The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  She sat at a table set up in the shade of a lone tree with her generals and Livilla, who had returned from her visit to Mattila’s army. No relief would come from that quarter. Mattila was determined to engage Arryk soon, though she was having trouble pinning him down. Teodora wished for a stronger force, but she didn’t want Mattila coming here and taking over. Kersenstadt would fall before that, and Teodora would take the credit.

  “We must attack again soon,” Teodora said. “As dreadful as things are for us, they must be far worse in the city.”

  “We can try.” Barela shrugged. “We still see many Norovaean soldiers on the walls. Likely they are getting what little food is left and will be able to hold out a bit longer. They are very determined.”

  “Let’s wait a few days,” Livilla said. “I’m waiting for someone who can provide more information.”

  “What do you mean?” Teodora demanded. She had given the order that all sources of information be made known to her.

  “I mean there are people loyal to us inside the city.”

  “Are you sure? How will they reach you?”

  “There is a way. Few inside the city know of it and if my source still lives, he will use it. Long ago, we agreed that he would make contact on the first full moon after midsummer night. That will be two nights from now.”

  Teodora wanted to demand why she hadn’t been told. She might have averted a sleepless night or two. But she didn’t want to appear petulant in front of everyone. And she was just the slightest bit frightened of Livilla. She had never given her reason, but Teodora had seen what she was capable of and didn’t want to test her.

  Livilla took a small escort to meet her source. “I will bring him to you,” she said. “A large party might draw the attention of the city watch.”

  She returned an hour later with a bedraggled priest in tow. Teodora wondered if it was possible to swim across the river, though getting to it from the city wall must have been quite a feat.”This is Father Galen,” Livilla said. “He is one of the original members of the League of Aeternos, sent to recruit in Kersenstadt.”

  “Did you succeed?” Teodora asked, though the man was still on his knees before her.

  “Beyond our wildest hope, Your Highness. At least thirty League members still live inside the city.”

  “How did you survive?”

  Father Galen frowned. “We pretended to embrace the Quadrene heresy, even preached it when necessary.”

  “You will be absolved, all of you, when this is over,” Livilla said.

  “Thank you, Maxima. We have continued the proper worship in secret and our resolve remains strong. We are prepared to do whatever is needed to see the true faith prevail. The gods are already punishing the heretics. Some are starving while plague spreads unchecked. Hundreds die every day.”

  “Good.” Things were finally going Teodora’s way. “Can you open the gate?”

  Father Galen blanched. “Perhaps. Though it will be difficult. The gate remains heavily guarded with the most fanatical of the Norovaeans. There may not be enough of us.”

  “Find a way. We cannot take the city unless the gate is open. Unless there is another way. Such as the way you came out.”

  “No, that would be even more difficult. I took a great risk in leaving the way I did and can only hope I will be able to return unnoticed.” He looked miserable for a moment, then his eyes cleared. “We will open the gate Your Highness, even if it costs us our lives.”

  “Good. You will be rewarded richly if you succeed, in this life or the next.”

  “We will say a thousand prayers for all who are lost, and erect a golden altar to Vica in their honor,” Livilla added. That seemed to satisfy the priest.

  “How soon can you do this?” There was no point in delay.

  “Soon. We should wait for the new moon. We will have a better chance of success under cover of darkness.”

  “Very well. On the night of the new moon, open the gate right after dark. We will be ready.” Teodora stood. “You may return, Father Galen. Oh, and someone get the man something to eat. I want him to make it until the new moon.” He rather looked like he might not.

  Janna

  Janna tried not to notice the nightmare around her. It was hot, but she kept the house shut up tight, hoping that if the front door never opened, the horror outside might not get in. Of the four Norovaean officers, only Major Ellert remained. A few others had moved in, probably from less comfortable accommodations.

  “Likely from plague-ridden houses,” Birgid whispered.

