Soy Sauce Garlic Chicken for the Gods
From the very next day after their impulsive shopping spree and lighthearted date, Catherine's schedule grew every bit as frantic as she had predicted.
Unlike the mountain of invitations that had arrived the day they entered the capital—and which Mary had mercilessly consigned to the flames—the ones delivered from dawn onward came from people even Catherine found difficult to ignore outright. Mary handled the scheduling.
Anyone below the rank of count got the cold shoulder, Karem thought.
In other words, the senders of these invitations were people Catherine couldn't simply burn without a second thought.
Karem did not trail after the busy Catherine. Someone still had to see to the meals of the woman racing about and of Mary, who attended her.
Of course, a single word to the royal kitchens would produce any dish or snack they liked, but as already noted, even an ordered meal stood little chance of arriving on time.
That suited Karem just fine.
Well… not exactly fine.
I already don't know what to do with all this free time.
With Catherine and Mary gone, Karem's days became far sparer and far duller than anything he had known at Winterhome.
"You'll stay here again today."
"Didn't you say you were going to rest a little?"
By now Karem had grown so used to remarks like that that he found himself guessing ranks and titles. Judging by the tone, this one had to be a count at the very least.
"His Majesty himself offered to arrange the meeting and asked that we coordinate the schedule."
Catherine sat at the table, leaning so far to one side she looked ready to topple over from pure weariness. She accepted the snacks Mary held out and popped them into her mouth.
Today's treat was Berseingeto cookies—also known as Florentine cookies.
Mary had not baked them. They were a gift from Lumierix, head chef of the royal kitchens, which Karem had managed to secure.
"His Majesty himself? Then it can't be a mere count. Who's the other party?"
"Peregrine Forrester."
"Hmm… so who is that?"
"The Duke of Merkwood," Mary answered in place of the thoroughly uninterested Catherine.
"I meant to refuse every ordinary invitation today, but His Majesty arranged it, the man is a duke, and the letter was so desperately pleading that I can hardly decline."
"Back at Winterhome you could take it easy… ahem."
Karem shut his mouth by reflex. From the autumn before last through winter and into early spring, Catherine's days had been nothing but all-nighters and overtime.
No need to remind her of that.
Embarrassed at having started a sentence he couldn't finish, he snatched up a cookie thick with caramel and nuts. It crunched satisfyingly between his teeth.
"Why did you stop mid-sentence?"
"It's nothing. This is your first invitation from a duke, isn't it?"
"It is, at least since we arrived here. You remember the points of caution?"
"Greet everyone first no matter who they are, and keep my mouth shut until the other person speaks. You've told me a dozen times."
"Good. You remember well."
Catherine's warnings continued. Karem heard the same lecture every day—though, to be fair, they had only been here a few days.
Still, she fretted, so he carefully engraved today's warnings in his mind once more.
"You'll probably be so focused on the advice that you won't have room for anything else, but just in case."
"Advice?"
Karem blinked, pausing mid-bite of a caramel-coated almond fragment that had fallen onto the plate. Mary spoke while Catherine was still chewing her cookie.
"The Duke of Merkwood is the classic example of a mage born with a silver spoon in his mouth. In the old days he became an Archmage younger than most contractors and was expected to become the youngest Sage. Or so they say."
"Ohh…"
"But at some point he stagnated, and he is still seeking instruction. They call him a perpetual Archmage."
"…Hmm? Perpetual?"
He might not rank with Sages like Catherine or Olivier, but he was still an Archmage.
Calling that "perpetual" as if it were nothing seemed harsh for someone of that caliber.
"Well, if it's magic talk you can ignore most of it, but he is a high noble of the same rank as His Majesty."
"Hard to refuse, then."
"Suffer well."
"Will do."
The other party was a duke and an Archmage. More than that, Catherine's liege, Alfred, had personally arranged the meeting. In practice it was a duke's invitation.
He had even offered to match Catherine's schedule.
The eagerness felt a little excessive.
Perhaps he truly was desperate for the next realm of power.
While Karem pondered, the plate emptied. Catherine rose, ready to leave for her meeting with Duke Forrester.
"Before you go, how about choosing tonight's menu?"
"Hmm. Nothing particular comes to mind. I'll leave it to the chef's recommendation."
"Difficult order received."
Karem saw Catherine and Mary off, then stepped straight into his adjoining room and dove onto the bed.
Evening was still a long way off.
Night, with its unknowns, lay even farther.
At Winterhome there would have been plenty to do, but this was not Winterhome. This was Winchester Royal Castle in the capital, Pen Draig.
Karem's cooking class had been provisionally suspended thanks to the absence of its sole student, William. From the looks of things the boy was trailing Alfred and Godwin around the city. They had agreed to resume regular lessons starting tomorrow, but still.
Lying on the bed, Karem turned his head. Beyond the balcony window stretched a leaden sky. Below it, the inner and outer wards of the castle sprawled, and rising above everything else were the Colosseum and the great Seophon Sanctuary of the Pantheon.
And, carried on a breeze that held a hint of moisture, came the unmistakable aroma of some creature's meat roasting over flame.
Come to think of it, I haven't made an offering in quite a while.
Back in Coldon he had regularly presented dishes to the Three Gods, but from the moment he joined the procession until their arrival in Pen Draig he had not offered a single thing.
Going all the way to that distant Sanctuary felt like too much trouble. With a guide or companion it might have been different, but walking alone to a structure that size was simply a chore.
Then his eye fell on the salamander-egg preservation box he had bought on impulse for barbecue and then left sitting in a corner.
