Kya pulled
the ivory comb through her hair as she gazed around the small room. A cozy bed
covered in a plump quilt and squishy pillows, a wardrobe filled with a
collection of slightly worn pieces, and the washbasin with water set upon a
small vanity. She had cleaned off the oils and powder of her face—though she
left the stain in her hair—and stripped off the ruined military uniform. Kya
couldn’t help but feel guilty for discarding it after all her country went
through just to obtain it.
Her hair
finally free of knots (and grass, and twigs, and leaves), Kya looked over the
outfit which had been tucked neatly inside the wardrobe. Oddly, it was the only
set of female clothes. It wasn’t a dress, as she had expected. It was a long
emerald traveling coat with full sleeves and a single silver clasp. Beneath was
a pair of close fitting slacks which tucked into a pair of riding boots.
It felt
strange—she’d only ever worn gowns or skirts unless she was riding. She ended
up accepting that the coat was meant to end above the knee but nearly touched
the ground on her. At least she wouldn’t have to ride side-saddle for the rest
of the journey, and it would be significantly more comfortable once they made
it across the border.
Kya left the
small bedroom and into the only other room in the rest house. Hilt was there,
stuffing the last few satchels of dried fruit and herbs and kindle into the two
packs. He glanced up and grunted.
“You really
are a pasty.”
“I thought
you agreed not to call me that,” Kya growled.
“It’s not a
name, it’s a description.”
Asshole.
Hilt threw a
pack to Kya’s feet and threw his own over his shoulder. “There’s some dried
meat in there. Chew on that until we stop for the night. I’ll hunt then.”
Kya picked
up the pack and looked around the small room, still confused. It wasn’t like
any of the homes in the city, and the small little hut was completely secluded;
no barn, just a small fireplace, a single bedroom. It was also made out of
cobbled stonework and wood, unlike the carved stone of the city. It just
seemed… out of place.
“Come on,
we’re leaving,” Hilt grunted, pushing past her and out to where the stallion
and donkey were grazing the dried out grass.
“What is
this exactly?” Kya asked, motioning toward the house as Hilt tacked the horse.
“A rest house,
as I told you.”
“Why would
you have a rest house so close to the city?”
Hilt looked
tired of answering questions and grunted without responding.
Someone was
cranky. She couldn’t imagine he was worse since she was ready to collapse
again. The soft rocking from the ride lulled her to sleep, but to ride after
going so long without sleep made this almost intolerable. She pulled herself up
on the donkey and tried to focus on chewing the practically leathered bits of
meat. It was tough and tasteless.
“Why do you want to go to the Fortress?” Kya asked as the pair continued down a game trail,
constantly moving North through the grassy plains.
“Because.”
“What are
you looking for?”
“Information.”
This was
growing tiring. “What for?”
Hilt turned
in his saddle and stared at Kya, his face perfectly stoic. “For knowledge.”
Kya glared
at him. “Are you planning to kill the King?”
“King Yaro?
No. He’s a pathetic whelp and he’ll meet his end soon enough, likely without my
intervention.”
Kya opened
her mouth to argue, but Hilt interrupted.
“Don’t try
to defend him. You know better than I what type of man he is. How many bastards
has he made? A couple dozen?”
“How many
women he has lain with does not indicate his character as a ki—“
“No, it
indicates that he’s selfish and greedy and that he has absolutely no intention
of helping his people. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already fled to your
precious little fortress in the north before the winter comes. The last attack
on the Ylid Sea destroyed most of your naval fleet and he’s too much of a
coward to rebuild and attack, or to rightfully surrender and end anymore
bloodshed.”
Kya stared
at the back of Hilt’s head, her mouth gaping. She couldn’t argue. Her king was
worthless. Yaro always had been since he received the throne over ten years
prior. He drank and ate and slept with any woman he could get his greedy little
hands on. It was… difficult to be around him, especially for Kya. The other
militants were male and constantly turned a blind eye.
“Nothing to
say, hm?” Hilt chirped, looking pleased with himself. “Elivagar would be better
off under Nibhein rule. There would be gold and work and education.”
“You mean
slave labor,” Kya growled.
“Nibheis has
no intention of rounding up the northerners and sending them to work as
slaves.”
“That’s what
you have been doing with each segment you capture.”
“And what
about the border towns? They are prospering. Northerners and southerners mingle
together and trade and learn from one another. That will be the entire
continent once this bloody war is over and that flea of a man you call King is
dead.”
“Tens if not
hundreds of thousands of lives will be lost in the process.”
“Fewer
mouths to feed,” Hilt growled, tapping his stallion who pushed forward at an
aggressive trot.
“How can you
be so cruel?” Kya asked, disgusted as she tried to ride up alongside him, her
donkey grumbling reluctantly.
“Don’t act
so innocent, pasty. Your armies have destroyed hundreds of villages and cities.
They’ve even attacked their own.”
“We have
not!” Kya insisted.
“Oh?” Hilt
asked, pulling his horse to a stop so he could glare at her properly. “As you have
been told of every attack in your country for the past hundred years? Your naïveté
disgusts me. You’ve been a strategist for what, two years? You know nothing.
How you got that title is beyond me.”
“As you have
noted before,” Kya growled, her teeth grinding together.
“Perhaps you
should look into your own country’s history before you chastise the morality of
mine.”
Steaming
with fury, Hilt kicked his horse and the stallion stormed away at a full gallop,
leaving Kya to push her now very annoyed donkey to catch up.
After Kya
finally caught up (it took a good half hour of hard riding), the two traveled
in silence until the sun slowly sank beyond the horizon and the purple and
orange sky slowly changed to indigo and black. Hilt refused to stop until it
was too dark to see your hand in front of your face.
Finally, the
horse and donkey were allowed to graze and Hilt quickly made a small fire of
twigs and shrubs. Kya winced as she walked toward the fire, her legs throbbing
and her head swimming with exhaustion. She was shocked (and rather proud) that
she hadn’t fallen off during the ride, but now her body was shutting down.
Kya sat down
next to the fire, opposite Hilt, and laid back on her pack, her eyes shutting
immediately. She heard the General say something, but her mind was beyond
comprehension. Her body relaxed, despite how horribly hard the ground was, and
she fell asleep within moments.
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