Fall of the Titan (The Desolate Empire Book 5)

by Christina Ochs

  Lennart stayed in the middle of the road while he figured out his next move. “This is what we’ll do,” he said. He turned to an adjutant. “Send our fastest messenger to Princess Galena. Tell the princess to do anything she can to delay Mattila, though I want Princess Gwynneth and her children sent well out of harm’s way in the meantime. Princess Galena is a smart woman; she’ll think of something.”

  He turned to another adjutant after the first one tore back down the road. “Send word to General Lofbrok,” he said. “Tell him I’m going through Podoska to stop Franca Dura from reaching Heidenhof before everyone else. I want him to get as many troops as he can on the road; never mind the artillery for now. He needs to get to Oltena and engage Mattila as soon as possible. I’ll send further orders when I know what’s going on elsewhere.”

  That done, he already felt better and urged his force to the nearest crossroads, turning northeast to Podoska. He doubted Princess Edyta would put up with Dura causing trouble, so he hoped she’d been slowed down. He’d love to catch her.

  The weather remained terrible, with buckets of rain driven by an icy wind. Western Podoska was poor and the farms had been picked clean of hay by the enemy. At the first one, Lennart confirmed it was indeed Franca Dura who’d come this way.

  “Red hair and hard eyes, mounted on the most magnificent charger,” the farmer said. “Cleaned out all of us around here. You’ll need to go east to find food.”

  Lennart swore. That would slow him down even more and he didn’t need that. “I’ll go to Berolstein,” he muttered to himself. At the least, the princess might set him up with supplies, even if she wouldn’t offer more troops.

  He pressed a few coins into the farmer’s hand and ordered his troops onward.

  Princess Edyta wasn’t happy to see him, especially since he’d misplaced Trystan, as she saw it.

  “He’s fine,” Lennart protested. “Had quite an adventure in Tirovor. Even killed a fearsome Maladene in a duel.”

  “Idiotic.” Edyta sniffed. “I can’t believe you let him run off after some little princess.”

  “She’s not some little princess; she’s the ruler of Terragand.” Lennart sat down at the table beside her.

  “If she can ever get it back.” Edyta shook her head. “If I’d known you couldn’t finish Teodora by now, I would never have lent you my support.”

  Lennart breathed in and counted to ten. He couldn’t afford to antagonize this woman right now, unpleasant though she was. “No one expected Prince Kendryk’s murder,” he said softly. He still hated talking about it. “It’s thrown everything into upheaval.”

  “That’s for sure.” Princess Edyta fixed her gaze on Lennart. “What do you plan to do about it?”

  “I’ll take the fight to Terragand.” Lennart shrugged, hoping he didn’t betray the anxiety that constantly gnawed at him now. “I’ll stop Mattila there, then take on Teodora in Isenwald. Doesn’t matter where I do it, as long as I do it.”

  “True.” The princess still didn’t seem convinced. “What do you want from me?”

  “Troops,” Lennart said, even as the princess shook her head. “Supplies, if you can’t provide troops. I need to catch Franca Dura before she causes you any more trouble.” And before she can help Balduin overrun Heidenhof, he said to himself.

  Teodora

  Spring was here. The perfect time to finish off Kendryk’s family for good. Teodora would enjoy every moment of it. She rode out at the head of her Moraltan force, besides another two thousand Isenwald militia. Elektra had protested that nearly as much as Princess Viviane, but Teodora didn’t care.

  “This will be a good test for you.” She smiled sweetly. “One of a ruler’s greatest challenges is raising armies and the money needed to do that. If you can work it out somehow, I might consider you competent.”

  Elektra had scowled, but tossed her head. “I’ll show you, then. You can try to undermine me all you want, but it won’t work.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Teodora was pleased. The old Elektra would have burst into tears and wailed about being left undefended. The new one would hopefully raise taxes and recruit aggressively. She might yet learn how to become a competent empress.