"…Hmm. Barbecue can wait… Did I put the portable altar in the wardrobe?"
Barbecue took too long, after all.
He rolled off the bed and opened the wardrobe.
It was called a portable altar, but it was nothing like the grand altar installed in the makeshift shrine at Afterglow Fortress.
It was a folding case that opened to either side, with simplified engravings of the Three Gods inside—the sort of souvenir a tourist might pick up on a whim.
It had been buried under a pile of luggage, yet it looked perfectly fine.
The moment Karem turned around he froze.
The cause sat on the balcony beyond the window.
Flap-flap-flap—!
Perched on the balcony railing were a crow black as the night sky and a snowy owl white as a winter field. How long they had been there, he had no idea.
Flap!
A kite settled beside the snowy owl. It was so large Karem imagined it could easily carry a child in each talon and still fly.
The owl and the kite were unfamiliar.
The crow, however, he knew well.
Above all, divine power radiated from all three birds.
"…Traveler?"
At the name that slipped out unbidden, the crow—the transformed Nameless Traveler—nodded its beak and spread its wings.
Thwack!
The black wing brushed the owl, and the snowy owl promptly smacked the crow across the back of the head with its own wing.
The gesture, though the forms and situation were entirely different, instantly recalled two familiar gods. If his guess was right… no, this was no time for guessing.
"Then that kite must be—anyway, all three of you, please come in first. What's the big rush?"
The moment Karem opened the window the three birds shot inside with a rush of wings. Startled only for a second, he soon found the crow and the kite perched on either of his shoulders and the snowy owl settled firmly atop his head.
The voice rang far clearer than it ever had in dreams. More than that, it was a familiar tone he had once heard in the divine realm. Karem was certain.
"My apologies, Lady Skadi."
He opened with an immediate apology.
"Well, we were still on the road, so a little—"
Skadi, in her snowy-owl form, folded the wings that had been flapping at the kite's deep voice.
"I had just been thinking of you, as it happens. Perfect timing. I was getting a little hungry myself."
No need for the altar if they were already here. Karem opened the wardrobe again and shoved the portable altar back inside.
"Lord Tutatis?"
Hoot-hoot—!
Screeeech!
His center of balance had already been precarious; when Skadi and Tutatis began thrashing their wings atop his head and one shoulder, his whole body swayed.
"Calm down, both of you! Aigoo, my neck and shoulder are going to fall off!"
"Caw! Caw!"
He shouted as he nearly toppled. The two gods, realizing their undignified display, cleared their throats and folded their wings.
"First… whew. Let's start with fried chicken."
Worry came first. A crow, a snowy owl, and a kite larger than a child were planted firmly on both his shoulders and the top of his head.
This is perfect aggro bait.
Naturally every eye would be drawn to him. And yet, the moment he stepped out of the room, no attention came at all.
Skadi's voice resonated inside his head as though she had read the question in his chest.
"Then… was that you, Lady Skadi?"
"Caw."
The avatar of the Nameless Traveler perched on his left shoulder gave a low cry.
In the corridors, passages, and stairways of Winchester Royal Castle, the servants and maids they passed truly seemed unable to see the three avian avatars; they simply went about their business.
Amazing.
Karem adjusted his grip on the portable altar and slowed his steps.
If that was the case, there was no need to hurry.
Understood.
Hearing such a majestic voice say something so petty drained the tension right out of him, but he quickened his pace all the same. They had already been nearly there, so they arrived in no time.
Click! Creeeak! Thud!
"…Huuuuh. You can get down now."
The moment he entered Lumierix's private kitchen, Karem dumped the three gods from his body onto the table. His right shoulder, which had borne the kite that was Tutatis, ached especially.
"For now, this kitchen only has monster and beast meat, so I'll make something close enough and offer it."
Even so, making gods wait felt burdensome. Karem pulled out a few unidentifiable fruits and set them in front of the three birds.
Whatever they are, if they were in the kitchen they must be edible.
While the avatars of the Three Gods pecked at the fruit, Karem set to work on fried chicken in the still-unfamiliar kitchen. He set a pot of oil on the burner and opened the wardrobe-style storage chest.
"…Something chicken-like. Something chicken-like."
Countless name tags hung before the meats in the chest. His finger brushed along them one by one until it stopped.
"Wyvern."
He was certain that when he had eaten it on skewers before, the taste had been similar to chicken. Decision made.
Karem pulled out a cut of wyvern meat—he had no idea which part—and began to butcher it.
Before long Karem plated the wyvern fried chicken tossed in soy-sauce garlic sauce onto three dishes and set them before the gods.
Come to think of it, how exactly do they eat?
The Nameless Traveler often visited in true form and polished off dishes cleanly—bones and all.
By contrast, except for his visits to the divine realm, Karem had never actually watched Skadi or Tutatis eat. Whenever he came to his senses, only scraps and empty plates remained.
The answer this time was simple.
Still in their avian avatar forms, the three gods began tearing into the wyvern chicken with talons and beaks.
He had fried it in a hasty water batter, yet because he had double-fried it for crispness, the crunch of their beaks rang out the entire time.
How to put it…
The sight is… something else.
Karem had expected a rather different spectacle—something mysterious or elegant, the way the Nameless Traveler ate in true form.
Sizzle! Crunch! Crunch!
"…I'll wait until the three of you are full, fry up a generous extra offering, and then eat. Have some of this as well."
Still… even as birds, the oral structure of divine avatars seemed different. Right now they weren't just tearing and swallowing with their beaks—they appeared to be chewing.