We used to play together.

Me and the witch’s daughter, Alice.

We would do it at a time when I was too young to understand what she was.

And then one day she mounted me and hit me in the face. I don’t remember what happened, but there was so much blood in my clothes I thought it shouldn’t be possible for me to have survived.

It was only many years later that I discovered why she did that. That Matthew, my cousin, had been the one to denounce her mother to Lord Blackscale.

So many times I cursed the day when he walked to the new lord’s horse, kneeled and said, full of pride: “Milord, there’s an abnormal in this village!”.

I cursed it when I first got pregnant and hadn’t the witches’ healing spells and Alice’s medicines to keep it inside of my stomach. When I lost it.

I cursed it when so many of my children died, one after the other.

I cursed it when the lord declared she would no more be considered an abnormal, and that he would give our village walls as an apology.

And I cursed him as well. So many times. As I was also cursing him when my breath was roughed, when I was coughing blood.

When the witch came and healed me.

I don’t think I can forgive my husband. I may be just the second wife of a widowed cousin, but I didn’t deserve all I went through.

And I don’t deserve having to give all of good we have to the witch, as payment for my husband’s stubbornness.

Even if I’m just a cousin who couldn’t marry and then became his second wife, don’t I deserve more? Don’t I deserve some peace now that he has gone and given up that stupid pride of his?

When Maurus said the witche’s grandson wished for honeycombs I felt my heart skipping a beat.

We can’t deny it. The witch loves this boy and gives him everything he wants. At a certain point his mother even made hominy for him.

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Still I don’t want to give him anything.

His family came to Maurus’s tenth birthday. To congratulate him.

Since then I have been able to trade with people from the village. Cinnamon from last year got traded for salt. Meat from a few birds Matthew caught we traded for rice. I couldn’t get a fair price, but still, that’s more than we ever could get.

The witches’ payment is a ten-years-long debt. We have been cutting on our meals already, or we won’t be able to pay her.

Still, if not for this boy’s wishes and desires, the witch may very well lose interest on us. If I don’t give this boy what he wants, then our life may become harsher.

That’s why I’m thinking if I shouldn’t smash this thing in the ground.

Maybe if I do it the boy will be mad, but his grandmother will forgive us. If I pretend to slip and smash it as I fall.

They are here. Maurus is opening the door. I’m ready to launch myself in the ground. I won’t give this to the boy. I won’t let him have what should be ours. I won’t lose it because of his grandmother. 

“Aunt Ullma, this is for the honey!”

I gave him the honeycomb.

Two chickens are more than what someone would usually get from a single honeycomb. Chickens lay eggs after all.

Maybe that’s what Alice would get for selling one?

Everyone gives them preferential treatment after all.

If I sold it to one of the hunters, then I might get some pieces of meat. Gizzards, a monster’s heart, maybe some pork intestines and so on.

And here are two chickens.

Take the comb child. It’s only fair.