  Janna pretended not to hear. She refused to think about it. To think about it made it real and it couldn’t be real. Not after everything she had been through. She read all the pamphlets Birgid brought her. By now she’d read through the Holy Scrolls twice and was starting on a third time. She prayed five times a day, once to each member of the Holy Family separately, then prayed to all of them together. At first she found it difficult without the icons, but the Scrolls were clear that those weren’t needed.

  Her doubts weren’t gone, but she pushed them into the farthest corners of her mind. They wouldn’t serve her here. Doubt was the killer. Now that she had two little ones counting on her she must be strong. She had failed her stepchildren; she would not fail these. If the Faith offered salvation, she would take it, and believe to the best of her ability.

  Mother Ilsa had become a frequent visitor since little Braeden’s birth. Doctor Marsel had asked her to come bless the baby, and she stayed for hours after, talking to Janna. After that, she came often. Once plague broke out, there were far fewer visitors to the temple, so Ilsa reduced the number of services by half. Instead, she visited her congregation when she could, and passed notes and prayers through windows at those houses she wasn’t allowed to enter.

  Janna liked to see her. Everyone else, including the Norovaean officers looked haunted and fearful, but Ilsa stood erect and her eyes sparkled with life even as her cheeks had sunken. It was as though she had been born for this type of crisis.

  “Ah, seeing these two does my heart good.” Ilsa ruffled Iryna’s head and took baby Braeden from Janna, kissing him on the cheek. “They seem to be well, thank the Mother for that.”

  “They are,” Janna said. “We finally slaughtered the donkey. The major felt we should do it before he got any skinnier. Be sure to get meat from Hilda before you go.” There was still a little food in the cellar and Major Ellert imposed strict rations on everyone so it might last a bit longer.

  “Thank you. Fresh meat will be welcome, even if it’s from the poor old donkey. Be glad you have no dogs or cats. Those have already reached a fair number of tables.”

  Janna shuddered. “I don’t think I could bear it.” She’d always had pet cats as a girl, and kept a mouser in her Kaleva kitchen.

  “Oh, that reminds me.” Ilsa dug in the pockets of her robes. “I brought a little something for our tea. I officiated at a wedding yesterday, and they served ginger cake. It’s not much, but we can stretch it to the four of us.” Birgid and Iryna usually joined them for tea. Even after food ran out, it seemed they would have tea. One big bale from the black market warehouse had been tea of various kinds.

  “Someone got married? Now?” It seemed ridiculous under the circumstances.

  Ilsa shrugged. “It was a Norovaean soldier and the daughter of the house. He reckoned he’d get away with it, but she started to show and her parents kicked up a fuss. Went straight to the duchess and she ordered him to marry the girl.”

  “Oh dear. Not the happiest situation then.”

  “Maybe not, but it was a good excuse for a little neighborhood celebration. We drank up the last of the wine and forgot about reality for a few hours.”

  “I would love to do that.”

  “Do you have wine?” Ilsa’s eyes twinkled.

  Janna had to smile. “The Norovaeans drank it all long ago. They finished it off after that second attack. I worry they won’t hold out much longer.”

  “T
hey may not. But the whole city prays they will stay strong until King Arryk arrives.”

  “I’m not sure I want that.” Janna had already explained about Braeden.

  “Do not be troubled.” Ilsa took Janna’s hands in hers. “You’ve told me yourself how your husband has been a soldier for twenty-five years and has never had more than minor wounds. Ercos will keep him this time as well, no matter how fierce the battle.”

  “I still can’t see how this will work out.” Janna felt bad that her faith flagged, but it seemed weak even on the best days.

  “It’s not up to us to know the ways of the gods. They take care of us and make plans we cannot foresee.” Mother Ilsa seemed to understand Janna’s need for comfort. “Remember that bit of the Scrolls I read to you the other day, about the holy martyrs who died for their faith? The Mother took all fear and pain from them during their darkest hours. They suffered the most dreadful wounds with smiles on their faces, praising the Holy Family all the while. It will be the same for us, should the worst happen.”

