Page 26 of The Witch who Trades with Death

Chapter Twenty-Six

The days, somehow, got even colder. Snow fell hard. Children ran around flinging snowballs and building lopsided masterpieces, and even some adults joined the fun. After one particularly heavy snowfall, Khana found Athicha carefully crafting a series of startlingly lifelike animals: a wolf, a leopard, a bharal, all symbols of the Seven Families. When night fell, more than one person was tricked into thinking their shadows were the real thing.

Hardly a day passed without someone having to shovel the front steps of the inn, and several soldiers were recruited to keep the roads clear for wagons and animals. Red Frogs Nine often found themselves on shovel duty.

“I thought these were randomly assigned,” Itehua grunted as he tossed another shovelful against a wall.

“Sometimes,” Neta huffed, doing the same. “And sometimes, we get a reminder that Midya Chaku is a friend of the Pinnsviris.”

Khana gasped. “He is?”

“‘Friend’ may be a strong word. But I’ve seen him visiting their house multiple times over the past month. They’ll invite him to dinners, and he’s often seen talking to Bhayana, supposedly about training strategies. It’s not that surprising; most midyas try to cozy up to the Old Families to make connections. And it goes both ways, favors for favors. My uncle’s been hosting a different officer every week since recruitment started.”

“Can you tell him to cozy up to Chaku?” Itehua asked.

Neta snorted. “He’ll just say that Chaku knows what he’s doing, that these hardships make me a better soldier, and that I shouldn’t look for the easy way out. And then he’ll make sure my cousins never have to shovel a day in their lives.”

Itehua jammed his shovel into a bit of ice. “Your family’s fucked up.”

Khana understood the importance of the work, but she was sweating in her armor. And the snow was already coming down again , which meant this time tomorrow all their hard work would be gone.

“I like the shoveling,” Yxe said quietly, a few snowflakes gathering on the tip of his big nose. “We don’t get teased or hit as much.”

“We’re training for war. We’re supposed to get hit so we learn how to dodge when it counts,” Neta grumbled. “Poorly trained soldiers are the first to die in war.”

“Great motivational speech, serji,” Lueti muttered, flipping her black-and-gray braid over her shoulder.

Neta set the metal edge of her shovel on the ground. “After this, we’re doing a short training session. I want to see everyone’s spear and fist forms. Itehua, Xopil, you’ll help me with the others.”

Itehua groaned. “Dammit, woman, at this rate you’re going to kill us long before the Empire.”

“Deal with it. People are assholes who prey on weakness. So shut up and at least act tough.”

“Excuse me?”

They looked up. They’d come to Heimili’s inn, and Amati looked down on them from the second story window. She’d already grown frailer since Khana had healed her, having to sit for longer periods of time, voice getting weaker. “Sounds like the serji is keeping my grandson and ward late tonight?”

“Baba was complaining that the new hires didn’t have much experience,” Haz called back up. “They’ll get plenty tonight.”

“We’re sorry, Amati,” Khana said. “We’ll be in as soon as we can.”

She waved them off. “Bah, stay as long as you need. My son will make you butter tea right now, to keep you warm. And when you’re all done with that extra training tonight, you come here for dinner. Best chuta and stew in town. Haz and Khana have it free, and you five get a unit discount.”

Neta glanced at the others. Xopil was already drooling. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said.

Thus began the Red Frogs Nine tradition. Midya Chaku gave them the drudge jobs: shoveling the streets, digging latrines, and whatever else he could think of. The other units did their best to avoid them, as if their status was contagious, and war games were just as brutal as before. Then when the day was considered done, and the rest of the units went home, Red Frogs Nine stayed on the tundra to train. They went through their weapon drills again and again, until Khana dreamed of them almost as much as her nightmares. But then, when the sun finally went down, they’d go to the inn and be treated to a big dinner, their frozen skin warmed by the fire as they shared stories and poked fun at each other.

