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It was an old, rusted iron pot that looked almost beyond repair. No one knew how long it had been left in that damp place, but today, it was cleaned out once more. A gaunt man scrubbed vigorously at the rust with a large piece of filthy fur, rinsing it occasionally with clear water from a nearby stream and letting the rust-red liquid flow into it.
A noisy commotion arose nearby. Everyone had gathered around the sacks of grain. From time to time, with faces full of awe, they reached in and grabbed a handful as if they had never seen grain before. The plump kernels of wheat filled each person with reverence and awe. They had not seen so much grain piled together in over ten years. The rich, full sensation of touching it was almost addictive.
Several women were washing wild vegetables. For the past month, they had survived entirely on these. Previously, they had been able to eat some tubers as well. The men who went hunting could barely fill their own bellies halfway. Later, once the tubers were gone and no living creature could be found in the surrounding forests for miles, they had to rely on those sour, astringent wild vegetables to fill their bellies. They only dared to eat the wild vegetables they recognized.
The unfamiliar forest was filled with all sorts of plants they did not know. Earlier, an impetuous man had eaten a handful of tender grass with purple leaves, and that very night, he bled from his mouth and nose and died in his hut.
Most of the wild vegetables they recognized were sour and bitter and could not fill their bellies. They could only keep people barely alive. Even then, only strong men and starving children could eat a little more. The most wretched were those unable to contribute labor, who were only able to eat a few scraps and leftovers. Most of them had already starved to death.
Today, however, they had pulled off something big: they had snatched supplies from those terrifying cavalrymen. This idea would normally be dismissed as madness, but it had actually succeeded.
The two who carried the grain back on their shoulders nearly died from exhaustion, yet their eyes brimmed with excitement. To ensure they had enough strength, they were given everything that could fill their bellies the day before this operation. They had not disappointed, bringing back three large sacks of grain enough to eat their fill for several days.
The only unlucky one was Kedo. He had reportedly been shot in the leg with an arrow and captured by the cavalry. By now, his corpse was probably cold.
The iron pot was finally scrubbed clean. The stove, propped up by several stones, was quickly lit. In the forest, almost everything was scarce, but firewood was never in short supply. Gathering dry branches from the ground was enough to cook this meal. Starving, the people cared little for refined preparation. They rinsed the wheat slightly, poured it into the pot, and threw in the wild vegetables as well.
Several men continued to toss firewood into the stove. Their eyes were fixed on the large pot. They stuffed in more wood mechanically, paying no attention to the fact that the stove was already so tightly packed that the flames were nearly suffocated. Only when a slight figure came before them and punched each of them in the head did they finally come to their senses.
No one cared about anything else. They gathered around the three large pots, salivating as they smelled the aroma of cooked grain rising from within. Each held their wooden bowl. Even the men assigned to keep watch around the perimeter kept glancing back at the camp, hoping the meal would cook quickly so they could eat.
Once everything in the pot had boiled into a thick mush under everyone’s excited gaze, the short fellow took a piece of pale yellow crystal from his pocket. He placed it on a flat stone and pressed it hard with a wooden stick until it turned to powder. Then he poured it into the pot. After stirring it thoroughly, he announced that the meal was ready.
Everyone started shouting. No one knew what they were saying. They shoved and crowded desperately toward the pots, thrusting their dirty, tattered bowls forward. Each person tried to get their share of food first. They pushed and shoved those around them, resorting to grabbing and cursing loudly.
As the situation became more chaotic, cries of several children could be heard. Suddenly, the short fellow who had comically cut two holes in a sack and worn it on his head drew a large sword from behind his back. He began striking the crowded people over the head and shoulders with its scabbard.
The leather-wrapped hardwood scabbard mercilessly lashed across their faces and legs.
The intense pain made everyone wail and scatter in all directions. Some didn't even care about their bowls anymore. Clutching their heads, they fled backward. In that moment, no one was thinking about grabbing food. One thin man, running too hastily, tripped and fell, smashing his bowl to pieces against a stone.
Through this unique form of "road education," they finally learned not to crowd so chaotically. They each received food in their bowls one by one. Even the thin man who was unlucky enough to be chosen shared a bowl with the others.
The sound of slurping grew louder and louder. No one paid the slightest attention to anything else. The only thing they cared about was the hot porridge in their bowls.
Everyone ate incredibly fast, especially the strong, burly men. They finished their bowls in just a few mouthfuls, then immediately stood up and rushed to the pots. Using large wooden ladles, they scraped the bottom of the pots until the last drop of broth was gone. They only reluctantly set down their spoons when the pot was cleaner than if it had been washed with water.
The entire camp was enveloped in an atmosphere of harmony. After eating their fill, no one wished to move. Lazily, they lay down on their animal hides. Even those who had been on watch around the perimeter were finally allowed to return and eat. Hot porridge, kept simmering in a small pot just for them, and was now steaming.
The short figure that held considerable authority among them looked left and right. Only after ensuring that everyone had received a meal did he ladle a bowl for himself and slip into his tent.
He removed the coarse sack from his head, revealing short, dark-blond hair that barely reached the back of his skull. Though somewhat disheveled from the sack's pressure, his hair still had a unique texture. His bright, emerald-green eyes were vivid and alert, exuding a cunning sharpness.
Though his face was smudged with dust, the refinement of his features and the smoothness of his skin were evident. No one could have imagined that beneath that tattered sack lay such a handsome youth. Though still youthful, he already had remarkably fine looks.
The youth glanced around vigilantly. Seeing that no one had entered his tent, he began eating quickly. He paid no heed to the layer of black, greasy grime on his wooden bowl.
Using a wooden spoon, he shoveled the food into his mouth rapidly. He ate so hastily that some of it went down the wrong way, into his lungs. Yet, he dared not cough loudly. He could only clamp his mouth shut and emit a few muffled sounds.
After being deprived of proper food for so long, his stomach immediately warmed after receiving a bowl of hot porridge. After one bowl, the greenish pallor on his face, caused by hunger, had faded noticeably. Just as a faint smile touched the youth’s lips and his expression relaxed, a terrified shout made him jump up inside his tent.
Outside, chaos erupted. Everyone was shouting and wailing loudly. Amidst all this confusion, an unsettling sound reached his ears: the dreadful clatter of iron armor scales rubbing against one another.
Merely hearing that sound made it seem as if a thick scent of blood spread into his mouth. The noises outside quickly turned desperate. He slipped the sack back over his head, grabbed his bow and great sword, and darted out.
The moment he emerged, a blinding glare nearly blinded him. When he recovered, he saw a tall figure standing before him. The figure's smooth iron armor reflected the sunlight.
Dejected, the youth squatted on the ground. All of his weapons had been taken away. The terrifying officer stood before him, scrutinizing him with a doubtful expression.
"You're quite good-looking, kid. You don’t look like someone who would do this sort of thing. All right, what’s your name?”
The youth’s expression grew even more despondent. Two syllables were nearly squeezed out through his clenched teeth:
"...Colin..."
“What?”
"I said my name is Colin."
The officer looked at him oddly, his eyes filled with astonishment. Then, he suddenly squatted down, leaned closer, and whispered,
"You're not a woman, are you?"
The youth leaped up at once, like a startled rabbit.
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