Beans (1): The Lord's Castle
“To think such vermin were hiding in my own lands. Hah, truly!”
“We are deeply ashamed, my lord!”
“Please have us executed!”
At the lord’s icy, rage-filled words, his retainers rose as one from their seats and bowed their heads low. Fortunately, none among the retainers had been entangled with those lawless men, yet several officials working in the castle had been involved, leaving the lord’s residence on thin ice for days.
“Your sins will be addressed later. That is not the urgent matter now, is it? Have the remnants been dealt with for certain?”
“Please believe us, my lord! We are confident we have uprooted them so thoroughly that not a single rat could escape!”
The knight commander spoke with a resolute expression.
“And you secured all of their assets as well?”
“Yes! Not only the goods at their hideout, but also the warehouses, auction houses, wagons, and carriages they used as fronts—everything has been seized without exception!”
The steward nodded quickly, unwilling to be outdone.
“A new official has performed a great service, my lord. While those who neglected their duties and allowed such disgraceful incidents within the territory deserve severe punishment, it would only be proper to reward those who helped bring this matter to a successful close.”
“It is fortunate that at least one of you remembers what must be done.”
At the white-haired old knight’s words, Etienne Eltron’s expression finally softened.
“That new official’s name was… yes, Joseph. What became of promoting him and granting him a bonus?”
“It has already been arranged, my lord.”
“Good.”
The lord was never stingy with rewards.
“However, there is still one who has earned merit yet received no reward.”
“Oh? And who might that be?”
“Patrick Luchen. The exile banished to Dunbrook Island.”
At the old knight’s words, the lord gave a small laugh.
“I saw the reports as well. It seems this man was the first to notice the scheme and prepare the stage. What do you all think?”
“It is a blessing for the territory that Your Lordship is so perceptive.”
“Still, I cannot grant him a reward.”
Yet the words that followed from the lord’s mouth were quite unexpected. The retainers exchanged wide-eyed glances at a decision so unlike their usual lord.
“From what I saw, he placed the officials in front while hiding behind them.”
“Perhaps because of his status as an exile?”
“Why should I step forward to praise a man who cannot even claim his own achievements and instead cowers in the back?”
“……”
“What need is there for me to treat someone who does not even recognize his own merits as such?”
“But just because he did not reveal it does not mean his deeds disappear, my lord.”
“Steward. That is precisely why this matter must be properly investigated and recorded. So that when he one day requests proper compensation for his old merits, we may calculate it without omission or exaggeration.”
Only then did the retainers notice the faint smile at the corner of their lord’s lips. It was clear the lord had taken an interest in the exiled man.
‘Rather than rewarding him immediately and severing the connection, he intends to create a possible link for the future.’
Especially those who had served him long understood their lord’s peculiar tastes at once and clicked their tongues inwardly.
“Still, it is rather strange.”
“Pardon?”
“According to the report Joseph submitted earlier, this exile expressed interest in earning his freedom through merit, did he not?”
“Ah…! That is correct. There was indeed such a report.”
“Then why has he said nothing and let the matter pass?”
“Perhaps he felt it was not enough?”
“That must be it, my lord. The black market’s scale far exceeded expectations, drawing even the capital’s attention. Yet when the exile from Dunbrook first involved the officials, it would have been difficult to foresee how large it would become.”
“After hearing the full story, he may have grown frightened by its scale and chosen to stay silent.”
“……That is plausible as well.”
Etienne Eltron nodded, quietly hoping the exile was not some small-minded coward.
A festival erupted in the village. Though it would take time, it was confirmed that a large sum would arrive under the fishing cooperative’s name. Several of the village’s beloved children had also seized a great stroke of luck, more than enough reason to celebrate.
Except for one person.
“That was just bait……”
Only Patrick remained gloomy, repeating the same words over and over as he stared out at the distant sea with a sullen face.
“Teacher, the best thing to do at times like this is to have a drink and forget about it. Heh heh.”
“Village Chief……!”
The coral beads he had painstakingly prepared to hook the vice-lord. He had told the children that if anyone came from the mainland, they should naturally show the beads and say, “I received them as a gift from Teacher.”
— It was a gift from Teacher, right?
— Yeah, we were told to say we got it from Teacher.
The children’s testimonies matched perfectly, leaving no room for doubt. They had not been driven by greed after learning the beads’ value. Ben and the others had simply found their teacher’s constantly changing expressions amusing and wanted to see more of them.
In any case, the children’s choice had been an excellent answer. Joseph had even used an emergency magical communication orb to ask the lord’s castle, “To whom should the owner of these coral beads be attributed?” The reply had been simple.
— The giver and the recipient are both clear. What more is there to discuss? However, since the children are young, have them come to the castle themselves once they reach adulthood to receive the gem’s value. If they grow up safely and reach their eighteenth birthday, the children will be able to step into the world with a small fortune.
