“Too cold,” Anton muttered, snuggling closer to a warm, soft Susanna. He didn’t need to look outside to see it would be another foggy day, impossible to stay warm no matter how hard they drilled. And they weren’t drilling too hard right now, since no one expected a big battle before spring.
Susanna poked him again. “I’ll get up too. That way you have no reason to stay.” She flung the blankets off both of them, and jumped out of bed, scrambling into her clothes before Anton could move. No matter how motivated, he had never been able to get dressed that fast, even though his clothes were less complicated. Still, it was cold enough he got dressed quickly.
“Stay here,” he told Susanna. “I’ll see if someone has coffee.” He grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, since her teeth already chattered. “I’ll be right back.” He kissed her on the nose, then grabbed his cloak and two tin cups before leaving the tent. It had probably been light for some time, although everyone slept late because of the gloom. But someone had built a fire, and Anton smelled the coffee. The quartermaster didn’t let on where he’d found it, but Anton suspected the fellow of rooting around in a merchant’s cellar in one of the towns along their way.
After another soldier filled Anton’s cups, he made his way back to the tent, holding them carefully, making sure he didn’t trip over anything. He’d just put both cups on the table in front of Susanna, when a nearby bugle sounded the alarm.
“Probably just a drill,” Susanna said. Anton never heard it sounded for any real reason. As far as he knew, the enemy was at Birkenfels, some fifty leagues away, and unlikely to leave this time of year.
“I should go anyway.” Anton reached for his pistols, but left his armor. It might help warm him, but it would be cold at first. “The sergeant has been counting us these last few times. Go back to bed if you want, and I’ll join you later.” He kissed Susanna again, then left the tent, falling in next to a few of his comrades passing by. One of them was still struggling into his clothes.
“Blasted awful time for a drill,” one fellow said.
“They wouldn’t do it at a good time,” Anton said. “What’s the fun in that?” He loaded his pistols as they walked. The last time he didn’t bother, and the sergeant clubbed him across the ears for it. That seemed unfair, since few of the pikemen carried pistols, but Anton wasn’t about to argue when the sergeant was in a mood.
They made their way to the little parade ground in the center of camp, and by the time they reached it, nearly the whole regiment was assembled. “What’s going on?” Anton asked as he fell in next to Stasny.
“Drill, I expect.” Stasny shrugged. “Can’t see anything.”
They stood around for a while, the damp chill seeping through Anton’s cloak. “Wish they’d hurry, whatever they’re doing.”
Soon there was a commotion, as Count Michalek and several officers thundered onto the parade ground on horseback. “Form up,” the count shouted, his face redder than usual. “We’re under attack.”
That seemed odd, since it was quiet all around. Maybe the enemy hadn’t arrived yet. Anton waited for the sergeant to hurry over with orders. “Who’s attacking us?” he asked.
“Lennart,” the sergeant gasped. “The king of Estenor himself.”
“The king is attacking us?” Anton found that hard to believe. “Personally?”
“That’s what it looks like,” the sergeant said. “The pike wagons will be here in a minute, but we’ll start marching now. He’s attacked the southern end of the valley and our cavalry is holding him off, but we must back them up.”
Anton still hadn’t quite grasped what was happening. This wasn’t like any battle he’d ever been in, with it so quiet and no one seeming very upset. He tried to focus on what the sergeant was saying.
“We’re outnumbered pretty bad if he’s brought everyone. But if we’re smart about it, we might keep them from getting into the valley.”
Anton realized what the sergeant meant. They needed to stop the enemy long enough for everyone else to get away. He thought of Susanna, wondering if anyone had told her what was happening. She needed to gather the necessities and head north. “I need to let Susanna know,” he said under his breath to Stasny.
“Someone will, I’m sure. They’ll have time to get away.”
“Gods, I hope so,” Anton said, dancing on first one foot, then the other. It was all he could do to keep from breaking ranks, and running back to camp. “She’ll need help.”
“Steady man,” Stasny said, looking sympathetic. “She’ll get it. And likely she’s been through this before.”
