Fall of the Titan (The Desolate Empire Book 5)

by Christina Ochs

  “First,” the king said, “I wish to thank you, Duke. You completed your mission and more. I’m relieved you accompanied Natalya here in person. I don’t want to think what might have happened to her without your protection.”

  “It didn't seem right leaving her at your border with the kingdom at war,” Trystan said, “though it seems worse than I feared.”

  “Hard to believe it can be worse than war.” The king shook his head. “The de la Tours chose their moment well, certainly.”

  “We need to rescue your daughter,” Trystan said, hoping Zofya had put the king in the picture.

  “I don’t see how,” Gauvain said. “If we come anywhere near her, they’ll hurt her even more.” He swallowed. “Her finger came with a note saying her hand would be next, and so on.”

  Zofya whimpered and put her head in her hands.

  “I’ll kill them.” Natalya said it quietly, but when Trystan turned to look at her, determination burned in her eyes. Her tears had dried, and she was still pale, but she was back to her strong, resolute self.

  He was both sorry and relieved at the same time. “I’ll get your daughter, and then you can kill whoever is left.” Trystan smiled at her until she smiled back.

  “This is not your fight,” she said, “though as always, I appreciate your offer. Lennart must wonder where you are by now.”

  “Lennart can wait a little longer. Besides, he wouldn’t want his strongest ally compromised like this. I can guess pretty well what his orders would be if he knew about the situation.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Gauvain said. “But what can you do? I’m sure they are expecting me to act at some point, now they know Natalya is alive and in the kingdom. No doubt they’ll soon learn that she’s here with me.”

  “That’s a problem,” Trystan said. “That’s why we have to act quickly, and why I have to be the one to do it. I’m an outsider, and I’ll bet none of them know who I am, aside from a few rumors. If you can find out where the little girl is being held, I can get close. I can rescue her before they do anything else.” He turned to Natalya. “Then I’ll let you clean up.”

  “I know where she’s held,” Gauvain said. “In their family fortress at Tourane, surrounded by water and impregnable. Otherwise I would have attacked it long ago.”

  “So we must enter by unconventional means.” Trystan smiled. “Are they by chance hiring guards? That might be one way I can get in.”

  “I can find out,” Gauvain said, scribbling on a sheet of paper laying on a table at his elbow.

  “There might be another way,” Natalya said. “It’s risky, but also unexpected.”

  “I hate to send the duke into danger for something that isn’t his affair,” Queen Zofya put in, turning her brilliant eyes on Trystan. Even red-rimmed, they were still beautiful.

  Natalya chuckled. “Oh, the duke thrives on danger. Just wait until you hear how he freed me the first time. Though the second time makes a good story too.”

  Trystan couldn’t deny he enjoyed the prospect of another risky mission. While he doubted it would bring him any more material gain than rescuing Natalya already would, saving her daughter would be satisfying. And she’d be even more grateful. Trystan smiled. “Let’s make plans. We’ll want to act before the de la Tours can come up with their own scheme.”

  Lennart

  “I knew it!” Lennart said when the scout appeared. “I knew this was too easy. I can’t believe Dura got through.” But in the end, he could. Kindberg’s force wasn’t big, and while enthusiastic, it’d be like a flea on a battle charger’s rump to Dura’s army. “Which way is she headed?”

  “Straight to the main gate,” the scout said.

  Lennart motioned over his officers, gave the scout his instructions and sent him pelting toward the city.

  “Kalstrom?” an officer asked.

  “I hope so.” Lennart grimaced. He had no idea what conditions were inside the city and if he could expect help from there. He needed it from somewhere. But first he had to help Braeden, standing in Dura’s path. “Let’s go,” he said.

  “What about prisoners?” someone asked.

  “Have someone keep an eye on the Count of Hornfels.” Lennart still thought the man had to be lying. “But don’t worry about the rest.” They’d been disarmed and hopefully would disappear if left unsupervised. He doubted they’d want to get back into the fight after the thrashing he’d just given them. He needed every last trooper and dragoon with him now.

