The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3

by Christina Ochs

  Susanna shook him again. “Come on. Michalek’s pike is moving out in a few hours, and I’m sure your things aren’t packed. You need to get going.”

  Anton opened his eyes. Susanna sat on the edge of the cot, already dressed, with her hair still down.

  “You have pretty hair,” he said. “I wanted to tell you yesterday, but worried I’d sound too forward.”

  “Hmph,” she said. “Groping me the way you did was a little bolder than a compliment.”

  Anton propped himself up on his elbow. “You didn’t seem to mind too much, as I recall.” Then he frowned. “What exactly happened? I remember being on the floor, but how did I get …” He trailed off, since he had just noticed that even though he lay in Susanna’s bed, he still wore his breeches.

  She grinned at him. “You were really drunk,” she said. “And once we got into bed, you fell asleep before much of anything happened.”

  Anton flopped back onto the pillow, feeling like an idiot. “Too bad. I doubt you’ll ever give me another chance.”

  Susanna stood. “Are you sure about that? Why don’t you stop by tonight, and find out?”

  Anton jumped out of bed, though his head throbbed. Rain drummed on the tent, so the march today would be especially miserable. But he didn’t care. “What are you saying?” He realized he should try to act more casual—the count had always told him appearing too eager put women off. Except he was eager, and it was too late to hide it from Susanna in any case.

  Susanna pinned her hair up now, her little hands moving deftly, as if she didn’t even have to think about it. “I’m saying, you should come by after we make camp tonight. And I don’t mean to work. We’ll take the evening off, and become better acquainted.” She finished her hair, then handed Anton his shirt and doublet, nearly dry by now.

  “Acquainted how?” Anton pulled his clothes on quickly. It had to be near dawn, and he had a lot to do before leaving. He hoped Stasny had already taken down their tent.

  Once he was dressed, Susanna came up to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “I’ll tell you all about myself—anything at all. I might have a few questions for you too.”

  “I’ve told you everything.” Anton smiled down at her. In spite of his headache, he wanted to dance a jig.

  “There are a few more things I’d like to find out,” Susanna looked up at him, her eyes grave. “Like who the girl was; the one who taught you to kiss like that.”

  “Oh that.” Anton gave her his special smile. “That comes naturally.”

  Susanna shook her head, though she was smiling too. “Well, you can tell me everything tonight.” She stood up on tiptoe, and kissed him softly on the lips. “Oh, and tell your sergeant to put a new recruit in your tent. You’ll stay with me from now on.”

  Anton’s breath caught. “Are you sure? You want me to live with you?”

  “Why not? We already spend all of our free time together. And it would be more convenient, since we work together too.”

  “Yes, very convenient.” Anton swallowed hard, his head swimming with possibilities. “I don’t want to go,” he whispered.

  “I know. But you must. Bring your things with you when you come tonight.” One more little kiss, and she shoved him out of the tent and into the rain.

  Anton reached his regiment just as Count Michalek had gathered them for a speech of sorts, which he almost never did. He said the empress had ordered them to Terragand, where they would join General Ensden in the fight against King Lennart, who had already invaded Helvundala. Anton found he didn’t care about King Lennart, and wasn’t as unhappy about fighting for the empress as he had been before. In fact, he didn’t care about much at all except seeing Susanna again as soon as he could. Fortunately the speech didn’t go on long, because Count Michalek was drunk, and it was raining hard.

  Anton should have been miserable that day, but he couldn’t stop grinning. Stasny was very grumpy when Anton told him he was moving out. “I’ve been trying to get a nice girl for years,” he said. “Now you show up and snatch up one of the best ones after just a few months.”

  “Told you I was lucky,” Anton said. “I can’t help it if women love me.” He happily marched all day, in the rain, with an awful headache.

  The rain fell in a steady drizzle, creating a mist that covered everything, so it was impossible to see where they were going, besides down a muddy road. He’d rather be on horseback, but marching in step like this wasn’t too bad, with stout fellows on all sides of you, the sergeant leading them in marching songs with words that used to make Anton blush, though they didn’t anymore.