“This world, seriously……”
Gulp, gulp. Patrick downed an entire glass of wine in one go. Just moments ago he had searched the entire house and storeroom, hoping to find even a single dropped piece of coral, but not a speck of dust had turned up.
‘……But it still feels like I missed something.’
Aside from his own loss, the matter had been handled perfectly—better than he could have hoped. So why did this persistent unease remain?
Patrick decided it must be lingering attachment. He had clearly held a winning lottery ticket, only for it to vanish.
“It didn’t just disappear. I gave it away. I gave it away. Me. Ah, you short-sighted fool.”
Cursing himself, he tore into a chicken leg, deboning it. Even now, the fried chicken was tear-inducingly delicious.
‘The saltiness is perfect……!’
Any thoughts of an escape-from-exile project had long since vanished from his mind. With so many people around him who had gained enormous wealth as compensation for this incident, he naturally found himself thinking only of one kind of reward.
“Can I have another chicken leg?”
“Oh my, of course you can, Teacher. As many as you like. Heh heh!”
Patrick, now holding two chicken legs and looking as cheerful as if he had never been gloomy, made the village chief burst into hearty laughter at the sight.
“Ah, Teacher. I was thinking of going to the far side of the island tomorrow to gather alfalfa. Would you care to join me?”
“……Alfalfa?”
“Yes. It is the material for making hay to feed the goats and cows through the winter. The nutritional value is highest when harvested around this time.”
“Ah!”
At the village chief’s words, Patrick suddenly thought of the goat back home. The creature had started recognizing its owner since summer and particularly liked rubbing its head against his pants. Since he was also making homemade cheese from its milk, it was the livestock he cherished most. It was in an entirely different league from that rooster that could not even keep time or lay eggs.
***
The next day.
Patrick came down to the village at dawn to prepare for cutting grass to make hay.
“……You are all right, yes?”
Though the skin beneath his eyes was dark from last night’s overdrinking, Patrick’s confidence was unmatched.
“Don’t worry. Ah, Village Chief, have you not heard the rumor?”
“A rumor? What rumor are you referring to?”
“The rumor that I have become a master at pulling weeds. Heh heh heh!”
“What nonsense.”
Ben retorted without missing a beat, and as if on cue, Patrick raised his hand to flick the boy’s forehead—only for Ben to dodge with a sway.
“Ugh!”
“Did you think I would keep falling for that? Bye—!”
Sticking out his tongue, Ben ran off with his friends, laughing loudly.
“Heh heh. Are you all right, Teacher?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. Next time I will have to think of something other than a forehead flick. But do we really have to go all the way to the far side of the island? Can we not just gather it around here?”
Though he had come full of enthusiasm, Patrick could not quite accept the idea of walking an hour just to cut grass in the distant fields.
“Even so, livestock that eat alfalfa from those fields stay healthy through the winter without illness and maintain plump bodies. So no matter how troublesome or tiring, we must go. Heh heh.”
“Oh…… So it is a special treat?”
“That is right. We cut it once in spring and again in early autumn. The hay harvested at this time and dried well in the sun is the best.”
As they talked and walked, a lush green field soon spread out before them.
“This is the alfalfa field. The color is quite fresh, is it not? Heh heh.”
Because the elevation was higher than expected, Patrick, exhausted, spread out a cloth and flopped down on his back, catching his breath before managing a nod.
“We will start first, so it would be best if you move once you have caught your breath, Teacher.”
The villagers no longer worried much whether Patrick was collapsed or lying on his back. They all knew it was not illness, but simply his lack of stamina.
How long had he been lying there, panting?
“Teacher, here.”
“……What is it?”
“Teacher, you like collecting seeds, do you not?”
“Kid, I do not like collecting seeds. I am interested in growing a variety of edible things. I am not going to plant something just for animal feed…… Huh? What is this?”
Patrick, who had been replying half-heartedly, blinked at the handful of alfalfa seeds Ben had brought.
“……A pod?”
He quickly stood up and pulled out a nearby alfalfa plant.
“……Beans?”
Hanging from the stems were, unmistakably, beans—or rather, pods.
“This was a legume?”
At the same time, a thought struck him.
“Right. I grew peas too, did I not?”
He had even harvested them from the field and eaten them boiled as snacks, so why had he never thought of this until now?
Beans! If there are beans, he could make doenjang!
“I am originally a doenjang-jjigae faction!”
“Yes?”
“If we have beans, we might be able to make it, right?”
“……What are you talking about. Hurry up and cut the grass instead of playing around!”
True to form, Ben only half-listened to Patrick’s words, lightly ignoring his teacher’s excited fuss over a great discovery as he handed him a sickle and urged him on.