The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  “Kendryk.” Gwynneth leaned back.

  Natalya nodded.

  “He hates the idea.”

  “I know.” Natalya looked sympathetic but no less resolute. “It’s a terrible burden, but one he must shoulder. It will come to him naturally once he’s back in Terragand. Everyone there still sees him as their leader.”

  “But what can he do there? If anything, he’s in a much weaker position than when he first started.”

  Natalya’s eyes settled into a faraway gaze. “Not necessarily. He has Lennart behind him now, but it must be made clear to everyone—Lennart included—that a foreign king can be only a tool of the gods, and a servant to the chosen leader.”

  “Lennart hasn’t said as much.” Gwynneth chose her words carefully. “But why should he not believe he is the chosen one?”

  Natalya laughed. “Oh, I’m certain he does; why would he not? But I’m sure he is wrong.”

  “I still don’t understand how Kendryk can make him do what he wants.”

  “By getting Kronland behind him. Make it clear they fight for the Quadrene faith first, Kendryk second, and the rest of the Kronlanders after that. Lennart is only a useful ally.”

  “The faith first then.” Gwynneth hadn’t missed that.

  “Yes.” Natalya looked straight at her. “That’s the whole point of this. The outcome of this war will determine which creed prevails. But the gods don’t mean for us to win by strength of arms alone. The prophecy is plain in this. First comes faith, then comes victory.”

  “It sounds nice,” Gwynneth said. “But how can this be done?”

  “Very simply,” Natalya replied. “By eliminating all enemies of the truth while purifying our own worship.”

  Anton

  “I don’t understand what’s happening,” Anton said when he found Susanna. “Count Michalek gave the order to get ready to march to Terragand tomorrow.”

  “It’s strange,” Susanna said. He had burst into her tent, and found her packing her things. “But everyone says they’re going to join Ensden.” She put down the blanket she’d been rolling up, sat down on her cot and patted the spot next to her.

  Anton sat. “So General Mattila has finally given in to the empress?”

  Susanna shook her head. “Apparently not. Again, this is all a rumor, but I heard that Livilla Maxima herself appeared at the general’s house and relieved her of command.”

  “What?” Anton couldn’t picture anyone being able to do that.

  “Hard to believe, isn’t it? And yet, all the officers are suddenly throwing money around. Livilla must have paid them off so they’d abandon Mattila. Perhaps you’ll get paid soon.” She gave Anton an elbow to the ribs. That he’d never received so much as a copper while serving as a soldier bothered him, even though he made plenty working with Susanna.

  “So we’re leaving Mattila and going to Terragand?”

  “Yes. Maybe you’ll get to fight, as you’ve been wanting to for so long.” Her lip curled, and her eyes narrowed.

  “Could be. But—” Anton suddenly remembered Skandar, and dropped his head into his hands.

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t go. General Mattila has my horse. If I leave here I’ll never see him again.” He’d kept Skandar a secret from everyone. The fewer who knew about him and what he meant to Anton, the better.

  “Have you lost your mind? You must follow your commander. And you don’t have a horse.”

  Anton took a deep breath, looked at her puzzled face and clear hazel eyes, and decided to tell her everything, starting with saving King Arryk in battle. It was hard to tell if she believed him, but she was silent while he spoke, her eyes never leaving his face. “So you see why I can’t leave him,” he finished.

  Susanna was quiet a while longer, then said, “That’s a crazy story, especially the part about Prince Kendryk.” She breathed in, then sighed. “I believe you, but that doesn’t do you any good. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Anton clenched his fists in his lap. “There is. I can steal Skandar tonight and run away. Will you cover for me?” He looked at Susanna anxiously.

  Her eyes grew wide. “You can’t be serious. You’d not only be a deserter, you’d be a thief.”

  “He’s my horse, and no one else’s.”

  A flush spread over Susanna’s face. “I’m sorry Anton, but he isn’t. Not anymore. He belongs to the general now.”

  “She stole him from me.” Anton was already wishing he hadn’t said anything. He should have waited for darkness, and gone to find Skandar alone.

