Chương 97: The Same Griddle

The prisoner exchange was arranged in the middle of the newly repaired bridge. Two lines of soldiers stood at each end, and a white cloth had been spread across the center. Three human prisoners walked over from the demihuman side. From the opposite direction came four prisoners with ears and horns, loosening the cords around their wrists. Kichan leaned against the railing and counted.

"Why do they have one extra?" Theor answered in a low voice.

"Different numbers were captured in the last battle."

"So one of them doesn't get exchanged?"

"Exchanges are not made by matching head counts." Kichan watched the prisoners with an expression that said he did not understand. The exchange looked ready to end quietly. That changed when one human soldier draped his own cloak around the shoulders of a returned comrade. A demihuman soldier across the bridge noticed the tribal mark staining its hem.

"That belonged to one of our warriors who died." The human soldier's hand went still.

"I found it on the battlefield."

"You stripped it from a corpse."

"Your people took even the shoes from human prisoners." Spear points rose. Metal scraped all along both ends of the bridge. The prisoners whose cords had just been removed were pushed back toward their respective sides. Kichan sighed.

"None of you have eaten yet, have you?" No one answered. Kichan unfolded the material board in the center of the bridge. It expanded and pushed aside the white cloth. A griddle rose on one side, while the goat meat he had cleaned that morning went onto the other. Fat struck the heated stone. Sizzle. The smell of meat passed between the spears. The soldiers on both sides glanced toward the griddle.

"Anyone holding a weapon gets none." Kichan turned the meat. A human officer gritted his teeth.

"We are in the middle of a prisoner exchange."

"I know. That's why I'm telling you to eat together."

"You expect us to sit at one griddle with the enemy?" The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Stand there if you don't want any." Argaon had already sat before the material board with an empty plate extended.

"I don't have a sword."

"I didn't say you were eating first." Riphiel unbuckled her sword as well and leaned it against the railing.

"I have followed the rule."

"You two are with me. You eat later."

"I believe you invented that rule just now." The first person to put down a weapon was one of the returned prisoners. A shoeless human soldier named Ern sat on the bridge. Across from him, a demihuman prisoner named Karun, whose horn had broken on one side, lowered his spear and leaned against the railing. Neither could look away from the meat. Kichan divided equal portions between two plates.

"Fight, and I take it back." Another soldier set down a sword. A spear was laid flat across from it, then a shield joined them on the bridge. The sound of iron striking stone grew quieter than the sound of cooking meat. Marten approached from the western end. His armor remained as worn as before, though today he carried a small pouch instead of an empty bowl. Grad appeared from the other side. A sword hung at his waist, but he removed it before the bridge and handed it to an adjutant.

The two men did not greet each other. Kichan pointed to opposite sides of the griddle.

"Sit." Marten asked,"Is that an order?"

"The meat's burning." The two commanders sat with Kichan between them. They did not turn their backs fully on each other, but neither sat at an angle that allowed their eyes to meet. Kichan placed thin slices of mandragora on Marten's plate. The man's hand stopped.

"This year's crop is especially bitter." Kichan looked at Grad.

"Is it usually bitter?" Grad answered after chewing the meat.

"His mouth must be ruined from steeping molly tea too long." Marten opened his water pouch.

"This year's molly has little fragrance."

"Strong tea turns poisonous after a fever."

"I never said I had suffered a fever."

"Of course not." Kichan placed another piece of meat on each plate.

"Can't you just talk to each other?" Both commanders looked at him at the same time.

"Eating comes with a lot of strange rules." Across from them, Riphiel suppressed a laugh. The prisoner exchange ended. Ern removed the tribal-marked cloak and offered it to Karun. Karun studied the cloth for a moment before accepting it.

"I found it below the river." Ern spoke.

"I didn't see a body."

"Understood." That was all. The soldiers from both sides remained on the bridge until sunset. No one raised a spear again. The returned prisoners did not immediately enter their own ranks. One human soldier removed the fur boots he had borrowed from the demihuman camp and returned them. A long-eared prisoner demonstrated on another person's wrist how to tie the bandage he had received in a human treatment tent. Some recognized faces and spat. Some asked after dead family members. Many questions had no answer.

Kichan pushed the remaining meat toward the edge of the griddle.

"If you're going to fight, eat all of this first." The meat disappeared before the fighting began. Haven entered the shelter that night. Empty barrels and firewood filled his wagon. Kichan saw a flat pouch wedged beneath the wood. Inside were dried molly and a short note. Medicine too good to waste.

"Where is this going?" Haven only touched the reins.

"Across the river." Three days later, pain medicine made from mandragora powder rode the same wagon into the human camp. The note carried the same words. Medicine too good to waste. Kichan saw Haven's wagon take a side path instead of the bridge each night and followed it. Batu remained at the shelter, guarding the children's tent. Valkyrie flattened itself against Kichan's shoulder. Dust tried to chase the gleaming wagon rings and was caught by Riphiel. The wagon stopped before an old shed. Haven did not enter.

He left two pouches beside the door, then departed without looking back. One small lamp burned inside. Kichan looked through a gap between the boards. Marten and Grad sat facing each other. Neither wore armor. Neither had guards. On the crate between them stood one cup of molly tea and a pouch of mandragora medicine.