The Slime Farmer - 33 Red Lady Ale

It was, again, a busy day for the workers at the docks.

The daily rains had agitated the denizens of the river and the lake. Several species of frog, insect, and worms were in the frenzy of mating season. With how much food was available, the larger fishes and predators in the waters of the Lowpool surfaced in great numbers.

That meant Defi had to load and pull the cart himself.

His lips lifted slightly. What would his family think, to see a scion of their august line pulling a fruit cart quite contentedly?

He could list of a few of them who would expire from the shame. Being a farmer was one thing, an honorable occupation to care for the Creator’s bounty, but a cart-puller was the occupation of slaves and the low caste.

Defi adjusted the woven circular hat on his head, glancing at the now overcast sky.

Rain was imminent.

He settled Turq on his shoulder, protected by the hat’s brim. Though, the slime would likely not mind the coming deluge.

The first delivery for the day was to one of the larger taverns in town, situated at the junction of several lanes of shops. The second was to Dyene and Reon’s bakery.

Defi grasped the crossbar of the pullcart and started moving.

The pullcart was made of wood; it was so constructed that the heaviest of its parts were the wheels. Compared to the carts that draft-animals pulled however, it was light.

Still, Defi had to focus so the momentum of the cart behind him would not get ahead of his pace. He’d already experienced stopping from a jog, only for the wheels of the cart to keep turning and the cart to crash into him from behind.

That had been an embarrassment he did not wish to relive. The client at that time was in fact the same tavern-owner he was delivering to now.

Unluckily for Defi, the man happened to be there when it happened. Adan had quickly helped him up off the ground and did not laugh. Too long, that is.

Defi maneuvered the cart through the alley between the tavern and the tenement next to it. He stopped by the kitchen entrance to the tavern, made sure a wheel of the cart was stopped with a loose cobblestone, then stepped to the door and thumped a fist on the thick wood.

He tilted the hat back. A fat drop of rain splattered on his hand. Then another. Dark spots of moisture started to dot the grey cobblestones and the wood of the cart, then expanded, as if the stone and wood were sucking at the water thirstily.

The door behind him opened.

“Ho, it’s going to pour today eh? Pull that thing around.” Adan waved Defi to follow. The burly man easily lifted the heavy lock to a wooden-gated entryway some steps from the kitchen door and waved Defi in.

The gate opened to a small covered yard filled with plants. There was another door into the tavern tucked in the rear of the yard.

Adan helped Defi settle the cart as the rain started in earnest, the heavy drops of falling water sounding like a distant roar on the shingles above.

Defi thanked the man. The rain usually fell later than the deliveries, so he’d never seen this yard before.

“No bother, no bother.” Adan was already inspecting the fruit in the baskets, then placing them into a large washing tub.

Defi settled back against a tiered series of flowerpots to wait, placing his hat on one of the baskets and holding Turq in his arms.

The tavern-owner always looked preoccupied, as if his thoughts were constantly distant from the present. With the carefully-shorn beard and the contemplative air, if his body were not so muscled the man could be mistaken as a scholar rather than a tavern-owner.

Adan liked to scrutinize the delivery carefully. It was why Defi preferred when Rocso, Adan’s father, took delivery.

With Adan, Defi had to wait until all six baskets of the order were examined.

The door at the rear of the covered yard creaked open.

Defi glanced toward it, then stood to greet the elderly Rocso.

The wrinkles on the man’s face deepened as he smiled, evidently a person used to laughter. Despite the silvered hair and the limping step, the old man stood straight as a young tree reaching unencumbered to the heavens; the posture of one trained to combat and horsemanship.

The old man’s gaze was focused and sharp, quite unlike his son. The only point of similarity, if relating to looks, was the stormy blue color of their eyes and the neatly-trimmed beards.

The older man brightened as he looked at the younger. “Adan, Isene is here.”

Adan sent a doubtful look at the old man, then silently returned to the fruits as if the older man’s words were a passing breeze, easily ignored.

The brightness of the elder’s gaze only shone more, this time in amusement and slight indignation. He turned to Defi, lamented loudly. “What a poor man am I, that my only son won’t give me even one grandchild.”

Adan made a wordless sound of disdain.

Yet, the atmosphere was not hostile. Defi had the feeling this conversation happened all the time, in infinite variation.

Rocso sighed in mostly mock-despair. “Come inside, young Defi. We have a new ale. Leave the lonely silence to this overly picky brat.”

“You honor my ancestors by invitation, elder, but I would be remiss in duty to linger long.” Defi said politely. “It is no hardship to stay in silence and with Turq here, there is no loneliness that would dare show for even a moment.”

The old man laughed and clapped Defi on the shoulder. “So formal? Don’t waste the flowery talk on this idiot.” He eyed Turq. “A slime, hm? I had one as a pet when I was a child. Surprisingly good eating, if you’re starved. I don’t suppose there is another you could part with? An old man like me could get lonely, you know.”