  “How do you suppose it is for small children, those too little to understand about the gods? Surely they wouldn’t be allowed to suffer just because they were too young to pray properly?” Janna thought of Anyezka dying in the burning farmhouse.

  Ilsa leaned forward, clearly eager to make Janna feel better. “The little ones are free of sin. Any faults they have are because of their parents. The gods will take children to them before they can be harmed.”

  “I wish that were true.” Janna leaned back against the chair’s cushions, tears leaking from her eyes. “There isn’t much that I’m afraid of anymore, but I’m terrified for Iryna and the baby.”

  “There’s no need. None at all.” Ilsa patted Janna’s hand. “And if you just believe and pray to each of the Holy Family in turn, as is proper, there’s nothing anyone out there can do to hurt you.”

  The days dragged on, hot and still. There hadn’t been an attack on the walls in over a month. Janna hoped they weren’t just biding their time. She only heard rumors about the army besieging the city. It was said they suffered nearly as much as those inside since the plague had come to them too. Food was short for them as well, and everyone hoped that if they ran out altogether, they would leave.

  In Janna’s house, everyone was hungry all the time. All that remained in her cellar were a few sacks of weevily flour and the massive bale of tea. They ate just enough bread to stay alive and Janna sometimes went out with Hilda to look for greens. Hilda knew which herbs were edible, so they would range out into the neighborhood, looking for abandoned gardens and weeds growing in every possible corner.

  If a house bore the black mark of the plague on its front door, it was safe to say the garden would be deserted. Even in the unlikely event that anyone lived inside the house, they could not come out for fifty days after the last case died or recovered.

  Janna wondered how Doctor Marsel was faring. After little Braeden’s birth he had paid a rather formal call, a leave-taking of sorts. “I’m going to minister to those in the plague-houses,” he said, his voice calm, his eyes resigned. “I won’t be back until it’s over, since I can’t risk exposing anyone in a safe house.”

  “But you’ll die.” Janna was aghast. “You don’t need to do this.”

  “Oh, but I do. That I haven’t has long weighed on me. The only thing that’s kept me from it is that I promised your husband and Doctor Toure I would see your child born and you safe. I’ve done that and now I must go to those who need me more. My nurse will look in on you and can handle any emergency.”

  “I still wish you wouldn’t,” Janna said. “Surely there are others?”

  “There are no others.” Doctor Marsel shook his head. “The few doctors who survive cannot help all of the new cases. I spoke with Mother Ilsa and she agreed I will be doing the will of the gods in this work.”

  There was nothing Janna could say to dissuade him. She hoped he was still alive and that when this was over, she’d see him again.

  Teodora

  Teodora could hardly sleep for excitement in the nights leading up to the new moon. The weather continued hot and dry, though she didn’t care. It could rain frogs and cattle and she would take the city. In spite of the heat, she had her light armor on by late afternoon.

  When Demario saw her he frowned. “You should enter the city of course, but only once it is secure.”

  “No.” Teodora folded her arms. “I want to be first through the gates.”

  Demario sighed. “Very well. I will stay by your side.”

  She smiled. “I would like that.”

  Thanks to Father Galen’s plan, she’d had time to call in all the troops from the surrounding area. No doubt their hosts were glad to be rid of them and the soldiers themselves seemed eager for action. Teodora had ordered them brought in under cover of darkness so the defenders wouldn’t notice any changes in the camp. Unsure of the number of Norovaeans inside the city, she was leaving nothing to chance.

  All of her forces had assembled near her camp. They stayed there until the sun went down, then made their way toward the main gate in silent, dark columns. She sent more troops to take the other, smaller gates which would be opened from the inside by those who got through the main one.

  Teodora was very clear. “I want Larisa Karsten taken alive.” She saw Demario’s satisfied expression and said, “So I can kill her myself, slowly.” Demario shook his head, and she smirked. “Give no quarter to any Norovaean of rank.”

