A: Ch. 4.4

Fierant was exhausted after a week of hard riding with two people on his back so Kya and Hilt were forced to spend a day resting the poor stallion. Hilt was, of course, furious about it. The rains hit them like punch to the gut and they refused to desist. They were forced to huddle under a large beech tree and sit on the damp ground. The water streamed down in sheets and rivers, turning the roads to mud and the pastures to mush. Small streams now flooded and combined to form rivers and lakes, disguising a proper trail and the once numerous animals had scurried to their dens or treetops to hide.

Hungry, tired, and cranky, the pair tried desperately to keep a fire going, but it was futile. The wood around them was all soaked and what they were able to light with a spark was quickly extinguished from the grape-sized water droplets that filtered through the leaves.

“We need to find a cave of sorts, or build a better shelter,” Kya said through chattering teeth. Drenched and chilled to the bone, her long coat did little to insulate any warmth.

“It will take too long to find. I’ve been looking for days now as we traveled and I’ve seen nothing but forest in all directions. Any reasonable shelter surely has an occupant already.” Hilt grunted to his feet and started to gather fallen branches from nearby trees. He hoisted them up and tied them with bits of twine and slender willow branches to block most of the annoying rain.

Grateful, Kya gave him a rare smile, which quickly disappeared as she stared back at their pitiful attempt at a fire. She loved the rain, she truly did. But she typically enjoyed it from the comforts of her room, staring through the leaded glass windows. As a child she remembered playing in the rains all summer long, but as soon as winter began to creep up, it was much too cold to venture out. The only thing she could be grateful for was the lack of wind.

“Here,” Hilt said as he handed her a small, rolled up wool blanket. Kya took it gratefully and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Don’t you need it?” Kya asked, for the first time noticing his light linen shirt, leather chest plate, and little else.

“I’m fine,” Hilt grumbled, though Kya didn’t miss him shiver.

Gnawing at the few berries they had been able to scavenge, Kya was determined to distract her frigid mind. “So will you answer my question?” Kya asked.

Hilt didn’t seem in the mood for a guessing game. “What question?” He was rubbing his once again green eyes. Those strange lenses appeared to have irritated them greatly even a week past taking them out. His eyes were bloodshot and watery.

“What did Elivagar do to you?” Kya asked, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping the blanket ever tighter.

Hilt seemed too tired and irritated to toy with her as he normally did in response to that question. “Your armies killed my family.”

“Nibheis did the same to mine,” Kya countered. “Yet I don’t have the same vendetta against you.”

Hilt was rubbing at his temples now. “A large squadron of Elivagan soldiers entered my village when I was a boy and slaughtered everyone. My mother was killed saving my life. She had hidden me in a cellar with what few heirlooms we had moments before the massacre. She died lying over the cellar door. I spent three days in the dark, too horrified to push past her body and escape. It was the stench that finally got me out.”

Kya stared at him, her mouth slightly open.

“I learned later that it had been a military exercise ordered by King Odin himself. It was meant to be ‘practice’ so the young men could learn to kill those who wouldn’t fight back.”

“I…” Kya started, but her mind was whirring too much to complete a full thought let alone a sentence. She was struggling to put things together.

“I lived in Elivagar, you idiot,” Hilt scolded, suddenly angry with her. Kya flinched in response. “Your father used his own people as target practice.”

“I… I don’t believe it.” She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Her father would not do such a thing. She was certain.

“It was a miniscule village along the marshes to the west of the Capital, a place no one would miss. Great training for new recruits. If they can kill women and children from their own country, they’ll be ruthless in battle.”

Kya was angry now. “Yet you did that exact same thing to Vawl. They weren’t just killed, they were tortured and their corpses humiliated. Yet you stand here and chastise someone else for the same thing?”

Hilt glared at her. “I did not kill my own people.”

“Technically you did, if your claim to be a northerner is true.”

Hilt scoffed her off. “I lost any loyalty to this abysmal country that day. I made it a goal to destroy every single person who believed in this country, their leaders, or their hypocritical morals.”

Yet look who was talking! Kya was disgusted. For one, she was certain that her father made no such order and that Hilt was saying such things just to get a rise out of her, and secondly, even if it was true, he was the hypocrite!

“Then why haven’t you destroyed the country yet? With your spectacular skills as a fighter and military general, Elivagar should be nothing but rubble in the mud by now,” Kya said, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring at him.

“I still have things I need,” Hilt said casually, playing with the tinder again.

“Oh?” Kya asked unconvinced. She had half a mind to try and kill him again, right then. Hilt hadn’t put the ropes back on her wrists after Marigold, and she knew where her dagger was stored. Heck, her bow and quiver were sitting right next to him!

“You have information I need. Information that Nibheis does not have.”

Kya rolled her eyes. They had been down this road before. “That’s a specific answer.”

“History,” Hilt growled. “Nibheis has nothing about the country prior to the cleavage of Aisgarde. It took digging just to get the name of the first country. The rest is composed of convoluted lies fabricated by the priests and vicars in the far south. Any who actually believe such tales are fools.”

Things just weren’t fitting together. His past scarred by the death of his mother? The Third General actually a northerner? His lust for death was justifiable yet others were not? And then this desire to learn of the past?

“I don’t believe you,” Kya finally said, turning away from him.

“You don’t have to. All you have to do is keep those pasty lips shut and take me to the fortress,” Hilt barked, finally managing a spark great enough to light a few twigs and grass.

“I don’t appreciate being played a fool.”

Hilt finally rolled his eyes and settled back from his petite little fire. “And I don’t appreciate having a pasty as a guide through this bloody country, but I have no other way to get to your fortress. The only reason why you’re alive now is because you’re a skáld. If I could find another who was quieter, that reason would be gone. Do not tempt me into raiding your castle for a replacement,” Hilt warned.

Someone was quite cranky in the rain. And here she thought Hilt was warming up to her more. He hadn’t complained about her riding on Fierant in almost a week and he had given her the blanket to keep her warm. It was almost chivalrous. Then he goes on about how he wants to kill her. It was enough to exhaust anyone.

“So who are you loyal to? You certainly don’t seem fond of Nibheis,” Kya noted. She didn’t like silence, and Hilt insisted on it when they traveled. Stopping allowed her to finally break the taciturn journey.

“I dislike the religion, most of the attitudes of the men in the south, and the lack of true vegetation unless you go to the southern tip of the continent. I despise going that far south as it is because the religious zealots are intolerable. Other than that, Nibheis gave me a home, opportunity, food, and gold.”

“So you are loyal to no one?”

Hilt glanced at her. “I’m loyal to those who deserve it. I do not blindly follow the orders of a monarch.”

Again, Kya could taste the hypocrisy. “Yet you kneel to your own King.”

Hilt laughed, bold and sincere. It shocked Kya and she inched back, rather concerned. “In a sense, but that does not mean it is not earned. Loyalty and ignorant slavery are very different, Pasty.”

“You said you would stop calling me that,” Kya growled.

“And you said you would stop asking questions.”

“And when did I say that?” Kya asked.

Hilt glared at her, not amused. “Try and rest as best you can. I plan on moving as soon as the storm starts to break up. I don’t care if we have to ride through the night.” Hilt yawned and leaned back next to Fierant who was too tired to get up to nibble the fresh grass. The horse just craned his neck around to snatch a few blades. “We should reach your Capital in a day’s ride if we’re lucky.”

If they were lucky, a giant maple tree would crack and fall directly on Hilt’s head. But alas, Aru’mat the Baleful was not so kind. 

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