The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  “Soon.” Orland laughed again and ruffled Anton’s hair with a gauntleted hand. “There’ll be more than enough fighting to go around.”

  Thank you for reading Rise of the Storm!

  Cast of Characters

  Kendryk II Bernotas, Prince of Terragand

  Gwynneth Roussay, Princess of Norovaea and Terragand, Kendryk’s wife.

  Their children: Maryna, Devyn, Andres

  Kendryk’s father: Edwyn V Bernotas (deceased)

  Kendryk’s brother: Lukan III Bernotas (deceased)

  Kendryk’s mother: Rikarda Sebesta, Duchess of Bonnenruck (deceased)

  Evard Bernotas, Duke of Terragand-Emberg, Kendryk’s uncle His son, Balduin, Count of Holstein

  Rheda Bernotas, Princess of Helvundala, Kendryk’s aunt. Married to Bronson Falk, Prince of Helvundala

  Andres V Roussay, King of Norovaea, Gwynneth’s father

  His son, Arryk Roussay, heir to the throne

  Ruso Faris, Count of Bryda, chief adviser to Kendryk

  Julia Maxima, religious leader of Terragand

  Edric Landrus, Priest of the Runewald temple

  Avaron Dancey, Countess of Winsebach- lady-in-waiting to Princess Gwynneth

  Linette Trevin- Baroness of Kralfeld, a lady-in-waiting to Princess Gwynneth

  Edson- a male servant at Birkenhof

  Halvor- Gwynneth’s secretary

  Merton- a member of Kendryk’s household guard

  Etta Darstel- a doctor with Kendryk’s army

  Catrin, Gwynneth’s maid

  Aidan Orland, Duke of Kaltental-Terragand

  Arian Orland, Count of Hornfels, son of Aidan

  Ossian Schurtz- mercenary officer in the employ of Arian Orland

  Flavia Maxima- religious leader in Isenwald

  Octavius Maximus- religious leader in Helvundala

  * * *

  The Kronland Rulers

  Eldrid Benda, Prince of Lantura

  Floreta Bensen, Princess of Brandana

  Ossian Dahlby, Prince of Ummarvik

  Dristan Fabrey, Prince of Aquianus

  Bronson Falk, Prince of Helvundala

  Viviane Kasbirk, Princess of Isenwald

  Keylinda Marthaler, Princess of Fromenberg

  Edyta Martinek, Princess of Podoska

  Herryk Peloso, Prince of Tirilis

  Gallena Sebesta- Princess of Oltena and Kendryk’s aunt

  Alarys Zelenka, Princess of Arcius

  * * *

  Moralta

  Braeden Terris, mercenary commander with the Sanova Hussars

  Vluda Novitny, Prince of Galeva, commander of the Sanova Hussars

  Reno Torresia- a captain in the Sanova Hussars, his wife Senta and their daughters Adela, Cara and Trisa

  Miro Blavic- a lieutenant of the Sanova Hussars

  Franca Dura- a Sanova Hussar

  Gergo- servant to Braeden

  Kazmir- Braeden Terris’s horse

  Karil Andarosz- a Marjatyan hostage

  Zoltan, a retired warhorse

  Zluba, headwoman of Moraltan town of Martiz, her son, Jonni

  Daciana Tomescu- guerilla commander and friend of Teodora

  Dimir Kronek- a Kaleva merchant and rebel

  Janna Beran Kronek- Dimir’s wife

  Anton Kronek, son of Dimir, stepson of Janna

  Anyezka Kronek, daughter of Dimir, stepdaughter of Janna

  Dimir’s country relatives: Bora, Disla, Dusek, Irina and Seko

  Ivor, Greta and Franz Kalina, refugees from Kaleva

  Maya, inn-keeper at the Sanova crossroads

  Betha- an old farm woman, her son Havil, his wife Gerda and their daughter Petra

  * * *

  Olvisya

  Teodora Inferrara, Empress of Olvisya, Queen of Moralta and Marjatya

  Raynard Ahrend, Count of Marsbach, Prince of Olvisya, consort to Teodora

  Their children: Elektra, Berenika and Rudofo

  Livilla Maxima, religious leader in Olvisya

  Ahbert Solteszy , Duke of Halavo, Head of the Imperial Council and Teodora’s closest political adviser

