The Sold Bride
The lord’s soldiers brought prisoners to the village. The villagers said they had been waiting for them since the beginning of the year.
It was said that the prisoners, depending on the severity of their crimes, would live as slaves for a corresponding period of time.
Rizi had not been here long, so she did not know much beyond that. In her hometown, there had never been any talk of slaves sent by the lord.
From what she had overheard from the village women, it seemed that instead of sending criminals as slaves, the lord collected slightly higher taxes.
Unlike other places, this village had relatively few women. Because of that, the women were told it was best not to catch the soldiers’ attention, so all the young women hid inside their homes.
Only women who were older or whose husbands had long since died gathered together with the village men to greet the soldiers.
Rizi felt relieved when she was told to stay hidden, thinking that she might otherwise have to entertain the soldiers.
“But…”
They had gotten through this time safely, but there was no telling what would happen next.
What will happen to me from now on?
Suppressing her anxiety, Rizi scooped a little barley porridge into a bowl. The porridge, boiled with plenty of water and no salt, was bland.
It was given out by the village women once every two days. It would be nice if there were more to eat, but even this was something to be grateful for.
Rizi approached the child crouched in the corner and squatted down beside them.
Without a word, she held out the bowl and wooden spoon. The child immediately began eating ravenously. The cold porridge was gone by half in an instant.
The child glanced at her and took a few more bites before reluctantly holding out the spoon.
While Rizi quietly ate the remaining porridge, the child kept watching her.
“….”
When only a couple of spoonfuls remained, Rizi held the bowl out to the child again.
She was hungry too, but it couldn’t be helped.
The memory of hunger in childhood lasts a lifetime—she knew that from experience.
The child buried their face in the bowl and began eating again.
Once a day, in this empty house where no one lived, she shared thin barley porridge with this child.
How long will I have to stay here?
At the uncertainty of the future, her body instinctively shrank.
Winter had always been a hard time with little to eat, but this year was especially difficult.
Many of the men who had been taken to war a few years ago never returned. Even before that, men had been repeatedly taken to the battlefield, leaving a severe shortage of labor for farming.
Fields were abandoned despite there being land. Each year, making a living became harder.
As if that weren’t enough, the increase in monsters caused damage to villages here and there.
Requesting the guild to subjugate monsters required money, and many small villages could not afford it.
Originally, the lord’s soldiers had regularly hunted monsters, but due to the war, their numbers had dwindled, and now most villages had to take care of themselves.
Fortunately, the village where Rizi lived had not suffered from monster attacks.
However, with so many men gone, there were too many women. More and more women passed marriageable age without marrying. Rizi was one of them.
Her younger sister, two years her junior, married at sixteen.
As women’s responsibilities in the household increased, many men preferred strong and healthy brides. Her sister was not only healthy but also skilled in embroidery and housekeeping—a top choice for marriage.
Her older sister, just above her, married without much trouble, though a bit late. Her husband was an older man. As his second wife, she quickly gave birth to a son.
A woman who bore a son, who would one day become a worker, was valued more than one who only consumed dowry.
Among children not much younger than herself, her sister secured her place by giving birth to a son.
Only Rizi, who was neither particularly beautiful nor especially skilled in housework, remained unmarried at home.
Just before winter, her father sold her ten-year-old younger brother to a slave trader. For several years now, boys had fetched higher prices than girls.
Her father tried to add a bit of money and sell Rizi along with him, but the slave trader refused. With women already in excess, there was no reason to take someone like Rizi, who lacked beauty, health, or skill.
In the end, her father sold Rizi to a merchant who sought women to marry off in other villages.
Traveling peddlers who sold goods from village to village often delivered letters or acted as matchmakers.
That merchant had received a request from a man in a distant village who wanted to buy a bride.
A man who couldn’t find a wife in his own village and had to buy one from elsewhere was unlikely to be a good person. Especially one who paid to bring a bride from far away…
While the village men with daughters hesitated, her father quickly concluded the deal. Rizi’s price was one rabbit pelt.
Only after arriving here did she learn that she had been sold as the wife of a mountain keeper. The merchant handed her over to a stranger whose face and name she didn’t even know, then left.
From the moment they met, her husband began beating her—for arriving a day late.
It wasn’t her fault, but she had no chance to explain. She curled up and endured the beating. It must have lasted at least an hour.
Remembering that day, Rizi trembled unconsciously. Even now, the memory frightened her. Sometimes she even dreamed about it.
“….”
The child, who had been eating, suddenly looked at her.
Rizi forced an awkward smile to show she was okay.
Her husband seemed to have duties as a mountain keeper. After beating her for a long time, he shouted at her to prepare food and went into the mountains.
He did not return that evening.