  “He was a spoil of war. How many times did you take things that didn’t belong to you during a sacking?”

  Anton opened his mouth, then closed it again. “That was different,” he said, fully aware that she was right.

  Susanna shook her head. “You know it’s not.” She took one of Anton’s hands, still balled into a fist, and tucked it between hers. “I’m so sorry, but you must give him up. I won’t let you take him. I can’t bear to think about them catching you.”

  “They won’t catch me,” Anton said. “At least not alive.”

  “Don’t say such awful things.” Tears stood in her eyes now, and she held his hand so tightly it hurt. “Please. And besides.” She looked down for a moment, before meeting his eyes again. “I can’t do without you.”

  “Yes, you can.” Anton was surprised at how rough his voice sounded. “You were fine before I got here, and you’ll be fine after I leave. You don’t need anyone.”

  “That’s not true,” she whispered. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.” She sounded convincing, but Anton was sure she was only saying that so he wouldn’t go.

  He pulled his hand away and stared at the floor. As long as he looked into her eyes, he felt himself getting soft inside, and that wouldn’t do.

  Susanna sniffled, but he refused to look at her. After a while she said, “I have an idea. You kept most of the money you made, didn’t you?”

  Anton nodded. He’d been saving up to buy out his contract, since he was earning enough money to make it a possibility before too long.

  “I’ve got quite a bit put by.” She took his hand again. “Why don’t we do this? We’ll put together everything we have, you can go to the general, and offer to buy your horse back.”

  Anton’s breath caught, since he knew how hard Susanna worked, and how much she prized her independence. “I can’t take your money,” he said. “And I doubt it will be enough.”

  “Consider it a loan,” she said. “With a horse you can be a cavalry trooper, and ought get a lot more plunder, not to mention better pay. You can pay me back when we sack a rich Terragand city.”

  “But I don’t even know what a horse like Skandar costs. I’ve only got three hundred Kroner.” That had seemed like a fabulous sum before, but it wasn’t enough.

  “That’s a good start.” Susanna’s face broke into a smile. “I have eight hundred.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Even as he said it, Anton had a feeling she was.

  “I am. And with what’s just happened, I doubt the general will say no to that amount of money.”

  “You keep it in here?” Anton looked around the tent.

  “Gods no, that would be stupid. The Moraltan quartermaster keeps a bank, and I’m sure he’ll be flush with coin today. I’ll go get it right now.” She stood and reached for her cloak.

  “You can’t go alone,” Anton said. “Someone will rob you.”

  “Then come along,” she said. “You’re my bodyguard. Let’s go get my money, and then you can get your horse.”

  Lennart

  Prince Stepan jumped as Lennart slammed his fist on the table, then said. “Really, Your Highness. There is no need to lose your temper.”

  “Yes there is.” Lennart slammed his fist down again, knocking over an inkpot, then stood up so quickly the legs of his chair screeched as they scraped against the parquet floor. He hoped they left a deep gash. “I’v
e been here for nearly a month, spending enormous amounts of money, while Count Ensden tramps all over Terragand. I need to stop him before he takes Birkenfels, and I need to do it now, but I’m not going until I have a few Kronland rulers with me. This is your fight.”

  “It’s Terragand’s fight.” Stepan’s voice sounded hollow behind him. “My cousin started this, and it’s his problem. Where is Kendryk anyway? Will he bring no troops to your aid?”

  Lennart whirled on him. “Your cousin has done plenty to help, and he’ll do more. But he and I can’t do this alone. I won’t do it alone.” He was sick of looking at Stepan’s ugly face, so he turned and stomped out of the room.

  General Lofbrok had preceded him, and stood waiting in the corridor. “Come, Your Highness,” he said. “Let’s return to your quarters. Perhaps it’s time we made other plans.”

  Lennart shot him an angry look. To make other plans at this point was tantamount to admitting defeat. How could he succeed in a mission to unite Kronland when the first prince he encountered refused to cooperate? Lennart wanted to make clear he was no foreign invader, and to do that, he needed to build a coalition of Kronland rulers.