  It took a long time to get around the city and Lennart saw from a distance that the battle was on. A report came from Destler that he'd captured Balduin Bernotas right before he'd reached the shelter of Dura’s army.

  “Thank the gods for that,” Lennart murmured. Now he needed to make sure she didn’t get him back.

  Braeden’s forces were hard-pressed, outnumbered and outarmored by the enemy. Their only good fortune was that the rain made firearms unreliable, making the cuirassier’s typical pistols not as useful as usual.

  “Let’s get ‘em before they see us,” Lennart said, relishing the thought of falling on Dura’s rear, payback for her similar action at Richenbruck.

  He touched Broga’s flanks with the spurs, and the beast didn’t need to be told twice. He bounded across the trampled, muddy grass and right into the rear of Dura’s force.

  Since it was a surprise, Lennart tried pistols first, and fortunately, one worked. He’d come up close on an enemy trooper and shot him right in the backplate. He toppled from his horse and Lennart drove forward, pulling out two swords. The tightly packed troops weren't able to maneuver and Lennart’s force did considerable damage before the enemy rallied.

  “Now you know what it feels like,” he said to himself, but also to Dura who might just now be hearing of what was going on in her rear.

  But her officers were good, and it didn’t take long before the hindmost units pivoted. Time to get out of the way.

  “Fall back and spread out,” Lennart shouted.

  His ragged squadrons had little hope against the flawless ranks now coming toward them. He yanked a reluctant Broga around and hurried back to his guards, who hadn’t gone too far, though the captain gave him a look, meaning he’d once again wandered off on his own.

  Lennart’s force split off into two wings, forcing the enemy to break ranks. Their officers shouted at them to stay together, but it was too late.

  Lennart wheeled around again and took on a ragged flank. He cut down two troopers before the rest drew closer together.

  They were still too many and too strong, but this might work for a while. He hoped Braeden was having the same luck at the front. A shame that Dura would be there, since Lennart would have preferred to face her right now. Perhaps she’d learn he was out here and come look for him.

  That put a smile on his face, and he led his squadron around in another flanking maneuver, breaking up the enemy. He didn't kill many of them, but they weren’t getting many of his either. Now he needed a bit of luck.

  Dura’s force spread out so thin Lennart saw his own on the other side. And then he spotted her. That beautiful horse and the orange plume.

  He didn’t know where Braeden was and hoped she hadn’t killed him. She'd led her own forces back around, likely in an attempt to regroup. Lennart shouted and waved his sword, hoping she recognized him. But she was fixed on her task, shouting and waving her own sword, rallying her troops.

  “Maybe later,” Lennart murmured, then trotted around until he found an adjutant. Somehow he’d lost his suite again. “Find Count Terris,” he said. “He shouldn’t be far away. Tell him we’ll stay spread out between Dura and the city.” No way would he let her get a chance at the gates.

  By the time this was done, he’d lost track of Dura herself. Her troops drew back and the rain fell harder. Lennart wished he could get closer, but realized he needed to play for time. Hopefully it wouldn’t be much longer now.

  At last he heard the marching feet and th
e drums. In a moment’s confusion, he feared Mattila had arrived, but then realized it must be General Kalstrom, bringing troops from the city. It was hard to say yet how many, but it was better than what he had right now, not to mention every last one of them would be a sturdy Estenorian.

  Lennart cast a regretful glance in Dura’s direction and rode off to meet his general.

  “Need help, Your Highness?” Dolf Kalstrom asked with a laugh.

  “Wish I'd done a better job rescuing you.”

  “All that matters is that you did, and now I can help you in turn,” Kalstrom said, nodding toward rank upon rank of musketeers behind him. “They’re under strict orders to keep their powder dry. Shall we try it out?”

  “Be my guest,” Lennart said. “I’ll just get out of the way.” In the distance, he saw Braeden and Prince Devyn approaching, so he headed their way. “It’s all under control now,” he said. “Dura won’t get far if she can’t use her pistols.”