  In spite of Teodora’s improved health, her doctor Sibyla had squawked and protested against the long journey through hostile territory. But Teodora had silenced her too, threatening to leave her behind in Isenwald if she didn’t stop complaining.

  Though Sibyla wasn’t easily intimidated, she’d agreed at last, muttering something about dark magic. Teodora had confided in Sibyla after the ritual, since it was impossible to hide her improved state of health from her own doctor. So Sibyla was coming along, though Teodora insisted she ride in a carriage so she couldn’t bother anyone with her complaints. No one was pushing Teodora around any longer.

  After the long winter, the forests of Isenwald were awash in shades of green, with not a rebellious peasant in sight. Though Teodora’s forces hadn’t found Braeden and Gwynneth, they’d run to ground a fair number of their accomplices, greatly diminishing the army Gwynneth had brought from Aquianus.

  Quite a few peasants had been killed as well, anyone fingered by informants as a member of the rebellion beheaded in their own village squares. That ought to take care of any troublemakers for a while. The beheadings had been Princess Viviane’s idea, probably hoping to impress Teodora with her brutality.

  Just before leaving, Teodora had received word that Mattila’s army had reached the borders of Oltena, but was being slowed in its progress by considerable resistance from the local population. Soldiers quartered in towns and villages were murdered in their beds; anyone straying from their column was dispatched even more horribly. Teodora felt nauseous after reading the accounts sent by her spies in Mattila’s army.

  Teodora was sure Lennart was behind it all, but it didn’t matter right now. Mattila would win through, and if she did, she could have the whole kingdom. In the meantime, Teodora intended to get to Heidenhof first, take the city like she had Kersenstadt, and oversee the execution of Edric Landrus personally. Once that man was dead and Lennart’s wife and daughter taken hostage, the war would be over.

  Teodora would prefer to take most of the credit for that. If she won Terragand without Mattila’s help, she’d give the kingdom to Elektra to rule as well. It would be preferable to have a strong Inferrara presence in Kronland.

  Teodora motioned to Havel Kolar, the captain who now led the Moraltans. “Have your scouts reached the Terragand border yet?” she asked. They’d been traveling for several days and it was still only forest endless leagues into the distance. The trees should thin out once they left Isenwald.

  “I expect word from them at any time,” Kolar said. Unlike his late superior—Janos Rykter—Kolar looked rather refined. Those who preferred softer features might even call him handsome. But Teodora found his voice too high-pitched and his look altogether somewhat rodent-like. In fact, she didn’t much like looking at him at all.

  “Has there been any word of trouble there?” Teodora asked. Isenwald was so quiet, she was becoming bored. A lively skirmish was what she needed now.

  “All appears to be confusion in Terragand,” Kolar said. “A civil war is already underway. Less than half the nobility seem in favor of Balduin Bernotas and the commonfolk are opposed to him. He holds the area around Heidenhof and some of the Velta River valley, but Duke Aidan Orland leads a large and powerful faction against him.”

  “Orland,” Teodora mused. “That’s another family overdue for wiping out. Do you know if Duke Aidan is in the field yet?”

  Kolar shrugged. “No one is certain. He seems to have spent the past months amassing troops on his lands, but no one is sure where he’s going next. Since he holds Kaltental, it’s possible he’ll sail down the river to relieve Heidenhof.”

  “That won’t happen,” Teodora said. “I want you to send scouts farther ahead and find out exactly where he is. We’ll destroy him before he gets to Heidenhof.”
>
  Kolar raised his eyebrows, but seemed to know better than to protest. It was obvious he found the idea ridiculous.

  “Do it now,” Teodora said flatly. “And let’s pick up the pace. The roads are good and supplies plentiful. There’s no reason we can’t cover thirty leagues a day. I want to be in Terragand in another day and I want Orland’s exact location right after that.”

  “Of course, Your Highness,” Kolar said, but she’d already turned her back.

  “Fool,” Teodora muttered under her breath. She blamed him for failing to find Braeden and Gwynneth and he seemed no more likely to take the initiative now. She’d been willing to sacrifice Janos Rykter, but now she missed him, with no one else to turn to, no one anywhere near as capable. She needed to look at the senior officers more closely. Perhaps she’d find someone better suited to the job.