“What if we lose?” Anton whispered, fear surging back. He was unlikely to be shot at by any big guns, but he thought of the numbers Lennart had. “If he’s brought his whole army, there’s no way we’ll win.”
“We don’t know if he’s brought his whole army,” Stasny said. “Not yet at least.”
Elektra
Until the ambush, Elektra had never paid much attention to her small cavalry, but it impressed her with its performance now. Not only did it hold firm when she challenged Princess Zelenka’s guards, but her rearguard fought an efficient action against their pursuers after they broke through. Elektra was in such a state she forgot to give the order, but her officers acted anyway. She hoped they would be as resourceful in the next weeks.
They might have escaped Princess Zelenka, but their prospects looked grim. Winter was coming on fast, and they’d abandoned all of their supplies during the ambush. At least Elektra and her officers carried a fair amount of coin so they could buy the necessities for a short time. They traveled through the eastern part of Arcius, so far untouched by war, so they found markets selling food, and barns full of hay.
But it wasn’t safe to stay in Arcius, and Elektra didn’t know what to expect in Sanova. She planned to contact her uncle in Novuk, but that was so far away, it would take weeks for him to respond, if he responded at all. He might not be at all inclined to help Teodora’s daughter, no matter how much she told him she hated her mother. So she did her best to stock up on supplies while hurrying for the Sanova border.
Princess Zelenka, it seemed, decided not to pursue her, but Elektra was certain she’d sent word to Atlona. By now Teodora might have dispatched her own forces after her. Once she reached Sanova, it would be a little more difficult for them to apprehend her, legally at least.
Elektra shivered, pulling her cloak close around her. The land flattened out as they neared the border, and stretched out ahead, gray and featureless. The clouds hung so low, the horizon blurred into a hazy mass. Towns and farms were few, the long grass withered and gray.
Though her officers had been enthusiastic about their escape from the Zelenka palace, reality demoralized them as the days wore on. With such small numbers, they stood little chance, should they run into any of Lennart’s allies. Elektra hated having to go so far around Lantura and Podoska to reach Terragand, but she didn’t dare risk staying in Kronland. She must get through Sanova somehow without starving; it was her responsibility and no one else’s.
No one stopped them at the border. Sanova was at peace now, and likely didn’t care about what went on in Kronland. The land was poor, the population sparse, and Elektra tried not to worry about where she’d next find food. They quickly ran out of hay, though the horses reluctantly ate the grayish grass. At least they wouldn’t starve. But people couldn’t eat that grass and Elektra saw nothing else for leagues around.
She rationed the little food they had, but though all of them were hungry all the time, they’d still run out in a few days. As they drew level with Podoska, Elektra considered raiding into it before her troops became too weak to do so. Farmers living near the border said that its army had gone to join Lennart, so the rural areas and borderlands might be poorly guarded.
Elektra didn’t send out scouts, since Sanova wasn’t hostile, and scouting took energy no one had. So she was surprised when she came upon a large cavalry camp at a cros
sroads one evening.
The sight of the Sanovan flag caused a cramp of anxiety, until Elektra remembered that Braeden Terris was no longer a Sanova Hussar. The hussars still fought for her mother, after being lured away from Mattila with everyone else..
Before riding into camp, Elektra washed her face and re-braided her hair. She looked a sight, since she hadn’t changed clothes in several weeks after losing all of her things in the ambush. She ordered a page to polish up her rusty cuirass and her weapons. She doubted she’d appear belligerent, but wanted to look prepared for anything. She would need to beg for food, and hoped she would pull it off gracefully.
Once she was ready, she rode to the camp perimeter, flanked by her senior officers. “I’m the Archduchess Elektra,” she said, remembering to sound haughty. “Take me to your commander.”
The guard, a stout young man with a dull-looking face, nodded, his mouth wide open, then ran off. Elektra followed him, looking around the camp, wondering who commanded here. This was a Sanovan cavalry unit, but perhaps not Novitny’s famed hussars. Still, it looked in good condition, and Elektra wondered if it was joining Ensden.