  “I know,” Lofbrok said, his broad, plain face affable as always. “I’d love to murder the fellow in his sleep too, but that won’t do.” They settled into a brisk pace until they’d reached Lennart’s quarters. Prince Stepan had provided him with an entire wing of his palace, so there was room for Lennart’s household, his senior officers, and all of their servants and other staff. Once buzzing with activity, the area now felt like a sickly beehive, the drones turned lethargic from inactivity.

  Lennart waited until they were both seated in his study behind closed doors. “I’d gladly do away with the fellow myself, but it’s not the best way to inspire confidence around here,” he said. “I must find a way to work with these Kronlanders.”

  “Perhaps we can find a less difficult one,” Lofbrok said, pouring both of them a drink. Princess Rheda had been kind enough to place cut glass decanters of the finest Sanovan brandy in every room.

  “I’m beginning to think there aren’t any,” Lennart said, tossing the drink back and putting the glass onto a table with a bang. “I’d heard tales of their stubbornness, but I didn’t think it could be that bad. Turns out, it’s worse.”

  “What about Ummarvik?” Lofbrok took a small sip, then set his glass aside. His sobriety was one of the things that made him a good general. Or maybe it was the self-discipline that led to the sobriety. Lennart wasn’t sure, and was somewhat suspicious of an Estenorian who wasn’t also a drinker. “We’re hearing interesting rumors from Brandana,” Lofbrok went on. “If it’s true that Mattila no longer works for Teodora, we might be able to take advantage of the chaos.”

  “Is that possible?” Lennart wondered. “I don’t see how Teodora can get rid of her so easy. She’d need money, and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t got any.”

  “Unless Natalya is funding her behind your back.”

  “What?” Lennart held his glass out for another drink, and Lofbrok duly poured. “Why would she provide money to two opposing sides? How does that serve Galladium’s interest?”

  Lofbrok shrugged. “She backs the winner either way.”

  “True.” Lennart downed this glass a little more slowly. If Teodora had come into funds, he had a problem, a much bigger one than a stubborn prince. “I suppose you’re right. We have to make a move, Prince Stepan or not. But I’m not ready to admit defeat just yet.” Lennart paused and looked out the window, then turned back to Lofbrok. “Call the other officers to meet in a quarter hour, and I’ll send for Princess Rheda. I know what to do.”

  Kendryk

  They stopped for the night at an inn near the Brandana border. Captain Dorais, the head of Kendryk’s guard, thought they should find out where Mattila was before deciding on their approach to Terragand.

  “Oh, she’ll stay in Brandana for the time being,” the talkative innkeep said, once he learned that Kendryk wanted to avoid her. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard the latest.”

  “Seems not,” Kendryk said, settling onto a bench with a trencher full of stew, and a large mug of beer. He preferred dining with his guards, rather than taking a solitary meal upstairs. “Please tell me she hasn’t invaded Terragand.”

  “Oh no,” the innkeep said, bending down, so his voice was audible over the din of the busy room. He was a tall, lanky fellow, and looked oddly grasshopper-like with his elbows stuck out at an angle as he rested his hands on the table. “Not at all. No, the empress herself took Mattila’s command away from her.”

  Kendryk nearly choked on his beer. “She what?” he asked, once he’d recovered.

  The innkeep nodded, pleased he’d made such an impression. “Sent that old Maxima after her with several wagon-loads of coin. She spent the night here both times, coming and going. The Maxima might be old, but I wouldn’t tangle with her. So she went to Brandana and paid off all of Mattila’s officers, who’ve gone to fight for Ensden.”

  Kendryk frowned. “So Mattila’s army is in Terragand, even though she’s not.”

  “In a manner of speaking. It’s a slow business, getting all of those units where they’re supposed to be, since no one’s sure where that is. No doubt Ensden will get them organized before Lennart leaves Helvundala, if he ever does.”

  Once the innkeep had gone, Kendryk called over Captain Dorais. “Brandana might be safe,” he said. “But how will we get through Terragand unnoticed?”

  Dorais looked grim. “We won’t. Might be we’ll have to fight our way through.”

