“Maladena won’t help us by sending such a letter.” Karolyna couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“They won’t.” Kendryk shook his head. Perhaps he was amazed at her dullness even more than Lennart was. “But we might make them believe it.”
“Forge a letter, for instance,” Trystan put in.
“Now we’re getting ideas,” Lennart said, his excitement rising. The idea of a big victory wasn’t as satisfying as it could be. It had to be a famous victory too, one that would make a good story. “Perhaps it’s time we let one or two Maladene ships through the blockade. Or at least, ships that look like they’re Maladene.” He turned to Tavio Sora. “Do you reckon you can compose a letter that would sound suitably official?” When Sora shrugged, then nodded, Lennart turned to the rest of the table. “Does anyone know if Ensden reads Maladene? I should probably ask before we write something fancy.”
Alona Brynner said, “He does. He speaks and reads well enough since he was a junior officer under Montanez in Cesiano years ago.”
“Excellent,” Lennart said. “Let’s do this. Sora, you’ll stay here and we’ll work on a letter. The rest of you move the whole army to the west side of the river. We’ll do it quiet and use that bridge about fifteen leagues downstream.”
“That’ll take days,” Isenberg said.
“It will, but it’ll take longer than that to figure out how to get this message to Ensden. I want Lofbrok and Kalstrom to pull out quietly from the beaches leaving a skeleton garrison—let Ensden think you’re still there. We’ll set up far enough to the south to be out of sight, but close enough we can catch Ensden before he reaches the beach. And let’s back away from the city altogether.”
“I doubt Ensden will believe it,” someone said.
“He won’t.” Lennart pondered for a moment. “We’ll include something about that in the letter. We’ll tell him a force is attacking us from the south; maybe say Teodora has raised another army and we’ve marched off to stop it, while he’s stuck inside the city. We’ll work on it while getting everyone into place.” Lennart stood, and there was a great clatter as chairs pushed away from the table. “Those of you who don’t have troops to move far, get them drilled and in shape for battle. It won’t be more than a few weeks now.”
Braeden
“So you’re saying this is the Archduchess Elektra?” Edric Maximus looked at the girl, still unconscious and lying on a bench. “Teodora’s daughter?”
“Her heir as well,” Braeden said. “And more trouble than anyone I’ve ever known. I don’t want to imagine what would have happened to you if I hadn’t stumbled onto her scouts.”
“I would expect Teodora’s daughter to be trouble,” Edric said with a grin. He seemed unbothered by the fact that he’d nearly been kidnapped and possibly murdered. Franca had said it was all she could do to persuade Elektra not to kill the Maximus on the spot.
“Now what do we do with her?” Braeden asked. He was having a bite to eat in the Maximus’s palace, mostly to kill time so Franca could get away. “I hoped to put her in the Arnfels and see if we can extract concessions from Teodora in exchange for her eventual freedom.”
“That seems the reasonable thing to do,” Edric said, still staring at Elektra. “But I’m not sure. Perhaps there is another, greater advantage to be gained.”
“I don’t understand,” Braeden said. “What other advantage is there except for concessions from Teodora?” He figured it was best not to mention he’d prefer to see Elektra dead. At this point he was more than willing to do the deed without hesitation.
“When Teodora dies, Elektra will be empress, is that correct?” Edric asked.
“Yes.”
“How old is the girl?”
“Sixteen,” Braeden said.
“So when she comes to the throne, there will be a regency.”
“Yes, but only until she turns seventeen.” Braeden hoped she wouldn’t live that long.
“Interesting.” Edric stared at the wall, while Braeden polished off the rest of his meat and boiled potatoes. For a Maximus, Edric kept a simple table.
“What do you have in mind?” Braeden asked, pushing away his empty plate.
“I’d like to talk to her at least, when she wakes up. But first I’d like to know why she fainted from the shock of seeing you. Clearly, the two of you have a troubled history.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Braeden growled.