The night Yxe finally managed to disarm Itehua called for a round of cheers and a kiss on the cheek from Lueti, which turned the boy red for an hour. When Lueti landed her first solid hit on Neta in hand-to-hand – and apologized profusely for bloodying her nose – the serji grinned all the next day. And when Haz beat Xopil, their best fighter besides Neta, in a fight with sheathed spears, he bragged about it to everyone at the inn.

During another spar, after teaching a few misdirection maneuvers, Xopil knocked Khana’s spear out of her hands. When he tried to rush her, she let him run into her shield and used his own momentum to carry him up and over her. He crashed to the ground, snow and frost flying.

Khana’s knife and axe were on her belt, but she didn’t go for either of them. Didn’t even think of it. Instead, she acted on instinct, putting a hand on Xopil’s chest and breathing in. His aji pooled out of him, into her hand, and she held it there. A glowing mass of yellow and orange and pink around her fingers as Xopil went weak and wide-eyed on the ground.

Khana smirked, wiggling her glowing fingers. “I win.”

She put the life force back in Xopil, and he coughed.

Haz whooped and knocked into Khana. “There’s the terrifying witch I know and love! I was wondering when she’d come out.”

Face heating, Khana helped Xopil to his feet. He rubbed the top of her head with a grin. “That’s a good move. But I think the glowing will make you a target for archers. Maybe use the knife next time?”

“If I got hit, the aji would heal me,” Khana pointed out. “We have stories of witches getting shot through the brain, but they were carrying so much force that they just walked it off.”

“Did you ever see that for yourself?” Neta asked dubiously.

“No, but I fell down a cliff twenty stories high. And I’m still here.”

She blinked. “Right. Take all the life force you want. In fact, is it possible to do what you just did to Xopil, but to several targets?”

“Uh…” In combat? She’d never tried. But creating multiple night creatures involved draining many people’s life force at once. Granted, she’d always been with a group, but perhaps she could. “Probably.”

“We’ll have to try that,” Neta mused.

“Our goal in battle will be watching Khana’s back, then?” Itehua asked, sitting on top of his shield so the snow wouldn’t cling to his bottom. The setting sun across the empty tundra turned the snow-covered ground lavender and made his pox scars look huge. “Seems like a good idea to keep the healer alive.”

“She’s going on to the medics,” Neta said. “After training, she’ll be in a completely different unit.”

Khana had forgotten all about the upcoming medic training, and, for the first time, felt glum about it. She’d be safer with the healers, yes, and wouldn’t have to face nearly as many night creatures. But that also meant leaving the soldiers who had become her friends.

Before she could dwell any further on that, someone whistled. Khana’s dim mood immediately vanished when she recognized Sava’s wolfskin cloak.

“Squeezing in some extra training?” he asked.

“Midya Chaku’s barely keeping us in regular training,” Neta said. “At this point, we’re just going to be fodder.”

Sava’s face hardened. “I’ll talk to him. Khana, the chief wants to see you.”

Khana’s stomach dropped. She scooped up her spear and rushed after him. “Is she hurt? What happened?”

“No one’s hurt,” he said, his square jaw clenched. “She got some new information about the Empire and needs to talk to you about it.”

Khana frowned but didn’t question further. Sava’s shoulders were tenser than his bowstring. Whatever this information was, it couldn’t be good. But why was Phramanka demanding to see her? She was hardly a high-ranked official or advisor, and far from the only Reguallian in town.

Inside, Sava led her to an audience chamber. Chief Phramanka sat on a plush cushion, pouring tea. She was dressed the most casual Khana had ever seen her, without any wolf fur or tooth jewelry. Instead, she had a thick cotton robe and slippers, like she was about to go to bed, her silvering hair tumbling around her shoulders.

Conversely, on the other side of the room, Thriman wore a wolf cloak and sharpened his massive broadsword. The sight made Khana uneasy. Sava motioned for her to sit across from Phramanka, putting her back to Thriman. She could still hear the whetstone against the blade.

“Do you take milk with your tea?” Phramanka asked. Sava sat on the other cushion, a little bit behind his mother.