An officer came to greet her. “The commander will see you right away, Your Grace. Please follow me.”
Elektra dismounted, and entered a large tent in the middle of camp. She bit back a squeak of dismay when she saw the officer in charge, a lanky red-headed young woman standing behind a map-strewn table. Even in the gloom of the tent, there was no question who it was.
Elektra lifted her chin, and hoped to keep her voice from shaking. “I believe we’ve met before, Captain Dura.” She swept into a chair before being offered.
Dura looked down at her, then said, “I want to speak to the Archduchess alone.” She waved to a servant, who led Elektra’s officers back out.
Elektra’s hand went to her dagger under her cloak, though she doubted she could do anything if this woman attacked her. But then she remembered that the captain, and not she, was in the wrong. She went on the offensive. “How is it you’re in charge of the Sanova Hussars? It seems odd, after what happened in Brandana.”
“What are you talking about?” Captain Dura sat down, glaring at Elektra. “We’re reorganizing after being assigned back to Ensden. My superior retired, and I’ve been recruiting here, since Ensden’s put me in charge. So you can refer to me as Colonel Dura, Your Grace.” She said it with a frightening amount of venom, “And since I have the strong impression you will need my help, I suggest you make no unfounded accusations. Is that understood?”
Kendryk
“It seems we’re going overland,” Tora Isenberg said, leaning across the table to hand Kendryk Lennart’s latest dispatch. “The king wants us at Kaltental within the month, but all of his ships are busy blockading it.”
“It says here he’ll send them for us, if we want,” Kendryk said after reading the message. He and Isenberg had returned to Prince Ossian’s palace to coordinate with his army.
“It’s unnecessary,” Isenberg said. “The most important thing right now, is keeping Maladene supplies out of Kaltental. Besides, it’s not far. If we leave soon, we’ll get there well before Lennart arrives. I would rather keep those ships in place, and make things easier for us in the long run.”
“Then I agree,” Kendryk said. In the past few months he’d nearly made friends with the business-like Isenberg. It had taken some time to make her stop treating him like an incompetent youngster, but everything changed when he persuaded Prince Ossian to supply several thousand troops.
Kendryk had just about given up hope, even though the prince’s cousin, the friendly Duke Arvus backed him consistently. But Kendryk received a letter from Braeden, sending greetings from his aunt in Oltena, and explaining that he and Trystan between them had brought four Kronland kingdoms into the alliance. Kendryk passed the news on to Prince Ossian rather casually, but the duke took it from there.
“It’s humiliating,” Duke Arvus shouted, stomping all over Ossian’s chilly hall, his voice echoing from the rafters. “Everyone is doing their share, and here we sit, practically next door, too scared to move.”
“I’m not scared,” Prince Ossian said, “just cautious.”
“That’s wise of you,” Kendryk said, shooting the duke a look, hoping he’d hold his tongue for a moment. “But think of how terrible your position will be when Lennart wins. Mattila is sure to throw herself to his side and then you’ll be isolated. Terragand will always be your friend, but I’ll have little influence at first.” Kendryk hoped humility might do the trick. “I would hate it if Lennart caused you problems, but I won’t be able to stop him.”
“It’s always best to choose the winning side,” the duke added.
“I’ve chosen wrong before,” Prince Ossian grumbled. “Arryk looked promising when he first arrived.”
“Lennart is not Arryk,” Kendryk said. “My brother-in-law is a fine man, but he came here without the backing he needed. Lennart hasn’t made a significant move in all these months because he wants Kronland behind him. And now he has much of it. Unlike Arryk, he’s an excellent general. Your troops won’t be wasted.”
It took most of the night and a great deal of wine, but between the two of them, Kendryk and the duke finally wore Prince Ossian down, and he agreed to send an army of five thousand to Terragand under Kendryk’s and the duke’s joint command.
