The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  Daciana grinned, her fangs showing. “That should be fun. Martinek—aren’t they the ones who grind their enemy’s bodies into a pulp which they plow into their fields? It’s said they grow the most delicious peaches there because of it.”

  “That’s the story,” Teodora said. “And it might be true. They’re known for being strange and barbaric. Still, with most of their army gone, they’ll have a hard time resisting you. And I would think you’d enjoy it if the peasantry was fiercer than usual.”

  “I do, but it’s hard on the regular recruits who go foraging and end up with their guts pulled out through their necks, or worse. Though I don’t mind seeing the common-folk stand up for themselves like that. I realize you don’t agree, but you know what I’m like.”

  “I do,” Teodora said, with a fond smile. “And I don’t fault you. I imagine if I were a peasant I wouldn’t take kindly to enemy troops plundering my home and raping my daughters, though I doubt they’d want mine. She’s such an unattractive girl.”

  “Who, Elektra? She’s likely just in an awkward stage.”

  “That’s what Livilla says, but I worry. It’s ever so much easier to get what you want from people if you’re good-looking.”

  “Only if you don’t like using force.” Daciana laughed and poured the last of the wine into her glass. “But I know what you mean. I still don’t think you should worry. Remember what a sight I was when we first met? And I wasn’t much older than your Elektra.”

  “Of course I remember. But your life had been very different. Elektra has had it so easy; always had enough of everything. Perhaps too much.”

  “Most children have too little. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt her to be a little spoiled. Far better she learn to keep what she has than have to claw it away from others. Though I imagine she’ll have plenty of that to do.”

  “Not if I can help it. By the time I die—which please Vica, will not be for many years—I plan to leave Elektra with a powerful, well-run empire. She needs only the wit to manage it.”

  “I’m sure she will have it. She’s your daughter, after all. Now, let’s open another bottle of wine and you can tell me if these rumors about you and General Barela are true.”

  Braeden

  “Do you have a moment, Doctor?” Braeden asked, ducking into the largest medical tent.

  “Braeden!” Ashia Toure turned from the basin where she was scrubbing her hands. “Are you well?”

  “Well enough.” He’d known Doctor Toure since she’d dug a big chunk of shot out of his calf several years before. She’d also delivered Iryna, her knowledge and quick thinking saving both Janna and the baby’s life. Braeden had given her a large bag of silver for that.

  He wasn’t certain where she was from. He’d never seen anyone with such dark skin and had heard she came from the southern lands of Neviar, where they mixed medicine with magic. Braeden didn’t know about the magic and didn’t want to ask, but there was no question Toure was better at medicine than most doctors he’d met.

  His face must have given away more than he realized. “Something’s bothering you,” she said. “Why don’t we sit? I could use a break after that amputation.”

  “I’m sure Janna’s told you she’s pregnant again.”

  The doctor nodded. “She came to me right away, for which I was glad. I hope this time there will be no complications.”

  “Is it likely, because she had them last time?”

  “Not necessarily. Each pregnancy is different. Still, she’s so small, and I understand has been through some difficulties in the past few years. I should like to keep a close eye on her health in general.”

  “I agree.” It was a relief to talk about it with someone he didn’t need to risk upsetting. “I worry too. I’ve already asked her to ride in a cart instead of on horseback, but even that can be difficult. The army is no place for a pregnant woman.”

  “It’s not. But babies don’t stop being born because there’s a war.”

  “They should know better,” Braeden joked. “I’ve tried to persuade her to go live in a town somewhere.”

  “That would certainly be best. I suppose she doesn’t want to?”

  “No, she doesn’t. I don’t like to leave her either, but I’m worried, even with you here. Could you persuade her?”

  Doctor Toure sighed. “I can try. She ought to be in a warm, dry house with servants to do the hard work and look after Iryna. I should like to see her rest and gain some weight. She was sick while you were away and lost too much.”

  “She’s worried about being trapped someplace unsafe. It’s happened to her before.”

