Page 55 of The Witch who Trades with Death
Chapter Fifty-Five
They saved the crops.
Khana got a perfect view of the near-untouched farms as they piled their dead onto pyres of animal bone. Over thirty warriors had been killed, some of them identifiable only by their clothes or trinkets, their heads separated from their bodies by the nightmares’ rampage. They also gathered the bodies of the Reguallian soldiers that had fallen, piling them onto a separate pyre to burn. Their ashes would be gathered and presented to the empire at the next opportunity.
But they didn’t have a body for Heimili to burn. For some reason, that thought made her feel guiltier than watching Haz die; Yamueto had not only killed him but stolen him, right in front of her.
Neta had been the one to break the news to Heimili. She’d been stone-faced when she’d found Khana in the middle of that street. Khana was in shock, numb, unable to breathe life into the words. Athicha and Sava had come down from the rooftops and explained.
The rest of the night was a blur. Khana remembered sitting in the inn, nursing a cup of tea while Heimili cried and Neta spoke, the tightening around her eyes the only sign of the grief she kept leashed. She remembered removing her armor, replacing it with a dress and cloak. Somewhere in there, Sava had hugged her, whispering apologies as his own eyes watered.
Heimili stood with her, with the rest of the town, watching the bodies go onto the pyres. They covered about a quarter of the training field. The rest of the unit stood by them, looking grim. Xopil kept wiping his eyes, and Yxe’s chin wobbled.
“We send these souls to Tsermayu’s starry realm, that she may reward them for their bravery and courage,” Chief Phramanka said, her voice carrying out over the field. She still wore her armor, but she’d cleaned off the blood. “They fought nobly, so that the rest of us may have a chance to live in peace and freedom. We will not forget their sacrifice.”
They lit the pyres. Khana wondered how many more bodies would go up in flames before this was over. Which other members of her unit would she lose? Yxe? Neta? Sava?
They returned to town. Khana was surrounded by her unit, but they were all silent. She kept expecting to hear Haz’s voice, cracking a joke or spiraling into a ridiculous story just to break the tension. There was nothing.
“Did you hear? Bhayana Pinnsviri is missing,” said someone across the street.
“Missing, or they just didn’t find a body?” their companion replied.
“Probably the latter. Her guard Sipah is definitely dead. I heard she got snatched by one of the nightmares right after he went down.”
“Ah. That’ll do it.”
“Maybe we should’ve given up the death-bringer,” someone else muttered, cutting Khana like a knife.
“Don’t be an idiot,” their friend scolded. “Those bastards would’ve come for us even if we’d delivered her on a platter.”
Neta tugged her away, leading the unit farther from the rumors. They all kept their pace slow to keep up with Heimili’s limp. “We’ll get him next time,” she promised.
“How?” Khana asked dully.
“We’ll find a way.”
Which Khana interpreted to mean I have no idea.
“Serji, we should probably talk about our chances,” Itehua said. “We were doing fine until they figured out how to fly. With a few more of those monsters, we’re done.”
“We might have to retreat,” she admitted. “But one thing that will never help is losing hope and causing panic.”
“I’m not panicking, I’m just trying to find a way for the rest of us to survive.”
“I don’t want to retreat,” Xopil said. “Crossing the tundra takes weeks. People die.”
“And no one dies from war?”
“Tlastisti is pregnant.”
Everyone stared at him. Xopil gave a tight smile. “She can’t cross the tundra. Neither can Ponti. It’d be too dangerous for them. Their best chance is to stay in town, even if the emperor wins.”
Khana could see the logic in that. Yamueto didn’t like burning towns or cities if he could use them, and Pahuuda was a very useful point of contact between the empire and the kingdom it was trying to conquer. He’d want this town to tend to the armies he sent through the mountain pass, possibly even grow it into a city.
But what type of life would that be for Tlastisti? What kind of world would Ponti, and his baby sibling grow up in? The empire didn’t let its people choose their leaders or protect them if those leaders turned sour.
Itehua clasped Xopil on the shoulder, and Yxe managed a somewhat cheerful, “Congratulations!”
Heimili visibly shook himself, despite his wet eyes. “Best to celebrate new life while we can. Come on.”
Xopil shook his head. “Heimili, you don’t have to–”
“You know my son would be all over this, making ridiculous faces at your baby and flirting with your wife. He’d drag you all to our dining hall by the ear so we could host the announcement. So.” He poked a thick finger at the bigger man’s chest. “Go fetch your wife and son. Tell her she’s not cooking tonight and to be at the inn so we can feed her and the babies dinner.”
A last meal, Khana realized. Any of them could be next.