Butchering and Absence
The day after we went shopping, the Myne Workshop kids helped us carry the goods Benno ordered to the temple. The kids, wearing their new thick clothing, piled the goods on newly purchased carts and traveled between the orphanage and the Gilberta Company. Half of it went to my chambers, but a lot of it was for the orphanage too. They were also bringing in tools that would be used for the pig butchering.
“Take out the goods here and give anything for the director chambers to Gil. Then take firewood and food to the basement of the girls’ building, and take firewood and tools to the basement of the boys’ building.”
Fran checked the contents of each cart as it arrived and directed where they were to be brought. They weren’t spread equally since the girls’ building had the kitchen, whereas the boys’ basement had been turned into the Myne Workshop. Wilma was managing the preserved food, and managed the key that kept the door to it locked. Everybody would suffer if the orphanage ran out of food midway through winter.
The gray priests and shrine maidens were taking the goods to their respective basements, and the children were helping while chattering excitedly. Lutz started to speak while watching them.
“My family said they’d help with the orphanage’s pig butchering too. Dad hasn’t come out and said it, but I think he kinda feels like he owes the High Priest.”
Despite the fact that Deid was stubborn and tight-lipped, it seemed that he was grateful to the High Priest for providing him with an opportunity to talk things out.
“But like, the High Priest’s a noble, yeah? There’s not much we can give him as thanks. So Dad’s gonna help the orphanage instead. One thing led to another, and now my whole family’s helping.”
“Your whole family... Isn’t Deid going a bit too far?”
Lutz’s immediate family consisted almost entirely of men, which would be a big help here, but I was a little worried about whether or not everyone would be enthusiastic about helping the orphanage.
“Don’t sweat it. My brothers didn’t seem worried, and Mom was all for helping too.”
“I think things might just go well with your family helping, Lutz. Now I’m looking forward to the pig butchering!” I gave a happy laugh, but Lutz just looked at me with a grimace.
“Why do you think you’re going too? You always get sick around this time of year, and last time you got a fever in the cart and had to be rushed back to the gate. No way are we gonna bring you to a butchering filled with newbies.”
“Th-That makes sense, but... my mom’s pregnant and I’ll be a big sister next year, so I wanted to participate this time for sure so I could learn how it works.”
I felt like I could finally dig out an animal’s guts without crying at the sight of the bloody corpse, and yet they were saying I couldn’t go at all. It was too cruel. I had even planned to go so that I could learn to help the neighborhood butcher a pig when the time came.
“It’s not gonna happen. You wouldn’t be able to work there with the orphanage people around, anyway. And you’d get a fever for sure if you watched us work outside all day. How’re you gonna make the, uh, hide glue stuff if you’re sick?” Lutz listed off reason after reason why I couldn’t go. The sad thing was I couldn’t argue at all.
“You’re staying home, Myne. Use that time to figure out how to fix your money problems. This is like, uuuh, what was it you said? The right person for the right job?”
“I’ve dug my own grave...”
On the morning of the pig butchering day, my family and Lutz’s family gathered at the well to talk things over. Things ended with me, Dad, and Tuuli heading to the orphanage. That way they could get me to where I was staying while Dad and Tuuli organized the orphans, got what they needed from the orphanage, and led them to the butchering grounds.
Lutz headed to the meat store as an apprentice of the Gilberta Company and then went to the farming town with the butchers, while his mom and my mom went to the town first to prepare the smoking building, draw water, and so on.
“Now then, please split into your groups and begin today’s work. The butcher group will push the carts and depart. The home group will clean the temple and orphanage, then prepare soup for dinner.”
Fran split those in the orphanage into two groups. All adult gray priests were participating in the butchering, excluding a few to watch over the kids.
“Dad, be sure to bring back all the pig skin for me. I need it for the hide glue. I can survive without the bones or organs, but the skin is absolutely vital. Do everything you can to get it.” I emphasized how important to me the skin was, and Dad patted my head while grinning.
“Yeah, you got it. Just sit nice and pretty in your room for me. Make sure not to get sick, too. Lutz said you’ve got some important work to do after this, yeah?”
