The Slime Farmer - 97 I'll Have to Trouble You

Defi saw Vesia tense. She took a deep breath and leaned forward to catch Dahall’s attention.

“Isn’t it great?” She asked, her tone falsely blithe. “I got my promotion and my first account in the same day. And this is like a celebration dinner. It’s all a dream, isn’t it?”

Dahall looked genuinely interested. “They promoted you just to take his account?”

“I asked that too!” She was suitably emotional. “Mestre Darred said I have put in the necessary time and work, what with the company being busy for so long.”

“Oh?”

“Mestre Tennar said we needed more spice-mixers.”

Dahall took on a look of surprise.

“A spice-mixer and a recently promoted clerk,” the man laughed. “and yet you both already met the manager of the company and the lady owner. What luck you have.”

“Bad luck,” Defi openly grimaced. He knew what Vesia was doing, trying to lower his seeming value to the company. “The lady wanted to test my tongue and my nose.”

Vesia breathed a brief laugh. “That was funny. I couldn’t eat.”

Gossips were everywhere.

By this time, Bluzand’s competitors would have known that Sarel had a meal with some unknown and a clerk in Watersiders. With Gylen Dahall’s connection to Madame Caria, he would also know that company gossip put Defi in seclusion for a few hours in Tennar’s office and that he had permission to wander around the rare spice aisles in the company warehouse.

“It was punishment for causing a commotion in the building.” Defi added.

“How interesting!” Dahall looked between them with a smile. “You must have a very good tongue. Would you indulge your host’s curiosity?”

Defi mentally translated that to: ‘You think you can fool me with talk? I’ll test your claims until you die.’

Dahall did not wait for their agreement. A single glance to a servant and sure enough, an army of small plates with a tiny pile of powder or a smear of paste in the center were soon arrayed before Defi.

On the lip of each plate was a delicate silver spoon, thin and long-handled, with a bowl so small that looked like it was made to feed fairies.

“Isn’t that too much?” Vesia goggled – there were over a dozen samples.

Even Chomar, who had been determinedly silent throughout, made a noise of dismay.

“He…he is still to be trained, you know.” Vesia tried to salvage the situation.

Dahall waved their protests away with a gentle look. “You do not have to be humble. For the Lady il Camarene to acknowledge you, you must be a flavor savant, with a naturally sensitive tongue. These are, of course, different than what might be at Bluzand but I believe you will surprise me.”

That was: ‘Haha, I got you, you peons.’

Defi gave the man his most believably innocent smile. “You flatter me, sir. I shall do as best I can.”

Vesia looked like she wanted to say something, but bit her lip.

Defi pulled the first small plate toward him, a tiny pile of green, gold, and yellow flakes. He dipped the delicate spoon into the spice mix, not scooping it up but letting the spices cling to the surface of the metal.

He brought the spoon close to his nose.

The aroma swept through him like the sea greeting him with a wave.

He licked the small bit of spice from the spoon. It tasted slightly familiar.

He paused.

The image of a house formed in his mind, an ever-fruiting orchard just a few steps away, and several pools of water being filled and drained by a violently rushing river.

He put the spoon down. The slight twist in the Current said that these were mystic spices.

“Delicate and powerful,” he started. “A great choice to complement all kinds of seafood and white meats like the breast of poultry. There are five components of this spice? I do not know the exact names, but they go very well with each other. Oh, wait, is one of them Southern Songbark? It tastes like it. If you add something earthier, like Garginger, you can make it strong enough to enrich the lighter cuts of meat, like pork and poultry.”

He glanced at the empty glass beside him. The server immediately took the cue poured pale wine into the receptacle. Defi sipped the wine to remove the taste of spices in his mouth.

“It’s a spice-mix that tastes like it’s mostly made of infrigidants, so would not recommend it to those who are of cold humors. It’s also why adding something like Garginger, which is a calefacient, would make the taste better for more people.”

The whole table stared at him. Obviously none of them were expecting him to say so much and so little at the same time.

