Page 20 of The Witch who Trades with Death

Chapter Twenty

The next week was nothing short of grueling. Khana, Haz, and every other recruit were run into the ground from sunup to sundown. The Red Frog Company midya was not Bhayana, but a man named Chaku, and he was the one in charge of determining the company’s schedule for the day. Running laps in the morning, learning weapons in the afternoon, etc.

Serji Neta was responsible for the hands-on training of their unit. She adjusted Khana’s grip on her knife, axe, and spear, which was unbearably long and awkward. She barked at Khana – and Yxe – to hold their horribly heavy shields a few inches higher to properly fit in a phalanx. She ordered them to do extra push-ups if they didn’t succeed in a proper task or fall in line quickly enough. Itehua was usually on the receiving end of that punishment, but Khana found herself on the ground with him for trailing behind the others during their mile-long runs, wheezing and struggling just to keep up the pace. Most of the time, Neta ordered the entire unit to do push-ups right alongside the offender.

“Is this what it’s like having siblings?” Haz grunted, doing his push-ups much more easily than Khana, whose arms felt like they would catch fire. She’d only done her first ten and had twenty more to go. “Getting punished for something I didn’t do?”

“A unit lives and dies by the strength of its weakest link,” Neta said sweetly. To her credit, she was also on the ground, doing the push-ups she had ordered the unit to do. Not all the serjis did that. “That’s how we’ll be treated during graduation. If we don’t all nail our weapon sets and finish the runs in time, none of us become soldiers, and you only get half the payment you were promised.”

Khana cringed. It was obvious to her, and probably everyone else, that she was their weakest link. Their success or failure depended on her.

“Don’t you know any magic to help with this, witch?” Itehua growled, pushing himself up and down easily enough, though he still breathed hard. In fact, the only members of the squad who seemed to have no issue with the exercise were Neta herself and Xopil, who did everything without complaint.

“No,” Khana gasped, lowering herself closer to the ground on shaking limbs, trying to forget about the power she felt when full of aji.

It didn’t help that Heimili and Amati still needed them to work the inn. They’d gotten a couple of neighborhood children to assist, but there were still busy nights. Every now and then Khana and Haz would stumble back to the inn, leaning on their spears and dreaming of baths and sleep, only to find the dining room full of customers. Haz would groan, then plaster on a smile and start waiting tables while Khana went to get a head start on dishes. When she finally did get to bed, she was greeted by nightmares. She woke up gasping, her pelts and wool blankets soaked in sweat as she tried to wipe away her tears and the memories. Heimili would feed her and Haz breakfast, and they’d start a new day.

“What did I say the punishment was for deserting?” Haz yawned, after a couple of weeks of this.

“Execution or tundra exile, which is just as good as,” Khana replied, trudging alongside him to the field. The black sky gradually turned pale gray in the east, but the sun had been offering less and less warmth lately. She’d started wearing an extra layer under her wool armor.

“Would you like to be my exile buddy?”

She shrugged. “It’d be useful to have something to eat out there.”

Haz blinked. “What?”

“Nothing!” Khana cheered.

He pressed a piece of chuta against her. “Eat this before you start eating me, please. It’s the perfect appetizer.”

By the time they’d met up with the rest of the army, they found all of Frog Company getting ready to move out, Neta packing several yards of rope into a bag.

“Serji?” Haz asked.

“We’re going into the mountains,” she said. “Get ready to move.”

Khana looked at the black and gray towers of stone and gulped. She’d crossed those once already; she had no desire to repeat the experience.

“What are we going to do up there?” Haz asked.

“Glass diving,” Neta answered.

Itehua and Xopil groaned while Haz whooped. “Yes! I’ve always wanted to try that!”

“What’s glass diving?” Khana asked.

“When the town was first settled, explorers found stores of black glass in certain caves and crevices in the mountains,” Yxe explained, adjusting the yellow wool hat on his head that tried and failed to make him look older. “Scholars call it obsidian. It’s most common around volcanic islands, which lends credence to the theory that these mountains were once volcanoes. They’re very difficult to get to, unless you have a team. As such, it’s been a traditional military exercise for every new unit to fetch a piece of black glass.”

