Chapter 12: Dispute

In the square before the church, firewood was piled high, and amidst the crackling of burning fat, I saw the massive bear corpse vanish into the flames.

Then I spotted the flaxen-haired boy, Nolan—supposedly recovering in the church’s bedroom, yet here he was, dragging his injured arm, arguing with someone by the bonfire.

“No way! These jackal corpses need to be burned too!” Nolan said loudly.

“You kid—”

Facing Nolan was a grizzled, stocky old hunter.

How did I know he was a hunter?

His leather vest and fluffy red fox-fur shoulder cape practically screamed some kind of badge of honor.

The old hunter spoke to Nolan but kept his eyes on the jackal corpses piled on a wooden cart nearby.

“Cyril boy, what do you know? The bear’s one thing—it’s already rotten—but these are eleven big gray jackals. The market for pelts pays in silver coins. Burn them? No way!”

“But—” Nolan tried to argue, but the old hunter ignored him, turning to the Village Chief standing nearby.

“Chief, you decide. I’ve got connections—I can sell these eleven pelts to a city guild for seventy percent of market price.”

“Well…” The Village Chief frowned.

“By rights, whoever hunted them decides—old man like me…”

“Then who hunted them?” the old hunter said gruffly.

“Tell me, who gets to decide?”

“By rights, Nolan was first—” the Village Chief said, thinking.

“Fine! Which one of these gray jackals did you kill? How did you take down these ferocious beasts all at once?”

The old hunter spun, shouting at Nolan.

“No—those jackals weren’t me—” Nolan tried to explain, but the old hunter had no patience for him, pressing the Village Chief.

“There you go! Even if it’s someone else’s call, we can’t listen to this kid’s nonsense and burn them—it’s pure silver! Year-end’s coming, and the baron’s men will collect taxes.

Word is, taxes are going up this year—this money would help a lot…”

“Well…”

The old hunter’s words hit the Village Chief’s concerns, and he looked hesitant, turning to Nolan.

“Cyril, you heard him. Unless you prove these jackals are your kills—”

“Even if they’re not mine, does that mean Emo the hunter gets to decide?” Nolan shot back.

“Chief, he’s just a kid—why argue with him?” Emo said, ignoring Nolan entirely.

“Gray jackal pelts are hot right now. It’s no small sum. Even if I don’t have the right, burning them’s out of the question.”

“They need to be burned—because the one who hunted them said so! She said if they’re not burned, more attacks will come!” Nolan stood firm.

“Utter nonsense!”

Emo’s eyebrows shot up in anger, declaring.

“I’ve been a hunter for twenty years—never heard of such a thing! Who’s this person you say saved you from the jackals? Where’d they come from?”

“Yeah… Emo’s got a point,” the Village Chief said, looking at Nolan.

“Last night, when we patrolled the woods, we saw all those jackal corpses—shocked everyone. Who killed them?”

“I… I know…”

Nolan lowered his head, stammering, unable to speak.

I was enjoying his awkwardness when I noticed him lock eyes with Kritiya.

“It’s her! Kritiya hunted those jackals—she’s the one who gets to decide!”

Nolan suddenly shouted.

“Who?”

Emo followed Nolan’s gaze, spotting Diya and Kritiya standing at a distance, watching.

I clearly saw a smirk of disdain on the hunter’s face.

I knew what he was thinking—by common sense, how could a scrawny underage girl do such a thing?

It was hard not to think Nolan was spouting nonsense.

Emo turned to the Village Chief.

“Chief, the Cyril boy’s probably rattled from last night, messed up his head. Let him rest. Grown-ups should handle this—”

“But who hunted these?” the Village Chief still fixated on ownership.

“Who killed those jackals? By rights, only Nolan saw it—”

“I’m telling you, the Cyril boy’s in shock, got hysteria. I’ve seen it plenty in my twenty years as a hunter. His head’s all muddled—whatever he says or thinks he saw can’t be trusted.

Might even be his imagination. I say, let Scribe Berly treat him again.”

The Village Chief mulled it over, finally showing signs of agreement.

Emo seized the chance, discussing how to handle the jackal corpses.