  “I see. Atlona would be best, but it’s too far for her to travel. Have you considered Kersenstadt?”

  “I haven’t, but maybe I should. Mattila seems to think it’s important. She wants to fill it with arms and supplies, and use it as one of her biggest depots. I imagine she’ll keep it well-guarded.”

  “I’m sure she will. It’s also a larger town so it’s easy to find good lodging and servants. Even better, I have a colleague there who is something of a specialist in delivering babies. He would be ideal to check on her and be there when her time comes.”

  Hope swelled up inside him. “I’d pay him well to give Janna extra attention. Could you tell me his name?”

  The doctor turned and scribbled something, then handed Braeden the note. “You can write to him or call on him. I’m sure we’ll stop in Kersenstadt on our way east. You can at least speak with him and make preparations for later, if she doesn’t want to go now. I suspect that once she becomes more uncomfortable and the weather worsens, it will be easier to convince her.”

  “I hope so.” Braeden decided to write to the doctor that day. No need to say anything to Janna just yet.

  Kendryk

  By now Kendryk was so lethargic even the sudden light and noise took too long to rouse him. Hope flickered, quickly replaced by dread, since no good had ever come of an unexpected visit. As long as he ate most of his food and didn’t make loud noises, no one bothered him. Ever. He had lost track of time altogether and hadn’t spoken to another person in months. Or maybe it had been years. It didn’t matter.

  He almost hoped this would be the end. There was no point in going on like this. Two guards strode into his cell and grabbed him by each arm. Kendryk wobbled. Of late, he hadn’t even tried to exercise. He crawled on the floor, like an animal. He probably looked like one too.

  They dragged him stumbling into the dark corridor. Nothing but torchlight flickered, but it was still brighter than anything Kendryk had seen since he’d been force-fed so long ago.

  “What’s this about?” he croaked.

  The guards didn’t answer. They dragged him down a long corridor and up several flights of stairs. By then, Kendryk was gasping for air. To his surprise, it was daylight. The deep slits in the stone showed blue sky and fluffy clouds coasting across it. As they passed one, a slight breeze blew over him. He grinned.

  He was about to collapse when they shoved him into a small room with one window. It provided just enough light that he saw who awaited him. He tried to force himself to smile, but failed.

  “Your Highness,” he croaked.

  “Darling.” Teodora seemed to have no trouble smiling that nasty one she had. “You look terrible.”

  “You look lovely as always,” Kendryk gasped, collapsing into a chair. She sat across the room from him, which wasn’t far. He calculated the distance, but reckoned he couldn’t reach her in one step. With the guards standing right there, he didn’t have a chance. Not that he would try it. He was unarmed and weaker than he’d ever been. Still, it would be a way to get it over with quickly.

  “There’s no need to play nice with me,” she said, still smiling.

  “It comes naturally,” he said, tired already.

  Her smile disappeared. “Good. I need you to be nice enough to cooperate. I’ve had enough of your stubbornness and it’s not doing anyone any good.”

  �
�It’s not doing you any good,” Kendryk said. “You wouldn’t be here if things were going your way.”

  “Oh, they’re going my way, just not as quickly as I’d like. You have the power to speed them up.”

  “By doing what? Abdicating? You already took care of that for me.”

  “I want you to do it formally and publicly. You might beg my forgiveness and I might even grant it. I can imagine the most charming ceremony. We’d get you fit again first, and presentable. It would make a pretty picture, the two of us embracing as friends after you admit your youthful errors.”

  Kendryk’s anger surprised him. He hadn’t felt any emotion for so long. “That will never happen. I will never beg forgiveness from you for anything. Ever.”

  “I’ve been too lenient with you.” Teodora’s voice was flat. “I treat you better than my own children.”

  “I doubt that’s true, though I don’t envy the poor things, having you for a mother.”

