The horsemen were close now and Anton saw her at their head, her awful eyes glowing, her mouth stretched wide in a yell. He froze, recalling the cold ground of the forest and crying in his mother’s arms. Then he forced himself to remember he wasn’t that person anymore. He was a man now and wouldn’t let his friends down.
Braeden pulled the count down from Cid and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Follow me,” Lora said, running up the ship’s gangplank. Karil went after her, followed by Braeden carrying the count.
Anton jumped onto Cid’s back, and nearly slid out of the saddle, it was so wet with the count’s blood. Tomescu and her band had reached the end of the dock and were galloping onto it. Anton drew a pistol, then made Cid stop, blocking the gangplank.
For the first time, he got a good look at Tomescu. She slowed down as she approached Anton and her yellow eyes narrowed to slits.
“I’m going to kill you,” he said, raising his pistol.
“You?” She threw back her head and laughed, so he saw her sharp fangs. “I’ve always liked killing babies, and I’ll enjoy killing you especially, little boy.”
Anton clenched his jaw, thinking of Anyezka, the little sister Tomescu had murdered so long ago. He hoped he’d allowed the others enough time, and put the spurs to Cid. He went straight for Tomescu, forcing her away from the ship and cutting her off from the rest of her troops.
“Onto the ship,” she shrieked. “Kill them all.” And she pulled out a very long, bloody blade. Anton heard horses thundering up the gangplank behind him but kept his eyes on Tomescu and that blade of hers. She spurred her exhausted pony toward Anton while he raised his pistol. Right before he fired, she laughed, and he aimed straight at that horrible mouth.
There was a loud thump on the wood as Tomescu fell onto the dock. Her pony danced away. Anton had hit her, though he wanted to be sure she was dead. He reached for his other pistol when he heard shrieking coming from the little boat pulling away from the ship.
“No, Anton, no!” Lora screamed. “Go, go, hurry!”
Now Anton remembered that he needed to get away from the ship. Cid thundered along the dock, but wasn’t quite far enough away when it blew. Lora had lit the fuse exactly when she was supposed to and Anton had lost track of time.
Burning timbers rained down on them and Cid screamed as one landed on his back. Anton leaned back and flipped it off with his hand while holding onto the reins with the other. The whole dock was on fire, including the spot where Tomescu had fallen. He couldn’t see a body and hoped she was dead. He knew the stories said she couldn’t be killed, but hopefully those were fairy tales meant to frighten her enemies and not really true.
Their ship was out of sight, behind a few larger ones and Anton reached it before the boat did. He led Cid up the gangplank and into the hold, then came back out.
“Why did you do that?” Braeden asked, the last to come over the side of the ship after handing the bloody and unconscious count up first. “How did you do that?”
“Because of your message,” Anton said. “You said we might have been betrayed and to expect pursuit. If someone was hot on our tail, I didn’t think we could all get on the ship and get away. Best to let them think they got us and kill some of them while we were at it. I found one of Mattila’s old engineers drunk in a tavern and he was happy to show me how to rig it in exchange for a few barrels of ale. We had to find an old ship to blow up, so I’ve spent all of the count’s money. I hope you have enough to get us to Galladium.”
Braeden shook his head and said nothing, though he looked angry.
“I helped,” Lora said. She pulled Anton close and hugged him tight while he blushed. “I thought you weren’t going to make it. You were supposed to distract Tomescu, not go head to head with her.”
“You’re crazy, both of you,” Braeden said. “Getting a drunk engineer to help you blow up a ship and taking on Tomescu like that. Completely insane.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Anton grinned, partly because Lora still had an arm around him and partly because he could tell Braeden wasn’t really angry with him, just trying to hide how worried he’d been.
“Seems so,” Braeden said, then looked at Anton a long time while shaking his head some more. “We’d best see how the count is faring.”
“Will he live?” Anton asked, looking down at the mess the count left on the deck. The ship’s doctor was at work on him, his hands bloody.