Wasn’t he just talking about his son’s loneliness? How did it become suddenly his?

Also, Defi had never even considered the edibility of a slime.

Possibly something to look into.

“Wild-caught slimes often have toxic substances in their bodies.” Thinking about the thirty slimes he summoned this morning, Defi wouldn’t mind giving out a pet. But still, considering the man’s words, he gave a warning.

“I’m not going to eat it. Didn’t I say I wanted a pet? If you salt the juices out, it makes a nice change from the daily gruel. Pah, who said soldiers couldn’t cook? In my day, we didn’t even have a flamestones to cook on. All our rations were cloudgrain, cheap ale, and salt. I tell you, we became the best foragers in the land. We made do! Kids these days are so picky! Are we not Ascharonian?”

Somehow, him saying he wouldn’t eat the slime was not at all believable.

“I’ll bring one with the next delivery,” Defi decided. If the old man ate it, Defi would have a point of concrete data on taste and texture of slime flesh.

“You will? Good, good, not even beast procurers could be bothered selling slimes these days. Will one crescent do?”

“I’m not planning on selling them,” Defi refuted. “Please take it as a gift.”

The old man steered Defi toward the door. “You really should try our new ale. The rain is heavy, wait for the worst of it to pass. Don’t worry about the fruit; Adan won’t touch the baskets he shouldn’t.”

That was in fact why he wanted to stay in the yard. If the baskets he delivered later to the bakery were picked through, with only the lower quality fruits remaining, it would be embarrassing. Of course, the fruit sorted for delivery were the best from the picking but they couldn’t be perfect every time.

He didn’t show the slight awkwardness he was feeling, only asked, “What sort of fruits is the good sir looking for? Possibly, we can choose the fruits more carefully from the orchard for you.”

Rocso looked thoughtful. “That would help.”

Adan tilted his head, slightly frowning. He pulled two fruits out of a basket. “Which of the two has less sweetness?”

“The larger,” said Defi promptly. “The larger one’s flesh is blander than the smaller ones, but the skin retains the tangy flavor so it’s more refreshing. However, these particular baskets were specially picked from the sweetest trees in the orchard. If you want zaziphos with more tartness than these, it can be arranged.”

Adan nodded. “Add two baskets of the sourest fruit to the regular order.”

“Of course,” Defi said. “You’ll get the additions starting next delivery. If there are any changes to flavor you want, please tell me or Sarel. Zaziphos fruit has a range of sweetness.”

Adan looked a lot happier. He turned to wash the fruits he’d inspected, not eyeing the four baskets that were to go to the bakers anymore.

“Hm,” Rocso maneuvered Defi through the door firmly. “I didn’t know Sarel grew different varieties.”

Were there different varieties of zaziphos? All the trees in the orchard looked the same. Defi only knew that Sarel cared for the different zones specially.

“More than different varieties, the difference in the land could also affect flavor.” Garun told him once, that despite being the same tree, a mango planted in the south was sourer than a mango grown in the north.

“I see.” Rocso nodded. “I’ll trust in you and Sarel then. Adan is looking for another new ale. A sourer one would be good for summer, wouldn’t it?”

“Didn’t you already have a new one?”

“To stay on top, a business must always look for new things. Our ale selection is the best in the area. No tavern even in Ecthys can boast this many original flavors. Of course, the meals can’t change as fast, but they are hearty and filling. Our cooks and recipes can’t be considered poor either.” Rocso waved in demonstration at the two people focused on stoves and several ordinary kitchen workers flitting in and out of the kitchen.

Rocso brought him through the kitchen and to a table near the long counter.

Defi was happy to sit down. His morning had been more exhausting than usual, and he had not properly rested since the mid-day meal.

“It’s not too busy right now, so ask whatever you want.” Rocso pointed to the day’s specials listed the large board near the counter. “Of course, this time, the cost is the tavern’s responsibility.”

Defi protested immediately. “I can pay for myself, elder. You are too kind to strangers.”

The old soldier snorted. “Strangers? You saved my son some work. We didn’t even think to ask for sourer fruits. Take it as gratitude. For the pet slime I’m about to get as well. Are you refusing? If you don’t buy at least three dishes, I’ll see it as offense against my recipes, you know.”

Said like that, there was no way for Defi to protest more. “Then, I’ll take advantage of your kindness and eat a lot, elder.”

The laugh lines on Rocso’s face creased in satisfaction.

“I’ll get the ale. I’d like your thoughts on it.” He waved to a server as he left, then gestured to Defi’s table.

Defi pretended not to notice, studying the listed offers on the writing board.

He glanced around at the diners.

