In the early spring of September, the easternmost point of the Neusiakis Mountains meets the north-west of the Pai Plateau in a lush green meadow where the rolling Neusiakis Mountains end and where the water from the melting snow-capped glaciers of the Neusiakis Mountains comes together in several tributaries to form dozens of lakes, large and small, in this not so large meadow. Before the summer, millions of one-horned bison that have migrated north to the glacial tundra pass through here, trampling it into the barren landscape. Only in the early spring before then do caravans choose to take this route. Now it is also a haven for all kinds of small animals.
I lay quietly and motionlessly in the grass, even breathing very lightly. A wide sack is propped up beside me at the mouth of a fist-sized burrow, slightly camouflaged with grass, the two-foot-square opening getting narrower the further in I go, so that if a guinea pig gets into the sack, it won't be able to climb out.
Kurtz is responsible for filling the rest of the holes with a shovel, a job only an experienced hunter can do, and one less hole won't catch a guinea pig. When the time was right, Kurtz poured a pile of white scraps into the fire, and in moments a huge cloud of black smoke rose up as the wolf dung, mixed with pungent and pungent herbs, burst into flames.
Seeing that all the dung was fully burnt, Kurtz lifted a linen blanket soaked in water to cover the fire and the rat hole together. With a smile on his face, he whispered to me, "Giga, hold the pocket, don't get it crooked!"
"Yes!" I whispered back excitedly, and even though my soul was no longer young, I was still excited and even a little nervous when my young body plopped down in the grass, fearing that I might not be able to hold the bag if the rabbit-sized guinea pigs swooped out.
The smoke poured into the rat hole and I could see hints of smoke rising from all over the meadow.
There was no time to think, I heard a "whoosh" sound, the grass at the mouth of the rat hole was violently overwhelmed by an earthy yellow beast, the yellow shadow did not even have time to change direction, head into the bag. Two more came out in quick succession. I held the mouth of the sack tightly with both hands, not daring to be distracted in the slightest. The rabbit-sized guinea pigs were darting in and out of the bag, but fortunately Kurtz had already secured the bag to the ground with a wooden wedge, fearing a mess on my end. I took a stick and beat the unruly guinea pigs, who were still trying to find the exit, into submission.
Crouching next to the sack trap, I thought about how I was only seven years old, the age when I used to cry and pull at my mother's coat and refuse to go to school, but now I had to work hard for a bite to eat and endure the pain of the burns on my body, and work hard to fit in with the group and learn about this mysterious world of magic with the utmost seriousness. I think I was afraid of dying after all, so I tried to live carefully, and during this time I met some good people, Mr. Kuru. Kurtz. Fred. Butler Leipas, and the rest of the merchants, and they were all very kind. Old Kulu not only saved me but also told me the way forward and his words filled me with hope and courage. Whether such a life was lucky or unlucky for me, I could hardly tell for a while.
The sound of Kurtz calling out from a distance pulled me back from my thoughts.
"Giga, there's a guinea pig on the loose!"
I hurriedly dropped the stick in my hand and righted the crooked sack. By now a dozen or so guinea pigs had run into the pocket, and a few had slipped through the gap on the other side of the sack opening and were running across the grass with gusto. They leap three or four metres in a single bound and disappear into the grassland in just a few drops.
It seems that the hole Kurtz found belongs to a large family of guinea pigs. There was still a steady stream of guinea pigs coming out of the burrow through the choking fumes, some of the latter were as drunk as they were, staggering out of the burrow and collapsing at the entrance, their furry bodies looking as if they had been straightened out, their hind legs kicking back twice in a feeble manner and their bodies starting to twitch.
Kurtz came running with a brazier and bent the end of it. He reached into the hole with the brazier and hooked the choking guinea pigs out as well. His shaggy face was blackened by the smoke, but his eyes were bright, and when he smiled in triumph he showed the two sharp canine teeth of a wolf orc.
We had a very successful hunt, catching 27 guinea pigs, each the size of a hare. We tied the sacks to a long wooden stick and carried them, one after the other, to our camp. On the way back, Kurtz and I agreed to treat the camp to a stew, and Kurtz didn't even think twice about it. I had planned to fry the guinea pigs, but I didn't expect to catch so many at once that the oil I had prepared was not enough. I had to change the menu on the spot, and it was easier to stew it in one pot. Now in early spring, unlike winter, you can freeze meat that you can't eat. At this time of year, fresh meat will spoil if left for three or two days, so it is better to invite everyone to eat it together.