“Let’s go into the other room and you can tell me,” Edric said. “I’d rather you not be here when she wakes up, since I don’t want her to faint again.”
“She’s more likely to try to kill me,” Braeden said, grumpy now he was realizing Edric wanted to deprive him of his prize.
“All the more reason to keep you separated then.” Edric showed Braeden into a small room off the larger receiving hall where Elektra still slept. “Now tell me everything.”
That took the better part of an hour, by which time a servant stuck his head in the door to tell them the young lady was awake.
“Let me go to her alone,” Edric said. “It isn’t wise for the two of you to be in the same building together, let alone the same room.”
“Do you want to tell me what you have in mind? I’m not sure how I will explain to Lennart that I had her in my clutches and let her go.”
“You needn’t worry about that. I’ll write to him in the morning. Will you join him now, or are Dura’s Cuirassiers still a threat?”
“They’re not a threat,” Braeden said vaguely. Franca had said only that she was leaving the area and would trouble the Maximus no more. Braeden suspected she might make for Kaltental, not wanting to miss out on the fun. “But I’m not leaving you here unprotected.”
“I have my guards.” Edric smiled.
“You’ve got to be joking,” Braeden said. “If I hadn’t shown up when I did, there’s no telling where you’d be right now. I’ll stay in the area and make sure no other mystery force appears.”
“Do whatever you think is best. I’m very appreciative of your help today. Though I’m curious how you overcame the Sanovan force so quickly.”
“They took off once it was clear we outnumbered them and had the archduchess trapped in the city.” Braeden hoped Edric would let him leave it at that. The reality had been rather different.
“I’d love to nab that Maximus,” Franca had said. “Elektra is right for once; it would end the war quickly. Isn’t that what you want?” She scowled at Braeden when he appeared to cut her off on her way to Heidenhof.
“I do,” Braeden said. “But even more, I want Elektra dead.”
“I don’t blame you,” Franca said. “She’s got a rather high opinion of herself for someone who can’t pull off the simplest operation. And all she cares about is looking good in front of the empress.”
“Teodora is a hard woman to impress,” Braeden said, grinning.
“I don’t care,” Franca said, then sighed. “If you don’t want me to capture the Maximus and stop the war, I won’t fight you about it.”
“Good,” Braeden said. “I’d hate to fight you.”
“I hate it that you’re with the enemy,” Franca burst out. “It feels wrong.”
“It does,” Braeden said, then told her what he might do once he’d finished with Lennart.
“You should go now,” Franca said. “Novitny would be thrilled. And no one will notice if you’re not here.”
“I’ll notice,” Braeden said, “You understand. But Lennart will win soon, and then I can go.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that,” Franca said. “If your lot wins, then what’ll become of me?”
“You’ll join us in Sanova,” Braeden said, wishing that could happen right now.
“I’d like that,” Franca said. “But in the meantime, I’ll get out of your way if you won’t let me take the Maximus. Do what you want with Elektra. I’ll probably head north.”
“I won’t chase you.” Braeden turned Kazmir toward Heidenhof. �
��And Franca,” he said. “I hope the next time I see you, we’ll be on the same side.”
It was hard to shake off the heaviness that came over him, both at letting Franca ride into danger and at seeing Anton’s horse. One of the first things he’d asked upon meeting Franca was, “Where did you get that charger? A Norovaean, isn’t he?” He was identical to Skandar, though Braeden reckoned that breed all looked much alike.
“He is,” Franca patted his neck. “Bregir’s a good fellow, though on the spirited side.”
“Where did you get him?” Braeden found his mouth was dry.
“Bought him from Mattila, of all people. Back when Livilla Maxima paid us off, I had coin and the general didn’t.”
“Where did she get him?” Braeden looked at the horse more closely. “I knew a Norovaean once, named Skandar.”
The horse nickered and Franca gave him another pat. “That would be a good name for him. Don’t know where Mattila got him, though she acquired a few fine chargers after defeating Arian Orland. Are you all right, sir?”
