The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  “He frightened me the first time I saw him too.” Janna smiled at the memory, wishing she could keep the emotion from welling up. “But he really is kind. I miss him terribly.”

  “Oh come now, ma’am. There’s no need to cry. I’m sure he’ll return soon enough.”

  “I hope so.”

  Arryk

  Arryk’s relief that Larisa had finally agreed was intense. He’d decided not to tell Gwynneth until she returned and otherwise informed only those who needed to know.

  “I realize I can’t tell your highness what to do, but I beg you, please think about it longer,” Magnus said, appalled.

  “I have,” Arryk said. “A lot. I know it would be smart to make a political marriage, but it’s even more important to have Larisa by my side. She knows me and she knows Norovaea. She’ll be a great help to me.”

  “If you say so.” Magnus looked unconvinced.

  “You’ll still be a witness, won’t you?”

  “Of course I will,” Magnus said somewhat impatiently. “It’s not like I can say no.”

  “You can. I’m not ordering you to.”

  “You don’t need to. And I suppose you’ll want to keep it quiet for the time being.”

  “Yes,” Arryk said. “Definitely.”

  The priest was easier to convince. He looked at Larisa and a broad smile spread over his face. “She is certainly the one,” he said.

  Larisa scowled. Probably because she was wearing a dress and a wreath of winter lilies on her head. “I thought King Arryk was the one,” she said.

  “Oh he is.” The priest beamed. “But I’ve done my own studying and it’s my belief that the Holy Scrolls mention a consort to the chosen ruler.”

  “Hmph,” Larisa said. “I hope they don’t mean some princess or other. We don’t want to run afoul of any prophecy, do we?”

  Seeing she was becoming belligerent, Arryk cleared his throat, then took her by the arm. “We must get started.” He was still worried she’d back out at the last minute, or that something would happen to prevent it.

  “Of course,” the priest said. “And you needn’t worry about the prophecy. It’s quite clear to me that the prince’s consort will come from the same country as he does.”

  “Well thank the gods for that.” Larisa allowed Arryk to drag her to the altar.

  The temple was small, dark and drafty, but to Arryk it was the loveliest place in the world. Candles flickered, turning Larisa’s beautiful skin to gold and casting fiery red highlights from her hair hanging loose past her waist.

  Arryk had never minded that she didn’t care about looking pretty like many girls. But he wished there were a way to capture how she looked right now. He was sure she’d never do it again. Although maybe … there would have to be a coronation at some point. He wouldn’t rest until she became queen, even if no one else approved. Surely she would have to wear finery for that.

  “What are you grinning at?” Larisa snapped.

  “You.” Arryk tucked her hand under his arm. “You look so beautiful and I’m very happy to be marrying you.”

  Larisa made an unladylike noise, but when Arryk looked at her sideways, she smiled.

  “I hope marrying me is not too awful for you,” he said, glad now she was coming around.

  “Not too bad. Just don’t expect me to dress up like this every day.”

  “I don’t. I love you just the way you are.”

  “Idiot.”

  The priest cleared his throat. “Shall we start?”

  The vows were short and in the new Quadrene style. They walked around to each icon of the Holy Family and said the words. Arryk couldn’t stop smiling and when he looked at Larisa at the end, her smile was almost as broad as his. It was a relief when the priest pronounced them man and wife and Arryk pulled her into his arms. He swore he’d never let her go.

  Anton

  Even though Anton still felt sad at leaving his friends behind, it was nice to be out of the tight confines of the city. Skandar seemed to like the crisp, cold air, tossed his head so his harness jingled and settled into a canter down the road leading straight south.

  Once they were well away from the city, the count said,”We’re going to Kleeren. I just pray we make it in time and those ships aren’t early.”

  “Why there?” Kleeren was one of the largest western port cities. “I thought all of Kamyla’s ships came to Bonnenruck first.”

  “I found out these two are stopping in Kleeren to unload some of the cargo already sold there. I liked your idea of selling it myself.”

  “Who will you sell it to?”

  “I know a few people and I’ve already sent a message to them. We won’t get what it’s worth, but the proceeds of two ships will be enough for me to fund a small army.”

  “Isn’t it stealing? What if they catch us?”

  “They’ll kill us. Well, maybe not you. Though you’ll probably go to the galleys. But they won’t catch us.”

  Anton hoped he was right.

  The count explained that he’d left his wife a message with some excuse why he had to leave so suddenly in the middle of the night. He reckoned they would get a good head start before she found out it was a lie.

  They rode all night and were in Kleeren by mid-afternoon the next day. Anton had never seen such a busy place. The long waterfront teemed with people and he lost count of the many ships in the large harbor. He wondered how they would find the right ones. At the docks, the count made a few inquiries, then returned looking satisfied. “They’re not here yet. They met up off Galladium and are sailing together. Very convenient for us.”

  They got a room in an inn and Anton tried to get some rest even though he was both worried and excited.

  The count seemed nervous and couldn’t so much as sit down. “Once this happens, we must move fast,” he said, pacing the length of the little room, his boots thumping on the wooden floor.

  “What’s happening? What do I need to do?”

