Volume One: The Forest Knight Chapter 104: The Horse Trader Grimbert (Part Three)

After finishing his words, Berion noticed that the three of them had fallen into deep thought, sitting silently on their horses. He smiled lightly and quickly said, "Alright, after hearing such a sorrowful tale, let's not drown in inexplicable sadness. The world is never perfect; as long as we do our best and strive to help those around us, that's all we can do."

Berion’s words pulled them back from their doubts about the world. Indeed, how could one focus solely on misfortune? One must look forward with courage and face difficulties head-on.

On the morning of the third day, Berion led Huck and Bran, carrying ten thousand silver coins, a set of painted pottery, and five bars of soap, to the residence of Baron Enshima, the sheriff.

Having made an appointment beforehand, Baron Enshima was already waiting in the reception hall of his manor. The butler escorted the trio inside, and Baron Enshima warmly embraced Berion upon their meeting—after all, he was receiving a gift of money.

Though reluctant to embrace a stranger middle-aged man, Berion feigned enthusiasm and returned the gesture, feeling quite uncomfortable inside.

After the embrace, a young and beautiful maid served Berion a cup of honey water. Initially, Berion thought it strange that despite Baron Enshima’s grand house, his hospitality was so plain—offering only honey water to guests seemed too meager, even stingy by Berion’s standards.

But then he wondered, could Baron Enshima be insulting him? That would be unnecessary; Berion had come bearing gifts, and there was no prior grudge between them.

When Berion brought the gilded copper cup to his lips, a distinct fragrance struck him. His heart skipped a beat, recognizing the scent from a previous experience in Valonbray. He could hardly believe Baron Enshima would use such a precious drink to serve him.

He quickly took a sip. The liquid was silky and smooth on his tongue, unfolding a rich and harmonious flavor on his palate—complex, yet never chaotic, like a perfect quartet. It was utterly delightful.

Setting the cup aside, Berion smiled at Baron Enshima and said, "Esteemed Baron Enshima, you honor me greatly by serving this golden-purple rose dew, worth more than gold. Berion Tark is truly overwhelmed."

The golden-purple rose is a rare flower deep within the Misty Mountains, named for its purple petals that shimmer with golden hues under sunlight.

When its petals are distilled into a dew and mixed with honey in warm water, the drink resembles nectar, both delicious and beneficial to health. It is known as the Rose of the Fire God, a testament to its preciousness.

Since the golden-purple rose cannot be cultivated artificially and only wild specimens can be gathered, daring hunters form expeditions each blooming season to find them in the remote, harsh environments of the Misty Mountains. They sell their harvests to the Flower Dew Guild for far higher earnings than hunting game.

These hunters, called Golden-Purple Rose Hunters, face dangers surpassing those of bear or wolf hunting. The flowers grow only in desolate areas filled with ferocious beasts, venomous insects, and snakes. On average, every found rose costs a hunter’s life or serious injury, which explains its exorbitant price.

A single fresh golden-purple rose, regardless of size, commands at least three times its weight in gold coins, an amount hunters demand before selling. Ten roses produce one portion of the dew, priced at a minimum of fifty gold coins. While people commonly say it’s worth as much as gold, that actually understates its value—it’s more precious than gold.

Thus, Berion’s astonishment was justified; Baron Enshima’s choice to serve such an expensive beverage was extraordinary. Even the House of Count Gribber would not casually offer golden-purple rose dew to unimportant guests.

Seeing Berion’s appreciation, Baron Enshima laughed heartily. He had assumed this young man, the second son of a humble knightly family and lord of the desolate grasslands, had never tasted such a luxury.

Feigning amusement to hide his failed attempt at a subtle display, Baron Enshima said, “Rare treasures are for noble guests, Sir Berion. You’re certainly one of the esteemed here, so it’s only fitting to serve you thus.”

Berion silently cursed the sly old fox, knowing Baron Enshima’s grand reception was meant to curry favor, but the way he watched Berion drink was a clear attempt to flaunt wealth and mock the provincial youth.

But Berion had secretly tasted the golden-purple rose dew twice before, during his service at the Valonbray court with Iomer, from the treasured bottle of Grand Knight Hauber. He knew its flavor well.

Baron Enshima’s flattering words only deepened Berion’s impression that the man was a petty schemer.

After this small exchange, Baron Enshima realized pressing further would lose him dignity and jeopardize his plans to build rapport with Berion.

Berion then instructed Bran and Huck to place the money chest and gifts before Baron Enshima and open them for inspection.