  When they briefly stopped around midday to eat biscuit and cheese, Anton found that Stasny and the sergeant had already spread the word. His comrades looked at him with new respect, and considerable envy. Susanna was popular with the soldiers, but had a reputation for being picky about her men.

  “Thinks she’s too good for the likes of us,” one man sniffed. “Can’t think what she sees in a little squirt like you.” He glared at Anton, who tried not to grin, but failed.

  “It might be my looks,” Anton said, “or my charming personality, my fashion sense, my courage in battle, or my intelligence, but it’s most likely my love-making skills.” It was hard to say that last bit without feeling embarrassed about the previous evening, though he kept a cocky grin firmly in place. To be honest, he enjoyed the good-natured ribbing, and it made him feel like he’d become a real man at last.

  Braeden

  Braeden’s stomach growled so loudly he was sure the enemy heard it. He’d eaten nothing but a little bit of left-over stew early that morning. They’d waited at the tunnel entrance for hours, until a messenger returned through it saying Kendryk and his men had reached the castle.

  “Can’t everyone get back out that way?” Trystan asked.

  Braeden had wondered about that. It would be so much easier if all of them could sneak out of the castle without the enemy knowing about it.

  The messenger shook his head. “There’s a dangerous stretch under the meadow where the support beams have collapsed. We barely made it through the first time, and they chose me to come back because I’m so skinny. I had to crawl through a few holes so small even I got stuck.”

  “I see.” Trystan frowned. “We’ll stay with our original plan then.” He nodded at Braeden. “Terris, you take the cavalry to the south end of the valley.”

  Braeden hurried back around the hill where the small troop of cavalry waited. They numbered only a few hundred, and weren’t close to the Sanova Hussars in experience or skill, but Braeden had drilled them hard, and they would do well enough tonight.

  The rest of Trystan’s troops, including Karil’s musketeer company, would be deployed along the edge of the wood at the base of the hill. Whoever commanded the enemy troops had been lax, and wasn’t keeping an eye on the woods. Braeden wondered if they weren’t expecting anyone, or if it never occurred to them that a large force might get here without being noticed. Without Kendryk’s knowledge of the countryside, they would have been forced to take the main road and attracted attention.

  Braeden led his troops single file along a deer trail at the edge of the woods until they reached a clearing. He sent his most sharp-eyed scout ahead, and he returned quickly with word that the enemy outposts lay a quarter-league distant and out of sight.

  “We’ll cross the clearing at a walk,” Braeden ordered. “We’re more likely to be heard than seen, so do what you can to keep your tack and weapons from jangling.”

  Braeden’s nerves stretched taut as his force strung out, exposed for a good twenty minutes until the woods concealed them once more.

  As afternoon wore into evening, Braeden made sure everyone received a few hours’ rest in shifts and was at the ready. He could expect a signal after dark. He’d posted a lookout on a small hill to his rear with a clear view of its crest. Once the sun dropped behind the mountains and the sky turned dark, a few lone stars blinking into view, he ordered his troops into
formation. He mounted Kazmir in full armor, weapons ready, and watched the hill intently.

  Twilight turned to complete darkness, and it took a while for Braeden’s eyes to adjust. It was quiet, except for the croaking of frogs at a nearby pond. A slight breeze rustled the new leaves, and Braeden shivered. The nights were still cold and damp. He stared at the hill until his eyes crossed, wondering if something had gone wrong.

  Those inside the castle would light a beacon when they were ready, and that would be relayed to all of Trystan’s forces surrounding the valley. Braeden was last in line. If anything went wrong along the way, he might never find out when to attack.

  He had just started formulating a different plan, when light flared up from the hillside. “Advance,” Braeden whispered to a lieutenant, and the command went down the line. He rode to the head of the force, then made for the road, everyone following in two long columns.

  As soon as he came out of the trees onto the road, sounds of battle drifted on the air. Behind him, someone drew a saber.

