The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

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The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3 Page 41

by Christina Ochs


  “We must slow her down,” Faris said.

  They were silent for a few moments. It was impossible to split the force. Plague had diminished their number by over a third and soldiers were still falling ill. Tired and heartsick as he was, Kendryk sometimes wished he would get sick, so it would all be over within days.

  “I have an idea,” Kendryk said at last. “Although I hate it.”

  “We have to entertain every possibility.”

  “If Teodora is traveling ahead of her baggage, maybe we can slow her down. If she can’t live off the land, she must wait for supplies, won’t she?”

  “I suppose she would. What are you proposing?”

  “We burn it.” Kendryk was barely able to force the words through his throat. “We burn everything between here and Birkenhof.”

  Kendryk saw Faris’s face blanch, but continued. “We have enough time to get everyone into fortified towns, or castles. The harvest is over and there should be enough time to get everything inside a safe place. Once that’s done, we burn the rest of it.”

  “Teodora will consider it a desperate measure,” Faris said.

  “It is a desperate measure.” Kendryk put his head in his hands. When he looked up again he said, “I care little for appearances at this point. If Teodora assumes she has the advantage of me, let her. It’s far worse than she thinks it is anyway.”

  At this point he saw no way to pull a victory out of this, barring a miracle. And there was no miracle he could imagine short of the gods themselves striking Teodora down where she stood.

  “Then we must make the best of it,” Faris said. “I agree that we can slow her down by removing possible food sources. Beyond that, we should take advantage of what time we gain by choosing the best position we can.”

  “I can think of one, but I don’t want to bring them so close to Birkenfels.”

  “That doesn’t matter. Birkenfels won’t fall. The Roussays will send help before they allow Princess Gwynneth to be captured.”

  “They’ve seemed not to mind so far.” Kendryk tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He hadn’t wanted the help at first, but now there was nothing he needed more.

  “Things are in disarray there as you know. They might still change, and soon. I say we fall back in good order and do as you say for the countryside. It’s only a small part of Terragand and will recover soon enough. We can cross the river, blow the bridges and take positions on those hills beyond it. We should have time to place the guns where they can do the most good.”

  “If I had known I would lose so many soldiers, I would have ordered more guns.”

  “You still need soldiers to fire them.”

  “True enough. I’ll send Gwynneth a message telling her to prepare for the worst and watch for our coming. Give the order to march in two hours’ time.”

  Kendryk was careful not to reveal too much of his plan even in a cipher. He simply told Gwynneth that he appreciated what she had done and he would see her soon. In the meantime, she was to continue getting everything of value into the castle, including Landrus.

  That completed, he handed the message to a fast courier and made his own preparations. The head of his column reached the first town in less than an hour. Starnheim was a large town with a sturdy wall. It would not withstand prolonged cannon fire, but he hoped Teodora wouldn’t take the time to besiege it.

  The burgomaster met with him at once. The old man with immense white side whiskers was nearly beside himself with nerves upon meeting Kendryk. When he explained what they had planned, the man paled. “Those poor people,” he said. “They will lose everything.”

  “Not everything. They have the rest of the day to get everything they can inside the walls. Please open any warehouses and cellars with extra space. My men are already spreading the word in the farms and villages. Their homes will have to be rebuilt. I’ll do what I can to help.”

  He had little money left with him, but it was best to give it away now, while he could. The burgomaster seemed an honest sort, so Kendryk sent for a small chest of coin to be delivered to the town treasury before they left.

  On the way out of town, they met a trickle of people going in. Kendryk forced himself to stop in front of a man holding the hand of a little girl and carrying a large bundle on his back.

  He jumped down from his horse. “I am very sorry about this, my good man,” Kendryk said. “I realize it’s little comfort, but I appreciate your sacrifice and will do what I can to help when this is over.”

  The man bowed and when he rose, his eyes were shining. “It is no hardship to do this for you, Your Grace. We are with you, all of us. With you and with Edric Maximus. We know you stand for the truth against the forces of evil and the gods require us to stand with you.”