Delighted at the sight of the money and gifts, Baron Enshima exclaimed, “Ah, Sir Berion, you are too generous. Paying fines is one thing, but gifting such fine goods is quite another. My lady just bought a set of that painted pottery and soap at Lady Mirabow’s salon gathering the other day.”

He cast a meaningful glance at Berion, who understood perfectly—Baron Enshima must have learned that Lady Mirabow was promoting Nolanburg’s specialty products on Berion’s behalf, hence his overtures.

Seeing the confirming look in Baron Enshima’s eyes, Berion resolved that since Lady Mirabow wished to collaborate long-term, he might as well leverage her and Count Gribber’s names in business. After all, a grand banner is necessary to attract attention and make deals.

“Oh, I see! Many thanks to Lady Mirabow, the noble lady who promised to recommend Nolanburg’s two specialties. I never expected it to happen so quickly—the sheriff’s household already has them,” Berion exclaimed with genuine surprise.

Baron Enshima’s eyes twitched for a moment but quickly returned to their usual cheerful expression. He chuckled, “Everyone in the North knows Lady Mirabow is the apple of Count Gribber’s eye. You’re quite remarkable to have gained her favor.”

Laughing, Berion mentioned Count Gribber’s name to hint at his connections. “The Count and Lady Mirabow have treated me very well; their kindness will always be remembered by Berion.”

Baron Enshima’s suspicion grew. He suspected Berion might be the illegitimate son of some high-ranking noble. In this timeline, it was common for great nobles to entrust their illegitimate children to trusted subordinates. When these children came of age, the noble father would arrange titles and lands for them and instruct influential friends to look after them as well. It was mutual assistance among the elite.

Berion was not yet twenty yet already deputy sheriff of a county and a lord with lands—already astonishing. Moreover, his martial prowess had won the favor of the highest nobility in the Duchy of Brick, indicating unusual connections.

Thus, Baron Enshima was convinced Berion was a noble’s secret son. He abandoned plans to extort more money, knowing that upsetting Berion would anger his powerful patrons. A few ill words from Berion could bring trouble upon a minor baron like himself.

Meanwhile, Berion remained blissfully unaware, still savoring the scent and taste of the golden-purple rose dew, thoroughly intoxicated by such a rare drink. Had he known Baron Enshima thought him the illegitimate offspring of a great lord, he would have been utterly vexed.

“Ah, to be favored by Count Gribber, Sir Berion, is no small feat. I realized you were no ordinary man when you defeated Sir Sorg,” Baron Enshima flattered.

Berion, thinking the baron was impressed by his grandstanding, quickly laughed it off. “Sheriff, you overpraise me. I’m just a knight under twenty with much to learn from excellent men like yourself.”

Baron Enshima, having met Berion before, knew the young man was skilled at idle talk—speaking politely and softly, never stating his opinions outright, avoiding offense or clear endorsement, skirting around important matters to avoid entanglement.

“Sir Berion, since you’re a favorite of Count Gribber, I cannot collect your ransom as usual. Here’s what we'll do: I’ll keep the pottery and soap, take half the coins from the chest, and you take the rest,” Baron Enshima decided after careful thought, willing to forgo half the payment to curry favor.

Berion understood the man’s intent but knew if he took five thousand denars away, though Baron Enshima would feign pleasure, his heart would be displeased.

“My sheriff, that won’t do. Since I brought this money, there’s no reason for me to leave without it. If you want to offer me a favor, just give me a discount when I dine or stay at your tavern,” Berion said with a smile.

Baron Enshima clapped his hands laughing, seeing promise in the young man. “Very well. From now on, when you dine in my tavern, meals under fifty denars are free; above that, half-price.”

This was a generous offer. Berion thanked him promptly. Then Baron Enshima happily invited Berion to lunch, boasting that his private chef was far superior to the tavern’s. Berion must savor it, or his visit would be in vain.

Berion thought, better to accept graciously. After all, he had spent ten thousand denars; to leave empty-handed would sting. A costly meal was a small price.

Fortunately, the meal’s quality surpassed the tavern’s fare. This showed that, regardless of era, fine cuisine existed but was inaccessible to common folk. Hence, later historians, relying on peasant recipes, concluded medieval diets were generally poor.

As they ate, a guard entered, handing Baron Enshima a letter sealed with a noble’s crest and adorned with two feathers—a sign of urgency. Baron Enshima opened it and his expression darkened.

He exclaimed, “The Valendi are about to wage war on us!”

Berion, puzzled, was about to ask when Baron Enshima continued, “Valendi’s Viscount Milcor crossed the Blue Mountains and raided several villages in the Highland Province.”