  “Steady,” Braeden said. “We wait here. I know it’s hard, but it’s part of the plan.”

  “Won’t be any left for us,” someone muttered.

  Braeden chuckled. “We’re outnumbered two to one. That won’t be a problem.”

  They didn’t have to wait much longer. The least stalwart of the enemy troops, and several camp followers came down the road at a run. When they saw the horses standing in their path, they stopped, then ran into the woods on either side of the road.

  “Let them go,” Braeden said. “They’re not fighting us, but mind the rear in case they regroup.”

  He spurred Kazmir lightly, and they advanced along the road. Now he saw more and more of the enemy. Trystan and the others had surprised the sleepy camp, while Kendryk and Count Faris led out the six hundred soldiers from the castle. They’d easily overrun the guards, and everyone else was asleep or otherwise unprepared. Most of the soldiers Braeden caught retreating along the road carried few or unloaded weapons. He sent several dozen of his troopers to round up prisoners and disarm them.

  His main task was more important. They were in the enemy camp now, moving quickly through fleeing soldiers and camp followers. Even in the dark it wasn’t hard to know when they’d reached the baggage train.

  “Secure all the wagons,” Braeden said. “Guard those holding food most carefully, then those holding powder and weapons.” All this was for nothing if they were still starving at the end of the night.

  By the time Braeden found Trystan in the center of camp, he was accepting the formal surrender of Alona Brynner, the colonel in charge of the siege. A short, sturdy veteran of many Zastwar campaigns, she recognized Braeden as soon as he stepped into the circle of light outside her tent.

  Her pudgy face split into a smile. “Terris!” she said. “This really is too bad. If I’d been more careful, I’d be rich from collecting the bounty on that scruffy head of yours.”

  Braeden grinned. “Too bad for you. It’s good to see you, old girl. Maybe we can catch up later.” He turned to Trystan. “Baggage is secured, and my men are rounding up a good many prisoners. There’s a lot of food out there.”

  “Thank the gods,” Trystan said. He turned toward Brynner. “Reckon I can get the prisoners to fight for me?”

  She shrugged, as Trystan handed back her sword. “Depends on how well you pay. Everyone was flush for a few weeks after Livilla Maxima paid us off, but I used most of mine to lay in supplies for a month-long siege. I imagine the others have gambled theirs away by now.”

  “I have nothing,” Trystan said in that forthright way he had. “But we’re going to meet King Lennart, and he’s got a lot of coin and is looking to hire.”

  “Think he’d have a place for me?” Brynner slid her sword back into its scabbard. “Ensden won’t be happy that I’ve botched this.”

  “I’m sure he would,” Trystan said, and just like that, Alona Brynner and her army joined the ranks of Kendryk’s allies.

  Elektra

  Even though she hadn’t wanted to return at first, Elektra was glad to see Atlona again. She’d been away for over three years, and it really was different, passing through the big gates on her splendid charger, at the head of her own regiment. Livilla had been careful to arrange it so her mother was present when Elektra approached the parade grounds in front of the Palais Arden.

  On the long journey from Brandana, Elektra explained to Livilla why impressing her mother was so important to her.

  “She doesn’t think me capable,” she’d said. “And I know I am.”

  “I know you are too,” Livilla said with a kind smile.

  “But I’m afraid Mother will make me go back to school, and give my regiment to someone else.”

  “I doubt she’s given it much thought,” Livilla said, “so we must do our best to show her how different you are now. I’m certain she found the story of your kidnapping and escape marvelous, so she shouldn’t be too surprised to see how you’ve changed.”

  “I have changed a lot, haven’t I?” Elektra had, at least outwardly. Even at her worst, she’d always known she was made of the stuff to be empress, though she hadn’t been so good at showing it. But now she looked the part.

  Perhaps she wasn’t as tall or as attractive as her mother, but she carried herself well. She had grown taller, and lost the baby fat that lent her face a childish pudginess. Her skin had cleared under a light tan, while her hair thickened and darkened to a rather pleasing dark brown with a slight reddish hue. A few men even looked at her in the way men looked at pretty women, and that gave her confidence too.

