Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

"Asajia! Asajia?" Sanya's voice echoed from the front of the house. "Are you home?"

I folded the tea towel I'd been drying dishes with and untied my apron, heading for the front door. The house was small. Somehow, I still managed to pay the lease on it. My father had secured the mortgage long ago when he and my mother were first married. They didn't have the money to buy or build their own home, so we had always lived here, all of my twenty-four years. This four room house was the only home I'd ever known.

"Sanya, I'm here," I said, popping out from the curtain that cordoned off the living room from the kitchen. The house also contained two bedrooms, and a privy shack out back. "I was just cleaning up in the kitchen."

"Oh, good. I thought you might be out hunting." She held out a basket. The yeasty scent of freshly baked bread wafted from it. "I brought you some bread and cookies."

Sanya was a baker. She and her husband baked bread for the village. Before she had married, the business belonged to Sanya's grandmother. Sanya was also an orphan but her grandmother had left everything to her, and Sanya's husband had been willing to play by her rules. They'd been married for three years, and he helped with the business.

I took the basket, my mouth watering. "Thank you. I haven't had enough spare coin to buy bread for half a month. I'm not starving, but meat and roots get old when I eat them every day."

"I know. I haven't seen you at the shop lately." She motioned toward the basket. "Well, eat. I added a pot of butter."

As I unloaded the basket and fetched a knife and a plate, Sanya followed me into the kitchen and settled in on the other side of the table, a worried look on her face.

"You want some wine? I have several bottles left." I didn't drink wine—not much. I didn't like the taste, and it made my head spin. But I still had some from my mother and father.

"Sure, I'll have a drink."

I poured Sanya some bilberry wine and then settled down opposite her, slicing a roll in half and spreading it with butter. As I bit into the bun, the flavor melted in my mouth.

"Mmm, I can't believe how good this is." I paused, but she merely sipped at her drink. "What's going on?" I could always tell when Sanya was worried. She had a tell—her face would slip into a half-smile and she winced as though something hurt.

"Asajia…have you talked to the sheriff lately?"

I shook my head. "No. Why?"

Nobody I knew willingly talked to the sheriff, except maybe his family. A dislikeable man, Leif Garimorn was as crooked as the snow was cold, and everybody knew he kept his wife and children under his thumb. In fact, his wife was often seen sporting a black eye. He had several mistresses and nobody knew how they were treated because he kept them as indentured servants, locked away in his massive house. Leif was close with the Magistrate. They were brothers-in-law, the Magistrate having married Garimorn's sister.

Sanya shifted in her seat. She opened another napkin in the basket, uncovering a dozen sugar-crusted ginger cookies, and took one, staring at the toasted brown round before absently biting into it. A flutter stirred in my stomach. Something was definitely wrong.

"Sanya, you're making me nervous." I set the piece of bread down, staring at her. "Tell me what's going on."

Sanya let out a long sigh. "I don't know this for sure, but Ren overheard Garimorn talking about you yesterday."

"About me? That's not good." It was never good to hear your name on his lips. If at all possible, staying outside his notice was the best course of action. "Did Ren hear what he said?" Any information would be helpful.

"He heard him say something about you not paying your tithe." She frowned, then asked, "Did you?"

I paled. The truth was, I had missed paying my tithe this year, and, though I thought my mother had paid it for last year, I wasn't entirely sure.

"Oh sweet Kaia," I said, inhaling a sharp breath. "No, I didn't. I was hoping that he wouldn't notice until I earned enough on my next hunting trip to pay it off. The animals are eating to bulk up for the winter, and it's easier hunting during the autumn months."

Winter was on the way. We'd had the first dusting of snow two weeks ago, and this next moon promised to bring more. At least, the weather witch foresaw it. The tops of Mount Glarran and the surrounding range were already covered, and we were all gearing up for the long winter to come. I had been spending extra time in the forest chopping wood and bringing it home on the wheeled sledge. Thank gods Yaran, my horse, was in good health and sturdy.

The days were waning, and cutting trees in the dark was dangerous, so I went early, chopped down the smaller trees I was able to handle, then in the evening I split the logs into firewood by lantern light. It was long, hard work but I couldn't afford to buy wood, and the winters were deadly without warmth.

"If he calls the debt before you have the coin, you're going to be in trouble. I'd loan you the money but we barely have enough to rub two coins together. Most of our income these days is in trade."

