Read Online Lord of Mountains: A Novel of the Change by S. M. Stirling - Free Book Online
Authors: S. M. Stirling
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leaves tied with twisted straw, some honey from the package his mother had sent, and a canteen of watered wine.
Huon sawed and slapped together a set of massive sandwiches, while Lioncel struggled with the top of the honey jar. Then they signed themselves, said grace and tore into the food with the thoughtless voracity of hardworking teenagers who’d gone six hours since the morning’s porridge and raisins.
“This is
good
cheese!” Huon said after a moment.
Most of the cheese you got with the army was just…cheese, issued in big blocks to groups. Even in the royal household, when they were in the field themselves; Mathilda was a stickler for not dragging too much in the way of personal comforts in the baggage train, and the Grand Constable was notorious for seeing that nobody exceeded what was allowedin the Table of Ranks. Huon didn’t mind; enduring hardship was a knightly duty, the cheese was usually not too moldy, and it made dry bread or the rocklike double-baked hardtack the troops called
dog biscuit
go down a lot better, especially if you could toast it over a campfire.
This was quite different, firm but not hard or rubbery either, with a rich lingering taste that was just a little sour-sharp, and bits of hot pepper had been worked into the curd and cured with it. He hadn’t had better, even as the last course at a banquet.
“My brother Diomede sent it up from Tillamook even though he’s absolutely
green
that I’m here and he’s stuck there,” Lioncel said. “He’s not a bad kid, and Anne’s a good mistress to serve.”
Huon nodded; Tillamook cheese was famous, and had been even before the Change. Nowadays it was traded all over the Association territories and even beyond.
“The wine’s from Montinore,” Lioncel went on. “Our home manor near Castle Ath.”
It was good too, though the water didn’t help, but he already knew better than to drink it straight with work to do and half a day ahead of him. The honey was
really
good; mostly clover but with fruit flavors, he thought.
“We live…lived in Castle Gervais full time,” Huon said; the castle and lands were under a Crown-appointed seneschal right now, while he was underage. “My mother liked it that way.”
Better not to think about that,
he added to himself, and went on:
“I’m going to build a manor house south of town when I’m Baron. It’s a pain keeping the Castle Gervais quarters warm in winter. The wet moat means the concrete weeps during the Black Months; the amount of wood we go through is unbelievable. Why live like you’re under siege until you’re
really
under siege?”
Lioncel nodded. “My lady mother says she had to pretty well
drag
Baroness d’Ath out of the castle to the Montinore manor house after I was born…it was built a long time before the Change, it’s really cool, and it didn’t have to be worked over much. It was in the Crown demesne before we were…that is, before Lady d’Ath…was given the land in fief.”
“It’s weird, the way they forgot how to build something you could live in just before the Change,” Huon agreed. “A lot of them don’t even have
fireplaces
. Creepy! No wonder God sent a judgment on them! Gervais town doesn’t have much from before the Change. It all burned down. The new town’s modern, half-timbered stuff mostly, my parents oversaw that after the castle was built. Yseult can remember some of that, but I can’t.”
“You’re lucky to have it all modern. Refitting is a pain, my lady my mother talks about how much it costs. We’re only now getting all the villages up to scratch. Well, we would be except for the war delaying things.”
“Hand me some of that honey, will you?” Huon said, then poured it on a heel of the maslin. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad you had the bread,” Lioncel said, with his own mouth full. “Mom has these special hives in the gardens at the manor, or near the turn-out pasture or the demesne orchards, and it feels sort of funny to
Huon sawed and slapped together a set of massive sandwiches, while Lioncel struggled with the top of the honey jar. Then they signed themselves, said grace and tore into the food with the thoughtless voracity of hardworking teenagers who’d gone six hours since the morning’s porridge and raisins.
“This is
good
cheese!” Huon said after a moment.
Most of the cheese you got with the army was just…cheese, issued in big blocks to groups. Even in the royal household, when they were in the field themselves; Mathilda was a stickler for not dragging too much in the way of personal comforts in the baggage train, and the Grand Constable was notorious for seeing that nobody exceeded what was allowedin the Table of Ranks. Huon didn’t mind; enduring hardship was a knightly duty, the cheese was usually not too moldy, and it made dry bread or the rocklike double-baked hardtack the troops called
dog biscuit
go down a lot better, especially if you could toast it over a campfire.
This was quite different, firm but not hard or rubbery either, with a rich lingering taste that was just a little sour-sharp, and bits of hot pepper had been worked into the curd and cured with it. He hadn’t had better, even as the last course at a banquet.
“My brother Diomede sent it up from Tillamook even though he’s absolutely
green
that I’m here and he’s stuck there,” Lioncel said. “He’s not a bad kid, and Anne’s a good mistress to serve.”
Huon nodded; Tillamook cheese was famous, and had been even before the Change. Nowadays it was traded all over the Association territories and even beyond.
“The wine’s from Montinore,” Lioncel went on. “Our home manor near Castle Ath.”
It was good too, though the water didn’t help, but he already knew better than to drink it straight with work to do and half a day ahead of him. The honey was
really
good; mostly clover but with fruit flavors, he thought.
“We live…lived in Castle Gervais full time,” Huon said; the castle and lands were under a Crown-appointed seneschal right now, while he was underage. “My mother liked it that way.”
Better not to think about that,
he added to himself, and went on:
“I’m going to build a manor house south of town when I’m Baron. It’s a pain keeping the Castle Gervais quarters warm in winter. The wet moat means the concrete weeps during the Black Months; the amount of wood we go through is unbelievable. Why live like you’re under siege until you’re
really
under siege?”
Lioncel nodded. “My lady mother says she had to pretty well
drag
Baroness d’Ath out of the castle to the Montinore manor house after I was born…it was built a long time before the Change, it’s really cool, and it didn’t have to be worked over much. It was in the Crown demesne before we were…that is, before Lady d’Ath…was given the land in fief.”
“It’s weird, the way they forgot how to build something you could live in just before the Change,” Huon agreed. “A lot of them don’t even have
fireplaces
. Creepy! No wonder God sent a judgment on them! Gervais town doesn’t have much from before the Change. It all burned down. The new town’s modern, half-timbered stuff mostly, my parents oversaw that after the castle was built. Yseult can remember some of that, but I can’t.”
“You’re lucky to have it all modern. Refitting is a pain, my lady my mother talks about how much it costs. We’re only now getting all the villages up to scratch. Well, we would be except for the war delaying things.”
“Hand me some of that honey, will you?” Huon said, then poured it on a heel of the maslin. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad you had the bread,” Lioncel said, with his own mouth full. “Mom has these special hives in the gardens at the manor, or near the turn-out pasture or the demesne orchards, and it feels sort of funny to
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