  Kendryk couldn’t speak, but pressed the man’s hand and tousled the little girl’s curly head. As he passed through the village and on to the farms outside, the mood was the same. Everyone wanted him to shake their hands and kiss their children. He dismounted and walked much of the way, taking the time to talk to everyone who wished it. It was the least he could do, considering what they were sacrificing.

  At one of the last farmsteads, the young couple there insisted that he stay for a hurried meal before they packed up and drove their livestock into town. When he arose, Kendryk left his last gold coin on their table.

  It was time to get back on his horse, but he felt so heavy he almost needed to ask for help. This was unbearable, but he had to bear it anyway.

  As they plodded northward, Kendryk tried to picture his reunion with Gwynneth. He still couldn’t think of seeing her and Arian without feeling intense agony. But that was not how he wanted to leave her. If he’d had a few months, he would have taken them and be sure of himself before forgiving her. But there was no time. What mattered now were not those weeks of betrayal and anger but the years of happiness they’d had. He’d give anything—his kingdom, his life, his soul—to have that joy again, even for a few moments.

  Braeden

  The hussars met their baggage train about an hour before it was time to make camp. Because of the confusion and many happy reunions, Prince Novitny ordered camp made in the first decent spot. On this side of the mountains, the land was flat and there was plenty of water, so that was easy enough.

  Braeden located his wagons and told Gergo to leave out Janna’s corner. “The lady is moving in permanently,” he said, feeling a warm glow. “Oh, and you can find another place to bunk for the night, can’t you?” She’d have to get used to the lack of privacy, but maybe not just yet.

  Janna wasn’t far behind, and quick to oversee the arrangements. She saw her little cot and the curtain left in the wagon, but Braeden caught her eye and shook his head. He hoped she didn’t mind and judging by her blush and smile, she didn’t.

  Now the sun couldn’t go down soon enough. Cook fires had long been going, roasting real meat and the wagon-mounted ovens disgorged hundreds of loaves of hot, fresh bread. There would be a feast of sorts to celebrate everyone surviving the day and getting back together with friends and family.

  Braeden was glad to see Janna and Franca laughing together over something, and the two of them sat down on either side of him. “My two favorite girls.” He grinned. “Glad to see you’re getting a bit to eat.” Both had bread trenchers piled high with steaming meat and vegetables.

  “I’m so hungry I don’t care what kind of meat this is.” Janna sighed before digging in.

  “Even horse?” Franca asked, a gleam in her eye.

  “Except for horse. I used to not care, but now I think of poor old Zoltan or darling Kazmir, and I just couldn’t.”

  “Darling Kazmir?” Franca snorted and rolled her eyes. “Don’t ever let him hear you call him that.”

  Braeden was happier than he had been in a long time. It had been a good few days, riding across peaceful countryside and cuddled up with Janna during the cool nights. He’d had a good tussle with real soldiers this morning and looked fo
rward to a pretty girl in his bed very soon. And not just any pretty girl. He looked sideways at Janna and she caught his eye, blushing again.

  Janna helped clean up after the meal, but Braeden didn’t go far so he wouldn’t lose track of her in the crowds milling around the fires. She seemed surprised to see him, when she came back up from the nearby creek, wiping her hands on her apron. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

  “I wanted to.” He reached down and took one of her hands, still damp and cold from the water. “Did you want to sit by the fire with the others for a bit, or …” He suddenly felt as shy as a boy.

  “Let’s go back to the tent.” She squeezed his hand. “Before Gergo comes back.”

  “He won’t tonight,” Braeden said. “I told him to bunk down elsewhere.”

  “You turfed the poor boy out?”

  “I did. He’ll be all right. He’s been courting a laundress much too slowly. Perhaps she’ll take pity on him tonight so he can speed things up.”

