Hyleth dreamed.
Two men approached one another in a darkened forest clearing. The world around them was unfocused and blurry. It was cool, after full dark, and the clearing was silent. He looked down and saw nothing but the leaf-strewn ground. He had no body in this place, although it felt as real to him as the waking world.
“Ha’tar,” one of the men said, drawing Hyleth’s attention. “Where are we?”
It couldn’t be the Ha’tar, could it? The men were similar enough in build and complexion they could have been brothers. The one who spoke was just a hair shorter, though he still would have towered over an average man. He wore a leather breastplate over a teal shirt and had a massive trident strapped across his back. The other wore matching armor over crimson and carried a broadsword.
“Eridonta,” the one called Ha’tar replied. “Don’t you recognize it? There is snow to the north, but it hasn’t moved this far south just yet.”
The other shrugged. “One world looks much the same to me as another,” he said. “Why have you called me here?”
“The winter,” Ha’tar said. “This world is caught in the grip of an unnatural winter. It is creeping across everything, in defiance of natural laws.”
The other man nodded. “I see. What does it have to do with me?”
“Come now, Gundaar,” Ha’tar said. “Surely you can feel what I have felt. Something is happening here. Dithregar has vanished. Kina claims she has not brought this snow. Tolath is rousing the guardians as we speak. They too have felt something stirring on this world.”
“It feels like Elistar,” Gundaar said. His voice was a whisper, filled with dawning horror. “Is it him? Has Altrimus returned to plague us?”
“Not directly,” Ha’tar replied. “At least, not that we can tell. Something else is happening. It may have something to do with him, but for now he remains a mystery.”
Both men regarded each other in the dark for a moment. Somewhere nearby, a night bird issued a shrill call. Hyleth shivered. The air was growing colder, he realized. What am I seeing? If this was really Ha’tar and Gundaar, gods of war and sea, they were speaking of things beyond his comprehension. Tolath was god of thunder. He recognized some of the other names but who was Altrimus? Who or what was Elistar?
“Who is the mortal?” Gundaar asked, waving his hand in Hyleth’s direction. “I can see him there, though I imagine he isn’t here physically.”
“Unimportant,” Ha’tar said. “I have brought along a mortal to witness what we’re discussing. His world is threatened. They will need to rise to the occasion.”
What threatens us? He tried to say, and found he had no voice. The gods continued speaking, moving on from his presence. So clearly, he wasn’t invited to participate, merely to observe and glean what he could.
“What do you want from me?” Gundaar asked.
“Nothing yet,” Ha’tar replied. “Just be ready for now. Something is happening in the west and the Pillar of the Sky is trembling. The time may come when we have to fight.”
“The Pillar?” Gundaar said. “That could mean…”
“I know,” Ha’tar said. “That’s why I need you to be ready. I’m going to speak to some of the others. Maybe it won’t come to a full-scale war, maybe it will. It is important either way that we’re prepared. The centuries have made us soft.”
“Speak for yourself,” Gundaar scoffed. “I’m as ready to fight as I’ve ever been. Send to me if you have need. I will honor my word.” Then Gundaar was gone. He simply vanished. Ha’tar stood facing the empty space for a moment longer and then regarded Hyleth.
“Remember what you can,” the god of war said. “Altrimus, the Pillar of the Sky, everything you can when you wake. Your world is in great danger.”
Hyleth woke in an instant, fully alert. Words, nebulous memories of his dream floated in his head. He scrambled out of bed and fumbled around in his room, stumbling over chests and discarded clothes. He found his desk, still littered with dispatches and reports from his subordinates. By the flickering light of his slowly dying hearth, he dipped a pen in ink and wrote on the back of a piece of paper. Altrimus. Pillar of the Sky. Then he paused to consider. There was something else, something just at the edge of his recollection. It came to him; a sudden flash of insight and he wrote again. Something stirs in Shandar.
Then it was gone, all but a vague sense of his dream. Had he really seen two gods conversing, or was that the unconscious babbling of his mind? Yawning, he left his scribbled paper to dry and went back to bed. There would be time to decide in the morning what to make of his dreams.