  “Take the horses out of the city tomorrow and meet me at a secret place. Do you think you can manage that?”

  Anton’s mouth felt dry. “What is this place?”

  The count pulled out a map. “Can you read a map?”

  “I don’t know.” Anton remembered looking at maps of Moralta and Marjatya with his father, who tried to explain to him where the goods he sold came from.

  “It’s easy.” The count unrolled the map and laid it across the bed. “Hold that corner down. All right. Here’s Kleeren. See?” He pointed at a large circle on what looked like the edge of the land.

  Anton nodded.

  “I will meet the ships at the docks here with some friends and we’ll sail them here.” The count’s finger slid along the line of the shore until it came to a spot where it curved. “People who can sell the goods quickly and in secret will meet us there and that’s where I’ll get paid. You’ll wait there with the horses because we must head south as fast as we can. We have to get across the border with Floradias and into territory held by Maladena. They can’t do anything to us there.”

  “Why Maladena?”

  “They’ll be pleased that I did a bit of harm to Zeelund shipping. Besides, I’ll make it worth their while.”

  It seemed dangerous. “Who are these people? Will you be safe?”

  “They’re not good people. That’s why I’ll need you to be waiting with the horses. Make sure all of the blades are sharpened tonight and all pistols loaded. It’ll be hard for them to chase us since they won’t have horses as good as ours. It’s very important you be there two nights from now. Do you think you can find the spot?”

  Anton thought he could. He was a little bit scared, but also excited at being trusted with such an important mission all by himself.

  Teodora

  “You sent for me, Your Highness?” A tiny, dark-haired girl stood before Teodora.

  She looked up from her desk. “Yes. Please sit.” She recognized Zofya, her second daughter. Waving at Brytta and Elyse,
she said, “Bring me another light and then leave us.” She needed to inspect the girl more closely.

  “What are you now, twelve?”

  “Yes. Though everyone says I’m mature for my age.”

  Teodora hid a smile. Naturally an archduchess would be constantly flattered by those around her. Now there was more light, she fixed a critical stare upon her daughter. Not bad. Better than Elektra. “That’s good. I have news for you that means you are now an adult.”

  Zofya looked interested, but stayed composed.

  “I’ve just signed an agreement with Natalya Maxima of Allaux. The major part of it concerns your marriage to King Gauvain of Galladium.”

  “What?” Zofya jumped out of her seat. “I’m to be married? Now?”

  “Not right now. You will be officially engaged, once I deal with a few minor matters. Upon your fifteenth birthday, you will travel to Galladium and be married.”

  “But I don’t want to.” Zofya stamped a little foot, then stood in front of Teodora’s desk, her arms crossed, a fierce glare on her face.

  Teodora didn’t bother to hide her amusement. At least this one had spirit. “What you want has no bearing on the matter, my dear. I had no choice about marrying your father either. Believe me, I was less than thrilled, and that never changed. Those of lower station might marry for sentiment, but we must think of our family’s power. Which will be considerable once you are queen of Galladium and your sister is empress.”

  “I’ll be a queen?” Zofya sat back down. It seemed that hadn’t occurred to her.

  “Yes, of a large, wealthy, powerful country. Everything I know about Gauvain indicates he can be easily influenced, if you know what you’re doing. And by the time you meet him in person, you will.”

  “So, all I have to do is marry this Gauvain fellow and I can rule Galladium?” There was a noticeable spark in Zofya’s dark eyes.

  “More or less. Much will depend on you; how well you get on with him, as well as your political abilities. But we will step up your education in the next few years and I’m sure you will learn everything you need. How is your Galladian?” All of Teodora’s children learned at least six of the languages spoken on the continent, and more if required.

  “It’s all right. My Moraltan is better.”

  “Well, forget about Moraltan for now. Spend extra time on Galladian.” Teodora paused and looked at Zofya, who looked straight back. Now she was glad it wasn’t Elektra doing this. She’d no doubt be whining and sniveling. “I will also speak with Livilla and have you transferred to the temple school at once.”

  Zofya bounced with glee. “I can leave the palace?”

  “Don’t be so happy yet. It’s just one prison to another. But if you do well in school, Livilla will give you greater responsibility and privileges. Be ready to go tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Your Highness.”

  “Say thank you. You will be a queen with a pliable husband. You are a fortunate girl.”

  “Thank you mother.” To Teodora’s surprise, Zofya ran to her, threw her arms around her neck and kissed her rather sloppily on the cheek. “Might I write to the king? Since we are to be married?”

  “What a charming idea. Natalya Maxima is still here and can take it along with her. I would like for you to meet her since she will be a great help to you once you reach Allaux.”

  “Goodness, I’m excited.” Zofya put her hands to her cheeks that were glowing pink in a rather becoming way. It looked well with her black hair. With a few years of proper training, perhaps she could distract King Gauvain from Natalya after all.

  Arryk

  “We should move out now,” Prince Bronson said upon entering the room.