  “No hostages then?” Ensden asked. Ransom of noble hostages was one of the best ways for plundering soldiers to raise cash.

  “No Norovaean hostages. If you find rich civilians, help yourselves. I want to see no live Norovaeans by morning, except for Larisa Karsten. Is that clear?”

  Teodora crept forward at the head of the first column, a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other. Her heart pounded so loudly under her breastplate she was almost surprised it didn’t clank. She hoped Livilla’s people could pull this off. Everything depended on them.

  Demario held a small timepiece. She didn’t know how he could read it in the dark. He turned his back to the city and someone struck a tinder. “Ten o’clock five minutes ago,” he whispered.

  Why was nothing happening? Teodora stood motionless, willing the gate to open. Suddenly, torchlight flickered from the wall and she heard shouting. Next came gunfire and screaming that went on for an unbearable eternity.

  “Come one, come on,” Teodora muttered under her breath and slowly moved forward. Her hand gripped the pistol so tightly her muscles cramped. She willed herself to relax. She counted backwards from one hundred and licked her dry lips. It seemed no one around her was breathing either. The shouting and screaming inside didn’t let up, but at last the gate swung open.

  “Go!” Teodora shouted and ran for it.

  By the time she reached the gate, Father Galen and all of his people were dead. Norovaeans came from all directions and several tried swinging the gate shut again. Teodora and Demario fired their pistols at the same time and two soldiers went down. She grinned at him. This was how it was supposed to be. Perhaps from now on she would insist on fighting with him every time.

  The Norovaeans had been taken by surprise, so the only opposition at the gate came from those who had been on duty. Others would come soon enough. Meanwhile, imperial troops surged around Teodora and flowed into the side streets. “Find Larisa Karsten,” she screamed, hacking at an officer in front of her. He was blond and tall, probably just like Arryk, but she ran him right through the middle and he fell like any other man.

  She spotted a flash of golden braid and hoped for a moment it was Karsten, but it turned out to be just another soldier. Teodora hoped Karsten wasn’t one of those silly leaders who liked to dress plainer than her officers. It would make her hard to find; all of these foreigners looked so alike.

  Even though the Norovaeans were out in force by now, there was no question they were severely outnumbered. Who k
new how many had succumbed to plague and starvation?

  Teodora cut down everyone in her path. No one could stand against her. Suddenly, she stood in a square far inside the city, and there was no more enemy. She was breathing hard, sweat running down her face and prickling her scalp. She yanked off her helmet, took a deep breath and looked around for Demario.

  He was right behind, and took her arm. “You must take cover. They might regroup. And for Vica’s sake, put your helmet back on.”

  She grinned at him. “It’s marvelous, isn’t it?” She left her helmet off. “We’re winning, aren’t we?”

  “Of course we are. The Norovaeans are in terrible shape. I don’t know if you paid attention, but those we faced were nearly skeletons and many looked sick. Pray you don’t get the plague.”

  “I can’t. I won’t.” She felt invincible. She was invincible. “I want to kill more people. Where are they?”

  “Running away, I’m afraid. It will turn into a sack soon, I’m sure.”

  “Good. Let this lot see what happens when they defy me.”

  “We shouldn’t let it get out of control. I’m sure you don’t want the city too badly damaged.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” There was a commotion coming closer, but they were her troops.

  An officer flung a body at her feet. “Larisa Karsten, as requested, Your Highness.”

  Teodora poked at the body with her foot. “She’s not dead, is she?”

  “I don’t think so. Just knocked about the head a bit.”

  There was a groan and Karsten staggered to her feet. Teodora had heard the duchess was very beautiful, but she didn’t look it now. Her face was a dirty, bruised mess. Blood ran from her lip and nose and her hair stuck out in all directions, like straw. She was only half-dressed. They’d probably caught her getting out of bed.