Braeden had made a choking noise. He hung on tight to Kazmir and let a wave of nausea pass. “I suppose that’s it then,” he said softly, then told Franca about Anton. “I’ve been hoping all this time he was still alive, but if Mattila got his horse, it seems unlikely.”
“I’m so sorry, sir. Now I feel awful about it.”
“Don’t,” Braeden said quickly. “I’d rather you had him than anyone else in the world.”
Franca took a deep breath. “Maybe you shouldn’t give up hope. Mattila took a few dozen prisoners when she defeated Orland. She forced them to enlist in her army. If your stepson was the lucky little scrap you say he was, well then he might be a soldier in Ensden’s army right now.”
Braeden had to chuckle. “He’d hate that.”
Still, once he’d left the Maximus and Elektra behind, and made his way back to Birkenfels, he couldn’t help but feel a new wave of sadness, knowing he’d never see Anton again.
Gwynneth
Deep down, Gwynneth realized that having anything further to do with Fernanda Vastic would be unwise, but Natalya was proving to be difficult. At her next visit, Gwynneth brought up leaving for Terragand, but she counseled delay.
“You ought to wait until Lennart has defeated Ensden decisively,” Natalya said, her eyes hard. “There’s no point in going all that way and finding out Terragand isn’t secure.”
“But it is secure,” Gwynneth insisted. “Lennart holds nearly all of it now except for that northern bit. If I go to Birkenfels, I’ll be perfectly safe.”
“I’d rather not risk it,” Natalya said. “I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you or the children.”
Gwynneth tried not to react to that with disbelief, but she didn’t quite succeed.
Natalya’s eyes softened. “Things between us are difficult,” she said, “but you’re still my friend and I feel responsible for your well-being. And I am so fond of the children.”
That at least was true. Maryna and Devyn had continued their lessons at Natalya’s school and Maryna especially was the Maxima’s favorite student, excelling in every subject and hanging on her every word. “I know.” Gwynneth attempted a smile. “I’m just terribly anxious, so far away from the action. And I miss Kendryk so much it hurts. It seems so unfair we’ve had to be apart for so long.”
“Many things are unfair,” Natalya said gravely. “But we must endure them anyway. Now, we must discuss how best to influence the queen. You’ve done well turning her away from Teodora.”
“That was easy enough,” Gwynneth said. “She was already resentful of her mother when she got here. I let her talk about it and the more she talks, the angrier she gets.”
Natalya offered a rare smile. “Now it’s time to change her attitude toward the king. I’m afraid at this point she sees him as a beloved older brother. That won’t do, since Gauvain needs an heir and he needs one soon.”
“She’s still so young.”
“I understand.” There was perhaps a glimmer of sympathy in Natalya’s eyes. “But it can’t be helped. It’s important for the future of the kingdom. I’m sure you’ll be discreet. But I want you to impress upon her the importance of her role. I believe she likes Gauvain well enough, but he will wait for her to act first, so she must.”
Gwynneth sighed. “I’ll do what I can. Oh, and before I go, I wanted to ask what you know about one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting.”
“A ridiculous, silly bunch.” Natalya shook her head.
“Most of them are, but I’m curious about a Fernanda Vastic. She seems so different from the others.”
“Oh yes, the one with the strange eyes and annoying voice.” Natalya chewed her lip. “I might have to consult my notes, but if I recall, she’s a distant cousin of the empress’s. No doubt she wanted to get her out of the country. Relatives have a way of causing trouble when they don’t have enough to do.”
“She rather seems like someone who might do that,” Gwynneth said, hoping Natalya would take the hint if she’d heard anything interesting.
“Probably, though as far as I can tell, she’s caused no trouble here.” Natalya drew her brows together. “She hasn’t done or said anything untoward, has she?”
“Oh no.” Gwynneth shook her head. “No, she just looks rather odd, and I wondered if there was a story behind it. It seems not.”