  Above all, Elektra realized she could take care of herself, and that she was a good leader. Her arguments with Karil had taught her there were better and worse ways of handling one’s subjects. She’d learned that grace and tact went further than a domineering manner. When she was empress, people would obey, no matter how she gave the orders, but she wanted more than the grudging, fearful obedience her mother commanded. She wanted to be loved and respected, and was well on her way to accomplishing this. Once she got rid of her mother, everyone would realize that Elektra was by far the better ruler.

  These pleasant thoughts had led to a rather inappropriate grin on her face as her mother’s suite approached. Elektra replaced it with a cool, slightly haughty look that always worked well on stubborn officers. Somehow, Livilla had persuaded Teodora to review Elektra’s troops, which were in top condition. Elektra had received a large sum from Livilla as official payment for leaving Mattila, and borrowed even more. She used the money to outfit the entire regiment with new clothing, matching tabards bearing the Inferrara crest, a suit of half-armor for each soldier, and finely crafted modern weapons from Zeelund. Then she used every spare moment to drill them mercilessly, until they moved like one enormous, glittering creature. All that remained was to prove them in battle.

  As Teodora came near, Elektra urged her horse forward. “It’s good to see you again, Your Highness,” she lied.

  Teodora pulled her horse to a stop. “I’m glad you finally came home. Why did you disobey my orders?”

  Elektra wondered if her mother even noticed the magnificent troops ranged behind her, and willed the flush rising up her neck to disappear. “I received no orders from you, I’m afraid,” she said, keeping her face expressionless. This was technically true, since orders went straight to Mattila. Elektra never so much as received a personal letter from her mother.

  “Hmph,” Teodora said, frowning. “I suppose Mattila kept them from you.”

  “Probably.” Elektra shrugged, trying to conceal her shock over how much worse her mother looked. Her dark hair bore gray streaks, and wrinkles creased her forehead and the skin around her mouth, while her eyes looked flat and lifeless. Elektra realized she’d been away for several years, and a great deal had happened in that time. “I’m back now, but just for a short time.”

  Teodora raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you think?”

&nbs
p; Elektra did her best to stay calm. “I have orders. Count Ensden needs me in Terragand.”

  “Ridiculous,” Teodora said. “He needs those soldiers, not you. They’re very pretty. I recall you liked dressing up your dolls too.”

  Elektra swallowed down her indignation. Everything depended on showing her mother she was an adult who couldn’t be pushed around. It would do no good to lose her temper like a helpless little girl. “I don’t believe you ever paid enough attention to me to remember what I did with my dolls. If you had, you’d recall I enjoyed beheading them.” Elektra narrowed her eyes and stared straight at her mother.

  Teodora burst out laughing. “You’re right. I can’t abide children—so dull. But I must confess, I like that you’ve grown a spine. You were quite ridiculous last time we spoke.”

  “I’m an adult now,” Elektra said quietly.

  “We’ll see about that.” Teodora’s face changed to one of false friendliness. “But come. We haven’t seen each other in years, and I’m sure you have a great deal to tell me. Send these fine fellows to the barracks, and give them a week’s leave. You’ll come stay with me, and we’ll discuss everything.”

  Elektra nodded, not knowing what else to do. Her officers and troops would welcome the time off in the city— many had family here—and she couldn’t defy her mother in front of everyone. It would just end in embarrassment. She’d have to find another way, and hope to get help from Livilla.

  “You’ll stay in the guest wing, since you’re old room is occupied,” Teodora was saying.

  “Did Zofya take my room?” Elektra frowned. She wouldn’t have minded staying near the nursery, with her little brother, who probably wasn’t so little anymore.

  “Zofya is at the temple school now, and so is your brother. No, your rooms have been taken over by Aksel Roussay and his laboratory.”

  That was good news, and Elektra didn’t try to hide her smile. “How nice. He and I are old friends.”