  Brytta Prosnytz- secretary and lady in waiting to Teodora

  Kypris Arseo- ambassador to Zastwar

  Demario Barela- Maladene general working for Teodora

  Niklas Ensden, Count of Herzbirg, Teodora’s primary military commander

  Andor Korma- Marjatyan rebel leader

  * * *

  Other countries and kingdoms

  Gauvain Brevard, King of Galladium and childhood friend of Kendryk

  Acon Benet (deceased), theologian, Kendryk’s mentor in Galladium

  Natalya Maxima, religious leader in Galladium

  Beatryz Inferrara- Queen of Maladena, cousin to Teodora

  Ottylia Sikora- Queen of Sanova and married to Atinos Inferrara, Teodora’s brother

  Imperata Vittoriana- head of The Faith in Forli

  * * *

  The Holy Family

  Osgan, the father god

  Saira, the mother goddess

  Vica, the sister goddess

  Ercos, the son god

  Valley of the Shadow

  The Desolate Empire

  Book Two

  A Novel by

  * * *

  Christina Ochs

  Kendryk

  Somewhere, someone was moaning. First the sound seemed distant, but it came ever closer, finally waking him. He opened his eyes with difficulty, feeling as though weights hung from his lids. Then the pain hit him in a wave, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. The wave crested and receded just enough for him to tell it was coming from his right leg. Something about that leg niggled at his consciousness, but he couldn’t call it forth.

  Another wave hit and he cried out before he could stop himself. It was only when the jostling stopped that he realized he’d been moving all along. Light flooded over him, burning his eyes, and through a squint, he saw a face swim into view. It was a woman’s, small, pointed and mouse-like, with something like a hat on top of it. Kendryk tried to open his eyes further, but the light was still too bright.

  A cool hand touched his forehead and a sharp voice said, “The fever is strong. Send a message that we must stop or he will die.”

  Kendryk wondered who was dying. He heard a sound of protest, and the sharp voice replied, “Do it. I’ll deal with her myself if need be.” When the next wave hit, he realized he’d been holding his breath, and a whimper broke out against his will. He felt the cool hand again. “Can you speak?”

  After a moment he realized she was talking to him. “I think so,” he croaked through gritted teeth, his throat dry.

  “Good,” she said. “I will give you something for the pain. It won’t make it go away altogether, but will help for a time.” A spoon materialized above his face and a liquid slid between his parched lips, cooling his throat as it went down.

  “Thirsty,” he croaked again.

  “I know,” she said. “But first you need more of this.”

  He didn’t ask what it was, just parted his lips again. The pain returned, but was muted already. He knew what she had given him, but wasn’t able to remember its name. He found he didn’t care.

  With the pain receding to the edge of his consciousness, he tried to get his bearings. He looked up at dirty white canvas, stretched over ribs of light wood. He wondered if he was in a tent, then remembered the motion. No, a wagon. Why would he be in a wagon? He must be hurt and someone was taking him to safety. But safety from what?

  He thought hard but didn’t find an answer. He decided he might as well ask. “Who are you?” he croaked. The woman was doing something to his leg.

  “Sybila,” she said. “I’m a physician.”

  That was good. “Do you work for me?”

  “No,” she shook her head. “I do not. I’m so sorry.”

  He didn’t understand why she would be and attempted a smile. “It’s all right. Who do you work for?”

  “Oh de
ar. You don’t remember what happened, do you?”

  Kendryk carefully shook his head. He wondered if rocks were rolling around where his brain should be.

  “Hmm.” She frowned. “I don’t wish to upset you because it might kill you.”

  “You’d better tell me anyway.” He tried to smile again though foreboding niggled at him.

  “I suppose I should. I’m personal physician to Empress Teodora, and you are her prisoner.”

  Kendryk felt a vague shock. He tried to remember what had happened, but couldn’t. “How?”

  “You fought in a terrible battle,” she said. “Your horse fell on you and your right leg is broken in two places.”