“It builds trust. You’re supposed to decorate your helmet or armor with it,” Xopil said, motioning to a string of leather hanging off of his shoulder. A bit of black glass was tied on the end of it. “My son always tries to pull on this. Thinks it’s one of his toys.”

“It’s a pain in the ass is what it is,” Itehua growled.

“Is that why you don’t have one?”

“I would’ve gotten it if an avalanche hadn’t started. Mother Mountain herself tried to kill us.”

Xopil’s face fell. “I was there with my unit that day. I lost a friend.”

Itehua’s mouth thinned, but he didn’t say anything degrading.

“How come you aren’t with one of the other companies, the ones with permanent soldiers? Blue or Yellow?” Yxe asked. “You have the experience for it, don’t you?”

“My unit was dismantled after two of the men stabbed me,” Xopil said. “I think they moved me here to avoid bullies.”

“Those units are made entirely of spoiled, rotten bastards,” Itehua grumbled. “All they do is kiss Old Family asses.”

“I’ll try not to take that personally, recruit,” Neta said, tossing her pack on her back. “We march in less than two minutes.”

“How do you know all this about the glass diving?” Khana quietly asked Yxe.

“My mother’s a governess for Master Thulu’s children,” he said. “She tutors his youngest son, and then tutors me. There’s a lot of fascinating history that gets left off the tapestries. Did you know that one of our first chiefs was a potter?”

He said it with such enthusiasm and excitement that Khana couldn’t help but smile, even as they heard the order to move. She stayed next to Yxe as they were marched toward the mountains. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s rather fascinating. Potters were incredibly important in our original homeland, which we think is a forest about a three-month-march away with a river that had a large clay deposit. But as our people traveled wider and ceramics became less useful than things like cloth bags and reed baskets, potters had to find other means of…”

“Gods, boy, shut up . No one cares,” Itehua snapped.

Yxe shut his mouth, a beaten look on his face that reminded Khana a little too much of the concubines and their children that had the wills whipped out of them. She nudged his arm. “You can tell me later.”

They climbed up the mountain, starting down the wide path that Khana had used to get to town, but then turned at a narrower trail she didn’t know. It was impossible to find unless you knew to look for it and disappeared in some areas. They had to climb up a sheer rock wall at one point, which made Khana tremble. Luckily more experienced climbers, including Neta, went first.

“Well, that explains why you brought the rope,” Khana said as Neta pulled her over the edge.

The young serji chuckled, winding the rope around her arm. “Oh, we’re not done with this yet.”

Confused, Khana continued to follow the company until they came upon a long crevice in the mountain. A black scar in the gray stone and white snow. The first few units had already got there and looked down, egging each other on. Khana crept to the edge.

The first several feet were regular gray stone. But farther down – far, far down – was some sort of black glass, like the teeth of a giant monster.

She shook her head, stepping back. “This is insane.”

“This is amazing ,” Haz said, grinning. “Can I go first?”

“I’ll go first,” Neta said. “Serjis must go first. That’s the tradition. Let’s find a good spot.”

The crevice was plenty long enough for all eleven Frog units to spread out. To Khana’s growing horror, one of them tied a man’s feet together.

They found a spot that looked just as terrifying as the rest of the crevice. Neta sat on the ground and tied the rope around her ankles.

“You’re really doing this?” Khana asked, her voice cracking.

“Of course. It wouldn’t even be the first time.” Neta pulled a necklace out from under her armor, strung with a few animal teeth, a couple arrowheads, and a polished piece of natural black glass.

“What happens if you fall?”

“Then the six of you get punished for letting me fall,” Neta said cheerfully. “So don’t get any ideas.”

“Damn,” Itehua muttered.

That tundra exile looked better by the minute.

“After I’m done, Haz can go next,” the serji continued. “Be sure to take your axe; you use the back of it to break off a good piece. But don’t bring anything else unless you want to lose it.”

She removed her own leopard cloak and necklace. It was the first time Khana had ever seen the woman without it; she might as well have shed her skin. Sitting down to hide her height and bulk, she looked like almost every other Reguallian, with tan skin, black hair, and almond-shaped eyes. The only clue of her Ghuran blood was the button nose.

