A: Ch. 2.4

Kya had been so absorbed in her freedom from the depths of the mountain that she hadn’t looked at where she had exited or what surrounded her. General Hilt, the pompous prick, was standing just a dozen paces away from her in the dusty grass. The tunnel had taken her to the bottom of the mountain, as she had hoped, but it was apparently an obvious route down. Damn.

Luckily, there were no other guards save for the General himself and he wasn’t pointing his sword at her neck nor were there even irons in his hand. She supposed this was a good sign.

Kya pulled herself to her feet, still blinking into the blinding daylight her eyes were so unaccustomed to. She was filthy and bloody, but she hardly cared at this point. Secretly she was praying the General wouldn’t find her and she’d be able to slip away. It was illogical, of course. The General even threatened to hunt her down if she tried. But how in the Spirits’ names had he discovered where on the entire mountain she would escape through?

“You look terrible,” he noted.

Kya remained silent. Fuck face.  How clever he was.

“Intriguing,” the General said casually, pulling out an apple and taking a juicy bite.

Unconsciously, Kya licked her lips and the General smiled. She immediately cursed herself. “What is so intriguing?” she asked through gritted teeth, grudgingly falling into his ploy.

“That of all the methods of escape from the city you managed to choose the most difficult.” He smacked his lips as he sucked the juice that trickled from the corners of his mouth.

“No, the most difficult would be if I scaled the side of the mountain while carrying a rhetek on my back,” Kya growled, squaring her shoulders and stomping past him.

The General snorted with laughter and watched as she tried (and likely failed) to look strong and stoic. She was in pain, still hungry, and even more furious with this man than she thought possible.

“You still look terrible.”

She wouldn’t dignify that with a response. She continued to walk past him, looking at the vast grasslands that lay on the northern side of the mountain. The southern side was more of a desert. Winds from the south brought the heat and dust which typically settled over the city while the damp north allowed for more agriculture. The end of the long summer signified a respite for Nibheis. The brief autumn and likely long winter would bring a relief from the heat and the rains would moisten the otherwise dry country. The very northern borders of their country may get some snow, but for the most part the winter was their rainy season.

There were a few wispy spires of clouds that were collecting above them. They would float toward the mountain range, rise up, and disappear, incapable of making the journey across the giant mountains. They were miniscule in comparison to the hills and mountains in her country, especially the Rachio Mountains, but still enough to be quite impressive, especially with the almost complete lack of foliage. Everything around the naked mountains was short grass and shrubs.

“Your feet will be quite worse for wear if you walk all the way to your fortress without a pair of shoes. I’d expect them to be quite frozen up in those northern ever-snows of yours.”

Kya took a deep breath, trying to control the desire to claw out his neck.

“Unfortunately, those lovely men you call your soldiers took my shoes, gloves, jewelry, and most everything else they could get their hands on. I’ll have to make do until I reach the Capitol.”

The General shrugged and walked down a soft slope and out of sight for a moment.

“What is that?” Kya growled.

“It’s an ass, what does it look like?” the General asked. He was leading a brilliantly exquisite ebony Arabian stallion in one hand while the other was pulling along a quite reluctant donkey, complete with saddle and reins.

“What?” the General asked innocently. “You didn’t think I would make you walk, did you?”

“It’s degrading.”

“It’s fitting.”

They stared at each other for a moment, neither relenting until—

“How can you guarantee that you aren’t simply leading me into a trap?”

“I can’t.”

“How will I know you won’t kill me?”

“You won’t.”

“How will you know I’m not leading you into a trap?”

“You wouldn’t, if you value that pretty little neck of yours. Well, I assume it was pretty at some point. With all of the soot and oils melting off, you look quite absurd.”

With a disgusted sigh, she snatched the reins for the little donkey from him. He was still smiling. It was enough to make her skin crawl. The donkey bayed and dug his hooves in the ground. He tossed his head, honked his raspy throat and refused to move any farther.

“See? A stubborn ass. A match fashioned by the Gods.”

If the entire journey would be like this, one of them wouldn’t survive to the end. Gathering all of the courage she could muster, she flicked the donkey on the nose before awkwardly mounting it.

