Chapter 123: It All Started with Bread

The day before sowing, we specially invited Evlinna and the honorable leaders of the Lumburi Tribe to introduce these born hunters to the important farming method that farming people depended on for survival.

They were full of interest in it. Early the next morning, more than a dozen chieftains living nearby followed Evlinna and came over together.

“You mean… you put these seeds in the ground, grow those strange weeds, and get more seeds?” Chieftain Rotis, who had never seen wheat seeds before, stared blankly at the people sowing in the fields and asked in confusion.

“Things are mostly as you said, Chieftain Rotis. I completely understand your surprise. But there’s one thing you got wrong—that’s not grass. Or rather, it’s not grass in the ordinary sense. Generally speaking, we call it wheat.”

“When the wheat matures…” I went on explaining to him. This was pretty tiring work for me, because I didn’t know much about it either. The thing I knew most about wheat was how long fermented wheat starter should be fermented to make the most mellow wheat ale. I believed very few people knew more than I did on that matter.

“…We harvest it, gather its seeds, dry them in the sun, and grind them into powder. You know, that’s what we usually call flour. After proper processing, it can be made into all kinds of delicious food…” As I spoke, I placed a bag of flour I had prepared early in the morning in front of our native friends.

The noble native leaders curiously gathered around a bag of seeds and a bag of flour and studied them carefully. In their eyes, the two things were so different that they simply couldn’t believe both came from the same plant.

Suddenly, Rotis couldn’t hold back. He scooped up a big handful of flour with both hands and crammed it into his mouth. He didn’t notice how easily those fine powder grains scattered. They covered his whole face and even got into his eyes. The remaining flour scattered onto the chieftains around him, causing a cloud of white dust.

“Pfft… A… A… A… ACHOO!” Rotis, with his eyes half closed, let out a huge sneeze. His eyebrows and hair were dyed powder white by the flour. His irritated eyes flowed with tears, leaving a long wet streak across his face. He looked very funny.

“Hehehe… you look really good, Uncle Rotis… hehe… even fairer than Aunt Aila…” Seeing his miserable state, Evlinna couldn’t help laughing while hugging Roll’s shoulder. Since becoming the High Priest, this young and lovely girl rarely came to our camp. When she did come once in a while, she was always full of worries and came to ask for our help. Thinking about it, we hadn’t seen such a sincere smile from her for a long time. Seeing her like this, I was happy for her, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for this lovely, respectable girl from another clan.

Roll seemed a little unused to Evlinna’s sudden over-affection. He turned his head awkwardly to look at her, as if trying to pull his arm out of her hand. But when he saw Evlinna’s cheerful, clear smile, like a spring in the mountains, he couldn’t help being stunned for a moment. Then he slowly turned his head back, leaving his arm in Evlinna’s fair, soft hand, his body stiffly swaying as she swung it.

“Pfft, pfft, yuck… this thing tastes terrible! It’s nowhere near as good as mountain pheasant!” Rotis shook his head and complained loudly, trying to get the flour off his face and hair as he spoke. The chieftains caught in the mess also complained and brushed at their heads and faces, trying to wipe off the strange white powder.

“Hey, noble Son of the Running Wolf, this isn’t how you eat it.” Eckdin, the Chieftain of the Great Bull, walked over with a kind smile and helpfully brushed the flour off Rotis.

“You’re too impatient, my noble friend.” As he spoke, Eckdin took from my hand a plate of bread spread with fresh cheese and butter and stuffed with large pieces of smoked meat. This bread had just been taken out of the oven by the new bakers, and it was giving off a warm, tempting wheat smell that made people’s mouths water. It was real delicacy. The hard black bread Evlinna and Eckdin had eaten at our place before was nothing compared to it.

“Come on, try this. It tastes wonderful. You can doubt my words, but you definitely can’t doubt the High Priest’s honesty.” Eckdin said kindly to his tribesmen. His words were confirmed by the look on Evlinna’s face.

The chieftains immediately shifted all their attention from the flour bag to the strange food in Eckdin’s hand that gave off such an inviting smell. These curious leaders gathered around us like children, staring at the bread in wonder. Rotis hesitantly stretched out his right hand, gently touched a piece of bread, and then pulled his hand back as if frightened.

“It’s warm?” he asked.

Eckdin and I laughed. We each took a piece of bread from the plate and put it into our mouths to chew. Honestly, this stuff was really nice, especially for someone like me who had been chewing dry bread for almost a year. I couldn’t help making admiring sounds, which made the bread even more tempting for the native leaders.

Finally, Rotis was the first to take a piece of bread. He carefully held it under his nose, sniffed it, then stuck out his tongue and licked it. You could tell he was quite satisfied with the flavor. The next moment, he threw the whole piece into his big mouth.

