BUFFALO STEAK IN BACCHUS SAUCE
By: Matt Taylor
NOTES: Sort of a sequel to "Midnight in Mor Dhona," it at least takes place in the same world.
It was a commonly held belief that the nobles of Ishgard were incapable of openly telling the truth about how they felt about each other. The rules of polite society were so integral to the way this odd strata of society operated, that the idea of being openly honest about fellow nobles would lead to many a duel challenge. Or perhaps just a continuation of the legendary feuds which often went along with royal gossip in Ishgard.
As Y'shtola turned her attention away from the calming sound of the waves, and feel of the sea-breeze, she thought that she could only imagine what holding such feelings in for so long would do to someone. As she sat in the rooftop dining area of Byrglaent's winery in Wineport, she thought that perhaps it sounded like what she was hearing right now.
"I swear Y'shtola, It's gotten to the point that I can't go into the market without being accosted."
Lord Aymeric, one time Lord Commander of the Ishgardian Temple Knights, and Speaker of the House of Lords, was looking as perturbed as she had ever seen him, which was surprising. Lord Aymeric was famous among friend and foe for his ability to appear unperturbed no matter the situation. Perhaps it was the wine. Wineport's name was chosen for a reason, after all.
"It would seem, my lord that you have me at a disadvantage." She said, sipping from her own wineglass.
"My lord refers to his new status as Ishgard's most eligible bachelor." The man who had spoken was an elderly Elezen, who stood at his lord's side and just behind his chair, his back ramrod straight, and a towel hanging from his immaculately dressed arm.
"Is that what I am now, Theobold? Have I not spent enough time the last few years with a target on my back? At least then it was for knives, now it is for lordlings." Aymeric took a sip from his own wineglass, and put it down in a maneuver that was just short of a slam. He had been waiting to say this for quite some time it seemed.
"It's gotten to the point that I can't even go into the Market without "accidentally" running into some lord, and his daughter, who, I'm certain by total coincidence, just happens to be of marriageable age. Stunning really, that fact, and that my comings and goings now seem to be public knowledge."
The sarcasm was truly withering.
"I'm afraid I can't help you my lord," said a high pitched voice coming from Y'shtola's right side. Next to her was a Lalafel, and while she could only "see" him through his bodies aether, and while she would say that she could actually see much better than other people, this sort of vision did leave some things out. Such as the physical characteristics of Shamani Lohmani. Like her he was blind, and had chosen to cover his eyes with a large pair of jet-black sunglasses, and he possessed shock white hair. He was also, like this place's owner, a vintner. He was also a former adventurer and member of the famous "Company of Heroes."
"My expertise has never really gone towards romance and its various entanglements. Of all the old Company members, you would be better going to Riol or Landenel for that kind of thing."
"I apologize Master Lohmani. I came to Wineport to get away from my troubles for a short time." Aymeric sighed. "It just seems that I everytime I am forced to attend a ball or some kind of get-together…."
"Which allows him to keep better in touch with the noble and merchant classes." The elderly Elezen butler said.
"Yes Theobold." Aymeric managed to keep any emotion from showing on his face. Clearly this was a conversation they had had before. "Whenever I go to such a place, I cannot go ten minutes without accidentally bumping into a lordling with a marriageable daughter, or said daughter herself. It's so two faced and manipulative I can't stand it.
"The last one was the worst of the lot. Attractive enough really, but then she started giggling. Giggling! And in such a way that if she hadn't been an actual living being, I would have assumed it was some sort of half-baked ventriloquism. She then actually used the phrase "Tee-hee." Not laughing mind you, but actually said the words! In response to something that wasn't even meant to be humorous! I didn't think anyone actually used that word!"
"That giggler, my lord, was the daughter of Lord Dzemael, and one of the most important nobles in the kingdom. That makes her a top candidate for you hand." Theobold said, without expression.
"Candidate!? Apparently there is now some sort of official competition! Is there a betting pool up at the Forgotten Knight now, Theobold! Is there a second place prize, perhaps? First place gets to marry me, second place gets a year of free drinks!? Maybe that's it."
"I would not know my lord, I do not frequent such places." The butler said, looking properly irked at the mention of the somewhat low-class bar. "But it is clear that the best way to end this is to choose one, just as the young Count Fortemps did."
Aymeric visibly winced.
"I had heard that Artoirel had married while we were…away." Came a voice from the end of the table. At the end was a small grill and oven, set-up for tableside preparation, and the man operating it was Y'shtola's lover, Tarz Kolheim, a tall Hyur of Highland descent. Warrior, Scion, and known across Eorzea as the Warrior of Light. "Who is the lucky girl?"
"Neshera Tolariel, a daughter of one of the lesser noble houses. Apparently it was arranged for him when he was a child. From what I have heard they are friendly enough to each other, and House Tolariel had gained a great deal of influence and wealth by supporting the growing use of Magitek through Skysteel Manufactory." Aymeric said.