From a distance, I could see old Kulu sitting on the slope next to the camp, his wrinkled face had an indescribable smell, just sitting quietly, with a roughly rolled cigarette in his mouth. But this was a long trip, and old Kulu didn't have much in stock. It is said that this slightly sour, sea-buckthorn tasting tobacco can only be grown on the Pai plateau, so I guess there was no point in saving the leaves when we arrived home. When he saw that we had returned safely, he walked slowly down the hill and was surprised to see the prey in the sack and said, "You've caught so much, good luck, you two boys!"
"Master, Giga and I would like to treat all the men of the caravan to a good meal for dinner. Kuz asked cautiously as he was as good as a little quail in front of the old kuru. The rules of the orc tribe were different from those of the human tribe, and although Kuz had lived in the caravan for three years, he still had the same wariness in his bones that the orcs of the tribe had towards the humans, something that was imprinted in his bones and would not change easily.
The old kuru looked at me with some surprise and some relief in his eyes. Old Kulu had been trying hard to integrate Kuzi into human society, and I knew that he had always wanted young Kuzi to visit the big human cities in the centre of the continent, but if Kuzi had always been reluctant, this time would have been extended indefinitely. Every orc who wants to become a tribe leader needs to be forward looking, but this is something that requires experience and exposure. Still, the old kuru hesitated a little and was silent for a moment before looking up and asking Kuz, "Since you want to treat the caravan all to a stew, do you know how many people are in the caravan and do you have enough for everyone today? Have you given any thought to how much food you are going to make?"
"Ah! Yes! Giga, there are so many people. That doesn't seem like enough for our guinea pigs!" Kurtz was dumbfounded, a maths problem was a bit hard for the young orc, who was only 12 years old.
In the days of studying herbalism with the old kuru, I had already got a good idea of how many people were in the caravan, which was actually three separate groups, the least numerous being the two adventuring groups, which had only twenty-seven men, and they always walked ahead of the caravan, only returning to the larger group when it was time to resupply. The real caravan was the one led by Steward Leipas, with 203 members and 70 huge thunder rhinos. I once saw a young lady in white sitting on the side of a carriage, wandering her long, white legs, teasing a calf that was accompanying the carriage with a piece of white bread in her hand, the sound of her silver bells The silvery sound of laughter carried far and wide.
I stood up and said: "There are more than 200 of us in the group. We'll probably need 200 loaves of black bread for dinner, which is not a problem for me and Cuz, as long as we can make enough stew for 200 people. Yesterday Kurtz snared seven more chickens, which are still hidden in our tent. We also pulled out about fifty mountain eggs, plus I'd like to add some vermicelli and pork chops to the stew ..."
"Vermicelli ...? The same hard twine you boiled with ground potatoes the first few days?" Kurtz obviously didn't approve of those vermicelli I made a bit, as he hated those ground potatoes, as the plant was only eaten by the lowest class of slaves even in the orc tribes. Obviously Kurtz was worried that I was going to make him eat the ground potatoes, so he said, "Maybe it would be better if we had some rice from the trees, and I could ask Master Leipas for a bag of rice. Or maybe there is a lot of live root grass already growing in the wilderness and it would be good to cook in a pot."
For a meal of pseudo-pork stew with vermicelli, I hastened to put my arm around Kurtz and whispered, "Brother Beast, you don't believe me?" I was so small that I could only hold Kurtz, who was still a head taller than me, on my tiptoes. Kurtz blinked a little in embarrassment and said to me, "Then when you serve the meat, you must give me more meat."
"Don't worry, you can eat it all you want!" I promised, patting my little chest.
At the eastern end of the camp, next to the lake, there was a row of large stone stoves with ten large iron pots, each two metres in diameter, six belonging to the dance troupe and four to the merchants. The cooks of the troupe had to stand on the edge of the stove with shovel-like spatulas in order to stir-fry. In contrast, the caravans were much more relaxed, eating black bread every day, just boiling water in a pot, pouring in some dried vegetables and salt, and sometimes some dried meat, and this food was called dried vegetable soup. At that time I thought it was more like a herbal soup with salt in it and it was very hard to drink, so I would rather eat black bread and drink plain water unless I was hungry. Kurtz was never a fussy eater and would drink a big bowl of even that soup with gusto. Later, when old Kulu saw that I couldn't eat dry vegetable soup, he took Kurtz out hunting occasionally to get me some fresh meat.
