kscans

Chapter 256 - Episode 3: Part 2, The Flavor of the Field

The next day, Dalgan toured the ranch with Sheila, who had been assigned to guide him. First, they went out to the pasture where he watched the grazing cattle from a distance and swung a scythe. Drenched in sweat under the morning sun, he carried the reaped grass back to the cattle shed.

Inside the shed, he saw cattle eating a special feed. They were clearly a size larger than the ones outside.

"Even their hide feels different." Dalgan said, pressing a hand against the back of a cow as it swished its tail.

"It's because we feed them the wheat and bean dregs we get from Kenwell and Belmini, mixed with grass."

"Sorry for the difficult order."

"It's not that much trouble."

"Next up is the butchering, right." Dalgan said, a little perplexed by Sheila's subdued demeanor, so different from the day before.

"Don't go fainting at the sight of blood."

"I'm not that rusty. Besides, it's unusual to slaughter a cow this time of year, isn't it."

Cattle were generally slaughtered before winter. During the winter months when the pastures did not grow, cattle had to be sustained on hay. This was the very work Dalgan had been doing a moment ago. In other words, storing hay required time and space, and that grass had to be reaped during the summer.

Furthermore, cows that could not be fed sufficiently would grow thin over the winter. That was why they were fattened as much as possible from summer through autumn when the grass grew, then turned into meat in the winter. Meat, too, had its season.

"Three years ago, you had us slaughtering cow after cow out of season for the war. Unlike chickens or pigs, they take time to raise, and they don't birth many at once. It must have been a struggle to get your numbers back up."

"We were paid well for it. We also got priority on new carriages. And this time, the meat is an offering for the new king. Thanks to a business partner who's made it big, my father and I have no complaints." Sheila said. Despite claiming to have no complaints, her expression remained downcast.

"One of them was unlucky enough to break a leg, so that's why."

"That's a real misfortune."

Dalgan followed Sheila to the slaughterhouse. Inside were large axes, sharply honed knives, and hammers for breaking bones. Sheila, holding a bloodstained basin, pointed to a cow that was dragging its leg.

…

……

"Phew, after all that, I guess I might be a little rusty." Dalgan said, wiping the sweat from his brow as he left the slaughterhouse. The smell of blood had seeped deep into his nostrils.

"It wasn't a pretty sight."

"Shut up. I can handle a chicken, but I don't get many chances with a cow." Dalgan said to Sheila, who had regained some of her assertiveness.

"Well, I guess you're not in a position to be involved in things like this anymore. That talk yesterday about the refrigerator and the new market. My father said it too. You're seeing a different world. A great merchant with business in two countries."

"Well, it can't be helped when you're over there. I mean, new information comes in every single day. Things that can turn the business world on its head, like that refrigerator, can pop up out of nowhere."

"I suppose so."

"Well, that's precisely why."

There were things he had to confirm for himself. In less than half a day, that feeling had grown stronger. As he ran forward, looking ahead, he was forced to realize what he had left behind.

"I heard you even attended the princess's wedding."

"Oh, yeah. That was exhausting." Dalgan said, flustered as she suddenly brought up a topic from three years ago. That was one time he had even felt sorry for his junior colleague, who had brought it all on himself. Of course, looking at the beautiful woman in the white dress standing next to him, anyone would think it was a small price to pay.

As for Dalgan, if he were to take a wife, he'd pass on anyone who wasn't a bit more grounded.

"That was because the groom is a junior of mine from the academy and a business partner. It wasn't just me, the guys from Plural and Rilka were there too." Dalgan added hastily, expecting another sarcastic remark. Sheila's profile clouded over again.

"That princess and your junior colleague, they're the ones who dragged you to such a dangerous place, right. That new city, it was a land crawling with monsters until just a little while ago. Even now, it's the first place that'll get attacked if something happens."

Sheila bit her lip.

"Well, you're not wrong. But we're thinking of all sorts of ways to prevent that from happening. I don't really get it, but they're watching the flow of magic like you'd read a river. We've got some incredible people when it comes to that sort of thing. So, dangerous things don't happen all that often." Dalgan said. In truth, three years ago, he had fought back against a massive swarm of insects that had invaded to near the main camp by dousing them with a magic catalyst. It had been mostly ineffective, and just when he thought it was over, Maytyl had saved him. Honestly, he thought he was going to die then.

"I don't understand half of what you're saying."

"You want to come visit sometime."

"Huh."

Dalgan had spoken without thinking to the dejected-sounding Sheila.

"To our city. I think you'd get it if you saw it once. I think you'd understand the two people I just mentioned if you spoke with them, too."

As he spoke, he started to think it wasn't a bad idea. Ricardo would surely want to hear the ranch's opinions on meat distribution. And besides, he found himself wanting to show the girl before him the city and the companions he was now working with.

"I can't just leave my work. Isn't this the time of year when the cows fatten up the most."

