Chapter IV
“That was
rather delightful. He didn’t even bat an eyelash. It was almost like he enjoyed
it.”
“I assumed
you would find a sense of… familiarity around him.”
“If only I
could have been in those eyes as he did it.”
“You miss
the chaos.”
“Wake up,” Hilt growled as he dumped his canteen of water on the unconscious girl.
She gasped
and coughed. As soon as she gathered enough sense as to where she was, she
grasped at her hip for her dagger – which Hilt took—and then at her shoulder
for her bow – which he also took. Kya tried to move, but winced as she pulled
at her leg.
“You
sprained it,” Hilt explained, sitting opposite her next to the fire. “It will
hurt, but it will mend rather quickly.”
“Why am I
not dead?” Kya demanded. Well now, so much for the pleasantries of
conversation.
“You should
thank those Spirits of yours for that blumbering idiot you assigned to me, Kya,
or should I say, princess.”
“I’m not a
princess,” Kya said quickly, but Hilt saw the astonishment in her eyes, as well
as the disappointment.
“Had that
fool Cress held his tongue a bit better, you would be in that land of unicorns
and fairies alongside your Spirits, or whatever your silly religion calls an
afterlife,” he said casually. He watched her visibly wince.
“The fact
that you are a princess changes everything, my little dove,” Hilt continued. “You
are much more valuable.”
“I told you,
I’m not a princess,” the girl said stubbornly.
“Come now,
lying does not become such a pretty little skáld. That water I threw on you is
pulling the dyes from your hair. I can see the red coming through.”
She flushed.
“I’m not. Not technically, as it is,”
Kya whispered, looking genuinely hurt. “King Yaro stripped me of my title soon
after he took the throne. It was his way of ensuring I could never steal it
back from him.”
“You can’t
just strip someone of their title as you please,” Hilt scoffed, though he was
quite intrigued. What had this little pipsqueak of a girl done to infuriate the
king?
“I am aware,”
Kya hissed, finally righting herself and observing the crude splint he had made
for her ankle. “You massacred that village,” Kya accused. “You killed everyone
in Vawl.”
And here he
had been so looking forward to her tale. Alas, these Northerners were so focused
on small events like mass murder and sprained ankles. “Now why would you think
that I did something like that?”
Kya’s eyes
narrowed over the fire. “They were innocent! They have done nothing to you!
Women, children, the elderly—these were farmers, not soldiers!” she cried.
Hilt stared
at her, fixing his emerald eyes on her. He waited and saw her shift
uncomfortably. He always had that effect on people. He loved it. “They were in
my way.”
“In your
way?” Kya screeched. “They were a small town, how could they be in your way?”
Hilt
shrugged and leaned back against the large trunk of the elm tree he’d made camp
around. “I needed to catch you. I assumed that Fierant would have given you
trouble and you would stop at the nearest village to make an exchange. I couldn’t
let that happen.”
“Fierant?”
Kya asked.
“My horse.”
Hilt reached back and patted the shoulder of the beautiful beast who was
lounging close by. He looked back at Kya and noticed she looked like a frozen
deer who has just heard the hunter snap a twig. Good. She would be easier to
control when frightened. Skittish creatures were easier to predict.
“You killed
all of them,” she finally said after a period of silence.
Hilt stared
at her again, this time he gave her a small smile. “Aye, I did.”
Silence
settled over their camp as Hilt gnawed on a piece of dried rabbit that he had taken
from his own pack. The pasties were idiots. They had carried his pack along
with all of its contents on the same little parade up north. Once he escaped,
he just grabbed it and ran. Speaking of…
“Did you
kill him?” Kya asked quietly.
“Kill who?”
Hilt asked innocently.
“Cress. Did
you kill him?”
Hilt swallowed
down the tough meat and stared over at her again. “He did not die by my hand.”
He inwardly smirked at the irony of it. “If he dies, it’s his own fault.”
“How did you
escape? We gave you enough stone salts to knock out a herd of rhetek for weeks!
And then you managed to get ahead of me and kill a whole village without a
horse…” What little color the girl had in her skin started to seep away,
leaving her with a ghastly pallor.
“For years I’ve
been training my body to create an immunity of sorts to Somnola. I have a
natural resistance as it is, but over time I have made it significantly
stronger. After that it was just a matter of escaping the shackles and making
my way north to where I expected you to go.”
“You were on
foot?”
“Is that so
shocking? You would have made better time had you done the same. Fierant truly
did slow you down.”
Hilt saw her
pout and look at the fire. She wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. Her transparent
skin did nothing to hide the bruises on her neck or the scrapes on her cheek.
She even had a cut just at her hairline. Was their skin made of parchment? He
hadn’t hit her that hard. At least she wasn’t crying. There was nothing more
obnoxious in this world than listening to a woman cry. That was why the women
were all killed first in Vawl.
“You really
are a terrible strategist. You should know better than to leave your prisoner
with worthless grunts.”
“I still
managed to trick you with the salts,” Kya grumbled, crossing her arms over her
chest.
“Aye, you
did. A minor slip on my part, which I quickly remedied. You on the other hand—“
“And yet you
allowed a little northern girl who apparently has no strategic skill slip you
those salts and steal both of your swords and your horse.”
Hilt growled
low and deep. He had underestimated her; that was a fact. “You will be
returning to my original plan, and you will follow it precisely. Otherwise you
will be bound in ropes in chains until we hit your precious Capital.”
“So we’re
still going there?” Kya asked warily.
“I still
need to get to your Fortress and you will still be the one to show me. I’m
certain now that you know the route.” Hilt grinned and bit into a crisp apple.
“You expect
me to walk?” Kya asked, motioning to her splinted leg.
“You’ll be
on Fierant. I’ll walk until I can purchase another horse, or find another for
you in the Capital. I assume you own one yourself…?”
Kya ignored
him. “You realize I have no intention of helping you. Not after what you’ve
done. I’ll be kicking and screaming the whole way.”
“Then I’ll
break both of your legs and rip out your tongue,” Hilt said calmly.
“The whole
country will recognize you. Everyone has heard rumors of your eyes,” she
insisted.
Hilt reached
back into his bag and pulled out a small box. “This contains special glass
lenses which I put directly on my eyes. They change the color to a muted blue.
My hair and skin are both light enough to pass in your country, especially
since I will be introduced as one from the border city of Cauntin. No, I
suppose I’ll be from Vawl, won’t I? There was a terrible attack on the town while
you were resting there and I came to your valiant rescue.” Hilt grinned at the
scowl on Kya’s face.
“You’ll be
hanged for what you did to that village,” Kya hissed, keeping her eyes on the
ground.
“All
Elivagar will know is that it was attacked by Nibheis. You tell them otherwise
and, well, you’ve seen what happens when people get in my way.” He gave her a
dangerous look before leaning back and looking up at the night sky. The clouds
obscured any sense of the stars and it was just starting to drizzle.
“You think
you can get away with it?”
“You sure do
ask many questions, pasty,” Hilt noted. “Did the King get that substitute for
your protection, or so he didn’t have to hear that annoying voice of yours?”
Kya glared
at him again before those pale eyes started darting around the campsite.
“Your bow,
arrows and dagger are all in my possession. You won’t be getting them back for
quite some time, at least not until we get to the Capital. I can’t have any more
mishaps, can I?”
“Spirits as
my witnesses, I promise you will die a most terrible death, General Hilt,” Kya whispered.
Hilt looked
at her and fought the urge to roll his eyes. “You’d be amazed how easily
promises are broken.”
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