Darish dipped his head toward her, expression hard. “We manage all the trade for these villages, taking their medicines far further than they could ever safely travel. We bring back blankets and clothes, farming tools, things they couldn’t get otherwise. Look around at these little tree houses. None of this would exist without us enabling their isolation.”
Iryana ground her teeth. “Yes, Captain.” But it wasn’t the entire story; it couldn’t be. But as she retreated from him and circled the room, she realized she couldn’t deny that there were a lot of things they wouldn’t have had access to. Lumps of ore from deep in the mountains, cloths woven on looms far too big to fit in one of their buildings, even plants she knew didn’t grow anywhere close.
The village clearly benefited from trade, but that didn’t mean the military wasn’t taking advantage.
She found herself standing next to the goods they had delivered, staring down at the pack Darish had sat down. Its presence seemed to pull her in, taunting her.Ignore it, she pleaded with herself.
It was a sick sort of masochism that seemed to drive her hands as she reached down and opened the mouth of the bag wide. She froze, staring at the contents. There were no poppies. Just dark gray fabric.
Iryana scrubbed her hands over her face, taking a few large steps from the pile of supplies. She must have imagined them or misinterpreted what she’d seen, which was a worrying thought. She needed to keep it together.
A cackling sound made her look up to see a woman hobbling her way into the market. She was hunched with age, leaning heavily on a twisted cane.
“Oh, Vaneshta!” the old woman called. “I made a huge batch of rhodiola spirits a few weeks ago; let’s get you a bottle.” The older woman beckoned to Vaneshta, who had been searching through the wares.
“If it’s half as good as the last one, you’ll give me two,” Vaneshta demanded, but it sounded more like a jest.
Iryana couldn’t help but stare. How was Vaneshta so friendly with them? Vaneshta wasn’t even that friendly with other soldiers. Iryana couldn’t imagine anyone from her family treating someone from a military gang so kindly. Every time a representative came to the Dovaki post, her family was in an awful mood for days, even when there were no direct threats.
She had expected to be helping Darish strong arm the settlements. She had expected to be hated, but things didn’t seem to be that simple. Some of the people definitely seemed upset at their visit, but others welcomed them in and traded willingly.
Iryana looked around and noticed Vabihn and Shahn were talking to a group of young men from the village. They were laughing like longtime friends.
This wasn’t how the brigades interacted with outsiders everywhere; she had heard plenty of stories to the contrary. Still, she clearly didn’t understand how things worked as well as she thought she did, and that was a problem.
It was important to understand one’s enemies.
Iryana grabbed the jar of clotting agent and put one of her spare daggers on a shelf of small weapons. It was more than a fair trade. Stowing the jar away carefully, Iryana grappled with the unsettled feeling in her gut.
Chapter Thirteen
Iryana hated returning late from missions. Especially multi-day missions.
The manor’s hall, where most of the soldiers ate, was uncomfortable on the sunniest of days. Eyes always watching, people oblivious to any desire to be left alone. It was suffocating. But it was so much worse at night.
Eyes focused on the nearly finished dinner in front of her, Iryana tried her hardest to ignore everyone else. She just had to finish her food, get her payment, and get out. Dinner was at least better than usual, the cooks less worried about using up their stores with spring upon them. Reluctantly, she had to admit she was enjoying the meal: savory dumplings stuffed with salted meats in a broth with boiled barley and pickled cucumbers.
It had been days since she had truly been alone, and being around the others seemed to grate on her more as time went on. By the end of her missions, she was a tense mess. She was looking forward to later that night when she could sneak away.
She’d joined her team for dinner, like she usually tried to do, but she was so close to the end of her rope.
“Got the goods,” Vabihn announced as he approached their table, hefting high the small sack of clinking coins as if it were far more impressive than it was.
Shoving the last dumpling into her mouth, Iryana shoved her bowl back.Finally.
The rest of their team sat around the table still finishing their dinner, while a few had already started drinking. Her roommate in particular. At least the captain was absent.
“Staying for a drink?” Vaneshta asked, like she had every night they ended up in the hall together.
Perhaps it would help her cause, but she just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t give up her morning peace, couldn’t stand the suffocating energy of the hall when they all started drinking.
Eventually, Vaneshta would stop asking.
“Sorry.” Iryana shook her head. “I like to be up before the sun.”
It was an excuse that worked well enough, although she usually snuck out as soon as Vaneshta returned and then finished the night elsewhere once she was done with her tasks.
Vaneshta nodded, unsurprised, and took her share from Vabihn, weighing it carefully in her hand.