*
General Meershen Toiran was not a man accustomed to fear. In a lifetime of service to Auroth, he rarely found himself afraid or uncertain. A good soldier, he figured, always knew his place in the world. It was one of the things that had drawn him to the army during his youth. Even as an officer, climbing the ranks and taking on more and more responsibility, he’d always felt a sense of surety, or purpose. Soldiers fought, they protected, they patrolled and lent their skills to the people in times of peace. His role was to lead them, train them, command them. And for the first time in his memory, he wasn’t sure how to do that. The uncertainty made him afraid.
He sat across from King Leiton in the younger man’s personal dining room. Like his father before, Leiton preferred to conduct even official business in his own space. He typically used the Nest’s public rooms only for the most auspicious things unless he needed a larger space to host his gathering. Today, only the two of them were meeting at breakfast. Toiran wondered if he knew how much these meetings flouted tradition. Aurothian kings before old Tharon had been men of deep devotion to ceremony.
“How does the army fare, General?” Leiton asked. He always started with a vague question about the army. Toiran smiled. So like his father.
“Which part, Your Majesty?” Toiran replied. “Yours is one of the largest armies in the world. It is spread out over most of the country.”
“Of course,” Leiton said. He didn’t look up from his breakfast, or rather the stack of reports beside his mostly untouched breakfast, but Toiran saw the ghost of a smile on his lips. “How are they faring with food and supplies?”
“We’re doing well across the board,” Toiran replied. “I believe my latest report is in that pile there. We’ve got plenty of supplies, at least for the time being. With no way of knowing how long this winter will hang on, I can’t predict very far ahead.”
“And morale?” Leiton asked. “I find that morale is often more critical to an army’s success than its supplies.”
“Wise words,” Toiran replied. They were his own words, actually. Though he didn’t know when Leiton may have heard them. He’d said the exact same thing to King Tharon once. “Morale is somewhat more difficult to pin down. The men will do as they are told, but there is a large amount of uncertainty among them. They are frightened by it.”
“We’re all frightened, General,” Leiton said. Finally, he looked up and met Toiran’s eyes. He really does look like his father, Toiran thought. Leiton was somewhat more bookish than Tharon, but just now, with the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders, Leiton looked very much like the old king. He had the same dark hair and dark green eyes, the same tanned complexion. Tharon was broader, sturdier in his build, but Leiton had a deeper kind of strength about him. Tall and lithe, slender of frame, he was built like his mother and sister. Despite that, Toiran had to remind himself that he was looking at his old friend’s son, and not Tharon himself.
“What can I do to help, Your Majesty?”
“Polith has sent to us for aid,” Leiton said. “I expected they would sooner or later and I’m going to send them what supplies I can spare. In exchange, I’m hoping for information. I understand you maintain a contact there?”
“Gorisus Archin,” Toiran replied. “He’s an old friend. Actually, he’s Milendra’s uncle. What do you want with him?”
“I just want to know if they have any more knowledge about this strange winter than we do,” Leiton said. “If not, then this is purely a humanitarian mission. If they do, then we’ll call it a trade. Their information for our supplies. But I want to send Hyleth.”
“I’ll speak to Milendra,” Toiran said, though he was uneasy with the idea of his wife going on a mission. It was really more like a vacation, though. She would introduce Hyleth to her uncle and the rest would be up to him. “I’m sure she won’t mind, provided the King is paying for her passage and that of the children.”
“Naturally,” Leiton said, finally looking up. The hint of a smile widened into a grin. “I’m also hoping she can teach Hyleth something about manners and diplomacy. I want to find something more for him to do.”
“I understand,” Toiran said. “What do you need from me? If you’re sending my wife away with Hyleth, I imagine that means there’s something else.”
“Something very important,” Leiton said. He handed the paper on top of his stack to Toiran. “I think you’ll want to see to this yourself.”
*
Leiton was still studying when Elisara slipped into his dining room a half hour later. He barely noticed as she sat opposite him and nearly leaped through the roof when she cleared her throat to get his attention. Heart pounding in his chest, he leveled a glare at her, but the Princess only flashed him a girlish smile and settled into her seat.
“You called for me, Your Highness?” she said sweetly. Leiton groaned in a manner ill-befitting a king. She only insisted on using honorifics to tease him. It was as bad as having Hyleth around. He’s my next meeting, Leiton realized. Why did I do this to myself? I should have led with him and brought General Toiran in to space these two out. A lesson learned, he supposed, on the importance of smart scheduling.
“I want you to go to Calchindar,” he said, and braced himself for her wrath. It was, perhaps, a foolish thing for the King of Auroth to cringe before his sister, but Leiton could remember very well the way she kicked and scratched when he upset her as a child. To his immediate shock, she just cocked her head and gave him a curious look.