“We will be questioned if stopped. I’m still in Nibhein uniform.”

“Aye, you are, but you won’t be for long,” the General said, mounting his own glorious steed. “There’s a rest house a couple of leagues from here. You’ll have a change of clothes, including shoes, and a few packs of supplies that will hold us until we reach one of the border towns, probably Cauntin.”

Kya only nodded and tried to spur her donkey into a walk. He ignored her and tried to nose around for grass to nibble on. It took quite a sharp kick in the ribs to move the little ass. It reluctantly moved in line behind the large Arabian.

“Lylari the Belligerent, this day shall never end,” Kya grumbled under her breath. She saw the General twitch his head back, but he didn’t say anything.

A league or so into their journey of complete silence, Kya’s stomach clenched in anger and distress. It groaned mournfully and gurgled in demand of food. She clutched it and inwardly winced.

“Here,” the General said, tossing back a golden pear. “It should hold you for a few more hours.”

She took a bite and could have cried. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet. “Shouldn’t I be leading?”

“Do you know the route to the house?” General Hilt asked inquisitively, turning in his saddle to stare at him. “And beyond that I doubt you know the quickest route through Nibheis. Elivagar, perhaps, but not down here in the south.”

The pear disappeared much too quickly and Kya longingly sucked at her fingers, not even minding the dirt and blood.

“I’m assuming you didn’t make the journey here on your own,” General Noden stated. It wasn’t a question.

Kya paused. “No, I did not.”

“And your companions? Your horse?”

“They turned back north. We don’t anticipate survivors anymore.”

He seemed to accept the answer and continued to lead them down a game trail. Shame there wasn’t much game left. Much had been hunted and slaughtered for the never-ending hunger of Beinn. The large city needed much meat to satiate its people.

“Will I at least be given your name?” the General finally asked. “I could of course refer to you as ‘pasty’ but as I understand it, you northerners don’t like that name.”

Kya’s jaw was clenching tightly, but she didn’t see much use in lying.  Pasty was a crude name that the tanned and bronzed southerners called the people of her country. Their skin was so fair it looked like the paste created while making cheese.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t,” Kya said curtly.

“Well? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Kya glared at him. “I know your name. Everyone knows your name.”

“Ah, but do you know my first name?”

Kya opened her mouth, but quickly snapped it shut. No, she didn’t. It had taken nearly six months and just as many soldiers’ lives to discover that General ‘Hilt’ was actually General Noden.

The General smirked.  “See? It’s a fair trade. My true name is Damien Noden.”

“I think I preferred ‘Hilt’.”

“And yours?”

Kya took a deep breath and gazed out at the rolling grasses. “Kya.”

“Just Kya?”

“Just Kya.”

He turned in his saddle so he could see her better. “Not Kya the strategist? Highest ranking female in the Elivagan military for over a century?”

Kya’s mouth gaped open and she stupidly blinked. “But how did you--?”

“I listen, I watch, I learn. It wasn’t particularly hard to figure out. Your mannerisms alone give it away. You question things too easily and your chess skills match your attack styles.”

“They do not!” Kya growled, outraged.

“Aye, they do. You’re sloppy and rely on one or two strong pieces to attack while leaving gaping holes in your defense. You may think two steps ahead, but always for your own pieces, never the opponents. As soon as there is a deviation, you panic and retaliate too quickly.”

She stared at him. He seemed bored in his explanation, as if it was completely obvious.

“This is supposed to be your job. The fact that you cannot see your own flaws is the reason why you are so terrible at it.”

Fuming, Kya kicked her donkey up so she could ride alongside him, granted a few feet lower.

“And what gives you the impression you have supreme knowledge of all military strategy?”

He stared at her. “My side is winning.”

“For now!”

Hilt rolled his eyes and spurred his stallion into a faster trot which forced her cranky pony into a canter. “You should stop talking. You are only making yourself look worse.”

“You’re more loathsome than a louse.”

“Perhaps, but I’m still winning the war.” He flashed her a wicked smile. “We’re almost at the resting house. We’ll stop and gather a few things—you will wash the filth off of your skin—and then continue north. With any luck we’ll make it to Cauntin within the week.”

“Whatever you say, Hilt.”

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