  “We can’t.” Kendryk’s escort numbered exactly fifty.

  “Not alone. But we know Duke Trystan is operating somewhere in western Terragand. We must find him.”

  “Yes, I believe you’re right. Once we do, we can decide how to get Edric Maximus. I won’t even worry about Lennart until that’s done.” Kendryk wondered now if he should have taken ship to Helvundala instead. “Send out messengers tonight, to ask about Duke Trystan at every inn and temple. With any luck we’ll find him before enemy troops finds us.”

  A message from the duke reached them before they crossed into Terragand. Kendryk read it, then handed it to Dorais. “He says it’s safe for the first twenty leagues over the border. Most of the imperial troops went north and east, to defend Kaltental and threaten Birkenfels.” Kendryk sighed. “We must relieve Faris before looking for Edric. I hope he’s safe now that Terragand’s swarming with hostile armies.”

  “We’ll find a way.” Dorais looked up after reading the message. “The Maximus has many friends who’ll shelter him. Let’s meet Duke Trystan first, and then we can plan.”

  They crossed the border without incident, but found conditions in Terragand appalling. “What happened here?” Kendryk asked as they rode through a town. Most of the buildings stood, but all were deserted. A few human and animal corpses lay in the open, though judging by the work the crows had done, they’d been there for several weeks.

  They passed through several more villages in similar condition before Duke Trystan’s outriders found them. As he led them to a well-hidden camp, a young cavalry officer explained. “There’s only been a little fighting here, but the armies took everything. We’ve been living off the land all winter, so we’d already picked the area clean. Then several thousand of Mattila’s lot came through two weeks ago and finished ‘em off.”

  “What happened to all the people?” Kendryk couldn’t believe the condition of his kingdom, for it was still his, no matter what Teodora said. Guilt at what he’d done rose inside him. He swallowed it down and hardened his face.

  “Gone,” the officer said. “A plague of dysentery swept through last month and killed a lot of ‘em. Took a lot of ours too. The rest ran off, I imagine.”

  “Where can they go?” Kendryk asked.

  “Who knows? There’s scarcely any safe parts of Terragand now there’s soldiers everywhere, most of them enemy. We’ve got to break through
to Birkenfels, but we haven’t figured that out yet. I reckon you and the duke can chew that one over.”

  “I suppose so,” Kendryk said, trying to push down the horror that would overwhelm him if he let it. Everything he’d feared happening to Terragand if he didn’t act, had happened because he had acted. And now he had to repair it. If he could.

  Braeden

  “He’s here.” Karil stuck his head in the door of Braeden’s room, then ran off. Braeden followed more slowly. His wound always troubled him the first hour after waking. By the time he reached the courtyard, Kendryk had dismounted and pulled Karil into an embrace. He smiled when Braeden appeared. “You’re the last people I expected to find here,” he said. “What happened?”

  “Long story.” Braeden clapped Kendryk on the shoulder. He looked well, though tired, with a sad shadow over his eyes. “But first, you’ll meet the duke. Did you have any trouble getting here?”

  “No,” Kendryk said, hurrying to catch up to Braeden as they entered the dilapidated manor house Duke Trystan had turned into his headquarters. It had been abandoned for some time, and was off the main road, so no enemy soldiers passed this way. The woods grew thick all around, and only a few locals knew of it. “We spotted a small artillery detachment on the road south of here, and waited until after dark to move. I don’t think they ever saw or heard us. There are remarkable woodsmen in this army.”

  “Terragand seems to specialize in those,” Duke Trystan said, striding down the corridor toward them. He had mud on his boots, and his cloak was damp, so he’d likely taken a round of guard duty. Braeden liked that about him.

  Trystan paused and bowed in front of Kendryk, reminding Braeden that he’d treated the prince like a junior cavalry officer.

  “Your Grace,” Trystan said, “Welcome back to Terragand.”

  “Thank you,” Kendryk said, extending his hand. He smiled, but his eyes were grave. “It’s good to be back, though I confess I’m appalled at the state of the countryside.”