Once Neta had tightened the knot around her ankles to her satisfaction, she ordered the six of them from weakest to strongest, which meant Khana was closest to the edge – even Yxe could lift more weight than her. The other units did the same around them. Already Red Frogs Three had lowered someone down.

“Got the rope?” Neta asked, sitting near the edge of the crevice as casually as if she was in a kitchen.

Khana tightened her gloved grip, grateful her sweat wouldn’t interfere. “Are we sure this won’t break, serji?”

“I knew a man who died on one of these because the rope broke,” Itehua offered, second from the back.

Khana gulped.

“We got the rope, serji!” Haz cheered. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

“Good.” Neta fell sideways, right off the edge. Khana yelped as the rope went taut, pulling her forward. The rest of the unit held tight, keeping her from going over the edge, too.

“Lower me down!” Neta ordered.

“Easy and steady,” Itehua said. “A little bit at a time.”

They slowly lowered Neta further. Khana dared to look over the edge. She could only see the bottom of Neta’s boots as they got smaller and smaller.

“That’s good! Stop!” Neta ordered. They did.

After a bit of hacking and cursing, she called again, “All right! Bring me up!”

They pulled her up a lot faster than they’d lowered her down. Khana and Yxe grabbed her legs as soon as they were in reach and hauled her over the edge.

Neta held up a palm-sized chunk of obsidian. “Got it!”

Xopil whistled. “Good job, serji!”

“Very good job,” Lueti said, kneeling to get a closer look. “If you break it up, you can make earrings that match your necklace.”

“I just might.” Neta untied herself. “Haz, I believe you wanted to go next?”

Khana hissed as she watched her friend’s ankles get tied up. “Please be careful, Haz.”

“You be careful. You’re the one holding the rope,” he snarked, pulling his axe out of his belt. Khana studied the rope. It was a little frayed, but not enough to worry about.

When he was ready, he practically jumped, whooping. Khana gritted her teeth and lowered him inch by inch with the others. She didn’t relax until they’d pulled him up again, waving a piece of black glass. “I got it!”

“I’ll go next,” Itehua sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

“There’s not enough snow yet for an avalanche. You’ll be all right,” Xopil said.

After Itehua went Xopil, then Lueti – who cursed like a crew of sailors as she hacked at the glass with her axe – then Yxe. Finally, it came down to Khana.

“It’s a lot easier than it looks, darling,” Lueti assured her, holding her small piece of obsidian between two wrinkled fingers. “Believe me: if I can do it, anyone can.”

“The last time I was dangling this far over a cliff, I fell,” Khana replied. “It would’ve been fatal if I didn’t have life force.”

“Khana, you crossed half an empire, a foreign kingdom, and these very mountains to get to Pahuuda,” Neta said, rolling up the rope. “You can fetch a piece of glass. Now sit down so I can tie your legs.”

Gulping, Khana did as she was told, hugging her thighs to her chest as Neta worked. The rope felt like a chain. Her heart pounded so hard she felt it in her toes.

“I don’t like heights,” she said weakly.

“No one likes heights,” Neta grumbled.

“I don’t like speaking in front of crowds,” Yxe offered.

“I don’t like wolves,” Lueti said.

“I don’t like standing around in the cold,” Itehua snapped. “Can we move along?”

“Oh, shush. She’s obviously terrified,” the old woman retorted. “That was me the first time I took a man to bed.”

“You shush. You’re a whore. That’s the easiest job in the world. You just lie back and let him do the work.”

“If that was all I did, I wouldn’t charge nearly as much.”

“Enough,” Neta ordered. “Khana, let’s go. The sooner we’re done with this, the sooner we’re back for lunch.”

Khana looked over the edge and swallowed back bile. Had it gotten deeper in the last five minutes?

She looked up at her unit. They all gripped the rope, Yxe in front and Xopil in the back. Haz gave her an encouraging smile.

“Before my balls freeze off, please,” Itehua called.

“I hate to agree with him, but yes,” Neta said.

All right. Just get to the highest point so you don’t have to go that far. Gripping her axe, Khana crawled over the edge of the ravine. Gravity tugged her into its grasp, gently at first, then all at once. The rope held firm, forcing her upside-down. The bottom of the ravine yawned at her, looking like the bottom was miles away when really it was only a fatal few hundred feet. Just like the top of the palace wall back in Balasco. Don’t think about that Khana.