Nolan clearly wanted to argue more but was waved off with “grown-ups are talking, kids stay out.”

***

“Bro… don’t be mad, come eat—”

In the church, Diya sliced bread and sausage, paired with plain water, calling her brother.

“I’m not mad,” Nolan said glumly, sitting on a pew, arms crossed, staring blankly.

“Then eat already—do I have to feed you?”

Diya said, annoyed, her eyes landing on Nolan’s injured arm, realization dawning.

“Oh—maybe you really do need feeding.”

She dangled a slice of black bread near his mouth, teasing.

“No—stop it.”

Nolan took the bread, trying to tear it to soften in the water, but with one hand, he couldn’t manage.

“Look at you, let me handle it,” Diya giggled, taking the bread back, tearing it, and putting it in a wooden bowl with bits of sausage.

Kritiya sat nearby, eating just as roughly, while I watched Nolan’s embarrassment with interest.

“Alright, don’t be mad. Emo’s arrogance isn’t new,” Diya said, sitting to eat after bustling about.

“I said I’m not mad—” Nolan kept his eyes down, watching the hard bread soften in the water, speaking softly.

“Then why bother arguing with him? You’re just upsetting yourself,” Diya said, cheeks puffed.

“Whether they burn, bury, or sell them, let them figure it out—it’s not our problem.”

“But I’m not mad, it’s just—”

Muttering, Nolan looked up at Kritiya.

“You told me to burn those corpses—but I couldn’t do it.”

Kritiya’s eyes widened blankly.

“Huh? Little Tiya said that?” Diya looked over curiously, her nickname for Kritiya now a cozy “Little Tiya.”

“Was there such a thing?”

Kritiya looked at Nolan, speaking softly.

Of course, she didn’t know—it was just my offhand remark.

Nolan froze.

“You forgot? Last night, you and I—you said, ‘They need to be burned, or more jackals will come.’”

From my view, Nolan’s eyes seemed to glint with stubborn resolve.

Was he too serious?

Kritiya dodged his gaze.

“If you think I said it, then… let’s say I did… that’s that.”

“What does ‘that’s that’ mean?” I thought.

Sure, there was a misunderstanding, but that kind of vague reply would rile anyone up.

Saying “I don’t remember” or “I didn’t say that” would’ve been better.

Yes, in the novel, Kritiya’s awkward tongue offended many nobles in the capital, leaving her with only sycophantic hangers-on.

I saw Nolan staring at Kritiya, then turning away after a long look.

“What the… I only argued with Emo because of what you said… now I don’t even have a reason?”

Kritiya lowered her head, staring at her wooden bowl, silent.

Clap!

A sharp sound broke the quiet.

Diya slapped her hands together, standing.

“Alright! You guys done eating? Give me the bowls—they’re borrowed from the church!”

The blonde girl swiftly collected their bowls, washing them in the church’s basin with practiced ease, clearly familiar with the place.

After tidying, Nolan and Kritiya sat idly on the pews.

Diya grabbed a sand tray and a book from behind the pulpit, picked up a thin stick, and started writing and drawing on the tray.

“What’s that?” Nolan asked.

“Mr. Berly’s daily assignment,” Diya replied.

“Assignment? With the sand tray?”

“Yeah… he said next week I can practice on paper.”

“Well… you’ve got half a year, so keep at it.”

“Brother, where are you going?”

Diya looked up, seeing Nolan heading for the church door.

“I… since Mr. Berly’s not here, I’ll check on the house,” Nolan said, cradling his injured arm and leaving.

Diya opened her mouth but said nothing.

Kritiya silently watched Nolan’s departing figure when a sharp snap sounded.

She followed the noise.

“Ah!”

Diya, distracted, had broken her stick in two, and it rolled off the table.

She hurriedly bent to pick it up, her face slightly embarrassed.

Then she noticed Kritiya still in the church.

“Little Tiya… can you take the basket back? You remember the way, right?”

I felt Diya’s voice tremble slightly, but Kritiya thought nothing, said nothing, just picked up the basket and left, like she used to obey the old maid’s orders unquestioningly.