Chapter 320: Chapter 286 – Westward to Rostem

“Many claimed that since the last time the western islanders pulled a raid was so long ago, back in the Second Empire Era, the setup of Rostem as a Fort City no longer has a point. We Rostemites disagree. To be the Shield of the West is part of our identity, our pride, and it shall never change.” - Gospodin Isvan Lesangrite, governor of Rostem, circa 490 FP.

Four days after the biweekly market and fare, Cal and her party departed Verozgrad. From there they took another express carriage to Rostem in the west, a three-day journey instead of the usual ten. Igor and Tal had accompanied them, the former to get their papers in order, while the latter to accompany them all the way to the Western Isles.

 

The young noble heir was quite surprised with the way Cal trained her students, with how all three of them ran alongside the express carriage at top speed, with other members of the party in their arms or on their backs. Tal was more fascinated by how Lumi and Ida easily kept up with the express carriage, rather relaxedly even.

 

Their fascination redoubled when they saw the various luxuries the group casually brought out when it came time for their nightly rest stops, from portable baths to warded tents, as well as delicacies being freshly cooked over the campfire.

 

Both Igor and Tal had inquired about their origin, as such gear had not yet spread that widely, and was mostly purchasable only in Paradise. Naturally Cal and her group had not hidden the origins of their enchanted gears, and directly gave the young nobles the address of the stores that sold them back at Paradise.

 

From the look in their eyes Cal could tell that there would likely be some new customers from Elmaiya for those stores soon.

 

“This is some excellent meat,” commented Igor as he munched on a skewer of grilled, marinated fatty meat. “Haven’t tasted anything quite like it before though. Mind if I ask what this is, and where I could get some for myself?”

 

“It’s a Gale Ripper’s breast meat,” replied Cal nonchalantly as she finished basting another batch with a spice-laden sauce and set them up by the campfire to grill. “We caught a few last year during our trip to Alfheim. I don’t think they live here in the south though.”

 

“A shame. The tastiest meats just had to be elusive ones indeed. I had heard of visitors from the north saying the same about our local delicacies, like the Thunderbird giblets and the haunches of a Feral Stag,” he said with a nod of understanding. “Not that they’re that common even here, mind you.”

 

“Those were pretty tasty indeed,” replied Cal. The two young nobles had brought them to a restaurant that served such delicacies on the final day of their stay in Verozgrad, and the place happened to have just received a fresh shipment of them. “Where do they come from, if they’re uncommon even here?”

 

“They’re native to the western isles and we import them from the tribes. We tried to domesticate some here before, but horribly failed, and the specimens just ran into the deep woods instead,” said the young nobleman with a sigh. “Supposedly there’s sightings of them from hunters who delved deep, but much further in, deeper than what sane people would go to.”

 

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“And I assume trying to breed them with a more domesticable breed doesn’t work well either,” noted Krystal from the side. As an experienced beast tamer herself she was familiar with such ideas, as it was still done even nowadays.

 

In the distant past, supposedly wild wolves were chosen and bred for their tameness and friendliness which resulted in the modern day dogs, while the common cow raised in so many ranches were once bred from the far more violent aurochs. Similarly the breed of Horned Lizards raised in ranches were crossbred between hornless ones which were far tamer, and the seven-horned breed that was the largest of the lot, for greater meat yield.

 

“We tried. They just never tasted the same. Not even close, father said,” replied the young noble as he took a gulp of his drink and gave a satisfied sigh as he set down the tankard. Cal had opened a barrel of good ale for the meal which everyone was all too happy to partake in. “So the gourmands amongst our nobles can only satisfy themselves with the occasional imported meat from the west.”

 

“Probably how they were raised too,” said Krystal after some thought. “After all, a beast that was raised in the wilderness would never taste the same as one raised in a closed ranch. It’s why so many still prefer game meat over ranched meats after all.”

 

“A sentiment we can all agree too,” replied Cal with a smile. She herself had not minded ranched meats and the likes, but did find them less flavorful compared to meat from wild beasts caught in a hunt or otherwise. “There’s often just… something missing from the taste of animals that were cooped up all their life and raised entirely for their flesh.”

 

“Sadly the case, madam,” replied Tal as well from where he sat. “If someone ever found a way to raise animals in a ranch while keeping their flavor the way they would have been if they were raised in the wild, that person would probably become a rich man.”

 

“Sadly that will remain a dream for now.”

 

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On the evening of the third day of their journey by carriage, they saw the walls of Rostem, the high walls built for defense, steep and smoothed on the outside to prevent attackers from climbing it, while the top was wide enough for four soldiers to walk side by side.

 

The entire city itself was a proper fortification, with many of the residents living in houses built outside the city walls. On the west side of the city, by the shoreline, was a bustling port that was considered part of the city as well, and the main gateway between Western Elmaiya and the Western Isles proper.

 

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