Kendryk was pleased that he would arrive in Terragand at the head of a force that Lennart had no part in raising. Though Lennart’s letters remained friendly, Kendryk worried he preferred to keep him out of the action as long as possible. If Lennart won Terragand without Kendryk’s presence, it would be clear to everyone that Kendryk was nothing more than a puppet. He would have far more credibility if he contributed to a victory.
Before departing for Terragand, Kendryk wrote to Gwynneth, hoping the news that Lennart planned to engage soon would cheer her up. Her recent letters had been lacking in animation, very unlike her. She said little about what was happening, but Kendryk suspected it was because she was unable to. Every letter he received from her had been opened before being resealed, and he supposed his would be treated the same way. He wished he understood what Natalya was doing, and why it affected Gwynneth so terribly, but received no answers. Even Gauvain’s letters were pleasant, boring, and devoid of any useful information. It seemed everyone was afraid of Natalya, and Kendryk couldn’t wait to get his family away from her.
The morning of the army’s departure dawned gray and cold.
“I’d never thought to do this in midwinter,” Kendryk said to Isenberg as they rode along the beach. They would follow it for a time before the road turned inland, heading toward Terragand.
“Neither does Ensden, with any luck,” Isenberg said. “We all learned to fight in the winter during the war against Sanova. The key is to set up solid supply lines so you don’t have to live off the land. We don’t use huge hordes of cavalry either, so we have fewer horses to feed than most armies.”
Kendryk noticed that the general made meticulous preparations with her quartermasters, buying up vast amounts of supplies all over Ummarvik and renting warehouses in key towns. A steady stream of wagons would follow them all the way to Kaltental.
The icy wind blew sleet into Kendryk’s face, but he smiled into it. If all went well, he was returning to Terragand for good.
Lennart
Lennart wasn’t used to fighting on this kind of terrain, but this was a good place to practice. Little was at stake, but if he figured out a way to dislodge this small army, he would feel more at home in Kronland.
An imperial cavalry unit held the mouth of the valley, and Lennart knew his muskets would break it in no time. Pike were useless here. In fact, Lennart saw little need for them at all. His muskets were more accurate than any in the empire, his musketeers better-drilled and faster at reloading than any others. He kept his small cavalry in reserve, though even without Braeden in command, they were eager to be part of the action. “You’ll
have plenty to do once we get through this lot,” he told a cavalry captain who had ridden over to receive his orders.
The captain frowned. “It sounds hot in there.” He nodded toward the road running alongside the river, steep hills rising on the other side. Great billows of smoke came from it as the fog slowly blew away under a gray sky. The gunfire was muffled but steady.
“A bit warm.” Lennart was twitchy. He wanted to get moving, since he would be leading the main force once the way cleared. “Won’t be long now,” he told the captain. “You can get your unit ready to go.”
An adjutant came galloping up the road. “Our muskets have broken through, Your Highness,” he said. “There’s pike behind their cavalry, covering nearly all the flat ground, from what I can tell.”
“They won’t be there long.” Lennart looked up at the steep hilltops. If the enemy commander had any sense, he would have placed his artillery up there. But with the valley so narrow, they would only be effective on a short stretch of road. Best to get down it before the fog cleared altogether and they could aim. He turned to Geffrey Manier. “Give the order,” he said. “We’re going in.”
Another battalion of muskets marched forward, ready for Lennart to lead them. He liked what he saw up ahead. The enemy had a few thousand pike, but weren’t able to deploy properly in the cramped space. The road crested a small hill, and Lennart noticed the enemy camp behind them, already in disarray. Everyone was getting out while they could. The only way to go was north, which suited Lennart just fine. He would likely kill a good number here, take even more prisoner, and let the rest run to Ensden, telling him what had happened.
It had been some time since he’d been in a proper battle, and the joy built up in Lennart , a wild feeling hard to hold back. He took his place at the head of the musketeers, and looked back at them. “Slow and steady now,” he said. “Until they break.” He paused for their laughter. “Then you can chase ‘em all the way to Kaltental if you like.”
The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3 Page 136