  “So it’s over,” Devyn said, looking disappointed.

  “Not quite,” Lennart said. “The castle remains besieged. Do you and Count Terris want to take care of that?”

  Devyn’s shining eyes gave him his answer.

  Elektra

  Elektra headed south now, toward Oltena, leaving Rolf and Elysa’s cabin on a trail they’d told her would be safe. She was heavier-laden, but in a good way, carrying a brace of pistols with plenty of shot and powder. They were old matchlocks, but looked to be in excellent condition.

  Elysa had also packed a bag of food, enough to last for days, it looked like. Both she and Rolf refused any kind of payment, but Elektra left two gold coins from the Maximus’s purse on their table when they weren’t looking.

  At first, she couldn’t imagine why they trusted her, but then Rolf told her he’d heard the story of the fight in the woods and how she’d saved Braeden Terris’s life.

  The tale had become somewhat embellished, with Elektra taking on Janos Rykter hand-to-hand, besting him in a wild wrestling match, but the important part was that it made Elektra sound like a hero.

  She really wasn’t, but in this case, it helped to have the local population believing it. Once she explained why she’d had to return to her mother during the rebellion, Rolf and Elysa were even more impressed.

  “You’re so strong and capable, no wonder King Lennart wants you as an ally,” Elysa said, her eyes wide.

  “Amazing, for such a fine young lady,” Rolf added approvingly.

  “The gods give me strength,” Elektra said, deciding to leave it at that. “And they give me help at the right time. Like you two.” She smiled. “I thank you for the supplies and the information.” She shuddered, picturing what she might have run into if she’d gone to Terragand.

  Elektra had stayed longer than she’d planned to with Rolf and Elysa, though it was hard to say goodbye to her new friends. She even got to meet the baby, little Rolfie, though he screamed the moment she held him. She wished she could do more for them, and hoped she wasn’t causing them any trouble by having been there.

  By the time she was back on the road, it was midafternoon and she still had far to go. Going south, the woods became deeper and the population more sparse. Rolf had assured her it was the Isenwald way for temples to take in travelers, so once night came, Elektra resolved to stay at the next one she found. The tiny wooden buildings staffed by lone, aging clerics appeared in small clearings every ten leagues or so.

  The light became so dim, Elektra could barely make out the outlines of the little temple. After dismounting, she walked to the door and knocked. It was quiet, but a little light escaped from chinks in the wooden walls. A tiny old woman opened the door, looking up at Elektra.

  “I was hoping I might spend the night,” Elektra said. “I’ll make a donation, of course.”

  “Not needed.” The priestess beckoned her in. “I’m Mother Nisa, and I know who you are.” She shuffled off, into the middle of the temple. The dim light revealed four rough icons over a plain wooden altar. Quadrene.

  Elektra breathed in deeply, relieved. “How do you know who I am?”

  “Word travels fast through these woods and Rolf the Smith knows everyone.” The priestess led her into a little room beyond the altar, her living quarters.

  Elektra put down her bundles and sat at the table. Mother Nisa lived in one little room, a tiny bed in the corner. Elektra wondered where travelers stayed, until she caught sight of another tiny room holding a bed behind a half-drawn curtain.

  “I imagine Elysa fed you well, so we’ll eat light tonight.” The priestess brought black bread and a hunk of cheese.

  “That’s fine.” Elektra smiled. She had a few pastries Elysa had packed to share afterward. “I’m trying to get to Oltena as quickly as possible.”

  “Why?” Nisa shook her head. “You should stay and fight here. As the chosen one, it is your right to rule this kingdom.”

  Elektra gasped. “Chosen one? I’m certainly not.”

  “Well…” The priestess settled into the chair across from her. “Prince Kendryk is dead, so now it must be you.”

  Elektra had to laugh. “I doubt it. It’s more likely to be one of his children, or even King Lennart.”

  “Not a foreigner.”

  “I am a foreigner.”

