Jon Svenson woke up in his own private resting room, the young man sat up and saw his brother sitting in front of a small stove grilling venison—graciously provided by Sir Malin, who had asked the hunters of the Frost Giant clan to bring from the North, paying them with fine salt, wheat flour, and currency from a Firearm. The Frost Giants were very satisfied with this, and the soldiers guarding the front line were even more delighted because everyone had a piece of grilled venison the night before.
After getting used to eating sand, pebbles, and sawdust in black bread, Jon felt the joy of eating venison for the first ti once again—it was at, a big chunk of at.
"Did we have any at left from yesterday?" the elder brother rose from his bedroll.
"Sir Malin said there was so extra yesterday, so I took two pieces for breakfast," Link replied.
"You didn’t get enough last night?" Jon asked with a chuckle.
His younger brother turned his head, a little perplexed and sowhat puzzled as he tilted it.
"Our soldiers are waiting for us to inspect, you stay and eat the at, and I’ll join them for their al," Jon said, getting up to put on his uniform.
"I forgot, but no matter, we’ll finish grilling the at and bring it with us, tell the soldiers these pieces are for the wounded, let their squad leader deliver them. If we use insulated containers, the wounded should be able to have a warm al," Link’s solution made his brother nod his head with a smile.
"That’s one way to do it, but my brother, rember, Sir Malin always says that if we can’t lead by example, no one will believe what we say," Jon replied, then he sat on a chair to put on his boots.
Between the two brothers, the younger Link excelled in cooking skills, while Jon could as well, but he was better at making all kinds of soups.
Once Link had finished grilling the at, the brothers packed the roast in insulated containers and wrapped them in blankets, then left the resting room with their package.
Today there were no battles, and most of the soldiers were crouching in the weapons storage area, which had tarpaulins on top and barriers at the entrance and exit of the trenches, achieving so degree of insulation. When Jon and Link arrived, their four units were in Area 17, where over four hundred n were queuing to get breakfast from their squad leader.
Jon and Link got in line at the very end. So soldiers recognized them but were ordered by them to keep quiet.
"You guys are lucky today! It’s black bread! No sand, pebbles, or sawdust! You should thank Sir Malin!" the squad leader handing out the bread said loudly.
"You even have at soup! Made from the deer offal Sir Malin brought yesterday! There’s even fat on top!" another squad leader standing by the cauldron exclaid.
The soldiers cheered quietly—as per Sir Malin’s orders not to be loud.
"Don’t be in such a hurry to cheer, I’ve got sothing special prepared by Sir Malin himself for all the soldiers on the frontline! Honey! Just a tiny piece each, but think about it, have you ever had this stuff?!" a third squad leader questioned.
Not to ntion the soldiers, in the Northern Kingdom where harsh winters prevail, and only two or three months of sumr, honey was such a luxury that even children from the Svenson family could hardly get a spoonful a year. Jon thought about it and realized he hadn’t tasted honey since he turned fifteen, because at fifteen one was considered an adult in the Northern Kingdom.
The soldiers had no concept of honey, but sothing they had never eaten must be good. So they grew even happier in anticipation. So received their honey and the look of bliss on their faces as they put it in their mouths was undeniable—after all, sweet treats hold a place in everyone’s heart as one of the most beautiful mories.
"Look how happy you are, but here are two baked potatoes, you can save them for when you’re hungry or eat them now, because there will be more at noon. I heard these are crops grown by Sir Malin in the South, abundant and filling," the final squad leader revealed while taking out two tuberous items from a basket before him.
The line moved forward, and Jon and Link watched the soldiers happily eating their breakfast in a corner, seemingly very content with it, even the sowhat charred tubers appeared delicious.
Finally, it was Jon and Link’s turn, and the elder brother received the black bread, a bowl of soup, a tiny piece of honey, and two potatoes from the stunned squad leaders.
"Oh, here’s the roast we grilled, soone later send it over to our wounded soldiers," Link said, setting down the wrapped grilled at before he took the food.
"I’ll go. I’ve already eaten," the first squad leader said with a smile, taking the package and leaving the weapons storage area, while Link took a bite of the bread: "Not bad, really no sawdust today," the young man teased while accepting the at soup.
"Sir, your honey." The third squad leader presented a small piece of honey, but Link shook his head: "You should be discharged soon, with almost a week off. Put this in a bottle and take it ho for your child."
Link’s words moved the squad leader, who nonetheless refused adamantly, but Link placed a bottle in front of him: "Pack it up, I heard your child has just been selected for Lord Antoine’s junior artisan class. Let him study well, later on to create new-style Firearms for our Northern Kingdom, consider this honey my initial investnt."
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