“He might.” The man looked up. “Took a bullet in the eye, but it glanced off his skull. Could be he got lucky. We won’t know until he wakes up. If he wakes up.”
Teodora
Teodora refused to believe that Daciana was gone. She had gotten out of worse scrapes, and Teodora half-believed the rumors that said she couldn’t be killed. In one day, she’d lost the two people she cared about most. Demario had been lost to her for months, but seeing him dead made it real. There would be no turning back, no reconciliation.
And now she had to deal with another viper she’d nursed in her bosom. That Brytta Prosnytz had engineered Kendryk’s escape made her sick with anger. The first interrogation had only yielded up half the plot. And perhaps that had been the plan all along—keep Teodora distracted with her treacherous lover while others rescued Prince Kendryk.
Brytta was in the Arnfels dungeon, but Teodora wanted to be present at her interrogation. This time they wouldn’t have to worry about visible damage, so they would do whatever was necessary to wring the truth from her.
Livilla accompanied her to the Arnfels in her carriage. “I don’t see why it was so important to free Kendryk at this point,” she said.
“It’s important because of Lennart.” Teodora sighed. “I might have controlled him by threatening to kill Kendryk if he moved on us. Now that Kendryk is gone and Sanova is neutralized, nothing stands in his way.”
“Mattila does, much as you hate to hear it,” Livilla said softly, as if she knew how Teodora would react.
“Not well enough. She’s terrorizing Norovaea and won’t respond to my messages to pull back. What if Lennart invades before she returns?”
“You must make an immediate settlement with Arryk Roussay. Go over her head.”
“Should I do it myself?”
“If you like. Or you can send a representative like Solteszy or me. Once we have an agreement with him, her hands are tied. If she doesn’t leave Norovaea then, she’ll be considered a rebel by everyone. I’m certain she doesn’t want to go that far.”
“I’m not sure it’s safe for me to leave Atlona.” The words were out before Teodora could stop herself. When had she become so afraid?
“Then I will go. I’m sure I can come to an agreement with Arryk. I don’t see any reason he can’t continue to rule in Norovaea as long as he reimburses your expenses and agrees not to return to Kronland. It will help us if he can’t help Lennart.”
“Very true. And I don’t want Mattila getting her hands on even more money.”
“I also need to attend to some of the big Kronland temples, but will do that on my way back.”
“I’m so grateful for you,” Teodora said, a bit worried she might cry. “I feel so alone in the world.”
“We are alone, all of us. We are fortunate to find one or two people in our lifetimes who truly care. Only the gods can give true comfort.”
That did nothing to help Teodora feel better.
Inside the Arnfels, the captain led them to the dungeon and had them wait in the interrogation chamber while they brought Brytta.
He returned a few minutes later, shamefaced. “I’m afraid there’s a problem, Your Highness.”
“Surely she hasn’t escaped too?” At this point, Teodora was willing to believe anything. In her nightmares, Braeden Terris haunted the Arnfels corridors, bloody knife in hand.
“Not in a manner of speaking. But I’m afraid Baroness Prosnytz is dead.”
“Dead? Who killed her?”
“By her own ha
nd.”
“How? Wasn’t she searched?”
“Of course she was. But it seems she hid a small blade in her hair. It was enough.”
Teodora was speechless. Now she would never be certain who had been behind this.
“We can still make a good guess,” Livilla said as they walked back out.
“Can we?”
“Consider this: who has been steadfastly lobbying for Kendryk’s release? And didn’t you find it odd that Natalya gave in so easily when you refused to let him go?”
“I hate the idea, but you might be right.” It was unbearable. Not only had Natalya been a friend, Teodora did not want Galladium as an enemy.
“Call off Zofya’s engagement.” Livilla urged. “It’s worse punishment for them than it is for you.”
“What about Dallmaring? We’ve already started the handover.”
“Then stop it. Stop all of it and let Natalya know her interference in imperial matters won’t be tolerated.”