Haha, he thought, wryly mocking himself.

He had eaten both the highest and the lowest examples of Ontrean cuisine. Not even mentioning that a good number of his meals since he entered this world were made at the hands of a master chef who had once been the foremost tyrant of the imperial kitchens, a chef acknowledged by the emperor.

All that and yet, this was all he could say about a spice mix that was similar to something he was sure he’d encountered before.

He was lucky in that his tongue was trained to know good cooking from bad.

As for the finicky details, he was not a chef and had no strong wish to be one. He only knew enough to cook for himself.

Sarel said that it was only because of his tongue that he managed to be an average chef.

Heh, he knew enough of this world by now that those words from a master chef of her cranky disposition meant he cooked better than half the hopefuls that entered the imperial chef examinations.

It did not mean he would pass said exams, but it was still an unexpected evaluation.

He was content with that, usually.

At a time like this, however, Defi wished he could remember more of Sarel’s methods.

“It is Southern Songbark. Very nice.” Dahall was now looking at him with more interest.

Interest was good, Defi told himself; the man would believe their story more if this was enough to catch interest.

Dahall motioned to the next plate.

Defi set the first plate aside and picked up the next.

There was no time to waste.

*

By the time the three of them were escorted out, they had already been in the house for hours.

Chomar’s bunkrey was standing serenely in front of the house gates. Chomar, upon spotting it, looked relieved and immediately ran to check on his horse.

He leaped up to the driver’s seat. “Let’s skiddy on out of here, you two!”

Vesia and Defi took their seats with no ceremony and they took off at a canter. A few shadows around the house moved suspiciously.

“We have to hurry,” Defi said the moment the house was out of view.

“He was stalling us, wasn’t he?” Vesia was pale.

Defi nodded.

What had been done?

What had been done in the hours that they’d been trapped in that house?

A faint dread coursed through him.

“It shouldn’t be so bad, if he let us go so easily.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

Even with suspicion on Madame Caria, there was no evidence but Vesia’s word that she was with Gylen Dahall. The man knew it too.

Defi leaned out the carriage. “Chomar, stop at the Kings.”

The Maze of Kings was on a high point, a rocky formation that rose above part of the city. High enough to see the harbors, though the western view of the river was somewhat hindered by the bulk of the citadel fort.

“It has to be the river.” He told Vesia.

“It’s low tide.” She said, immediately, then deflated. “If they’re running, they’d be gone by now.”

“If he kept us there that long, there would be cargo,” Defi refuted.

They got out of the bunkrey and raced to the lip of the maze.

He was just grateful that the moon was bright. The reflection of moonlight on the waters of the river gave even more luck to them.

He sighed in disappointment. What had he been thinking? Even at night, the harbors were busy. To catch a single boat on a busy river, was he a fool?

“There!”

Vesia pointed.

It was both worse and better than Defi thought.

It was a barge, rowing away from the eastern docks.

“Why that one?”

“She was like a second mother to me. I’d recognize her even this far.”

Defi looked at the barge. There was a figure standing at the rails, looking back.

“Do you believe she turned her back on you, and all that she influenced?”

She didn’t say anything, and her silent pain told Defi all he needed.

He nodded, turned away. Vesia was fast on his heels.

“Chomar, could you get us back?”

“Back?” The boy looked at them like they were crazy. “There’s bluntheads probably waiting for us to go back like crumninnies. You looking for a beating? Don’t pull me.”

“Not the house,” Defi clarified. “The docks, as close to the water as possible.”

Chomar grunted, jerked his head.

Vesia smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“As fast as you can.”

This was the only chance they had.

The eastern docks weren’t as busy. The people were enjoying the night and the moonlight. It was a rare cloudless night and the stars were large in the heavens.

The bunkrey rattled through the calm like a bull chased through a teashop. There were shouts from the people who’d jumped out of the way when Chomar sped through.

Defi jumped out and placed Turq in the water.

“I’ll have to trouble you again.”

**

Chapter End

**

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