Arc II – Agrarian Revolution
Chapter 4 – The Old Man in the Forest
Day 26 Since the Summoning
Kamelia was standing to the side with Lorgi, talking to the local village head and inquiring where this old man Zogen was.
Alan stood on the grass with his hands clasped behind his back, simply looking up.
They were standing right at the foot of the Southern Mountains, where the village of Gormeln was located.
The mountains loomed before Alan, illuminated by the bright sun against the backdrop of a blue sky.
The low hills were green, gradually turning into brown cliffs the higher they went.
‘What beauty…
it’s so beautiful…
I feel like I’m back in my native Austria…
I wonder how Jake and Vanessa are doing right now?
They’re probably worried that I disappeared…
Professor Brown is probably worried about me too…
fuck…
if only I could send them some kind of message…’
He shook his head and fixed his gaze on the mountains again.
‘I can’t, they’re so beautiful…
I’d live here, build a little house, admire the scenery…
instead of all this.’
Alan continued looking at the mountains, and a small tear rolled down his cheek at the beauty of the sight.
He quickly wiped it away and walked over to Kamelia.
“So, what’s the word, Your Grace?”
All three of them turned around.
“My lady, who is this young man?” asked the gray-haired village head.
“This is my…
personal advisor, Lord Gothwald.”
The old man’s gaze lingered on Alan’s simple clothes, but he remained silent and bowed to Alan.
“Do you have any further questions, Your Grace?”
Kamelia shook her head.
“No.
You may go.”
The village head bowed once more and quietly left.
The countess turned to Alan.
“So, this Zogen lives in that house over there, not far from the square.
Shall we go?”
Alan nodded.
“Let’s go.” All three of them moved toward Zogen’s house, while the rest of the guards remained on the outskirts of the village.
‘Alright…
he’s not a hermit living in a tree hollow, that’s good at least.’
They approached an inconspicuous, completely ordinary wooden house.
Alan stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door.
A few seconds later footsteps were heard, and the door opened.
Before them stood a short old man with a short gray beard and a receding hairline, dressed in a simple shirt, trousers, and barefoot.
His gaze immediately caught on Kamelia, and he instantly bowed.
“Greetings.
How may I be of service?”
“I am Countess Armenas, and I have business with you.”
Zogen froze for a second.
“Coun…
forgive the mess!
I did not expect you to come!”
Kamelia raised a hand.
“At ease, this is not a visit.
You are Zogen, are you not?
We need to talk, my advisor wishes it.” She nodded at Alan.
A minute later, the three were sitting at the table.
Alan, Kamelia, and Zogen.
Lorgi remained standing by the doors inside the room.
The house was quite ordinary, a hearth in the corner, a small bed, a shelf with various herbs.
Alan placed his hands on the table.
“Zogen, I heard you know a thing or two about plants, is that right?”
The old man nodded.
“Yes, my lord, I do.”
“Then I’ll get…
straight to the point.
Do you know which plants are edible, but hardly anyone actually eats them?”
Zogen blinked.
“Um…
yes, of course I know, but…
permit me to ask, my lord, why does this interest you?”
Alan steepled his fingers.
“There is a famine in the county right now, the harvest is poor, and we need to feed the people with at least something for the time being.”
“By the way,” Kamelia interjected, “I noticed that the people in this village are doing…
better than the rest.
Thin like everyone else, yes, but more…
lively, perhaps?”
Alan cast a sidelong glance at her.
“Really?” He looked at the old man.
“I assume you’re the one who did that.
You know which plants are edible and therefore the famine…
isn’t tormenting you as much, right?”
The old man froze for a second, his hands gripping his knees tightly under the table.
“You are very perceptive…
yes, while there is no harvest yet, the winter supplies have almost run out, but…
it is summer outside, and the forest provides much food at this time.” He swallowed and bowed his head.
“I beg you, Your Grace…
we were simply hungry…
we did not wish to steal from your forest…
we simply…”
“I am not like my father,” Kamelia said firmly, maintaining a stone face.
“I am not going to punish you for trying to survive.