  “Not like Lennart. Not from across the water, speaking a different language.” Nisa’s deep-set eyes bored into Elektra’s. “You’re descended from Teodora the Blessed. We’d thought that line corrupted, but you’ve given us hope.”

  “I have done little good so far,” Elektra said.

  “You’ve done plenty, and you’ll do more.” The priestess sighed. “It’s likely better you don’t stay here, since we aren't able to help you. If the commonfolk weren’t so frightened after the rebellion, they might give you an army. But not right now.”

  “I’m sure Lennart will give me one.” Elektra hoped that was true.

  “Might be. Hope you can find him.”

  Elektra left the next morning, feeling odd. It had never occurred to her she might be the ruler from the prophecy, much less that anyone else might think so. Edric had been certain she wasn’t, and based on what she knew of the Scrolls, she agreed. It had seemed clear at the time; the chosen one was a prince, and a Kronland ruler.

  Fortunately, the priests of the next two temples she stayed at made no strange pronouncements, and on the third day she crossed into Oltena.

  The first travelers she came across told her the entire kingdom was at war. Lennart’s army, led by a General Lofbrok, along with the commonfolk, were battling Mattila’s force.

  “I need to find Lofbrok,” Elektra said. “Any idea where he is?”

  The man shook his head. “Hard to say. Head toward Princess Galena’s palace. She still holds it, and she’ll know where to find him.”

  Elektra left in a hurry and soon ran into a patrol.

  “Who are you with?” the sergeant in charge asked as his troops surrounded her.

  Elektra wasn’t sure how to answer, so she stated her name and hoped for the best.

  The sergeant laughed. “What a stroke of luck. The general will want to see you straight off.”

  “General?” Elektra held her breath, hoping to hear an Estenorian name.

  “The only one who matters here. Brynhild Mattila.” The sergeant grabbed her horse’s reins and led her down the road.

  Lennart

  Lennart rode Broga into the city, straight to the Maximus’s palace and hurried up the stairs. He was soaked, but ignored the footman standing ready to take his cloak and hat.

  Edric was there and led Lennart down the corridor. “We need to talk, Your Highness, but later. Your family is waiting for you.”

  Lennart broke into a run as he saw them at the end of the corridor. Raysa’s tall, slim figure was bent over a small, stout one. Lennart paused as he drew near and grinned at Kataryna’s wobbly steps. But then he refused to wait any longer and ran toward her, scooping the little girl into one a
rm and putting the other around his wife.

  He kissed Raysa long and hard, then smiled down at her. “Hello” he said.

  Raysa was smiling and wiping moisture from her face. He wasn’t sure if it had come from his wet beard, or if she was crying. “Hello.” She took him by the hand. “Come on. Let’s get you dried off and fed.”

  Kataryna was squawking and squirming in his arms, so he put her down. She likely didn’t remember him and he’d let his beard grow huge in the past months. “Can she walk by herself?” He held the little girl’s hand as she swayed.

  “Not quite, though she does well enough if you help her.”

  “I’ll get her going on her own while I’m here.” That would be an enjoyable way to pass the time. “Maybe even running.”

  Raysa picked up Kataryna so they could move faster, and the three of them hurried back to the rooms Lennart had never stopped thinking about these past months.

  Once the door was shut behind him, he shed all of his outer clothes and dropped into a chair placed in front of an inviting fire.

  Raysa handed Kataryna off to a nurse and gave quiet orders. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a servant scoop up his wet things , while Raysa brought a blanket of soft blue wool to wrap around his shoulders. “You chose a terrible day for a battle.”

  “The weather helped us,” Lennart said, pulling her down onto his knee. “Wet powder isn’t good for anyone, but it nearly disabled Dura’s Cuirassiers.”

  “Thank the gods for that.” Raysa wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned against him, but got up a moment later when someone arrived bearing food. The servant placed it on a small table and pulled it right in front of Lennart.

  “Looks like you were ready for me.” Lennart dug in, and grinned at Raysa as she sat down on the hearth across from him. A nurse brought Kataryna and put her on the floor between them where she played with a little wooden horse.