Chapter 18: Preparing for the Journey (2)

　As the sun sank behind the mountains, a large wagon body under construction in the village square glowed in the sunset.

　It was modeled after a large covered wagon, but its arched canvas roof had been replaced by metal paneling, making it resemble a small hut.

　A special alloy made the metal panels thin, light, and durable, minimizing the burden on the horses. The village children explained the construction to me on behalf of the busy craftspeople, leaving me slightly better informed about their craft.

　At last, Dolph attached the large wheels while the villagers and I watched.

　A barrel of liquor was brought out to celebrate the wagon’s completion, and the craftspeople cheered.

“Flora, Gilbert, come on, let’s take a look inside.”

　Barbara called to us, and I approached the door at the rear of the wagon. Excited, I opened it—and…

“What?!”

“W-what’s this…?!”

　Gilbert and I were both stunned.

　Dolph, Barbara, the craftspeople, and even the village children watched in amusement, delighted that their prank had succeeded.

　From outside, the wagon body resembled a small hut, but beyond the door it was more than twice as spacious as it appeared. Its exterior and interior dimensions plainly didn’t match. Bunk beds stood along one wall, and a small cooking hearth occupied the corner to the right of the entrance.

“Is this also magic…?”

　Unable to form any other question, I asked whether it was magic. Barbara nodded with a broad smile, as if the answer were obvious, and Dolph released his loudest laugh of the day.

　Apparently several people in the village besides Barbara could use magic, and the wagon was a special creation made through the combined work of craftspeople and magic users. It might have been late to realize it, but this truly was an extraordinary village.

“It’ll still be somewhat cramped for four adults. But we’ll take turns driving during the journey, so I think we can manage.”

“Can horses really pull this…?”

　Gilbert asked.

　Considering the solid timber walls inside, Gilbert’s concern about the wagon’s weight was understandable.

“The weight is the same as a normal covered wagon.”

　Dolph’s answer reminded me of the leather tool bag I had made earlier, and I understood. Gilbert still looked doubtful.

　Afterward, we held a feast beneath the stars in the center of the village, both to celebrate the wagon’s completion and to thank everyone who had worked on it.

　At the children’s enthusiastic request, I made duck soup again that evening.

　Everyone also worked together to prepare the banquet’s main course, the village’s traditional celebratory dish.

　On a huge griddle as wide as my outstretched arms, we arranged meat, fish, peeled potatoes, and vegetables, then filled the gaps with rice, a rarity in this kingdom. After adding a little water and seasoning everything with spices and rock salt, we covered it with layers of butterbur, bayberry, and magnolia leaves.

　The iron griddle had a raised rim about a hand’s breadth deep. The leaves formed a lid, and a round iron plate was placed over them as a weight.

　We dug a shallow hollow in the ground, filled it with charcoal from the forge, set the griddle inside, and covered it with more charcoal to steam the food within the leaves. Because the leaves held abundant moisture and little oil, they didn’t burn easily. It was a bold cooking method unique to the Blacksmiths’ Village.

　Once the food had steamed, we removed the charcoal above it. The large, unburned magnolia leaves were rinsed with water and used as plates.

　Already drunk, the craftspeople sang unfamiliar songs in high spirits while the children danced around them.

“It’s lively, isn’t it? This feast both celebrates your departure and welcomes you home safely.”

“You celebrate our return before we’ve even left?”

“Yes. It’s a rather shameless bit of wishful thinking: if we celebrate your safe return in advance, then you must come home safely. But it isn’t such a bad idea, is it?”

　Barbara smiled, and I returned the smile with a nod.

　Everything since my arrival in the village had been delightful. Although I had left the royal capital only recently, its bitter memories already seemed part of the distant past.

　After the banquet, we began loading our luggage into the wagon so we could depart that very evening.

“Isn’t this a little soon…? We could leave tomorrow morning…”

“What are you saying, Gilbert? You want to catch up with Lionel as soon as possible, don’t you?”

“That’s… true. I’m sorry, Old Man Dolph. Thank you for everything…”

“Thank me once everything is over. And make sure you earn enough to pay for the liquor.”

　Hearing Gilbert and Dolph speak, I steeled myself. Our destination lay in the kingdom’s north, and we were heading toward a battlefield. I couldn’t remain merely happy and excited.

　I pulled myself together, straightened my back, and began carrying luggage. Then Dolph suddenly tapped my shoulder.

“Flora, don’t tense up. Whether you enjoy the moment or wear a solemn face, the result will be the same. Things will go better if you relax.”

　With a smile, Dolph returned to loading the wagon. I took a deep breath and followed.

　There might not be much I could do. Still, I hoped that, along with the happy memories I carried, I could be of some help to the people who had grown so dear to me in only two days.

　Before we left, the village children gave me a small wooden statue of the Goddess.

“The lumberjack brought us a nice piece of wood today, so I made this!”

　The boy, about ten years old, grinned proudly. He told me he wanted to become a sculptor. Though small, the statue was intricately carved and beautiful.

“I helped too! Look here!”

　A little girl pointed to the small flower ornament decorating the earthen base beneath the Goddess’s feet. The flowers were slightly misshapen in the way of a young child’s work, which made them all the more endearing.

“Big Sis, make us more soup when you come back!”

“If I had to name it, I’d call it the Soup-Prayer Goddess.”

　The boy who had carved the Goddess spoke proudly. His pleasure at how much I liked it warmed my heart, as did the thought that the little statue held the children’s prayers.

　Before I came to the village, I had possessed nothing but the travel money Chelsea gave me and a few belongings. Somehow, I had already gained many wonderful treasures here.

Asian bog myrtle; Yamamomo leaves.

Japanese big leaf magnolia

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