Kendryk’s direction.

  “It’s not what it seems?” Kendryk finally managed.

  “Not quite,” Arian said.

  “Let me explain,” Gwynneth began.

  Kendryk stared at her. “How can you possibly explain this? There is only one reason he would be here.”

  “Nothing was happening, or going to happen,” Arian said. “She was ending it.”

  Which meant there was something to end. Arian took one more step and Kendryk’s fist shot out and hit him square in the jaw. Pain flashed up Kendryk’s hand, momentarily clearing his head.

  Arian stumbled back, but rather than reach for him, Gwynneth stepped out of the way. At least that, Kendryk thought. If she had rushed to Arian’s aid, he couldn’t have borne it.

  Kendryk took a deep breath. “I have to know. Did he force you?”

  Gwynneth gave him a long look, her eyes filling with tears. “No.” She shook her head as they spilled onto her cheeks. “No, he didn’t.”

  That was all he needed. Turning on his heel, Gwynneth’s shocked, tearful face burning into his brain, he sprinted back down the stairs. He hurried along the corridor, passing the footman holding his hat. Storming into the courtyard, he shouted for a horse, any horse. While he paced waiting for one to be saddled, he heard Gwynneth calling his name. He ignored her until she stood right behind him and put her hand on his shoulder.

  “Kendryk, please,” she said through tears.

  He flung her hand off. Fortunately, the groom brought up a horse so he could get away.

  “Don’t talk to me,” he said through gritted teeth. He’d never before used that tone with her.

  She stood there stunned, while he jumped into the saddle and galloped out the courtyard toward the forest.

  Janna

  Flames grabbed at her like fingers, and though Janna ran as fast as she could, the fire was faster. But instead of burning her, it snatched and threw her to the ground. Her breath flew from her chest and her mouth filled with dirt. When she rolled to her back, something fell on her, knocking the rest of her wind out of her. It was a body, one of the men who’d attacked her. He was dead, but no matter how h
ard she pushed, Janna couldn’t get him off her.

  She gasped and panted and pushed until suddenly the weight lifted. Janna sat up, gasping for air, just in time to see Daciana Tomescu fling the body to one side as if it weighed nothing. Then she pushed someone toward Janna. It was Anton, looking pale, but taller than before.

  Janna opened her mouth to thank her, but Tomescu’s eyes turned yellow as she loomed over Anton. She laughed, loud and shrieking, showing long, sharp fangs that kept growing until they were the size of a wild boar’s tusks. She lifted a long, curved sword.

  Janna tried to stand, but her legs wobbled like jelly and refused to lift her. The blade flashed toward Anton and Janna shrieked, “Kill me! Please, kill me instead. Please.”

  But the blade swooped down and Anton collapsed in a small bloody heap. Janna screamed and screamed while Daciana licked the blood from her blade, grinning at Janna sideways.

  She screamed and shook and shook harder until another voice pushed in from somewhere behind her. It was Braeden, shouting her name and shaking her.

  “Janna, wake up,” he said over and over again, until she did, much too slowly. The wolf eyes and the blood were replaced by the weight of a large hand on her shoulder and the sight of a boy holding a candle, standing in front of her cot, staring at her. It took a long time to remember that the boy was Gergo and why she was in a Sanova Hussar’s tent. Braeden said nothing once she was fully awake, just knelt next to her cot, rubbing her shoulder.

  “It was awful,” she said when she’d caught her breath and could move her limbs again. “Fire, and Tomescu, and she killed Anton and there was so much blood.”

  “Just a dream,” Braeden said. “A nightmare. It’s normal to have those after something bad’s happened.”

  “But why didn’t I have them right after? Why now when I’m safe?”

  “I don’t know.” Braeden didn’t seem inclined to explain and for some reason she was grateful for that. “Here Gergo, give me that and go back to bed.” He took the candle and set it on the ground next to Janna’s cot. The flame cast enormous shadows against the wall of the tent.

  Janna shivered. “I’ll just sit here for a while. You should go back to sleep.”

  “I don’t mind sitting with you for a bit.” Braeden moved away from the cot and sat against the wall of the tent, the flickering light shadowing his face from below. “Did your mother ever tell you the story about the peasant who tricked his lord with a big white goose?”

  “Of course. Everyone knows that story.”

  He leaned forward, his voice low. “I don’t think you’ve heard this version. It’s not generally told around ladies, but it might make you laugh.”

  Janna leaned forward too, in spite of herself. He was right, it did make her laugh, and it made her blush too, though she hoped it was too dark for him to notice that. Best of all, when she went back to sleep, her only dreams were of a fat lord, his breeches around his ankles, chasing a white goose down a busy street.

  Kendryk

  Kendryk gave the horse its head, using his spurs to keep it moving. The heat was less intense in the woods. He turned off the road onto a smaller path, and the branches reached down to slap his face. He tasted blood on his lip. The pain comforted him, distracting him from the tight knot in his chest.

  After a while, he let the horse drink from a brook which ran alongside the path. He was thirsty too, but dismounting took too much effort. Kendryk tried to calm himself, but as soon as he did, the unbearable memory of what he’d seen washed over him.

  He stayed in the woods for hours. The horse wandered where it wanted, down different paths, stopping to eat grass and getting water a few more times. The shadows were long before he made himself see where he was though he didn’t fear being lost. He had known these woods his whole life.

