Chapter Thirty-Four #3
Tomorrow night, the ritual will take place. Tomorrow night, they will sacrifice Helia to Lunos. I lock eyes with Olena as she joins Bellius. Tomorrow night, we’re going to save Helia.
“Dismissed!” We move swiftly to our duties, though my eyes linger on Helia’s back as she moves to join Andra and the wounded scout down one of the hallways.
No matter how much we’ve talked about the future, about our wants, everything will change tomorrow.
I shrug out of my armor and cloak before walking with the quartermaster to look over the supplies.
“Lyras!” He turns to my call from the other side of the spring, mild irritation at the interruption.
“Can we use the spring water for our meal?” Even from across the pool I can see his eye twitching before exhaling deeply.
Without a word, he gestures with one hand before returning to his discussion.
I shrug to the quartermaster before turning back to our food; holy water or not, it’s the only nearby source.
I grab some barley flour, lentils, lard, cured meat, and a bit of the spices our quartermaster managed to stock up on in Hecalon. With a few quick words I send them out for wood to start a fire. As soon as they are away, I get to work making the barley flatbread; equal parts flour and spring water.
Mix.
Knead.
Rest.
Something about the simplicity of it calms the tendrils of inky fear tickling at the frayed corners of my mind. Can I really do this? Can I defy a goddess? By the time that I’ve rolled out the flatbreads, the quartermaster returns with some help in tow, arms filled with wood.
Before long, a fire is rolling along, cook pot nice and warm. Warm enough to easily cook the flatbread, building a nice crisp char without burning. Next, half the lard goes in, a wondrous sizzle signifying the pot is ready for the next part.
Half the spices now, building flavor with the melted lard. Not too long; burnt lard is horrendous. I remember when I had tried to bake bread with Menna and burned the lard before adding it to the flour. Her laughter echoed in my ears when I tasted my creation and promptly gagged.
Menna…how long has it been now? I’ve lost track; it all seems a lifetime ago, a whisper of a forgotten past. I know she would be proud of how far I’ve come.
I can hear her flirting tone in the corner of my mind, her joy of life a treasure I will always carry.
The air fills with the tantalizing aroma of earthy spices, signaling it was time to add the meat.
The cured meat is already cubed since we expected trouble on this trip, making it an easy addition to the pot.
I shoot a glance over where Lyras and the others are gathered, curious if the smell had reached them yet.
The heads turned in my direction are all the confirmation I need.
Hopefully this will make up for taking the water.
Not that I trust them and their blind devotion, but I also don’t blame them for their belief. Everyone deserves to eat good food.
With the heat of the pot, the meat cooks quickly poaching in the spiced lard. With the help of the quartermaster, I spoon out the meat and leave the rendered fat in the pot. Next, pour in the lentils and carefully, ever so carefully, add more spring water to the pot before giving it a mix.
While that cooks, it’s time to make the final piece. A little surprise for my family. I stop at that thought; this little group of warriors have truly become the most real family I have ever known. Even Andra. More than Menna, leagues more than Porto, and my unknown parents.
Holding back emotions, I place the remaining lard and spices into one of the wooden bowls we eat out of.
Mixing thoroughly, the two ingredients become one.
The quartermaster looks on hungrily, eager to taste this latest concoction.
Laughing I ask them to round everyone up; the lentils will be done by then.
It takes little time for everyone to gather; just enough to finish the meal.
First the flatbread, then a layer of lentils, followed by a pad of the spiced lard. Finally, topped with the cooked meat with a bit of juice; warm enough to melt the lard as everyone eats.
I make sure our injured eat first, despite the anticipation on Helia’s face as her eyes flick between me and the alluring food. While they hopefully won’t see any fighting tonight, we always take care of our weakest first.
Everyone becomes engrossed in savoring their meal, groans of satisfaction filling the room.
Even Lyras approves, all irritation over stolen water long forgotten.
I nibble at my own food, basking in the joy I brought to everyone.
I try to ignore the pang of loss at the thought; my dream of opening a taverna seems impossible now.
Helia holds her meal, untouched, and gestures for me to join her.
Perhaps I won’t get my dream, but even if I only get to enjoy this last moment with her, with these people, that is still worthwhile.