Teodora wrote the letter, trying to keep from sounding too angry. She sent orders to bring Dallmaring back into the imperial fold, by force if necessary, then sent for her daughter.
Judging by the look in Zofya’s eyes, she’d already heard the news. “But mother,” she said, on the verge of angry tears. “I’m in love with him. He’s going to be my husband.”
Teodora smiled. She doubted she’d been so naive at that age. “How can you possibly be in love with a man you’ve never met? And once you’ve met him, well, he’s Gauvain Brevard. It wouldn’t last long.”
“You don’t understand.” Zofya stamped her foot and Teodora had to hide her admiration. Tiny, dark-haired, and spirited, Zofya seemed better than Elektra in every way. Perhaps Teodora could find a way to make her the imperial heir instead. But first she had to get her over her tantrum.
“Stop whining. These things happen all the time. It would have been a political marriage in any case.”
“But he writes me the loveliest letters, with poetry,” Zofya protested. “And we exchanged locks of hair.”
Teodora failed to hide a laugh. “What you don’t know is that he has a child with Natalya Maxima.”
That brought the girl up short. “That’s a lie.”
“No, my dear. I’m afraid he’s the one who’s been lying to you.”
Zofya burst into tears.
Teodora almost felt bad, but knew it was for the best. This was a good chance to teach her daughter that no matter who she ended up marrying, she must never give her heart to anyone.
Kendryk
As they neared the Galladian port of Sarcy, Kendryk found he was nervous. He didn’t expect his family to be there, though he hoped they would be, since it was only two days’ journey from Allaux. A message from Natalya had reached him during a stop in a Maladene port, letting him know they were all safe and staying with her. He felt a bit guilty, looking forward to a happy reunion when Braeden would have none.
It looked like Arian Orland would live and Kendryk was glad. He found it very difficult to harbor anger any longer after the part he’d played in Kendryk’s rescue. Nearly all of the troops he’d taken to Atlona were dead or captured and Arian had lost his left eye. Kendryk sensed it was a blow to his vanity, but perhaps it would do him good in the long run.
As they neared Sarcy, Kendryk got ready. He shaved and considered cutting his hair, which had grown rather long, but left it for the time being. It had a few streaks of gray, but shorter hair wouldn’t hide those. Karil helped him dress in his best clothes. They’d made a stop in Maladena and had been able to buy a few things.
As they came into dock, there was some fanfare. Quite a large crowd had gathered, but Kendryk couldn’t pick out any individuals from the ship. He pushed down his impatience and waited to disembark in some state.
A man came aboard saying he was the king’s representative. “I’m afraid his majesty couldn’t appear personally, though he’ll tell you all about it later. But your family is waiting for you.”
Kendryk couldn’t keep the joy from showing on his face. He wondered if any of the children would remember him, or if he would recognize them. They would all have to become reacquainted and he thanked the gods for giving him the opportunity to do so.
The others had all disembarked and Kendryk slowly walked down the gangplank. If he limped, it was mostly because he still felt like he was at sea.
He saw Gwynneth first, standing on the dock. The wind blew her golden hair and her cheeks were rosy from the chill. She was smiling. Next to her stood a serious-looking girl of ten or so and a bright-eyed blond boy. Another boy stood next to him and a nurse held a little dark-haired girl. Kendryk stopped before he came closer, just to look at all of them.
“Papa.” Suddenly the older girl broke away and ran toward him.
Kendryk folded Maryna into his arms, unable to speak, and then Devyn was clinging to him. When he looked up, Gwynneth stood across from him.
“Oh my darling,” she said, looking into his eyes and stroking his hair. “I was afraid I’d never see you again.”
“So was I,” Kendryk said, pulling her close. “But you did it. Arian told me everything.”
“We’ll talk about that later,” Gwynneth said, pulling back a little. “I’m sure you remember Andres.” She pushed a pale little boy in his direction and Kendryk greeted him politely, since it was obvious he didn’t remember him. “And this one you don’t know at all.” The nurse had put the little girl down and Gwynneth pulled her forward. “This is Stella, and she was born nine months after the battle.”