  “What? Where? Have a seat.” Arryk waved at a chair. His head ached and his eyes blurred from looking at papers. The quartermaster had given him forms to sign and he started out feeling he should understand what he was signing. But after a good quarter hour of trying to decipher the crabbed numbers in the tiny lines, it seemed hopeless. Arryk had to trust the man knew what he was doing, which was likely, and honest, which was unlikely. He sighed and pushed the papers away, then waved for a drink. Once he and Prince Falk each had theirs he said, “All right, start again. What do you want?”

  “I think we should attack Kersenstadt right now.” Arryk had shared Gwynneth’s information with his staff in hopes of getting ideas on how to take the city.

  “I’d love to, but I doubt it’s possible. Mattila has left the place well-defended.”

  “We have more than enough troops to take it.”

  “I need artillery for a frontal assault. Specifically, I need Hohenwart’s artillery and her sappers. She’s an expert in siege-craft, as you know.” For the thousandth time, he wished Falk and Hohenwart hadn’t fallen out, or that Hohenwart had come here instead. There was an excellent chance she’d be better company.

  “Pfft. We don’t need that girl. She’s got a reputation because of her looks, that’s all.”

  Arryk chuckled. “I doubt it was her looks that brought her victory at Redden.”

  “Oh, she had plenty of help, but she gets all the credit from men trying to get into her bed.”

  “I doubt that’s all it is. And I don’t care; I need her guns and her mines. I have another idea for getting into Kersenstadt but it involves Edric Maximus.”

  Bronson frowned. “He’s not here right now.”

  “I’ve sent for him and I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

  “It might be weeks before he comes.”

  “It doesn’t matter. The Duchess Karsten believes that once Edric Maximus is inside the city, it can be ours in only a matter of days.”

  “That makes no sense at all.” Bronson looked suspicious.

  “It makes plenty of sense. So far, every city in Kronland has become friendly toward us when Edric starts preaching. If we can get him into Kersenstadt, it’s likely to go the same way.”

  “Kersenstadt is firmly in the imperial camp.”

  “The city government is.” Arryk had already hashed this out with Larisa several times. “But if the populace can be swayed, they will overthrow the government. We’ve seen it before.”

  “I don’t like that.” Bronson sniffed. “Sneaky. Where ‘s the glory in it?”

  “I don’t care about glory.” To his surprise, Arryk realized that was true. He wondered when it had happened. Maybe because he finally understood that nothing but winning mattered and how you did it mattered even less. “I care about results. Whatever gets me Kersenstadt the fastest is all I want.”

  “Let me get it for you,” Bronson said eagerly. “I’m rotting away here, with nothing to do all winter. Let me try.”

  “No, you must wait along with the rest of us. Once Edric arrives, I can ensure you become part of the force to take the city. There might still be fighting once inside.”

  “That’s well enough. But I don’t see the point of delay. Every day we wait are days of those wonderful supplies being used by the enemy.”

  “I doubt they’ll use much. Mattila will want them in the spring. We have time.”

  “I don’t agree.” Prince Bronson was annoyingly stubborn. Arryk found that true of most Kronlanders and it made them very hard to deal with.

  Arryk shrugged. “I understand. But my order remains: we wait for Edric Maximus. Once he’s here, you’ll be part of the attack, understood?”

  Bronson pulled a face, but nodded in what Arryk hoped was agreement.

  Braeden

  Now Braeden remembered why marriage had never appealed to him before. The good parts of it were very good. But now he felt awful. He kept telling himself that keeping the girls safe in the city was the right decision. Conditions were terrible out here in midwinter, and they had to range far every day to find forage for their horses. But living in his tent without them left him with a dull ache.

  Reno rode up next to him. “That’s the worst part of having a family,” he said. “When you have to leave them
behind.”

  “I was just thinking that,” Braeden said. “I understand they’re safer there, but I worry more, for some reason.”

  “You did the right thing. It will be easier once the children get older. You can take them along all the time.”

  “True.” The thought made Braeden brighten. He pictured Iryna riding on Kazmir in front of him, and soon after that, a little boy. They’d of course get their own ponies as soon as they were big enough. He felt better already.

  He pulled ahead to find Prince Novitny. “Where do we rendezvous with Mattila?”

  “Have to find her first, though I doubt she’ll want us around. We use too much fodder. We’ll go see her, but I reckon she’ll order us into Lantura for the rest of the winter. I’d love to take the fight to Faris while he’s still regrouping in Terragand, but she won’t send us that far afield.”

  “I wish she would. Could use some action right now.”

  “Me too. But first let’s find the old girl. I’ve sent scouts ahead to locate her.”

  Mattila had marched out of Kersenstadt a week ahead of the Sanova Hussars. Her plan was to locate Arryk Roussay while the hussars made sure the city and its environs were secure. That didn’t take much, since she’d left it well-fortified. And Braeden welcomed the extra time with his family.

  To Braeden’s surprise, Novitny called him to his command tent that evening. “The scouts didn’t find Mattila, but they found hostiles ahead.”

  “Who?” Reno wondered.

  “Kronlanders of some sort, though it’s hard to say who. It might be Hohenwart though I didn’t expect to see her down here before spring. Mattila was hoping to cut her off before she got here. Anyway, this lot is headed straight for Kersenstadt. No doubt word has gotten out about what Mattila has there and someone reckons they’ll get their hands on it.”