And I did not come to punish you and your village; I want you to share your knowledge with us, so we can tell other people what they can eat to survive the famine.”
Zogen froze with his head bowed.
He stayed silent for about ten seconds, then slowly lifted his head.
His gaze fell on Alan, who simply nodded silently.
The old man sighed.
“Very well…
I will show you these plants, and where to look for them.” He glanced out the window.
“There is still much time until sunset, we can go right now, if you wish.”
“Perfect!” Alan said, and then turned to Kamelia.
“Ka…
Lady Armenas, did you bring something to write with?”
She nodded.
“Yes, there is parchment and a quill with ink in the saddlebag.”
Half an hour later, Alan, Kamelia, Zogen, and Lorgi were walking through thegreen forest.
The old man peered intently at the ground, then pointed a finger.
“Look!”
Everyone turned to the spot he was pointing at.
Long, straight leaves, about knee-high, were growing there.
“This is called konshitaya, it usually grows where there is water underground.
The leaves are useless, but the root is very filling…
even if not the tastiest.”
Lorgi bent over, resting his hands on his knees.
“Konshitaya, you say…
seen this before, but did not think it was edible.
It’s just…
it looks like just leaves and that’s it, does this thing have a large root?”
Zogen nodded.
“Yes.
Could you pull it out?” He shook his hand.
“I am no longer young, I lack the strength.”
Kamelia nodded silently to Lorgi; he walked over, grabbed the leaves right at the ground, and slowly began to pull.
The plant began to rise upwards, slightly scattering the soil, and finally the captain pulled out a fully rounded root vegetable, the size of a fist.
“Wow…
big thing.”
Alan took a step closer, examining the plant in the guard’s hands.
“Hmm…
you could get a decent meal out of that.”
Zogen nodded.
“Filling, as I said.
But…
do you see these seeds where the root begins?
You must toss a few of these back into the soil and bury them, so a new konshitaya will grow next year.”
By early evening, all four were standing on the outskirts of the village; about a dozen different plants were piled in a heap.
Zogen stepped away to the well for a drink of water.
Alan was already holding the quill and parchment; he placed it on a stump and started writing.
“Alright…
let’s start with this…
konshitaya…” he began to write, and after three words the ink ran out.
He blinked.
‘Fuck…
I’ve never written with a quill before…
my third fucking amazing medieval experience after the dungeon and chafing my balls in the saddle.
How do you even write with this piece of shit?’
He pressed down a little harder, and pierced the parchment, smearing the ink across it.
“Oh, fuck it!”
Kamelia sharply turned around from her horse.
“What happened?”
He held up the quill.
“How do you even write with this fucking thing?”
Kamelia frowned.
“You do not know how…
very well, let me show you.” She took the quill, winced slightly looking at the ruined parchment, and brought the quill to it.
“I thought you were literate.”
Alan threw his hands up.
“I am literate!
I just don’t know how to write with a quill!”
Kamelia blinked.
“Ah..
what did you write with in your world?”
He sighed.
“Too long to explain.
It’s a…
small stick that you can move in any direction and it leaves a trail of ink.
It’s called a pen.”
The countess nodded.
“Uh-huh…
I understand.
Which means this ‘pen’ is very simple.
It is not quite the same with a quill; I personally spent a whole year learning to write with one.”
Alan opened his mouth.
‘A whole fucking year?
Holy shit…
I didn’t know that medieval fact…
adding that knowledge to the bank.’
“Alright…
then you write it down, I don’t have time to learn and ruin the parchment.”
Kamelia began to write.
“And how were you planning to write anyway?
You do not know this language…” she froze.
“Speaking of the language…
remember in the village you made that peasant woman, the girl’s mother, walk back and forth and talk.
You never explained what that was.” She turned to him.
“Will you explain it now?”
Alan scratched the back of his head.
“Oh…
completely forgot about that.
Alright, as you know, during the summoning I…
well, I sort of already know your language and understand you, right?”
The countess nodded.
“Yes, it has been so with all heroes.
What next?”
