Page 2 of Weaving Winter

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.”

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