“Some people just look interesting when they’re not,” Natalya said with a smile as Gwynneth got ready to leave. “Now, don’t forget what I said about the queen.”
“Of course not,” Gwynneth said, even as she wished with more intensity she could be gone from here tomorrow.
It was a shock to return to her house and find Fernanda Vastic waiting for her in the drawing room. “I’m very sorry, Your Grace,” she said. “But I have urgent news for you.”
“Really?” Gwynneth found that hard to believe. “It’s funny,” she said as they both sat down. “I was just asking the Maxima about you.”
Fernanda smiled. “I don’t suppose she told you anything interesting.”
“She did not, though she might be lying.”
“Possibly, but I have no reason to believe she knows anything about me.”
“I’m sure the Maxima checked the background of everyone accompanying the queen.”
“Oh, I’m sure she did.” Fernanda smiled again, that odd, tight-lipped expression. “But Mattila would make certain she found nothing of interest.”
“I suppose she would,” Gwynneth said, waving for Linette to order tea. Lately, Natalya never offered her anything when she went to visit. “So, what do you have for me?”
Fernanda reached into her bodice and pulled out a tightly folded note. “A message from your husband.”
“You’re joking,” Gwynneth said, though she had to steady her hand as she took the note.
“I’m not.” Fernanda settled back into her chair with a rather smug look on her face.
Gwynneth shot her an angry glance before she unfolded the paper. Then she gasped. The note was in Kendryk’s hand, using one of their personal ciphers. “How?” she gasped, dropping it into her lap while she caught her breath. “How did you get this?”
“It’s a rather long story,” Fernanda said.
“I don’t care,” Gwynneth said, refusing to read the note until she knew more about this. “You must tell me how you got this.” She glanced down at it. “The cipher is one we haven’t used in some time. That’s odd.”
“It seemed safer, considering the Maxima has long had the key to the one you normally use.”
Gwynneth stared at Fernanda. She’d expected as much from Natalya, but was amazed to hear it confirmed, especially by this person. “All right.” She took a long drink of tea, waving Linette away after she’d poured for both of them. “Linette and Avaron, please leave us for a few moments.” Whatever was happening here, she wanted no one else finding out about it.
Anton
“It’s not
too awful for you, is it?” Anton asked Susanna, as he did several times a day. He knew she got impatient with his hovering, but he couldn’t help himself. The way things were going, he was likely to fight a big battle around the time she was ready to have the baby. Anton wished he’d been able to avoid re-enlisting.
“I’m fine.” She leaned back against the flat pillows on the little bed. They lived in a damp, drafty attic on the fourth floor of a very tall, skinny house. “I’m tired, but that’s to be expected.”
“You can stop working now,” Anton said. “I’m making enough money.”
That was true, but not the whole story. Colonel Granter, who led Anton’s new regiment, paid his troops plenty. But there was hardly anything to buy in the city and the little available, was terribly expensive. Anton and Susanna spent a month’s pay on a week’s food. They couldn’t go on like this much longer.
Susanna smiled at him and took his hand, pulling him down next to her. “I don’t want to stop working. It’s not that bad and it’s a good way to get extra food.” She’d been hired on by the regiment as a cook’s assistant. Anton worried the work was much too hard for someone as small as Susanna, pregnant or not, with the huge iron pots she needed to lift and carry. But she sometimes got extra scraps of food at the end of the day, since the cook—a rotund, grandfatherly fellow—took a liking to the two of them. “I’ll work until the baby comes and then I’ll try to take some time off.”
“By then we’ll have won the battle.” Anton tried to sound cheerful, but he doubted they’d win. All the troops inside the city were optimistic and eager to fight, but none of them had faced Lennart. Only a few days after Anton arrived, word came that Lennart caught up to Count Michalek’s fleeing regiment and finished it off. That Anton and Susanna left so quickly saved their lives, at least for now. But Anton didn’t want to take his chances against Lennart again.
The Desolate Empire Series: Books 1-3 Page 142