"Well, so long as she's not some gold digger." Tarz cared little for the way noble's operated, and knowing that a friend of his was marrying for political reasons irked him in a way that he couldn't quite describe properly. Maybe it was the romantic in him.
"She isn't as far as I know." Aymeric said. "If anything, in terms of pure numbers, her house is wealthier than his nowadays."
"I wonder if marrying for loveless duty and political advantage is the reason so many nobles seem to fall into scandal and infamy over the years?" Y'shtola asked, a thoughtful look on her face.
"Another reason I want to avoid it." Aymeric said, quiet disgust still obvious in his voice. "But it may be that I have no choice in it, as Theobold here is so quick to remind me. What was the reason you said for that Theobold?"
"As designated leader of Ishgard," Aymeric did a stunningly good job at keeping his eye-roll under control at his butler's words. "A strong stable family and marriage for said leader, will show the common and merchant classes that Ishgard has a strong future, despite all the political upheaval brought about by the Archbishop's actions."
"An Archbishop who is still quietly revered by multiple parties within the nation." To be fair, the butler did sigh at this, despite what differences there was between them where the young lord's love-life was concerned, they agreed on the former Arch-Bishop's actions. "A problem that has offered no clear answer yet."
"Indeed. It seems like I am going to have to wait for that generation to die off, before any real change can come to the nation."
"Another reason why a marriage to the right girl would benefit my Lord and the city. It would show that he is not completely against Ishgard's traditions." The Butler.
"I never was, Theobold." Aymeric said, seemingly regaining his calm.
It was then that they heard the door to the lower levels open, and through it came an interesting sight. It was a Roegadyn dressed in the attire of the master vintner's of Wineport, his race's characteristic trait of big, rough and forceful, weakened by his oddly thin moustache.
"Good evening all! May I ask how you are enjoying yourselves?" he asked, brightly.
"Wonderful, Master Byrglaent." Aymeric said, his previous irritation disappearing in a split-second for his normal controlled contralto. "It has been quite awhile since I have tasted the Bacchus wine, it pleases me to know that despite all the changes we've had to go through the last several years, that this only improves."
Byrglaent let out a laugh. "You flatter me, my lord."
"I agree with him." Shamani said, holding up his glass. "The wait I went through for this taste was worth every second."
The large Roegadyn seemed genuinely moved at that. "With out the help of yourself and master Kolheim," He motioned to Tarz, still at his place behind the grill "This day might never have come."
"Quite" Y'shtola said. She picked up one of the bottle from the table and took a look at it. It was made of dark glass, that hid any sight of the liquid within. The label on the front was white in color, decorated with a picture of a wooden chair set at an angle, with a large axe leaning against its back, and on the seat was a pair of dark sunglasses. On the wall in the back of the picture was the symbol for Byrglaent's winery. A bunch of grapes, tried at the top with a ribbon that ended with a golden star attached to it.
Byrglaent sat down on a spare seat. "I was worried greatly how this new Bacchus would go over. You might be interested to know Tarz, that after you recovered that vine, I sent several more adventurers down south to look for anymore. They came back with six more vines!"
Shamani jerked upwards in surprise. "Byrglaent, did any of them see Drest?"
"That man? Aye they saw him, reported it to me. I had the man covertly sent back to his homeland. Paid a few of the more trustworthy pirates in the area to see to it. According to them, he's back with his family, though I can't speak for his mental state."
"I see. I suppose that's the best he can hope for, really. At least he's back with his family again." The Lalafell said.
"Agreed," Y'shtola spoke. "When I heard about that man, I considered going to look for him, and seeing about getting him out of here. But then we had one world threatening problem after the other, and I never got around to it."
"All in all, those expeditions were positive for all involved." Byrglaent spoke. "Not that I didn't have any problems from the whole thing, mind you. Once word got out about this discovery, a bunch of Botanists from Gridania showed up at my door. Had the nerve to demand, demand mind you, I turn the vines over to them for transfer to the guild halls. Claimed that the city that grew the vine for centuries was "unfit" to bring this plant back from extinction!"
Byrglaent sounded suitably outraged at the idea.
"Etgar said that he reported them to the guildmaster, but they said that they would be back. They haven't yet, and they can stay away as far as I'm concerned."
"Master Kolheim! I really must insist that you not use the Bacchus wine in such a way!"
Y'shtola turned her head from the conversation to whatever was going on at the end of the table. Her lover was pouring wine from a bottle into the frying pan in front of him, the smell of meat rising up from it in an enticing wave.
The man who had voiced the complaint was a somewhat effeminate Hyur standing next to him, dressed in the attire of the Botanist guild, and wearing an surprisingly clean wood axe on his back was Etgar, a longtime contact for Wineport with the Botanist's guild in Gridania, and a longtime associate of Master Byrglaent himself.