In an instant, Rotis’s pupils widened. This brave man, who had never changed his expression even when facing tens of thousands of powerful enemies, completely lost control. He kept making admiring sounds from his nose, chewed the delicious bread quickly, and then hurriedly swallowed it down. All the way until the bread went into his stomach, he kept his eyes half closed, wearing a blissful expression. In the end, he couldn’t help licking his shiny, greasy fingers. Only after a while did he realize that he had lost his composure, and he gave us an awkward, shy smile.

No more explanation was needed. His reaction completely removed the other native chieftains’ wariness toward this new food. They almost fought with one another to stuff these soft, sweet pastries into their mouths, and without exception they made admiring clicking sounds. Some quickly finished one and couldn’t help grabbing a second. When they tried to reach for a third, they were disappointed to find that the big plate was already empty.

Several big men stood around an empty plate, smacking their lips, occasionally licking their butter-covered lips with their tongues, and staring at it with reluctance. The scene was amusing. It was obvious this wasn’t a common sight. Evlinna watched with great interest as these elders did the things that only children would do.

“Was this really made from those weeds… ah no… wheat, right, wheat?” Horst, the Chieftain of the Wild Horse, asked in disbelief. After I confirmed it again, he shook his head in disbelief and said, “This is the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten. It’s much better than roasted venison.”

“Hey, my dear friends, I hope you won’t blame us for this poor hospitality. Sorry, today is really too busy.” At that moment, Fred walked over, wearing a shirt and trousers made of coarse cloth, with mud all over his feet. Compared to me, he knew even less about farming. That was because of the elite noble education he had received since childhood. But he was very interested in it, believing that a leader had to understand the foundation of a country. He had been sowing seeds all morning with our soldiers and newly arrived residents. To put it bluntly, he was basically wasting the seeds. As clever as my friend was, that didn’t mean he could turn from an excellent general into an excellent farmer without learning. We rarely had the chance to see the respected Fred embarrass himself in public and expose his ignorance like this. And being able to do exactly that was one of the reasons he was so loved by us.

From the moment Fred stood in the farmland, the commotion never stopped. Those temporary farmers whispered to each other about their unease—a king was actually farming! Something must be wrong with the world!

“You kept our friends waiting…” Although I said that, I didn’t mean it as a blame. “You didn’t have to stay in the fields so long. There are still many important things waiting for you.”

“I can’t see anything more important than letting us eat delicious bread every day next year. What do you think, my dear friends?” Fred asked our native friends half-jokingly. The chieftains, who had just tasted one of the best foods in the world, sincerely agreed with him.

“Jeff, I think I have to blame you. How could you not let our most noble friends eat their fill? I don’t want the noble Son of the Running Wolf to go back and tell his people, ‘We only had a half-full meal at the Delanmaya brothers’ place.’” Fred warmly invited our guests. “Come on, I’ve prepared more fine food for everyone. I hope you’ll like it.”

The Lumburi chieftains, who had just been feeling a little disappointed because they hadn’t eaten enough, all showed joyful expressions after hearing Fred’s words. They laughed heartily and followed Fred into a large wooden cabin. In the middle of the cabin was a large table big enough for more than twenty people to sit around, and the table was covered with all kinds of snacks.

At this moment, the native leaders showed their simple, honest side. Without too much polite refusal, they sat down one after another and enjoyed the delicacies they had never seen before. Evlinna and Eckdin looked at us apologetically because of their companions’ rudeness. What they didn’t know was that it was exactly because of their straightforward, unaffected sincerity that we found the friends of the Lumburi Tribe so close to us.

Not long after, Rotis suddenly said loudly to Fred, “Brother Fred, can I trade these foods with you for animal skins, so I can take them back and let my people taste them? I’m willing to exchange all the skins I’ve hunted this year, plus a few beautiful pairs of antlers and the teeth I pulled out of a leopard’s mouth with my own hands.” As soon as he said that, all the chieftains suddenly stopped making any noise. Some of them frowned at the food piled up on the table, as if thinking about what kind of price they should use to trade for these things.

Rotis’s question hit exactly what we wanted. Fred asked in a friendly way, “Brother Rotis, my beloved Son of the Running Wolf. You mean, you’re willing to trade all your possessions for this food, so your people can enjoy it together with you, right?”

Rotis nodded.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” Fred answered without a moment’s hesitation, still wearing a smile.

A wave of regretful sighs sounded in the room. Rotis felt embarrassed because he had been refused face to face. Unwilling to give up, he opened his mouth, wanting to try again.

“I understand what you mean, Brother Rotis.” Fred interrupted him. “It’s such a noble thing that you’re willing to use your own possessions to buy happiness for your tribe. I deeply admire your generosity and your deep friendship toward your people, and I don’t want you to enjoy this remarkable honor alone. So I will send a cart to deliver the food you need to you, and share this glorious act of generosity with you.”