  “That’s what hurts, then.”

  “Yes. I’m afraid I had to set it rather violently, at which point you passed out. You didn’t wake up again until just now. I worried I’d killed you.”

  Kendryk’s brain tried and failed to make a connection. “What does this have to do with the empress?”

  Sybila sighed. “After you were wounded, the empress made you her prisoner. She is taking you to Atlona, where I imagine you will stay for some time.” She paused. “If you live.”

  “So, I might not live?” When he said it, it didn’t sound so terrible.

  “I don’t know,” Sybila said. “The broken leg is healing well enough. But the wound around it got dirty and now you have a terrible fever.”

  “That might kill me.” The idea didn’t bother him overmuch.

  “Yes, it might. It doesn’t help that you’ve been bouncing in this cart for the last six days. I can’t take care of you properly.”

  “Six days? Where are we?”

  “Somewhere in Lantura. I’ve asked that we stop for a day at least, though her highness won’t like it. But I’m sure she’s eager to keep you alive, so maybe she’ll agree.”

  Kendryk remembered something. “No, she wants to kill me.”

  Sybila laughed. “Oh, she does. But she has other reasons for keeping you alive and those will win out, I hope.”

  Kendryk couldn’t remember what those reasons were, although he was certain he knew at one time. He was exhausted and had figured out little except who and where he was. He had no recollection of battles or horses or anything else of the sort. His teeth chattered.

  Sybila pulled a blanket up to his chin. “I realize you’re hot, but it’s freezing outside and I don’t want you taking a a chill. Try to sleep, and I’ll be back soon. Her highness may wish to see you, so try not to be upset if she appears. If you like, I’ll tell her you aren’t able to speak yet.”

  Kendryk agreed, though he wasn’t sure why. He was suddenly very drowsy, and the light faded as his eyes fell shut.

  Arryk

  Arryk read the letter on horseback, then stuffed it into his pocket after dismounting. “The king must see this,” he muttered to himself. He entered the palace from the stable-yard, then took the main staircase two at a time, heedless of the mud he left on the Zastwar carpet.

  Arryk passed the guards standing at the doors to the king’s personal wing as if they weren’t there. He knew they had orders to stop him, but they’d never dare. The long corridor was quiet, but more guards stood before the bedchamber. Two doctors conversed in hushed tones at a small table in the corner just outside.

  “Is the king alone?” Arryk asked without slowing down.

  “The duke is with him,” one doctor said. “He asked not to be disturbed.”

  “Of course.” Arryk gave the guards a friendly nod as he pushed the door open. He practiced swordplay with them several times a week. They wouldn’t stop him either.

  There was sudden darkness inside the bedchamber. Arryk wrinkled his nose at the stuffy air, redolent of illness and ointments, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. A single small lamp burned in the corner, far from the bed on which the king lay.

  Norvel Classen rose from a chair. Immensely fat, he blocked the already meager light. “The king needs to rest,” he said sharply, adding, “Your Grace,” just a second too late.

  “I know,” Arryk said. “You should leave him alone so he can.”

  Classen opened his mouth to reply, but stopped.

  “This won’t take long.” Arryk waved the letter and looked for a seat. He found a plain wooden chair and pulled it up to the bed while Classen stood, a disapproving frown creasing his broad forehead.

  “Father,” Arryk said, “I have more news about Gwynneth.”

  The king was awake, but seemed barely aware of Arryk. He turned his head slightly and his eyelids fluttered. Arryk took that as permission to go ahead. “Terragand is a disaster.” He placed the letter on top of the brocade coverlet. “Empress Teodora has defeated Kendryk and taken him prisoner.”

  “That’s the end of it then,” Classen said, sounding rather too satisfied.

  “Hardly,” Arryk said. “Ruso Faris escaped with a remnant of his infantry and is headed for Zeelund. Arian Orland is also at large with his cavalry intact. But best of all, our Gwynneth still holds Birkenfels.”

  “That’s excellent news,” Classen said, although Arryk was looking at the king. “She can trade the castle for her husband’s life.”