  Braeden

  It was spring now, which made travel easier. The problem as Braeden saw it, was that travel would be easier for all kinds of armies, most of them hostile. If all went well, Princess Galena might delay Mattila, but Teodora was still in Isenwald. Braeden suspected she might not stay there long once she learned of the situation in Terragand. Braeden hoped they wouldn’t run into her, though he’d welcome a confrontation once he had Lennart at his back.

  His relief that Trisa had survived was intense. He’d written to her parents in Atlona and didn't want to imagine doing the same if she hadn’t pulled through. She’d promised to join them in Terragand after she recovered, though the doctor insisted that was still many months away.

  “You’ve probably heard of Duke Aidan Orland,” Braeden said to Devyn. The young prince insisted that Braeden ride at his side as his personal bodyguard. Considering how poorly he’d guarded Kendryk, Braeden felt both touched and guilty though he appreciated Devyn’s faith in him.

  “He’s always been a great ally of ours,” Devyn said, apparently happy to know something about Terragand’s inner workings unprompted by Gwynneth. “His son too, though he’s dead. Anton used to be his page and they had the most wonderful adventures together. I wish I had met him. Of course you knew him too, since he helped you rescue my father.”

  “I did,” Braeden said. “I wish he were still around.” He meant that, though reckoned it might add complications of a personal nature. He glanced at Stella, riding on his other side. As the little girl grew, her resemblance to Arian Orland became increasingly striking. Braeden wondered how many people were aware. Perhaps he and Gwynneth should have a serious conversation before meeting with the duke. “But the father will have to do, and ought to do well. He still owns one of the largest estates in Terragand and has thousands of troops at his disposal.”

  “I hope it’ll be enough.” Worry clouded Devyn’s handsome features. He was too young for this responsibility and it had never suited him like it did Maryna. “Tell me about Brynhild Mattila. I realize I must fight her at some point.”

  “With any luck, Lennart will finish her before you ever lay eyes on her.” Though Braeden had great faith in Lennart’s abilities, he couldn’t get rid of a niggling unease when he thought about him facing Mattila. By all accounts, he’d gotten lucky outside Richenbruck. If Mattila had stayed to fight, Braeden couldn’t imagine that going well. “But she’s tough and smart, a good opponent. Her main weakness is that she hates the Empress Teodora.”

  “Who doesn’t?” The disdain was clear in Devyn’s voice.

  “Good question.” Braeden chuckled. “But in Mattila’s case, it matters. Teodora can buy her off, but there’s no personal loyalty. Maybe someday you can make her a better offer.”

  “I don’t want a traitor working for me.” Devyn turned up his nose. “I want her defeated and then I’ll defeat Teodora too.”

  “Sometimes you have to take help where you can get it,” Braeden said, hoping he wouldn’t offend Devyn. It was still all too easy to do. “Remember the peasant rebellion? They weren’t natural allies, but your mother was smart enough to see her chance.”

  “And look how that worked out.” Devyn gnawed on his lower lip. “I don’t fault her for wanting to help. I wanted to as well once I heard of the corruption of the Isenwald nobility. But looking back, it was a bad idea.”

  “Maybe. But it was an idea that nearly succeeded. If Florian’s father hadn’t betrayed him, Teodora might be dead and the war over. Your mother took a big risk, but in my opinion, it was one worth taking.”

  “One that got Florian killed, and Trisa too, nearly.” Devyn shook his head. “No, from now on I shall order my mother to be more cautious.”

  Braeden couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Good luck with that.”

  To avoid Isenwald, they detoured into Podoska. Braeden worried about that route, but there was no other way, unless they wished to add another three hundred leagues to an already long journey. Their party was small and fast, traveling light and on horseback with no baggage train. Braeden wasn’t keen on meeting Princess Edyta and proposed sticking to Podoska’s far western border.