“For what?” she asked.
“To represent me,” he replied. “They need to know that I haven’t forgotten them, that I am on the throne now, and that we have supplies enough to last the winter.”
“Is it really necessary for me to make that trip?” she asked. “Of course, you can’t go during this crisis but surely Artin or one of the other nobles can go in your place.”
“I’m sending Artin with you,” Leiton said. “He’ll be there to help if there’s any…let’s say delicate diplomacy that arises. I want you to go as a sign of good faith. Sending my sister is much better than just sending an old nobleman.”
Elisara tapped her chin and then nodded. “Alright,” she said. “That makes sense to me. When do we leave?” Leiton narrowed his eyes suspiciously but couldn’t decide why her quick agreement should surprise him. I treat her like she’s still a little girl, he thought. She’s grown up, that’s all. I just haven’t noticed it.
“A few days,” he said. “Give Artin some time to prepare everything. I’ll have him send you his itinerary this afternoon.”
“Good,” she said. “And do I get to pick my own company of guards?”
There it is, Leiton thought. That’s why she agreed so fast. He shook his head. “I can’t send Hyleth with you,” he said. “I have a different mission for him. One that’s critical to the throne.”
“Maybe I was thinking of someone else,” Elisara said, feigning disinterest. “There are many capable men among the armies, you know.”
“Elie,” Leiton said, cutting her off. “I appreciate your caution about the whole thing, but I’ve noticed you creeping back into your room in the middle of the night, or Hyleth tip-toeing back to his rooms in the early mornings. The rest of the castle might not be aware of it, but I am. Please don’t take me for a fool.”
“Alright,” she said. “I’ll let Artin choose the guards. This mission better not be a ploy to marry me off to some southern nobleman to increase our ties to Calchindar.”
Leiton sat back in his chair, staring at her. That hadn’t even occurred to him. “That’s a brilliant idea,” he said. “Unfortunately, it’s not why I’m sending you. Maybe next summer, when you’ve had time to forget that you came up with it.” Elisara rolled her eyes at him. “Now, could you send your secret lover in, so I can give him his mission and get back to my breakfast?”
Elisara left, pausing to give him an affectionate peck on the cheek as she passed. A few moments later, Hyleth stepped into the room and sat down, fidgeting. So, she told you I know about your little dalliance, did she? Leiton made it a point to keep his eyes down, letting his brother sweat in the silence that stretched out between them.
“Look, Leiton,” Hyleth said, at last.
“Oh!” Leiton said, looking up at him. “Hyleth, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come in.”
“You…wait, what?”
“Sorry, I have a lot on my plate right now,” Leiton said, pointing to the stack of reports in front of him. In truth, he’d read through them all at least once. Only one of them was troubling him at the moment. The one on top, written in a sleek, flowing hand and addressed to Leiton himself. “I didn’t realize you were already here.”
“Oh.” Hyleth relaxed in his seat. “That’s alright. Elisara said you were ready for me.”
“Hm,” Leiton said. “Did she tell you that just now or was it before you snuck out of her room last night?” Hyleth went red all over, darker than the Red Eagle of Auroth. He stiffened in his chair and Leiton had to clench his jaw not to burst out laughing. The larger man stammered something, sputtering, trying to string words together into a sentence that eluded him.
Leiton reached across the table and patted him on the shoulder. “Relax, brother,” the king said. “I’m just having a bit of fun with you.” Hyleth’s eyes widened further, until Leiton thought they might burst out of his head. His mouth hung open in shock. This time Leiton couldn’t help himself. He laughed long and loud, until his jaw started to ache, and his eyes welled up with mirthful tears.
“You are a bastard,” Hyleth finally said, regaining control of himself.
“You are only barely adhering to my father’s wishes,” Leiton said, more seriously. “The two of you are playing a dangerous game here. I haven’t said anything before now, because I know you’re both grieving and I have more pressing things to attend to, but the time will come when I have to address this relationship.”
Hyleth ran a hand through his wild curls. “I know,” he said. “I’m honestly not sure either of us understands exactly what we’re doing.”
“Allow me to make things easier,” Leiton said. “At least for a little while.” He slid the top piece of paper over to Hyleth, who picked it up and began to read. After a moment, he peeked over the edge of the paper at Leiton.
