"Here," Darien said, presenting another portion to Thorold, who still eyed it with puzzled caution, unsure how to partake.
In the end, Thorold partook of the preserved tuna, though the iron cask that held it did little to entice him.
"Gods above! How can a humble fish bring such delight?" he exclaimed.
Celeste licked the corners of her lips, still in disbelief.
"There may be some difference between this fish and that from the river behind our land. One is of the sea, the other of fresh water. Yet if it pleaseth the taste, the difference matters little," Darien explained briefly.
He paused, as though recalling another matter. "Tomorrow, I shall recruit men for the Baron's Hall. Aelfric is to be counted among them. I leave Thorold under your watch. Will you see it done properly?"
"Yea," Thorold replied, solemnly tapping his chest, the armor rattling with the motion.
The fish had been discovered by chance.
Darien had not expected these folk to shun it. To the north of Brindlemark, the Elderwyn River flowed around the Thryngard Mountains, a bountiful source of food that Darien would not allow to go unused.
He gathered more than ten parcels of dried grains and a few cured hams, handing them to Thorold.
"Take all these, and see to Galen and the guards stationed yonder," Darien commanded.
"Baron, this is too precious!" Thorold protested, wary of the rare provisions. Though he had never seen such dried grains prepared, their packaging bespoke value, and having tasted the beef sausage with bread, he knew it would suffice.
"I grant you this—when thou dost partake, do so in view of others—secret indulgence is forbidden. Remember this," Darien said.
"Yea, my lord," Thorold answered. Though he knew not the Baron's full design, the weight of command brooked no refusal.
Darien's plan was simple. Brindlemark lacked both food and hands to tend it.
Managing the keep with so few was wearisome; more folks were needed, from the highest steward to the lowest guard.
The way to draw folk was plain—improve their lot. Clothing, meals, housing, and travel would all reflect their worth.
Among these, the surest lure was sustenance: a hearty meal could sway even the most reluctant.
He had brought preserved meats, dried grains, and rich cheeses—foods rare to these lands. To those unaccustomed, the savory taste of a well-cured ham or fresh cheese was irresistible.
Even Darien, who cared little for such delicacies, found his senses tempted by their aroma. In a realm where spices were worth more than gold, no one could resist such bounty.
Knight Thorold, burdened with the provisions, felt a stirring of admiration. In his four days of service, he had yet known the Baron closely, and this Lord differed greatly from the nobles he had met.
Pride, greed, envy, and vanity—such faults were absent.
Thorold saw in Darien the measure of a true noble.
He was approachable, cleanly in habit, and cherished the lives of his people.
Even the rare delicacies he displayed were shared freely, not hoarded. The strange packets he carried were worth more than a few hundred gold coins—far beyond the sale price of all Lord Charles' lands and title.
Yet Darien trusted him implicitly, and that trust warmed Thorold's heart. Even more, the lord provided him with ample dried meats and preserved grains, enough to share with his men. Such generosity Thorold had scarce imagined.
With these thoughts, he journeyed north to the city's stone walls.
Brindlemark's lone two-meter-high black stone wall ran along the Elderwyn River and the wharf, facing the Arvandor Forest.
The pier had suffered greatly from forest beast raids, and though winter approached, its defense could not be neglected.
Knight Galen led a small guard here.
"Captain, I had not reckoned you coming here." Galen called, heartened to see him.
Galen had trained under Thorold, viewing him as an mentor. Tasks of garrison duty were tedious, but the knight's visit brightened the watch.
"I bring thee provisions," Thorold said, waving a bundle in his hand.
"What sort of fare?" Galen asked, curiosity piqued.
Thorold set the bundles down and instructed two soldiers, "Fetch a pot, a ladle, and boil water."
The men obeyed, moving with practiced care. Galen eyed the packets in Thorold's hands—brightly sealed, unlike any cloth or common wrapping.
"You'll see shortly," Thorold said, opening a packet of preserved barley porridge.
Soon, a pot was set over the fire, kindled with tinder and wood. Thorold poured the grains into the boiling water, and as he stirred, the aroma of hearty barley and herbs drifted forth.
"By the saints, it smells wondrous!" Galen exclaimed, the fragrance carrying over the pier and drawing the curious gaze of those nearby.
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🔍 Did you know?
- Barley porridge was a staple in medieval diets. It was cheap, filling, and could be flavored with herbs, making it both practical and surprisingly tasty for workers and soldiers alike.
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