“Hello, Stella.” Kendryk went down on one knee.
“Hello, Papa,” Stella said, placing a chubby hand in his. She didn’t seem the least bit shy. “Will you play with me?”
“Oh, yes,” Kendryk said. “Very soon.”
Then they were bundled into a carriage and taken from the docks. Devyn crawled onto Kendryk’s lap while Maryna snuggled against his side and everyone talked at once. The carriage disgorged them at a house in the town, borrowed for the occasion. They would leave for Allaux the next day.
“I’d like to bring the others along,” Kendryk said, once they’d settled into the house’s comfortable parlor. “At least until we know what’s next. Arian will need time to recover in any case.”
“Natalya has asked that we, and everyone involved in the rescue, be the king’s guests for as long as we need to. Of course Count Orland will receive the best care we can give him,” Gwynneth said.
For some reason, talking about Arian with her didn’t bother Kendryk at all. He was certain now that she didn’t care about him. The way she looked at Kendryk made it clear there was no one else for her. Just like there was no one else for him. Whatever came next, he hoped he had the time to just enjoy her and enjoy their children.
They would have to worry about getting Terragand back, but that could wait for another day. From what Gwynneth had told him, it sounded like Lennart would soon invade. No matter what kind of army Teodora had, it wouldn’t be able to stand against him. Kendryk was sure of it. He hoped to meet Lennart soon and make plans. But for now he looked forward to seeing Gauvain again, talking religion with Natalya and playing at war with Devyn and Stella, already fighting with toy swords in the corridor.
Arryk
In the end, a negotiator came to Arryk, though it wasn’t anyone he’d expected. They met at the secluded home of a friendly nobleman, deep in the forest. Arryk still wore the rough wool and fur of the peasants, but he didn’t care. Neither it seemed, did his visitor.
“Aren’t you a treat for the eye?” An older woman rose as he entered the room.
“If you say so.” Arryk grinned, surprised at how easily a flirtatious tone still came to him when he needed it. “And you are?”
“Livilla Maxima.”
He’d guessed as much based on the Maxima’s robes she wore, but he wanted to be sure. “And the young lady?” He smiled at a nervous, awkward girl of sixteen or so, standing behind Livilla.
“The Archduchess Elektra.” Livilla pulled the girl forward, who dropped a quick, clumsy curtsy. “Empress Teodora’s eldest daughter.”
Arryk gestured toward some chairs, then took a seat. Perhaps his manners had suffered after all. Once they were all seated he asked, “Are you here on behalf of Brynhild Mattila?”
“No, we are not.” Livilla shook her head. “I am here to represent the empress and no one else.”
“Interesting,” Arryk said, though he didn’t understand the significance of that.
“Indeed,” Livilla said. “It may come as no surprise to you that the empress and General Mattila are not on the friendliest terms.”
Arryk almost said he didn’t think anyone could be on friendly terms with a monster like the empress. Then he remembered he was speaking to her confidant and her daughter, so he bit his tongue just in time. “Hm,” he finally managed.
Livilla went on. “These negotiations are occurring without Mattila’s knowledge, although by now I’m sure she has noticed the archduchess’s absence from Arenberg.”
“Will Mattila abide by any agreement we reach?” That worried Arryk.
“Oh yes,” Livilla said. “I know she’d prefer to make her own agreement, but she is the empress’s employee and must do as she’s told.”
Arryk shrugged. That was not his problem. He wondered what Livilla wanted, but didn’t want to seem too eager. He hoped it looked like he was content to live the peasant life as long as he needed to.
“So, what do I need to agree to to get your lot to leave my country?” There was no point in putting off the discussion in favor of talking Olvisyan politics.
Livilla looked amused. “Not much, fortunately for you. You will sign an agreement promising to remain neutral in any affairs concerning the empire. That includes intervention in Kronland, or assisting any allies of the rebels.”
“I can do that. I have no interest in getting involved there again.”
The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3 Page 98