The food was truly hearty; a serving could feed two people. The old man wanted him to eat three of those? That respectable-looking elder, with the kind wrinkles about his face, was actually a fiend.

He felt like he wouldn’t be surprised if it suddenly became the case. After the invasion, and he learned that the simple people in town actually weren’t so simple, a tempter from the depths of Gehen and a saint from the heights of Awenn living in town wouldn’t be surprising.

Unsurprisingly, there was no meat on the menu.

He sighed. Just as well. It would pale to the memory of Sarel’s spiced pork and beans anyway.

The server came to attentively stand by Defi’s table as he contemplated which dishes wouldn’t burst his stomach. The more expensive the dish, the fewer the volume of ingredients in it, right?

“The moon mushrooms and knife-clam soup, the spice-grilled sunstripe bass with starcherry sauce, the deep-fried blue shrimp.”

The others were average in price, but the bass was the most expensive thing on the menu. In addition, it seemed like a regular item. It caught his eye because of the starcherry sauce, really. He wanted an excuse to ask where the tavern got their supply.

“Good choices.” Rocso thunked a large stein of ale on the table.

The stein was made of glass, taller and somewhat more delicate-looking than the usual mugs.

Defi had always been impressed by the crafts of this other world. Glass in Ontrea could never be so clear; it didn’t even have the faint greenish tinge of natural unstained glass. He flicked a finger against the glass, confirming the sturdiness despite the gentle flowing design.

Within the glass, the ale was red with a transparency that made one think of a gem, a ruby. A fine foam, slightly golden, topped the ale, giving the entire thing an elegant presence.

“Our newest ale, the Red Lady!”

Defi paused, studied the presentation again. “Are you sure you want my opinion on a drink you made for women?”

The elderly lifted his hands, palms up, a shrug. “Women, men, is their tongue not the same?”

“Judging by the fact that you developed this, no.”

“Ah, I cook what has always tasted good. I leave the drinks to Adan.” The old man eyed the red-colored ale. “This is sweeter though? I prefer ginvar.”

Defi nodded, then took the handle. To his surprise the ale was warmed. The scent was aromatic without being too heavy.

The alcoholic liquid slid smoothly down his throat, warming him up. The bitter notes were evident as the ale touched his tongue, then a sweet fruity aftertaste bloomed to diminish much of the bitterness.

Defi wasn’t a drinker of ale, but it tasted good.

Rocso smiled when Defi told him so.

“Not so bitter, but not too mild either. You can taste the zaziphos in the sweetness. Don’t sell it only to women, elder. I’d like to have the option to drink it from now on too.”

“It is a pain telling people that it’s only for the ladies when they order,” Rocso sighed agreement. “It’d be easier just to sell it to everyone. Whoever doesn’t like it shouldn’t order it then. That Adan, saying we should be more welcoming to a wider variety of people…this place used to be a proper hard-drinking tavern…”

“Was it a better tavern then?”

Rocso glanced at a family of five sharing dishes at one of the larger tables, laughter that was clear as tinkling bells coming from the children. “It had its benefits. But I’m old, and the direction the next generation is taking is interesting. I would like to see more.”

Defi followed his gaze. He doubted the parents would let those young children enter what he imagined Rocso termed a ‘proper’ tavern.

“Oi, barmaster, another of the blackrock!”

Rocso nodded at Defi. “Enjoy the food. Berolt is the server assigned to this area. Just tell him what you need.”

He returned to the drinks area, laughing at the people waving empty steins at him. “Are you so impatient? What beauty is waiting for you back home.”

His sally was met with a round of similar insults. Rocso was not fazed. He joked with each customer as he poured drinks.

Defi’s attention on the raucous scene at the bar was interrupted by the server placing a large bowl of clam and mushroom soup before him. The savory aroma wafted around them. As Defi expected, he would be stuffed if he finished it, forget the other two dishes.

The server Berolt next slid a plate before Defi, followed by a bowl and spoon. “Anything else, young sir?”

He opened his mouth to say no when the door to the tavern crashed open. A slight figure rushed in.

Defi recognized the child. The sable crab girl…Renne, wasn’t it?

Her eyes, panicking, looked around the tavern. She twitched at the looks bent on her from the other customers, but did not falter much. Her gaze fell on him, and she looked surprised but cautiously relieved.

“Brother,” she called, voice tight, slightly shaky. “I’ve been looking for you.”

**

Chapter End

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Notes:

Flamestone – the primary heating element of the flame-less stove. Can technically be used as a grill/broiler, but much safer used with a stove to control/contain the heat. A stone, etched/engraved with emblems to create heat.

Gehen – the place where the evil of the world lies, according to the religion of Ontrea. A place that corrupts.

Awenn – the place where the good of the world lies, according to the religion of Ontrea. A place that exalts.

Ginvar – a twice-distilled spirit, flavored mainly by the bitter-sour notes of junver berries.