He had a five-year-old daughter from his first wife. After he left, Rizi stayed with the child in the mountain hut for several days.
But the next day, and the day after, he did not return.
Only after several days did they hear that he had been killed by a wolf.
Later, she learned that he had not just been bitten but eaten. There was almost nothing left—only some clothes and a few bones.
Rizi was his third wife. The child said the second wife had been beaten to death. Rizi thought it was fortunate that her husband had died.
But was it really?
Now, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps it might have been better to at least have a husband, even one who beat her. Without a man, a woman was like an unprotected sheep—everything was a threat.
“….”
A small sigh escaped her lips.
The mountain hut was deep in the forest. The village chief said it was too dangerous for just a woman and child to stay there, so Rizi came down with the child.
Since then, they had been staying in this empty house on the outskirts of the village.
They had brought nothing from the hut.
The chief said the village would provide what they needed, so they were not to take anything.
Perhaps it would have been different if her husband were alive, but in a small village like this, the chief’s word was absolute. A sold bride with no roots in the village could not defy him.
Rizi left the hut with only the clothes on her back and the child.
The chief and the village men watched her the whole time, making sure she didn’t hide or steal anything.
Lost in thought, Rizi snapped back to reality at the sound the child made—slurp, slurp. The child was licking the bowl clean.
Rizi gently took the bowl from the child’s hands.
After rinsing the scraped-clean bowl with a little water, she lay down on the straw bed with the child.
To keep warm, they pressed their bodies close together and closed their eyes. Their stomachs growled one after another.
“….”
The child slipped their cold hand into the space between them. In the darkness, their white breaths rose into the air—one larger, one smaller—dispersing endlessly.
“I’m hungry.”
The child muttered softly. Tears welled beneath Rizi’s eyelids.
“I’m sorry.”
If she had handled things better—if she had clung desperately to the chief, or had a personality that could charm men, or at least had some special skill—things might have been different.
Holding the child tightly, she whispered again,
“I’m sorry.”
She had always known she was insignificant.
But now, she was not alone. If she failed, it wasn’t just her life at risk—it was the child’s as well.
Even though the child was a girl, everything in that hut had belonged to her. Yet Rizi, foolish as she was, had failed to protect it.
They might never return to that hut. But even if they did, the important things would already be gone.
The pelts, the stored food—surely someone had already taken them.
I’m really sorry.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
At the sudden noise, Rizi—who had been unable to sleep—jerked upright.
Someone was knocking on the door.
The child clung to her in fright. Rizi was startled as well. Who could it be at this hour?
Holding the child tightly, she stayed silent, trying not to breathe loudly, when a voice came from outside.
“Hey there, it’s me, the village chief.”
“….”
Rizi sat up and quietly approached the door, unsure whether to open it. Would it be better to pretend to be asleep?
But as if he knew she was there, the chief continued speaking.
“No need to open it, just listen. After a meeting that lasted all night, your husband has been decided. He’s one of the men the soldiers brought. We’ve agreed to take him in as the village’s mountain keeper. Don’t worry—he’s not a criminal.”
“….”
Rizi swallowed hard.
It was not uncommon for the chief to forcibly arrange marriages for widows or unmarried men and women. It happened often enough.
Especially for women who had lost their husbands, there was little choice. It was not a world where a woman could survive alone.
In fact, in times like these, being taken as someone’s wife was something to be grateful for—especially when you had a young girl who couldn’t even work.
But she was afraid. The chief said he wasn’t a criminal, but there was no way to know for sure.
Those who became slaves were usually bandits, thieves, or murderers. It was said that minor crimes didn’t lead to slavery.
Her previous husband hadn’t even been a criminal, yet he beat people nearly to death. What kind of man would someone be who had been among criminals?
No…
Her lips moved silently. Could she say that? Could she refuse? She opened and closed her mouth several times, but no words came out.
From the other side of the door, the chief spoke again.
“Keep that in mind and return to the mountain. You’ll go with the man who will be your husband. At dawn, I’ll bring him here.”
No. No. I’m scared.
But her mouth remained shut.
The child behind her tightly grabbed her hand.
What should I do?
Would she be beaten again? The thought terrified her. For a moment, she considered running away—but that wasn’t possible. That would only lead to something worse. A lone woman and a young girl had almost no chance of surviving out there.
And she couldn’t abandon the child.
She couldn’t leave behind this child, who had once starved alone in that cold mountain hut, hiding from her father.
A child who had no one to even share a little cold porridge with. A five-year-old who didn’t even have a name.
I can’t do it.
Tears burst forth.
The child clung to her waist, as if afraid she might run away.
The small, undergrown Rizi and the even smaller child held each other tightly.
Cold wind howled like a ghost, seeping into the house through every crack.