  She was on him like a flash, her slap stinging his cheek, and then he fell out of the chair, her weight crushing him. Her fist crashed into his eye, and she pinned his arms to the floor with her knees. Kendryk couldn’t move.

  He closed his eyes and the next punch hit his jaw. The power of her blows shouldn’t have surprised him. By the time she was through with him, both eyes were swelling shut, blood dripped from his nose and ran from his lip. A few teeth had loosened. It was a relief as her weight lifted, but before he could enjoy it, she delivered a sharp kick to his ribs. He heard the crunch and the pain was sharper than anything he’d felt since the battle.

  He couldn’t see her, but she grabbed him by the hair and whispered in his ear. “Think about it. Next time I’ll bring a professional, and that will be much worse.”

  Braeden

  Braeden wondered if they’d ever find Seward Kurant. He and his army seemed to have marched out of Podoska and disappeared.

  “Think he got around us and linked up with King Arryk?” Novitny wondered.

  “No,” Mattila snapped. “We would have heard. I have reliable sources in the king’s camp. No, Kurant is out there, but his force isn’t large and the population will be friendly toward him. They won’t tell us anything.” She tapped a finger on the map laying in front of her. “We’ll do this instead. I must stop at Kersenstadt and make sure it’s well stocked as a base for me to march on Arryk. We won’t bother going any further east from there, though. We’ll fortify it, supply it and head west.”

  “At our current strength, we can easily take on Arryk. I’d rather not face Emilya Hohenwart, but she’s far to the north and I doubt she’ll join Arryk before winter. Arian Orland is out of play for now, but might be back by spring, along with Faris. I want to strike the king, and strike him hard before that happens.”

  Then followed a lengthy discussion of armaments and wagons and troop dispositions. Braeden tried to pay attention, but General Mattila’s tent was packed with all of her staff and it was warm. He found it hard to stay awake. Iryna had a tooth coming in and had cried much of the night, so he was hoping for a nap if the meeting ended soon.

  Mattila droned on while Archduchess Elektra scribbled notes. Braeden wondered if she was reporting all of this to her mother. After awhile, another general spoke; some old fellow with an unpronounceable Marjatyan name and long white hair. Braeden had to make considerable effort to keep his eyes open.

  There was a sudden commotion and a young man burst into the tent. “We’re under attack,” he said, skidding to a stop.

  Everyone jumped up at once. Braeden realized there’d been no sound of guns or other noise. “Where?” Mattila asked calmly.

  “The camp.”

  Braeden’s heart jumped into his throat, though he knew the camp was vast.

  “What part of the camp, you idiot?” Mattila snapped.

  “Sanova’s. They’re trying to make off with the horses.”

  “Raiders then,” Mattila said, still calm, as Braeden and Novitny shot out of the tent and ran. Braeden tried not to panic.

  Novitny read his thoughts. “They’ll leave the tents alone, most likely. Probably gone already with some excellent horseflesh, the cursed devils.”

  Braeden hoped he was right.

  Their part of the camp seemed far away. By now others had heard of the attack and milled about in some excitement, although no one seemed inclined to act. “We’re under attack,” Braeden shouted, not caring if he started a panic. “Anyone bearing arms, follow me now!”

  As they neared the Sanovan encampment, they made a well-armed crowd. It was hard to tell how many raiders there were. Several tents were on fire and people ran around screaming while riders chased them down.

  Braeden pulled a short sword from his belt and waded in. He’d prefer to be on horseback with an ax, but he didn’t know where the horses were and he had to stop the raiders now.

  A woman holding a baby ran toward Braeden, a raider bearing down on her fast. Braeden pushed the woman behind him and stood in the pony’s path. The woman on its back didn’t have time to slow down, but lifted her curved blade and shifted slightly to meet Braeden. His blade was much shorter, but he waited for her swing, then darted underneath, grabbing her leg and pulling her to the ground.

  It wasn’t until after Braeden had cut her throat that he realized he needed to take someone alive for questioning. Though he had a good idea of who was behind this, it made little sense and there were others who operated in the same fashion. Mattila would want specific information.