  “You’re very efficient.” Janna laughed, still holding his hand and falling in beside him. Everyone else was by the fires or taking care of the horses, so it was dark between the tents.

  Braeden took advantage of the darkness to stop, grab Janna around the waist and pull her close so he could finally kiss her. They were both laughing when they pulled apart and gasping for air.

  “I liked that,” Janna said. “No one has ever kissed me like that. Can we do it again?”

  After that, they were in a hurry to find the tent. Gergo had left a lamp burning, and Braeden tied the flap off tight. No visitors tonight. “I hoped you didn’t mind that I …” He nodded toward his cot.

  “Oh, not at all.” Her cheeks were bright red, which suited her terribly well. “After the last few weeks, I would have hated to sleep apart from you again.”

  “Me too. Do you need help with your dress?”

  She obligingly unbuttoned his shirt while he unlaced her bodice. They’d left Atlona in such a hurry, he never had gotten her anything nicer.

  It was chilly in the tent, so they were quick to crawl under the covers, which were even colder at first. They didn’t stay cold for long.

  Afterward, she lay curled up against his side, with his arm around her while his other hand stroked the side of her face.

  “That was nice,” she said after a while.

  “It was.”

  “I’m very relieved, you know.”

  “You are? Why?”

  “I thought for a while you didn’t want me, that you might never want me. Because of what happened.”

  “Oh, I don’t care about that at all,” Braeden said. “Those things happen all the time. I thought you might never want me because of that though.”

  “I just needed some time, but now I’m ready.” She leaned in to kiss him, long and soft.

  Much later, they were both very sleepy, when he thought of something. “I’ll marry you as soon as I can,” he said.

  That seemed to rouse her. “Oh, you don’t have to.” She smiled at him. “I understand you aren’t the type and I don’t want you to do it if you aren’t.”

  “Who told you I wasn’t the type?” Braeden frowned.

  “Everyone. Well, everyone except Senta who was sure you were just waiting for the right woman.”

  “Turns out Senta is right, as usual.”

  Gwynneth

  Gwynneth walked to the outer gate alone. She had filled the castle’s cellars and stores to bursting and everyone who needed to be inside was safe. All but one.

  He came alone, peeling off from the column that had marched across the bridge. When he saw her, he jumped off his horse and ran to her. She pulled him into her arms and held him for a long time. When they broke apart, she gasped at the sight of him. He was pale and gaunt, his face covered in soot. His eyes, still that beautiful blue she had always loved, were weary and bloodshot. He was still her Kendryk but not quite the same one who’d sent her away several weeks ago.

  She felt tears well up and pushed them down with an enormous effort. She had to be strong for him now. It wouldn’t be much longer. “Can you come inside?”

  He nodded and picked up the horse’s reins. It had been standing patiently behind him.

  “How long?”

  “Until morning. Count Faris is setting up our guns and what troops are left on the two hills behind the palace.”

  She took his arm, and they walked inside the castle walls. Behind them, the gate clanged shut. They were taking no chances now. “How far away is Teodora?”

  “Close. You might see her fires tonight. Faris will blow the bridge when everyone has crossed over and burn the village.” His tone was as flat and casual as if he had been discussing plans for a hunting party. But then, he’d seen a fair number of bridges blown and villages burned these past few days.

  She wanted to beg him to stay with them in the castle, but she was sure it would do no good.

  By now they had wound their way up into the castle courtyard. Someone came and took the horse. Kendryk looked around at the supplies stacked against the walls. “You’re a marvel.” He turned to her. “I’m so glad you came back. Forgive me for sending you away. I was out of my head …”

  “Shh … we’ll talk later. Now you must visit the children before their bedtime, and I’m sure you’ll want to see Edric Maximus.”

  “So he came? I’m glad.”

  They climbed the winding stone stairs to the makeshift nursery in the sunniest room of the tower. She hoped it was also the safest. She rocked the baby and held back her tears while the older two flung themselves at him. They had always loved him the most; it wasn’t fair they should lose him.