  He couldn’t return to the palace pretending nothing had happened. That was impossible. Everything had changed and he couldn’t see his way forward. He wished he had someone to talk to. Normally, that would have been Gwynneth, but he wanted nothing to do with her right now.

  After two hours of riding, Kendryk entered Heidenhof just as the sun went down. He realized he must look terrible, dirty from the road to begin with. No hat, no cloak, no company. That didn’t matter. Landrus would always see him.

  They recognized him at the palace and he told the stable-boy who took his horse to rub him down well and give him extra water.

  Someone had already sent word to Landrus, so he stood near the main door as Kendryk came in. “Come in and sit down,” he said in that calm tone he had, leading Kendryk into a small, comfortable room near the entrance. Kendryk fell into a chair. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to speak, and Landrus didn’t push him. He called for refreshments, then took his time closing the door and coming back in. “Speak when you’re ready. If it’s any help, I have a good idea why you’re here.”

  Kendryk took a few moments to master himself. He had a childish desire to throw himself into Landrus’s arms and cry on his shoulder. But he hadn’t had that luxury even as a child.

  A servant came with a tray, and Landrus handed Kendryk a small glass. “Drink this. It might help calm you.”

  Kendryk took a sip. It was some kind of brandy, sweet, but with a sharp bite. He gulped it all down, though it made his eyes water.

  “Another?” Landrus asked.

  Kendryk held out his glass.

  After emptying that one, he felt calmer. The sharp pain in his chest had dulled and a wave of exhaustion swept over him. He’d been on horseback since sunrise and the day had been hot.

  “I think I know now what your letter was about.” Kendryk set the glass on a table.

  “I didn’t know what to say. Perhaps I should have remained silent, but that seemed wrong. Someone needed to tell you.”

  “Yes, you’re right. I still can’t quite grasp it, and I don’t have the slightest idea what to do about it.”

  “I won’t ask how you found out, but I’ll assume there was no doubt what was going on.”

  “No doubt at all. She looked far too guilty though Arian said she was trying to end it.”

  “She probably was. I spoke with her last week, telling her she needed to do so right away. I learned that she had tried, but Orland refused. He made many dire threats.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Kendryk said. “I have never wanted to kill anyone, but I want to kill him right now. Perhaps I can challenge him.”

  “That would be unwise. He’s deadly in a duel. You must rise above it since he is not your equal.”

  “I won’t ask how you got your information. Though no doubt it wasn’t too difficult. It doesn’t matter. But I can’t go back and act as if nothing has happened.”

  “You cannot,” Landrus said. “I won’t tell you what to do, but this is what I told the princess when I found out. Arian Orland must be banished and leave your service altogether. And the princess should leave too, at least for a time.”

  “Where would she go? I don’t want it to appear as if I am casting her off.”

  “It seems plausible she would go to Norovaea to plead your case with her father in person.”

  “I suppose it does. I was about to say I would miss her, except I don’t think I can bear to look at her right now. Maybe I never will again.”

  “It’s hard to say if your marriage can be saved. Perhaps it can. I’ve seen worse situations remedied with the help of the gods. She still loves you and would do anything to make things right.”

  “How can she?” Kendryk asked miserably.

  “Perhaps she cannot. But the shock of this is still very new. In time, you will feel better, though it’s hard to believe right now. However, you must act in the meantime.”

  “Getting rid of Arian would be satisfying though I realize it diminishes my chances against Teodora.”

  “You will miss his cavalry, though he won’t go over to Teodora, as he threatened the princess.”

  “He told her he would do that?” Anger surged up
inside him again.

  “Yes when she tried to end it. I doubt he was serious, though she might not have realized it. The Orlands are by far the most rabid anti-Imperialists in Terragand. He would sooner fight for Maladena. And besides, Count Faris can’t be far away now. With the force he has assembled you should have no trouble challenging Teodora.”

  “That settles it then. Arian must go. But what about Gwynneth? It seems harsh to send her away.”

  “It does. But some distance between you might be helpful. She might find success pleading with her father in person. Also consider that you will soon be away from home again. I don’t believe she will betray you a second time, but if Orland refuses to stay away, there could be trouble.”

  “Yes, trouble as in, I’ll kill him without the courtesy of a challenge.” Kendryk couldn’t believe how belligerent he’d become. “It’s hard to believe he’d be so brazen.”

  “It is. Though you are far from the first man he’s hurt because they underestimated him.”

  “I should have listened to you.” Underneath the anger, the pain threatened to overwhelm him.

  “It’s understandable that you didn’t. You have a good heart and expect others to behave as you do. This has been a hard but necessary lesson.”

  Kendryk sighed. “I’ll send them both on their way in the morning. I suppose I’ll sleep in my dressing room tonight.”

  “Don’t go back tonight,” Landrus said. “You’re done in. There’s plenty of room here and you will more likely sleep better. Your horse will thank you. I’ll send a message so the princess doesn’t worry.”

  “Why?” Kendryk felt angry about that consideration. “Let her worry.”

  “It would be cruel. Tomorrow will be a hard day for her. Let her sleep tonight knowing you are safe.”

  “All right.” Kendryk stood. “Thank you for listening and for your counsel. I’m glad you were here.”

  “It was because of me you had need. It’s the least I can do.”