“If you have some,” Khana said, keeping herself still. “We tend to save it at the inn for stews and other meals.”

“We have plenty.” Phramanka added the milk and handed Khana the cup. She poured her own. “So. You lied to us.”

Khana blinked. “I did?”

“By omission. You said witches had to attend to the emperor. You didn’t say that you were married to him.”

Oh, no.

“What makes you think I was?” she asked, trying to feign ignorance.

Phramanka looked decidedly unimpressed. “Just because we can’t pass the mountains this time of year doesn’t mean we’re completely blind to our enemy’s ways. Ships travel year-round. They heard talk of one of Yamueto’s wives, on the run after killing another. A young desert girl.”

All the confidence Khana had felt from beating Xopil fled. She sipped her tea, buying time. Thriman gave the sword another lick of the whetstone. Sava refused to look at her.

“Being a concubine is not the same as being a wife,” she said at last. There was no use denying it. “There were no marriage vows. I was little more than a servant.”

Phramanka’s eyes hardened. “You said nothing about this during your trial.”

Fear transformed into anger in the blink of an eye. As if a sleeping beast within Khana had just had a bucket of ice dumped on its head.

“What was there to say?” Khana snapped, slamming her teacup down. “I’m sorry, oh great chief, that I was taken from my home against my will and raped by my ancestor for six fucking years ! Please forgive me for not wanting to bring it up!”

The room went completely silent, save for Khana’s hard breathing. Sava’s wide eyes looked between her and his mother, who remained stone-faced.

“So, you were unwilling?” she said at last. “You had no options at all?”

“Disobedience means death. At best,” Khana said. “He transforms most traitors into night creatures. Occasionally he gave them to Kokaatl to ‘play’ with.”

“Kokaatl?”

Khana’s face heated. “One of his other concubines. She was willing. And her favorite hobby was torturing anyone the emperor gave to her. She was also the woman… the woman I killed when I escaped.”

“In self-defense, was it?”

Khana looked down. “Not exactly. I had a friend named Sita…”

It all spilled out of her. Her parents trading her into the empire, the birth control, Kokaatl’s murder and dismemberment… She probably shared a little too much. By the time she was done, she felt nothing. Like all her emotions had been drained out.

Thriman sat next to his wife. His sword was gone. “We thought you were a spy when we heard this,” he said, unapologetically. Phramanka glared at him, but he kept going: “No one is forced into marriage or bed in Pahuuda. Not without getting their asses kicked. So, when we heard that you and Yamueto shared a bed…” He shrugged.

“A cultural misunderstanding,” Sava said, shifting his legs so he could put his bearded chin on his knee. He was much more relaxed than earlier. “I think it’s one of the reasons some Ghura don’t like the Reguallians who live here. Your ways are strange, and they never bother to learn how or why.”

“You’re getting there,” Khana said, willing to forgive them.

“It would have saved us all a heart attack if you’d come forward earlier, publicly or privately,” Phramanka said, a slight scolding edge to her voice. “Is this why he’s attacking our kingdom? To get you back?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “He’s wanted to conquer this land for a long time. No northern army has managed to hold anything south of the mountains.”

“What happens when he learns you’re here?”

She gulped. “He’ll demand you return me, and if you don’t, he’ll destroy Pahuuda.”

Thriman snorted. “And I’m sure he’ll be so kind to us if we obey.”

“Even if he spared us, he’s going to conquer the rest of the kingdom,” Sava pointed out, voice hardening with his passion. “Kill our soldiers, pin down our women, enslave any other witches taking refuge. We can’t let that happen. The reason we settled in these mountains is to ensure that doesn’t happen!”

Phramanka finished her tea. “And if he should get through us, I doubt that anywhere on this continent will be safe.”

She looked at Khana, and Khana understood. Protecting Pahuuda was her best chance at protecting herself, no matter how much the upcoming war terrified her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Phramanka nodded. “Good. Sava, why don’t you escort our guest home? You both have a long day tomorrow.”