  Now that they faced armed opposition, the raiders melted away. A few had been stopped, but except for one, they were all dead. Much as he wanted to make sure that Janna and Iryna were all right, Braeden forced himself to see the prisoner first.

  The man’s face was filthy and covered with blood, but he laughed at Braeden while spitting out broken teeth. “Didn’t think to ever see you again. Can’t say I’m glad to.”

  Braeden recognized the fellow as one he’d arrested years ago during his first run-in with the empress’s favorite marauder. He grabbed him by the jacket and hauled him to his feet. “What is Tomescu doing here? These are the empress’s troops.”

  The man laughed harder. “Doubt very much your general would call them that.”

  “We’ll see about that. You’ll be talking to her shortly.” Braeden handed him off to another trooper with instructions to take him straight to Mattila. He needed to find Janna.

  It took a few minutes to orient himself since the camp was in such confusion. To his relief, only a few tents had been pulled down or set on fire. By the time he reached his, all was quiet and dark. He ducked his head inside. It was dark, cold and silent. He wondered if Janna had gone to take refuge with one of her friends. “Janna,” he called, then listened. “Janna?” a little louder this time. There was a rustle and a whimper.

  “Stay where you are,” he said, “I’m coming.” He fumbled for a tinder and lit a lamp. As soon as Iryna let out a small cry, he saw them. Janna had climbed behind a pile of saddles and blankets and pulled another blanket over her head. She was peeking out from under it. Braeden set the lamp down and picked both of them up and pulled them onto the floor with him. “It’s all right,” he said. “It’s safe now.”

  He could feel Janna trembling as he held her close. Iryna made a noise of protest at being squeezed and pushed away. Braeden took her into his other arm. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  Janna shook her head. She still trembled all over.

  “Hold on.” He put Iryna on the cot, then picked Janna up and put her down next to her. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped her up tight. “I’ll start a fire in a moment. Where’s that good-for-nothing Gergo, anyway?”

  “He went to check on the horses,” Janna said in a small voice. “I hope they didn’t get him.”

  “I hope not, too. Though we don’t know how much damage they did.”

  “It was her,” Janna whispered. “I saw her riding at their head, though she didn’t see me. But why
did she attack us? I thought she was on our side.”

  “It was Tomescu, all right. I recognized one of her men. He’s being questioned by the general so I doubt he’ll be with us much longer. Why she did this, I don’t know. I don’t care either, but Janna …” He pulled her into his arms, “… this is too dangerous. This is why I want you in a city, in a house, behind walls.”

  To his surprise, she nodded, though her tears wet the front of his shirt.

  Teodora

  “How dare she take that tone with me!” Teodora fumed.

  “She’s used to dealing with subordinates,” Livilla said, appearing calm, though Teodora couldn’t help but think the harshness of Mattila’s letter had affected her too.

  Teodora paced the length of the room. “She’s doing it to test me. She thinks she can walk all over me. I’ll show her.”

  “No.” Livilla stood and crossed the room to Teodora. “That’s exactly what she wants. She’s trying to provoke you. She knows of your hot temper from experience and wishes to exploit it. Don’t let her.”

  “I can’t let her get away with this.”

  “What Daciana did was wrong, but I can’t blame her, considering their history. You must curb her, however, at least for now. Perhaps you can use her later.”

  “I don’t want to wait. I want to punish that bitch Mattila right now.”

  “You need her. Once she’s finished off Arryk Roussay, it will be different. With this attitude, she’s sure to overreach herself. In time, she’ll alienate everyone and others will beg you to intervene. But at the moment she’s seen as the Empire’s possible savior.”

  “Once she defeats Arryk, that will only get worse,” Teodora said bitterly. “She’ll receive all of the credit.”

  “She’ll be so ungracious about it, she’ll make far more enemies than friends.”

  “Pfft. A successful general is never short on sycophants.”