Hearing Fred’s words, the chieftains’ expressions immediately changed from regret to joy. Some of them couldn’t help stepping forward to thank Fred. But at that moment, Fred spoke again, “However, my dear friends, the food we give you will eventually be eaten up. Although we are honored to help our Lumburi brothers, what we can afford is limited. Have you ever thought that you yourselves could also have endless bread and delicious pastries? It’s not hard.”

The chieftains who heard this were dumbfounded. Fred’s words touched something they had never thought of in their minds. Hunting, getting food until the nearby prey was no longer enough to support survival, then migrating, and starting the cycle all over again—that was the whole life of our native friends. Treating bread as a staple food and eating it for a long time was a question they had never considered.

“You mean… you can teach us how to plant… um… wheat, so we can often eat this delicious thing?” Even Eckdin was surprised by Fred’s words. He asked in a trembling voice, hoping his guess would be confirmed.

“Not often, my friend—any time. Eat whenever you want, and eat as much as you want. That will be your own harvest, completely at your disposal.”

“But…” Rotis still hadn’t worked it out. “We can’t always stay in one place. We have to migrate. We migrate a lot…”

“Uncle Rotis…” Evlinna said gently. Although her voice was soft, her status as the High Priest made Rotis stop speaking and look at her politely.

“Why do we migrate? Many times, it’s simply because there is too little prey. Just now Brother Fred said it clearly. If we can also grow wheat, then we don’t need to worry about food shortage at all. Why would we still migrate?”

Evlinna’s words made Rotis lower his head, his face turning red. This was originally a very easy thing to understand, but our honorable native friends needed the young High Priest to remind them. Traditional habits had been burned deeply into their minds and even into their bones, making them less able to accept new things than that young girl.

“You… are you really willing to teach us such… such a precious skill?” Rotis still asked in an uncertain voice. In their eyes, this planting skill was something so precious that it couldn’t be more precious. The food Fred had given them was already enough to make them grateful beyond words, and teaching them all of it was an act of generosity they simply couldn’t imagine.

“I will specially send people to help you, my friends, with enough seeds. If your food is tight before the harvest, I will also do my best to supply you.” Fred tried hard to clear away their doubts.

“What do you want in exchange, my friend? Animal skins? Weapons? Or something even more precious? You can’t just teach this to us for nothing, can you? God, this is too generous. I don’t even know what to trade with you…” Rotis shouted in disbelief. His excitement represented the excitement of everyone present.

“I only want your friendship, my friends. Nothing can compare with it. I hope that on this land, no one will suffer from hunger, and no one will suffer from cold. I hope every child and every old person gets proper care, and people won’t die miserably. If there is anything else I want to ask for, it’s these things. I’m willing to do everything I can to help you. I only ask for your friendship.” Fred said sincerely.

Fred’s words not only moved our friends, they also deeply moved me. I knew that was Fred’s dream—a vow he had made for his friends’ wishes. Even when we had nothing, he had never once forgotten all this. And now, at last, he finally had the chance to put it into practice. Whether our guests acknowledged him or accepted him, he never forgot that he was a king—a ruler who had to protect his people and take responsibility for them.

He had always been a king. That had never changed.

Many years later, when people looked back on this period of history, some people, with despicable minds, speculated about my friend’s noble deeds and believed that his actions were premeditated and had ulterior motives. Sadly, I couldn’t stop those words from spreading. I could only make sure I never let a single person who brought those words to my ears get away with it.

I know my friend. Every word he said today came from the bottom of his heart. This act might have changed something objectively, but it did not diminish the selfless original intention behind Fred’s actions.

After hearing these words, Rotis couldn’t help stepping forward and warmly hugging us. He hugged us so hard that I felt my waist was going to break. Every chieftain, including Eckdin, expressed their gratitude to us in this way.

Soon, we settled all the details about guiding the Lumburi people in growing wheat. To prevent accidents, we didn’t rush to spread the technique everywhere, but only agreed to let five tribes, including the Great Bull, the Running Wolf, and the Wild Horse, try planting it this year. This is how we thought about it: if a large-scale crop failure happened because of the weather, the supply line Hugh had opened for us could still support these tribes’ survival needs. If we invested too much manpower at once, we would have no way to make up for it.

“…Only this year, friends, just this year. If nothing unexpected happens, I believe next year we will have more abundant food reserves and more seeds. At that time, I promise, more tribes will join in. We will pile the entire Holy Fox Highlands full of bread…” Fred said warmly to our guests.

Our prudence won the trust of our Lumburi friends, and it also strengthened their confidence even more.

No one knew that this crop would change the way of life of all the native people in the highlands. From then on, the Holy Fox Highlands began an unprecedented great transformation and started down the fast track toward modern civilization.

All of this started with bread.