“When that peasant woman went to the barn for the honey, and I shouted something to her from the house, and she shouted back…
and we didn’t understand each other, I heard your actual language, and you heard my actual language.
I figured it all depends on the radius…
the distance, I mean.
When a person is close – I understand them, when they’re far – I don’t.
That’s the deal.”
Kamelia blinked.
“Wow…
I did not even know heroes had such a limitation.” She continued writing.
Alan stood over her, looking at the parchment.
‘What a writing system they have…
neither the Latin alphabet nor even Eastern characters look like this.
It looks more like Sumerian pictograms.
Hmm…
she suddenly remembered her questions, what a good memory…
oh, right, I was supposed to ask her something too.’
“Listen, Kamelia, what are shinnors?”
Kamelia didn’t look up from writing.
“Wow, where did you hear that name?”
“Dunko mentioned it when he was trying to talk me out of going into the forest.
He said there could be jerkoses and shinnors there…
well, I’ve already seen a jerkos, but what kind of beasts are shinnors?”
Kamelia stayed silent for a second, as if mulling something over, then continued writing.
“Shinnors are…
how should I explain it to you…
small beasts, slightly larger than cats, completely dark green with stripes, very long tails, sharp teeth and claws, large ears.
They usually sit in the trees in the forests.
They frequently attack people if one enters their territory.”
Alan nodded.
‘Uh-huh…
so shinnors are local analogues of snow leopards or lynxes…
and green, no less.
For camouflage in the trees, I guess?
But that’s inconvenient in the winter, they’d light up like Christmas trees.
Or do they change their coats like hares?’
His thoughts were interrupted by Zogen, who had already returned with a bucket of water.
“My lady, do you wish for a drink?”
“I will not refuse.”
Alan cast a sidelong glance at the water.
“Where did you get it?”
Zogen blinked.
“From the well…
why?”
Alan didn’t answer; he squatted over the bucket, smelled the water, inspected it, dabbed a finger in, and tasted it.
“Well…
seems clean.” He took a mug from Zogen, scooped some up and drank the water, then passed it to Kamelia; she drew some fresh water and drank, then handed it to Lorgi, and thus the mug went around.
“Very well, Zogen,” Kamelia said.
“I have written down some of the plants, dictate the rest, as well as how to prepare them and what to do with them.”
Late that night, Alan was lying on the floor of the barn, which was lined with hay.
‘No, I get it, not much space and all that…
but why the fuck straight to the barn floor?!
What, am I some random asshole or something?!
I’m an advisor!
…
Haha, yeah, yeah, an advisor he says, stop putting on an act, Alan.’
He put his hands behind his head and sighed.
‘Okay, we have eleven plants that aren’t typically eaten much, but they are edible.
We prepared a few…
oh god, it was so terrible.
I mean, I’m actually full, but this…
this is just so fucked up, I almost threw my guts up from the taste…
but the peasants eat it somehow…
if only we could make it a little tastier…
and even better, more caloric.’
He sat up abruptly.
‘Tastier…
what makes dishes tastier?
SAUCES!
The cheapest condiment therecould be…
is mayonnaise!’
Alan clasped his hands behind his back and started pacing the barn under the moonlight shining through the windows.
‘Mayonnaise is a very primitive thing, but at the same time it makes dishes tastier, and it’s a calorie bomb!
It could solve several problems at once.
One: even though the peasants can eat this shit, if it tastes better, morale will go up.
People aren’t machines that you just need to refuel and that’s it.
Two: mayonnaise has a shitload of calories, and in famine conditions, that’s critical!’
He smacked his fist into his palm.
“It’s settled!
Tomorrow I will officially introduce the recipe for mayonnaise in this dump!”
He froze.
‘Only where do I find all the ingredients here?
I’ve seen chickens, oil…
I think we can find oil, even the cheapest kind…
but it’ll probably taste like shit.
Unless…
I mask it all with garlic?
I think that works.
Garlic could definitely provide some kick, which stimulates the appetite, and mask low-quality products…
alright, so pure mayonnaise is off the table…
fucking Middle Ages with their shortages.’