Coulta seemed happy enough to sit with Wildas in his room for a time while Wildas drank yet another tea from the healers on the plush sofa. Wildas spent the time explaining what daily life in Ryal was like. Or what it would be like, if he wasn't still too weak to do much. Coulta asked a few questions here and there, and, when the conversation eventually died, spent a few minutes looking around the room. His attention seemed drawn to the sword rack.

Wildas smiled. "You can look at them, if you would like."

Coulta wandered to the rack, where he took a closer look at the twenty or so swords there. Wildas stood slowly, then joined him when the room didn't spin.

"Most were gifts," he explained, running a hand over a gilded hilt. "One of my distant cousins is a swordsmith. He likes making fancy ceremonial things when he's not working on actual weapons. Some came from other parts of Phelin, given to me by lords." He picked up a very small, lightweight sword with a hilt too small for his hand. "I kept this one because it was my first, and I always had fond memories of my mother teaching me to fight when I was a boy."

"Could I hold one?"

Wildas put the sword back and nodded. "Go ahead."

Coulta carefully chose one of the most decorative swords. The golden hilt was inlaid with numerous gems of all colors, and the silver blade was inscribed with a prayer. Coulta held the blade at an angle to read the glittering words.

"It's a prayer for the health of the descendants of Tryrayl, the first King of Phelin," Wildas explained.

Coulta looked up at him. "A prayer to what?"

"Raiofsi, the god of royalty. Varin didn't welcome the worship any of the gods, did he?"

Coulta shook his head and put the sword back. "Some people worshiped one called Favi."

Wildas nodded. "The goddess of peace and hope. That's understandable."

"Unfortunate," Coulta corrected, picking up a different sword and examining it. "Roane and I were expected to deal with members of the cult whenever we found them. Varin wanted them... eradicated."

Wildas shook his head sadly. Of course the bastard would make Coulta kill people who just wanted some hope in their lives. "Well, Raiofsi is the god of royalty. It's said he decided to divide the world into nations and chose the individuals he deemed most fit to rule them. He's mainly worshiped by the royal families of most countries, hoping to have blessed reigns. I can show you to the castle temple one day. Brother Pelles can help you learn about the gods. I wouldn't expect you to become a devoted worshiper, but it would be helpful to learn."

Coulta took a step back to swing the sword he was holding. "It would be. Thank you." He switched the sword to his left hand and swung it just as easily before setting it back on the rack.

"You can fight with both hands?" Wildas asked in surprise.

Coulta gave him a puzzled look. "Of course."

"Why don't you carry two swords?"

Coulta shrugged. "I never thought to. This way, I can pull a knife if I need to."

"One day I would like to spar with you. It seems like it would be interesting."

"Would I need to give you half a chance to score a hit or no?" Coulta asked with a smirk while he swung another sword.

Wildas grinned. "Is that a challenge?"

"Possibly. I wasn't exactly trained to fight honestly," Coulta pointed out, still giving him a challenging smirk.

"I suppose we'll have to test that, then. But in a few days, when I won't be risking Myri's wrath."

It actually sounded like Coulta chuckled when he said, "Probably a good decision."

Wildas had made sure to leave the door open to forestall any rumors he was sure were spreading, so he wasn't surprised when Rohan suddenly walked into the room without warning. He nodded to Coulta, who returned the nod almost as if they were both equal comrades in arms. Rohan was showing Coulta a lot more respect than Wildas had expected.

"Shelton thought I should tell you that Mother has been asking after you," Rohan said to Wildas. "He suggested you go visit her, if you're feeling up to it."

Wildas nodded. "I should. I've seen everyone else. She's just so busy training."

"This evening she'll be available."

"I'll see her then," Wildas assured him.

Rohan stepped away and motioned to him. Coulta kept testing swords while Wildas stepped away with his brother.

"You know people are talking, don't you?" Rohan asked quietly. "About you returning to the city with two women and a man."

"I honestly don't care."

Rohan raised a brow. "Oh?"

"That's not what I meant," Wildas hissed. "I just don't care what people say. Maybe it's better for people to think I've found my spouses."

Rohan continued to give him a skeptical look. "Do you plan to ask them?"

Wildas glared at him. "If you speak of this again, you will regret it."

Rohan snorted. "I thought as much."

Rohan gave him the smallest of bows and left the room with a smirk before Wildas could ask what he meant. Shaking his head, Wildas turned back to Coulta, who put away the sword he was examining to look at Wildas.

Wildas waved a hand. "Him being annoying, as usual."

"So, being your brother?"

Wildas thought over what Rohan had said, and, while he clearly had been trying to get a rise out of Wildas, there was also an underlying honesty to his words. Not that Wildas wanted to admit that. "Yes, I suppose he was."

*****

Second King Shelton quietly entered the castle temple after breakfast the following morning. The cavernous room was lit by countless candles and the rich scent of burning incense filled the air. Of the two dozen private prayer alcoves, seven appeared to be closed already. At the front of the room, Brother Pelles was placing the morning offering on the altar before the life-sized statues of the Great God and Goddess. The candles at the base of the smaller statues of the lesser gods and goddesses were already lit.

Shelton approached the altar and knelt respectfully before the statues to offer a silent prayer to the gods. When he stood again, Brother Pelles was watching him with a thoughtful expression.

"For someone who claims never to have visions of his own you have a remarkable ability to appear just when I've had one of import."

Shelton smiled slightly. He'd only come because two of his most trustworthy spies had gone silent. "What can you tell me?"

Brother Pelles led him to his own personal chamber off the temple. Shelton took a seat on the wooden chair beside the hearth while the priest sat on the bed. Brother Pelles didn't offer him anything, and Shelton didn't mind. This was how their working relationship had been since they had first met upon their respective appointments.

"You were wrong about the rebel lord's strength," Brother Pelles began. "As you are now aware. He has more support than you could have guessed. Soon your spies will begin to report his actions. He will take control of the holds around us."

Shelton felt a cold trickle of dread pass its way through his body.

"War will soon be upon us."