“Is this what I think it is?” he asked. Leiton just motioned for him to keep reading. Hyleth scanned the rest of the page and then set it down, staring at it with much the same expression as Leiton himself during his initial reading. A mixture of incredulous, suspicious, and hopeful.
“King Rhydan himself is asking for your help,” Hyleth said.
Leiton nodded. “He is indeed. I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect it.”
“Your father always spoke highly of him,” Hyleth said. “I know they fought during Rhydan’s early reign, but they seemed to get along as well as any Kennoran and Aurothian could for the rest of their lives. Maybe it’s not a bad idea to talk to him.”
“Talking is one thing,” Leiton said. “Giving them our food and supplies is another. Even if I could put aside lifetimes of animosity, I don’t know that we have the supplies to spare for them. I’m already going to ship a significant amount to Polith.”
“What do you want to do?” Hyleth asked.
“I want to send you to Polith,” Leiton replied. “I’m sending General Toiran to Kennor, and Elisara is going to Calchindar. Toiran has a connection in Polith, and Milendra will accompany you to meet him. The General will meet with King Rhydan and hopefully that will lead somewhere. You will find out what you can from the Polithi about this winter, in exchange for our supplies.”
“I’m not sure diplomacy is my calling,” Hyleth said, fidgeting again.
“It doesn’t need to be,” Leiton said. “At least not yet. But Hyleth, you are the Kingsward. Your relationship to the throne means you’ll need to become more than just a sword arm. Do this for me, learn what you can about talking to foreign powers, and come home.”
“Alright,” Hyleth said. “I’ll head out as soon as preparations are ready for the trip.”
“Safe travels, brother,” Leiton said.
Hyleth flashed him a grin. “It’s the Kennorans you should wish safety on, Your Majesticness.”
He was gone before Leiton had a chance to throw something at him.
*
“You’ve been restless lately,” Elisara said. The day was long vanished, fallen before the onset of darkness. Her room was warm and bathed in the uneven glow of firelight from the hearth and she sprawled across her bed, legs and hair tangled with Hyleth’s, her head on his chest where she traced small circles on his skin with her fingertips. “You toss and turn at night, groaning things I can’t understand.”
“I’ve been having dreams,” he replied. “I can’t remember them, exactly, but I feel like they’re important.” He kissed the top of her head. “It sounds crazy, but I feel like Ha’tar himself is trying to tell me something.”
“That doesn’t sound that crazy,” she replied. “I half expect you to go join his priests someday the way you devote yourself to him. Do you think it has something to do with this weird winter?” The snow had abated a few days prior, though occasional flurries still fell most mornings. The cold seemed to have settled in for a long visit, however, and the constant wind just blew the snow into drifts no matter how often it was cleared away.
“Yes,” he said. “I have a list of things I’ve remembered from my dreams, mostly words and phrases. I think some of them are names. I’m just not sure what to do about it. I don’t think anyone in Auroth will know what I’m talking about.”
“Then take your list with you,” she said. “If anyone will have an idea about it, the Polithi will. Maybe it will help him in his mission.” She noticed he was fingering the silver sword he wore at his neck, eyes distant. This will have to be the last time I look at him like this, she realized. Their journeys would take them apart, who knew how long, and when they returned things would have to be different between them. Leiton was right, although she could tell it pained her brother to separate them, it needed to be done. For the good of Auroth.
Hyleth seemed to reach the same conclusion. When he looked down at her, his grey eyes were heavy with longing and sadness. She reached up and brushed a wild lock of blond curls away from his face. I will always love you, she thought. She rose up to kiss him, letting the heavy blankets fall away from her nakedness. Hyleth wrapped thick, powerful arms around her waist and crushed her body against his chest. A moan escaped between them and she deftly swung one leg over him, straddling him and gripping the headboard behind him. They slipped together like two pieces of a puzzle, natural and effortless. His hips came up off the bed to greet her, pushing himself inside, penetrating and sending shocks of pleasure trilling up her spine. He nipped at her earlobe, her jaw, neck, and breasts while she moved her hips in slow, tight circles.
They locked eyes and never spoke a word. When it was over, they collapsed together, lying on their sides with limbs twisted and entangled. Hyleth stroked her cheek, smiling under half-lidded eyes and Elisara traced shapes on his chest as she drifted off to sleep. As far as last nights together go, she thought, that could have been worse.