  “She will not. My sister is made of better stuff than that. She will hold Birkenfels until I can relieve her. Surely you’ll give me permission to sail to Kronland now?” He looked at his father intently, but the king’s face was slack and unresponsive. The doctors had said that the attack had taken his speech, but Arryk wondered if Classen had put the story about to keep others away. “Father?” Arryk asked again.

  “You should not trouble his highness with this sort of news. It’s upsetting.” Classen glowered at Arryk.

  “It’s important.” Arryk felt heat rising up his neck, but did his best to stay calm. “Gwynneth is his daughter, and the honor of our family and our country is at stake. What will everyone think if we abandon her? It’s a sign of weakness.”

  “The princess created her own problems and is capable of solving them herself. We will of course welcome her here should the empress exile her along with the prince.”

  “That is unacceptable.” Arryk curbed his temper with some effort. “I refuse to see my sister humiliated in that way. It’s time we intervened.”

  “We cannot intervene now,” Classen said. “The empress is far stronger than she was a few months ago. I’m sure she’ll meet any attempt to relieve the princess with considerable force.”

  “Perhaps. But we are more than a match for the empress.”

  Classen made a huffing noise that might have been contemptuous. “I doubt it very much. I understand Prince Kendryk could match her numbers and yet she defeated him in a matter of hours.”

  “This latest dispatch says he lost half his army after being struck by plague.”

  “All the same, Teodora’s force is impressive and experienced. Our troops are green and poorly trained.”

  Since Arryk was responsible for training, he took this as an obvious slur. “Mind your words Classen. You understand little of these matters.”

  Classen seemed unintimidated. Arryk was not eager for his father to die, but he looked forward to the day he could send the duke to a well-deserved, premature retirement.

  “My soldiers may be inexperienced, but they are full of fire. They would give everything to save Princess Gwynneth.” He made a note to himself to drill them more diligently. The hunting season had been excellent, and he had neglected his military duties as he often did this time of year.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Classen said. “I too am fond of Princess Gwynneth, but she no longer belongs to Norovaea. This is an imperial affair and we cannot interfere.”

  “Of course she belongs to Norovaea. If something should happen to me, she will become queen. It’s impossible that she lose this fight. I won’t allow it.”

  “It appears you must.” Classen looked down at the king’s still form. “The king cannot authorize any kind of action.”

  “You can act for
him.” Arryk didn’t try hiding his impatience. “You do it every day.”

  “Oh, I can carry on with administrative tasks, but I cannot approve of military action against a foreign power on his behalf. I’m afraid you and the princess must wait until the king recovers.”

  “He won’t.” Arryk looked down at his father once more, then stood. “We both know that. We also both know that I will be king when he dies. And when I’m king, we shall sail for Kronland at once. We should do it now, before it’s too late. It would have been better if we had helped Kendryk sooner, but we can still do something.”

  “I don’t agree,” Classen said. “And as long as your father draws breath, you must do what he orders. He trusted me to let me rule on his behalf, and I will continue to do so. I’m sorry you are not satisfied.”

  Arryk walked to the door and paused before opening it. “I’m also sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t accept your answer. You’ll hear from me again.” He let the door fall shut behind him with a bang. Classen was far too arrogant. No matter how sick the king was, a royal family member, and not some jumped-up clerk should make the big decisions. Arryk would talk to his brother.

  Braeden

  “Sir, we’re making camp just beyond the crossroads,” Trisa said.

  “Isn’t it early?” Braeden asked. With the days so short they rarely stopped before dark.

  Trisa shrugged. “I suppose so. Don’t know much except the order came down from the empress herself and Papa wanted me to tell you.” Trisa was eager to become a page, though Reno and Braeden both agreed she could start by delivering messages. Braeden thought a twelve-year-old girl was still too young to take into combat.

  “All right, we’ll come in as soon as I round everyone up.”

  Braeden had headed up a scouting party since there had been rumors of other cavalry in the area. So far, they had seen nothing, but the land was hilly and wooded, and it was easy for a smaller force to stay hidden. But now, with night falling and snow swirling on the wind, he was happy to stop. By the time he returned, servants would have put his tent up and Janna would have made it warm and comfortable. It was nice to have someone waiting for him.