When Butler Leipas heard my request and Kuz's, he didn't say anything else, but took us straight to the cooker and reached for a spatula taller than me and asked me, "Giga, you said you wanted to cook a meal for everyone, so if you can hold this spatula and make sure it doesn't fall into the pot, then I'll grant you your request."
Looking at the huge spatula up close, I realised that the shiny wooden handle, soaked in grease, was almost as thick as my arm, and my eyes widened as I gripped the spatula with both hands and took a deep breath, but I couldn't hold the heavy spatula with all my strength.
Apart from the cooks of the dance troupe and the caravan's cook, there were a lot of bored loafers gathered around the cooker. The caravan had set up camp early in the morning to get a good rest by the lake where there was water and to prepare for the journey into the Pai plateau. It was late afternoon and the caravan was sunbathing outside their tents in the warm early spring weather, which was rare. Seeing someone gathered by the lake, someone came over to them.
"Haha, so it's the Giga boy, watch out for the spatula breaking your toes."
"Hey, I say whose boy is that, is the little brat still breastfeeding? How can Master Ley let him hold such a heavy spatula."
There was a lot of chatter in the crowd, and when they saw that I didn't end up holding the spatula either, they laughed together. But privately someone in the know began to explain that it was the merchant's medicine man, Old Kulu, who had taken two small children with him and wanted to give everyone a good meal. Then the crowd got into a tizzy and started talking about what exactly was for dinner tonight.
I was a bit embarrassed, I really didn't think a spatula could be that big and very heavy, I think it was over 30kg, even in my previous life when I was in my prime it wasn't easy to pick up a spatula that big and stir fry it.
"Maybe I can ..."
I hesitated to ask for help, when Kurtz, who was beside me, reached out directly with one hand to hold the wooden handle and lifted the spatula like a fly swatter, asking me nervously, "Giga, is this spatula very heavy?"
"Ah! Aziz, you're so strong." I was a little dumbfounded and dazed. All this time, Kuzi had never shown his unusual strength, and I would sometimes be a bit childish and fight with Kuzi on the rhino's back, and I would press up against him to make him beg for mercy, and Kuzi would laugh loudly and admit defeat every time. I didn't feel anything at the time, I thought he was stronger than me even if he was not much stronger, at best he was a good runner, had a lot of stamina, could climb trees and could jump higher than me. Even when we came back from the guinea pig hunt today, I still felt that it was the effort of both of us to carry it back, but when I look back now, I have brought my mind back to the original pattern and thought of myself as being so strong that I don't think I would have been able to carry even a fraction of the number of those guinea pigs. It seemed that Kurtz must have been carrying most of the weight at the time, and I was actually careless enough to not notice as I walked ahead.
I hastily said to the Lepas steward, "Papa Lepas, so is this a good way to get us started? Maybe I can do something else, wash the meat and carry the water, Kurtz is a good cook."
Leupas's long, thin eyes smiled at me and Kurtz, then turned to a fat, greasy, fat boy, Anlu, who was next to him, and said, "These two little guys will be in charge of the stew for dinner today. Anything happens to either one then you will receive my wrath. Also I guarantee that you will not enjoy any medical treatment for the rest of your journey. Do you understand?"
The fat lad Anlu, his big round fleshy face piled with folds, wiped the oily sweat from his face with a bitterly unreadable handkerchief, got out of the crowd struggling to retract his pot-like belly and said bitterly to Steward Leipas, "Rest assured, Master Steward, I will see to it that these two lads are kept well."
Seeing that Kurtz kept trying to speak, I tugged tightly on Kurtz's sleeve. After Butler Leipas left and the crowd dispersed with him, leaving only me and Kurtz with the spatula, I just said to Kurtz, "I'll do all the ideas, but I'm weak and you'll have to put in some effort, after all, we're cooking dinner for over 200 people and I can't do it even if there's only one dish."
When I said that, Kuzi's hairy face, full of tension, relaxed and he let out a long breath and said, "I don't know how to make a stew, but I have plenty of strength, so if it's a job that requires strength, you can say so, Giga.