  But that didn’t work as planned. At least one force had already passed, stripping the meager landscape bare. “We might have to risk Isenwald,” Gwynneth said. “We can’t afford to go further east. It’s such a long way already.”

  “I don’t like the idea of Isenwald,” Braeden said, “but you might be right.” He hadn’t yet told Gwynneth, but a passing farmer delivered unsettling news. It sounded like Mattila had sent a cavalry regiment ahead to get to Terragand before the rest of the force. Braeden suspected he knew whose force it was and had no desire to face Franca Dura.

  They were still debating the best route to take into Isenwald when they received even stranger, but more welcome news. “Are you joining up with King Lennart at Berolstein?” an innkeeper asked as their exhausted party flooded his dining room one night, Gwynneth and the children looking as rough as anyone else.

  “Who? What?” Braeden put down his ale. “Isn’t Lennart still down south?”

  “No.” The innkeeper looked pleased to deliver such a juicy morsel of news. “He passed by here not three days ago. Likely he’s getting more troops from Princess Edyta.”

  Gwynneth’s eyebrows shot up in surprise when Braeden delivered the news, but then she smiled. “We ought to go to him,” she said. “I’m worried he’s not relieving Princess Galena, but he must have a good reason for being here. He’ll be of more help to our cause than Duke Orland.”

  “I agree,” Braeden said, happy they wouldn’t have to travel all the way across Terragand while dodging hostile troops. “Let’s go find him.”

  Elektra

  The business of ruling kept Elektra busy, but she had other work to occupy her too. Taking advantage of her status, she ordered her bedchamber moved to another wing of the castle. The room wasn’t as nice, but an elaborate false mantelpiece contained an entrance to the palace’s interior passageways.

  Elektra took her time familiarizing herself with them, and soon knew her way around better than she did in the palace proper. Eavesdropping from the various listening posts wasn’t as thrilling as she’d hoped, once she’d gotten over the excitement of doing it at first.

  While she claimed a headache, or the need to pray, or any other excuse she was able to come up with, Elektra excused herself early from most evening activities and observed them from elsewhere. The conversations of Isenwald’s aristocrats were more entertaining than in Elektra's presence, though extremely unpleasant.

  As Major Silberg had warned her, she was unpopular here, and that hadn’t changed in spite of working with Princess Viviane. That wasn’t going well, with the princess opposing Elektra’s proposals at every opportunity, and doing her best to turn everyone against her.

  But one evening, while spying on the Duke and Duchess of Lemberg, Elektra heard something far more interesting than criticisms of her hair and dresses. The pair had a large suite in the palace and often held their own little gatherings. Elektra generally found them dull, but the duchess had always made her uncomfortabl
e, so it seemed a good idea to keep track of whatever she might be doing.

  It had grown late, and most of the guests had gone. Elektra shivered and pulled her cloak close around her. It was cold in the passageways, besides being dark and unpleasant, but she had no better way to pass the time.

  She leaned against a wall, tired and bored, considering returning to her room and bed, when the duke said, “Please tell me those troops are near. Surely you’ve received word by now.”

  Elektra’s head jerked up and she pressed her eyes to the hole, hopefully well-hidden in gaudy wallpaper. She’d forgotten who remained with the duke and duchess, and had to twist her head to identify a man recently come to court. She didn't know his name, though she thought he was Floradian.

  Any talk of troops interested her. Since her mother had gone, Elektra spent much of her time puzzling over how to reinforce Isenwald’s army. Because of war everywhere, there weren’t many armies available, and those which were, were too expensive.

  “They’re coming,” the man said. Yes, that was a Floradian accent, a rather thick one in fact. “They’ve taken the river and should arrive here any day now.”

  “I need an exact date,” the duke said. “We need to finalize our plans.”

  Elektra licked her lips. She didn’t want to think what the plans might involve.

  The Floradian shrugged. “I received a report that they embarked in Bonnenruck eight days ago. In good weather it shouldn’t take over ten to arrive here.”

  “So I can count on them day after tomorrow?” the duke demanded.