  A wild thought flashed through her head. What if she could detain him here while she took his place in the field? Right now she would put her head on the block in front of Teodora if it would save him. But she knew him and even if she managed it, he would never forgive her. And that was worse than anything. Even worse than losing him.

  So she somehow held back her tears, swallowed down the knot in her throat and ignored the painful one in her middle while she watched him play with the children.

  As the sky darkened, Kendryk’s smile fled. “Give me the baby.” Little Andres had long been asleep in Gwynneth’s arms. Kendryk kissed him on the forehead, then handed him to the nurse to put to bed.

  He turned to Devyn and knelt to look him in the eye. “I have to go again and might not be back for a while. Can you be good and do whatever Mama tells you to?”

  Devyn nodded and yawned. Kendryk smiled and pulled him close, then kissed him before handing him to Gwynneth.

  She turned to put him to bed herself because she didn’t think she could bear to watch him say goodbye to Maryna. She was old enough to understand that something was wrong and now she clung crying to Kendryk’s neck.

  “Don’t go don’t go,” she sobbed. “I’m so afraid Papa. I will never see you again if you go.”

  “You will.” Kendryk held her close, stroking her back. Gwynneth stared at them appalled, but his eyes met hers and they were clear and resolute. “You will, I promise. I’m not sure how long it will be. But you will.” Kendryk kissed her one more time, wiped the tears from her face, and rose to leave.

  Gwynneth grabbed at his hand once they were outside the door. “I can’t bear it.”

  “You can.” His voice was different now. Something about being with the children had helped him. “I’ll go visit Landrus now for a little while. Can you get me a bath and something to eat? Then I’m yours for the rest of the night.”

  She made her way to her chambers. Smoke stung her nostrils, and she leaned out one of her windows. Flames mingled with smoke came from the village below. According to Kendryk’s instructions, she had evacuated it yesterday. She’d brought the blacksmith, the baker, their children, and a few elderly seamstresses and laundresses into the castle, sending everyone else to Runewald.

  Gwynneth ordered supper and a bath, then waited for Kendryk
. He wasn’t gone long.

  “Can you help me with this?” He struggled with the buckles of the rusty cuirass he still wore.

  Gwynneth got it off him, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the dirty, sweat-caked shirt beneath.

  Once undressed, Kendryk slid into the still-steaming tub. “Oh, this is marvelous. Can you believe it’s been weeks since I’ve had a bath?”

  “I can.” Gwynneth picked up his shirt with one finger and tossed it into the fire. “A military encampment must have a marvelous scent.”

  “You have no idea.” Kendryk scrubbed at his blackened arms. “Though you get used to it after a while. I didn’t realize how awful I must look and smell until I saw you standing there, all clean and pretty.”

  Gwynneth knelt down next to the tub to wash his hair, just as she’d always done.

  “Did you have a good visit with Edric Maximus?” she asked, more to distract herself from how thin he looked than because she cared.

  “It wasn’t happy. But I’m glad we spoke and I’m glad he’s safe. I owe that to you. If you hadn’t done all of that, he’d be a captive of the Sanova Hussars right now.”

  “That man has a lot to answer for,” Gwynneth said, scrubbing at Kendryk’s neck harder than necessary.

  “So do we, darling. I hope the two of you can learn to be friends.”

  “Hmph. It’s all I can do to be civil.”

  “I understand. Now get me out of here. I’m starving, and not just for food.”

  They rushed through supper, and Gwynneth was just as anxious as he was to crawl into bed and feel his skin against hers at last. There’d been a time when she thought it would never happen again and she nearly cried, relieved that he still wanted her.

  She had feared that the cold, formal Kendryk who’d sent her away would return today, caring only about the children and Landrus. She didn’t know why he had changed back to the man who loved her, but there was one more thing.

  Gwynneth sighed, sat up and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to bring this up, but it’s very important. I understand if you can’t or won’t, but I have to ask …”

 

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