"Well, yeah, that's true."

"Besides, a country girl like me can't possibly appear before a princess." Sheila said, brushing a piece of straw from her skirt.

"No, if you got properly dressed up. Whoops, never mind." Dalgan stopped himself, realizing he was about to say something out of character.

"More importantly, did you come up with something. That's why you came all the way out to this remote place, right."

"Oh, yeah. I feel like it's right on the tip of my tongue." Dalgan said, touching his throat. The truth was, he had almost completely forgotten about it, his mind occupied by the ranch work he hadn't done in so long and the girl in front of him.

Still, something felt unsettled in his chest. Just as Dalgan tried to figure out what it was, he heard boisterous voices from outside. At the same time, the smell of smoke and burnt fat reached his nose.

When they went around to the back of the slaughterhouse, the ranch hands were gathered around a bonfire. The savory aroma mixed with the smoke grew stronger and stronger.

"Miss, boss. Just in time. We're about to get started."

An older man, whom Dalgan also knew, pointed toward the fire. Skewers of meat of all shapes, some long and thin, some lumpy, were pointed toward the flames.

"Ah, right. Cleaning up." Dalgan said.

This was how they disposed of the offal that couldn't be sold as product. Some parts, like pig intestines, were used for sausage casings, and there was a market for things like liver paste. But unlike meat, organs were difficult to preserve, and dealing with the blood and innards was a lot of trouble. Many parts were not profitable to sell as products. Such cuts were consumed like this by the people at the production site.

"This is what we work for, you might say." another man said jokingly, raising a wooden cup. It was filled with a foaming, yellow liquor.

"You have some too, boss."

The offered skewer held a whitish meat with complex folds. Sheila started to say, "He doesn't eat," but he stopped her with a hand.

"Yeah, I'll have some."

Dalgan took the skewer, opened his mouth wide, and took a bite.

A complex flavor and a chewiness different from regular meat spread through his mouth. Grilled with just a simple sauce, the taste was far from refined, but it was powerful.

"This is the stomach."

"We've got intestines, too. Some of us think this is even tastier."

Dalgan washed it down with ale.

"It's true, this is the best thing to have with ale. The real pleasure of the ranch."

Dalgan paused mid-sentence and lowered the skewer from his mouth. His eyes were fixed on the pile of bloody organs heaped on a board beyond the fire.

"We're looking forward to the stew tonight. Boss, when it comes to cooking innards, no one on the ranch can beat the missus. Gosh, I wonder who she's honing those skills for."

"This man is above eating things like this now." Sheila said, waving her hands in denial. It was then that a path appeared through the fog in Dalgan's mind. A local ingredient that was difficult to preserve. Not for his station. But.

"Hey Sheila, can I get some of the innards. I want to take them with me when I go back."

"What are you saying, have you really gone soft. This stuff goes bad right away. Oh, but I guess it would be fine with that magic box."

At that, Sheila looked at Dalgan with a stunned expression.

"No way, you're going to serve this. The person you're giving it to is the king, right."

Sheila was speechless. Dalgan accepted another skewer and took a bite.

"King or not, he's human. There's no way he won't understand how good this is. That man in particular might even find it amusing. However."

Dalgan looked directly at Sheila.

"So that I don't fail and get my head chopped off. Will you come to my place and help me out." Dalgan said.

"M, my cooking is."

"I'm not going to serve your cooking as it is, of course. But even an elaborate dish is ruined if you don't know how to handle the ingredients. Please, I need you."

"Um, well."

A blush crept into Sheila's cheeks. The workers, who had been watching to see what would happen, fell silent.

"Well, you know. This could expand our business, I mean. So, if possible, I'd like you to help me for good, but is that no good." Dalgan pressed on. Things like this were all about momentum.

Sheila looked down.

"My father's been saying he wants to get me off his hands, even as a concubine or whatever. If you'll let me eat that ice cream every day, I'll go with you." she said, then turned her face away. Her ears were red too.

"You idiot. A merchant can't let his wife indulge in such luxuries, or the business will go under. Ahem, once a week at best." Dalgan said with a laugh. Sheila, still looking down, gave a tiny nod.

The silent gathering erupted with a cheer. The workers began toasting, teasing the two of them. One after another, skewers were held out to be roasted over the fire.

"Wait, wait, you'll eat the share I'm supposed to take back. Oh, whatever, just bring out the regular meat. It's on me."

At Dalgan's words, the man who had just said "I like this stuff better" cheerfully replied, "Now that's generous." The lid of a barrel of ale was smashed open.

A chaotic celebration began, surrounding the two of them.

◇◇

The next day, the two of them were in a carriage heading north.

"Honestly, this doesn't bode well for the future." Sheila said with an exasperated look inside the swaying carriage.

"Can't be helped. After that, Malto's old man made me drink a ton too." Dalgan moaned, his face pale, as Sheila, her confidence fully restored, rubbed his back.