Page 46 of The Witch who Trades with Death
Chapter Forty-Six
Sava
Sava glared at Neta. “What were you thinking?”
Dawn had risen on the military camp as they tended to injuries and counted the dead. With the mountain pass blocked, Phramanka had ordered a retreat back to town. Amid all the pre-dawn packing and shuffling, Sava had pulled Neta to the blocked ravine for a private scolding.
“About?” she asked.
“Sending Khana up to fight those archers alone !” he hissed. “She was almost killed.”
“Those archers were slaughtering us,” Neta explained, infuriatingly calm. Her face, armor, and cloak were all covered in dust and blood. “We needed to get rid of them. Khana was our best bet, and she delivered.”
“She almost didn’t make it up there.”
“Yes, we definitely miscalculated the jump,” she admitted. “But she recovered, thanks to your help.”
“You didn’t even have an escape route.”
“ None of us had an escape route,” she countered. “We were all ambushed. We all almost died. It is only because of Antallo’s arrogance, his under-officers’ panic, and Khana’s witchcraft that we didn’t.”
Sava hissed, pacing the width of the ravine filled with blood and rocks. A hand stuck out from between two boulders that could’ve just as easily been Khana’s. “Did you force her?”
Neta gave him an incredulous look. “You understand I’m her superior officer, right? You would’ve given the same order.”
“No, I wouldn’t have.”
“Then you would’ve died,” she said plainly. “We all would have. Good thing for you, Khana volunteered.”
That made him pause. “What?”
“She doubted her ability to jump that far, so we considered having her throw one of us up there. But she didn’t trust her aim. Probably for the best; I don’t think anyone else would have survived the journey.”
Given how much difficulty Khana had had getting up there, he couldn’t help but agree. Few things had terrified him more than seeing her leap over everyone’s heads to smash into the rock wall, and then seeing the enemy archers take aim at her. Once she’d disappeared over the edge, he’d kept an eye on the glow as it moved on top of the rock walls, and almost gotten scooped by a nightmare for it. (Athicha had shot it down just before it could reach him.)
He breathed out, trying to rid himself of the anger. It lingered, transforming into frustration, a sort of helpless rage that was all too familiar.
Neta studied him for a moment, then asked, “Midya Sava, may I speak plainly?”
“Have you not been speaking plainly?” he snapped. He hated that she was using his title.
“About Myrta.”
He glared at her calm, intensely focused face. “Fine. What do you want to say?”
“Your trauma over her death is affecting your decisions, which is going to result in somebody dying. Quite possibly, us losing this war. Khana is a grown woman–”
“I know,” he interrupted.
“Who knows what we are fighting against better than you, me, and everyone else in this town,” she continued, barreling over his protest. “And yet, she still volunteered for this. And I have poured months into transforming her into as skilled a fighter as anyone else in this army – without relying on magic. The fact that you have so little faith in her and me is an insult to both of us. If you cannot get your head out of your ass, then you need to resign.”
He snorted. “Myrta also volunteered. And look where that got her.”
“If you could do it again, would you take away her choice?” Neta challenged. “Force her to stay? What if she said no? I’m sure Bhayana had several means of keeping her partner under control.”
“Watch it, serji,” he growled.
She held up her hands, silently acknowledging that that was a bit too far. “It was a battle. Plenty of other people were killed alongside Myrta. But she saved Athicha. Who, by the way, is also risking their life, same as me, by fighting in this battle. But you don’t see either of us throwing a fit.”
Sava didn’t have an answer to that. Saying it wasn’t worth it would just be cruel and wrong, especially since he knew that wasn’t true.
Neta huffed, and in the growing light of day, she looked tired. She was a few years older than Sava, but in that moment, she carried the weight of centuries. “You seem to be under the assumption that I don’t care about the people in my unit–”
“I never assumed that.”
“Clearly you did,” she snapped, finally letting some frustration crack through. “Clearly, some part of you believes that I would just throw one of the very few people I consider a true friend at the enemy without knowing damn well that she can handle herself. Even if she doesn’t believe it. I understand that it feels terrible, watching someone you care about fight alone. That it’s terrifying. But if you cannot handle that, then you need to remove yourself from this situation. Because it will happen again. There will be another battle where Khana is in danger, where witchcraft is the only solution, and we probably won’t be able to help her. So, if you cannot do that, then you should resign. Immediately.”
He chuckled darkly. “I am the chief’s son. Do you have any idea how that will look?”
“Respectfully, Sava, we can win this war without you. We cannot win it without Khana. Today proved that.”
…dammit.
Sava ran a hand over his face. In the cold light of day, he knew that Neta was right. They did need Khana. They needed her in the middle of the bloodshed and horror. But every fiber in his being rebelled against the thought.
Of all the times to realize he was falling in love.
He pulled himself together enough to say, “Thank you for your honesty, serji. You’re dismissed.”
She gave him a curt nod and left him alone with his thoughts, and his fears.