"Calm down Etgar!" Tarz said. "Chef's have used wine as a sauce for centuries, just ask the cooks at the Bismarck about it."
"I must counter that argument. The Bacchus is too fine a wine to throw into a frying pan in such a way. It must be savored, and under its own strengths. Surely this Buffalo meat you're frying up cannot do anything but strangle it!"
Byrglaent let out a loud laugh.
"Come now Etgar, I thought you were practically an expert on the uses of the Bacchus? You of all people should know that the original wine recipe was made in part to support meat from the local Buffalo?"
"I'm sorry Master, but I feel that after the terror of the last several years, the return of the Bacchus as a drink should be our priority. It's always been my personal opinion that food should act as support to the wine!"
"Instead of the other way around, you mean?" Tarz said, smirking just slightly. "I'll have you know Etgar, that this recipe I'm using came from the personal recipe book of Lyngsath Hyllbornsyn himself, my own personal teacher."
"Ah, Lyngsath, even we in Ishgard have heard of his name." Aymeric said, casually swishing the wine in his glass.
"I wondered often why you spent so much of your free time at the Bismarck, darling." Y'shtola said, resting her chin on her threaded fingers, as she looked at him.
"If you're going to learn, you might as well learn from the best, I say. The Bismarck is always looking for potential culinarians, and its trained most of the personal chefs for every noble house from here to Kugane."
"There, you see Etgar, we have nothing to fear." Byrglaent said. The botanist merely rolled his eyes, and sighed.
Tarz threw in a few sprigs of Basil and Thyme, and added a pinch of salt and white pepper. The Buffalo meat was cut into thin strips, browning within the wine as it reduced down to a sauce. On the stove next to it, a large bowl of boiling water was bubbling away nicely.
"According to Lyngsath, noodles from Ul'dah will work the best with the sauce and meat." Tarz said. "The Lalafel there make these noodles from a powerful wheat that grows in the more fertile parts of the desert."
"I don't suppose it's the same wheat they make their spirits with?" Y'shtola asked. It was well known that the Lalafel spirit distillery's of Ul'dah were second to none in both, quality, and strength, which made tasting the stuff an true…..experience, and not something for the uninitiated.
"One and the same!"
"Ah, we've got a few bottles of that stuff downstairs! Don't tell anyone, there are people here who think that any drink other than wine in this town will cause some horrible curse to fall on us all."
The master vintner laughed uproariously at this.
For a few minutes, everyone was quiet, and the only thing breaking the silence was the sound of ocean breeze. Y'shtola found herself watching her lover mostly. Aetheric vision really opened up so many things. She saw the way the ether moved in his body, the way it flowed from one place to the next as he moved the pan and spatula across the flames. She found herself smiling, gently.
"Alas, Lord Aymeric, I'm afraid I'm no help in romantic entanglements." Byrglaent spoke. "I married my first love, the most beautiful woman in the world, really, and have been with her since I was old enough to call myself an adult."
"I wish it was just a romantic entanglement, if anything it's a political entanglement."
Y'shtola was surprised to not hear Theobold say anything, she turned and saw him walking up to Tarz.
"Master Kolheim, I must insist that you let me taste my lord's meal before it is served."
Aymeric forsook all subtlety and actually looked to the sky in a look that said "Heaven help me."
"Really Theobold? Are you insinuating that the Warrior of Light himself would try to poison my meal?"
"I am sorry my lord, but after that incident with the Star Fruit Pudding at Lord Burgen's soiree, I feel it is best for me to not take chance."
"The Star fruit was rotten, Theobold, not poisoned. It was an accident. Three other people got sick at that party. Lord Burgen spent the rest of the night apologizing for it."
"I'm sorry sir, but if the cost of your safety is to be thought of as somewhat rude, then that is a price I shall pay."
Aymeric put his palm up against his face. He mouthed the words "He means well" for at least three times, before calming down.
Tarz simply smiled, as he handed the old Elezen Aymeric's plate. He took two bites from it, and set it down. For a few seconds, nothing happened.
"This is suitable for his lordship I believe." He said, and delivered the plate to his lord. Aymeric sighed, and put it aside.
Soon enough, all of them had steaming plates in front of them. Y'shtola inhaled deeply of the scent. One of the things she had noticed since losing her sight, was that it seemed her other senses had risen up to take the place of her missing sight. She found her mouth watering, as Tarz sat down next to her. The Buffalo meat and the Bacchus wine's scent seemed to mingle with each other. She doubted even Etgar would fail to give this passing marks.
"I hope this dish meets everyone's expectation." He said, raising a glass of wine up. The other's at the table did likewise. "Cheers, to old friends, and comrades."
"Cheers" came the chorus from around the table.
THE END.