The time right after the annual end-of-summer tithe was always lean in Renmark. But even if she did have the money, I wouldn't take it. Sanya and her husband were good people, and the only real friends I had. I wouldn't endanger that friendship for the world.

I glanced around the house. There had to be something I could sell to come up with the price. But my mother had sold almost everything of value after Father died, except for my horse. And I couldn't part with the horse.

Then, I thought of one thing that might fetch at least part of what I owed.

"My mother's bride-dress. It's woven of the finest silk. I still have it. She couldn't bear to sell it while she was still alive but when she was sick, she told me that if she didn't pull through, I should sell whatever I needed to in order to survive. I doubt I'll ever find a husband, so I don't need it for marriage."

It was tradition for brides to wear their mother's bride-dress, and ours had been handed down through five generations. It hurt to think about selling the one link I had to the lineage of women who had walked before me, but I couldn't pay the tithe with memories.

"I wonder if I have enough time to travel to Lake Shore. They have some wealthy tenants there."

Lake Shore was the nearest village below the Leanderial Line, which divided the People of the Snow from the People of the Sun. I had a few regular customers there who bought meat and fat from me, but they didn't know my history, and they wouldn't care about my father's foolhardy moves. The dress would just be a bride-dress, without any rumors attached to it.

"When will you leave?" Sanya asked.

"I'll head out before dawn. That way I can be back by the next morning and, hopefully, I'll have enough to pay the tithe. I can just plead my mother's death clouding my mind and making me forget. He probably won't believe it, but if I have the money in hand, I should be fine."

Sanya nodded. "Leave early, before anyone is awake to see you go. I'll go home and make you a basket of sandwiches to eat on the way." She stood, glancing out the window. "I should get back. Dusk will be here soon, and I need to make dinner so we can rest early. I'll be awake well before dawn tomorrow to put the bread in the oven. Don't forget to drop by." She gave me a quick hug.

As she left, I thanked my stars for her friendship. The moment the door closed behind her, I sprang into action. I hurried to my bedroom and laid out my riding clothes. A pair of leather pants with wide legs, a long blue tunic embroidered with silver threads, and a cape made of rabbit fur. I made sure my bow had a good string on it, and wrapped a spare string in a leather scrap, just in case.

After finishing the bread and half the cookies, I settled by the fire to sharpen my blades. My father had given me a silver dagger when I was sixteen. It was tradition for all Daughters of the Snow to be gifted a dagger on their sixteenth birthday.

So on the twelfth day of the Ice Moon my father and mother presented me with a silver dagger that was enchanted. It would never dull and never need polish. However, my short sword and axe both needed a sharper edge. I set to sliding them along the oiled whetstone as the fire crackled and popped, and by the time I finished it was dark outside.

I hung the small kettle half filled with water over the spit in the fireplace. Slicing a smoked hunk of venison into bite size pieces, I tossed it into the pot, added salt and some wild onions, two small potatoes, and a diced carrot.

As my dinner cooked, I headed outside to the stalls where I checked Yaran's hooves, then readied the saddle and saddle bags. Come morning, I could be off before there was any chance of Garimorn showing up at my door. I should be on the road near dawn, if everything went right.

The horse was ready, and I packed up the bride-dress, setting it by the door. Lastly, I dug under one of the floorboards and brought out a small bag. There were a handful of coins inside—but less than half what I needed to pay the tithe. Torn about whether to take them with me, I finally tucked them back in the bag and—after digging a little pocket in the dirt—buried them beneath the floorboards again. Then, after eating dinner and finishing off the cookies, I crawled into bed, burrowing under the covers.

For the first time since my mother died, I felt incredibly alone. As hard as I tried to keep thoughts of the sheriff at bay, I couldn't keep from going there. What would he do? I was late, so he could lawfully punish me, even if I came back with the money. My father had scared him—that much I knew. But I had neither my father nor mother to protect me. I was a grown woman, alone in the world, and I had to face my trials on my own.

My thoughts in turmoil, I finally managed to fall asleep, and rested uneasily till morning.

Dawn came early. I had trained myself to wake at will, and sure enough, outside, the faint hints of light barely crested the horizon. It wasn't the sun per se—from now on, days with sunshine would be few as the long winter approached—but dawn glimmered through the clouds with a diffused light.

I gathered my pack and hooked up the sledge to the horse, then strapped the meat I could afford to part with to the sledge, along with the box containing the bride-dress.

As I swung atop Yaran's back, he whinnied, then settled as I clucked to him. Slowly, pulling the sledge behind us, I headed out.