“We’re going to lower you down,” Neta called.

Khana whimpered, and the rope took her deeper into the pit. She stayed close to the wall, pressing herself against the stone with her free hand as she went. A worm dangling on a hook, waiting to drown or be swallowed whole. After an eternity, the gray stone turned to black glass.

“Stop!” she shouted. “I’m here!”

They thankfully stopped lowering her. By now the blood had pooled to her head, making her dizzy. Or maybe that was her nausea and fear. She took the back of her axe and smashed it into the obsidian. A piece broke off, but she couldn’t grab it. She had to let go of the wall with her other hand but grabbed it again as soon as she started to swing, terrified at the feeling of free-fall. The piece of obsidian she’d knocked free fell into the darkness below.

“You still alive down there, Khana?” Haz called.

“J-Just a moment!” She’d have to let go of the wall to get the obsidian.

She couldn’t; the wall was the only thing keeping her tethered.

She needed the glass.

Holding the wall isn’t doing you much good. If they drop you, it won’t help. But they won’t drop you. They can’t. They’ll all be hanged for it.

It still took a long moment to let go of the wall, gently enough that she didn’t swing or even move in the air.

There was a spot of obsidian naturally jutting out. Khana took hold of it with one hand and struck it with the back of her axe. It took a couple of tries, but the piece finally dislodged.

Khana grinned, looking at the light reflecting off the dark glass. “I got it,” she whispered.

The rope jolted, sending her lower a few inches. “Hey!” she shouted. “Don’t lower me! I got it!”

“We didn’t,” Yxe called.

Something snapped. She dropped again, farther. Khana yelped, her stomach dropping to her neck.

“Shit! The rope’s frayed!”

“Pull her up!”

They yanked, hauling Khana up. She couldn’t grab onto the wall; that’d just slow them down. She couldn’t climb up herself; she was upside down. She couldn’t do anything except clutch her axe and piece of obsidian as she was pulled higher and higher.

The rope frayed again, and another piece snapped, the sound echoing off the glass walls. She screamed as she dropped, but only a few inches.

“You’re almost there, darling. Just a little more,” Lueti called.

A hand grabbed her ankle. Yxe hauled her over the edge.

Khana rolled and scrambled back, as far away from the ledge as she could get, with her legs still tied together until Haz snatched her shoulders and stopped her. “You’re all right! You’re all right! You’re fine. All clear.”

Khana put a hand over her mouth to hold back a sob, her vision blurred by tears. The entire unit panted. Yxe trembled, either from cold or fear, she couldn’t tell.

Some women from the closest other unit jogged up to them. “Everything all right?”

Neta held up the rope. It had been frayed to its last strand. “We’ll have to borrow some rope for the trip back to town, but everyone’s out.”

“Thank the gods,” Xopil said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Nine really is a bad number.”

“Tell me you at least got the glass,” Itehua said.

It took Khana a moment to realize he was talking to her, and longer to move her limbs. When she held up the finger-sized piece of black glass she’d freed from the wall, Haz pulled her into a half-hug. “I told you we wouldn’t let you fall.”

Khana wiped her face, surprising herself by leaning into Haz, away from the feeling of free-fall. It grounded her. The rest of the unit sat down around her, catching their breath, while the other unit that’d come to help left them alone. Lueti undid Khana’s ropes with deft fingers, and she was finally free.

“Got a lot of experience with ropes, Lueti?” Itehua asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Plenty. You should try it, once you learn to get a woman to completion.”

“I see we should’ve dropped you in that crevice.”

“You don’t want an old woman’s ghost haunting you. The nagging alone will make you commit suicide.”

“My aunt said she was haunted by an old ghost,” Xopil commented. “She always said it was responsible for stealing her sandals.”

“My aunt said trousers make women infertile and that the mountains were made of the gods’ dung,” Ixe said.

Itehua, Lueti, and Haz all laughed. “God Shit Mountains!”

“That’s their new name,” Haz snickered. He still hadn’t let go of Khana, and she wasn’t inclined to move. Sitting on that mountain, listening to the unit talk about nothing, she realized that Amati might have had a point. For the first time in a long time, she had people looking after her.