“I know. That’s why I’m staying here even though I really wanna go with you guys.” Having said everything I wanted to Dad, I headed to the carts where Tuuli and the orphans were piling equipment.
“Tuuli, take care of Delia for me.”
“Uh huh. We’ll work hard together.” Tuuli smiled at Delia, who raised her eyebrows and glared at me.
“Sister Myne, why do I have to go with them?!”
“I want you to see the world outside of the temple.”
Rosina and Wilma were staying at the temple with me, while every other attendant of mine was going to the butchering. Delia hated it, but she didn’t have an option here. I wasn’t making her go to the orphanage or anything, and now was a good time for her to bond with the other kids. She barely interacted with them otherwise, but she had gotten along with Tuuli while shopping, so I couldn’t imagine her ending up alone. Especially with Gil and Fran around.
“Myne,” said Tuuli, “what are you going to do while we’re gone?”
“Make new picture books. Rosina and Wilma will be there to help me. They both have pretty handwriting, and I need Wilma to draw the art for me.”
Rosina was my harspiel teacher first and foremost, but everyone who saw her handwriting complimented her on how beautiful it was, which made her the perfect candidate for helping me with the next picture book. Since all my male attendants were leaving, Wilma would be coming to my chambers to help. While she was at it, she would bring two girls skilled at cooking to train them in the kitchen in preparation for winter.
Rosina and I went back to my chambers after seeing everybody off. We practiced the harspiel for a bit, then Wilma arrived with the two girls.
“Now then, Nicola, Monika. Please study well so that you might learn to cook delicious food.” After giving them encouragement, I directed Rosina to take them to the kitchen.
“Sister Myne,” began Wilma, “as most blue priests are absent during the Harvest Festival, divine gifts will be quite lacking. Many priests bring their chefs with them, and some of those who remain will cook unsatisfactory meals due to knowing that their master will not be eating them. The following ten days would have been beyond miserable if we could not make soup for ourselves.”
Wilma’s words sent a shudder down my spine. Given the shortage of blue priests, I would be the only blue robe at the temple for the entire duration of the Harvest Festival. Everyone else had been sent to some farm town or another. If they all brought their chefs with them, there would be no divine gifts for the orphanage.
“There used to be many more blue priests,” continued Wilma, “such that half would leave and the divine gifts would only be diminished by half, and the remaining chefs would not be lazy so as to not embarrass their master in front of the other blue priests. But as it is now...”
She sighed and lowered her gaze. She then gently opened her brown eyes and looked at me with her usual peaceful smile. “We are able to provide for ourselves thanks to you, Sister Myne. We no longer have to sit and do nothing as children starve beneath us. You have my eternal gratitude for preparing the orphanage for winter. If there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask.”
With that said, Wilma climbed to the second floor and immediately began spreading her art utensils on the table. “Is this your next story?”
“Yes, it’s called Cinderella.” I readied my harspiel and began practicing as Wilma read the story. I had my third practice song to master, as well as another song of my own creation. My personal song this time was the classic German song The Fox That Stole The Goose, known in Japan as Kogitsune, meaning fox cub. I had technically replaced the fox with a rabbit to match the local wildlife, but don’t worry about that.
“It has been a long time since I have heard music,” mused Wilma.
“Can you play a harspiel as well, Wilma?”
“On an amateur level. You are so familiar with Rosina’s music that it would be an offense on your ears to hear me play,” said Wilma with a smile, but she was no doubt better than me. I was still a complete beginner.
“Rosina is so good I have to question what exactly an amateur level is. I would appreciate hearing you play, so that I might have a better idea.”
“It is truly nothing special, I assure you.” So she said, but she was clearly happy to have the opportunity to play music again. She took the large harspiel Rosina played with a blissful expression on her face.
The music that flowed off the plucked strings reflected Wilma’s personality well, carrying with it a soft and pleasant tone. When mixed with Wilma’s gentle voice singing a lullaby, it literally came close to putting me to sleep.
“Your music is as soft as always, Wilma,” observed Rosina.
“Perhaps that is because I lack your talents and choose slower songs when available?”
As I listened to their friendly chat, I found myself floored by just how much talent was expected from me. If Wilma was an amateur, then noble children must all be professional musicians.
“...Would it be fair to assume,” I ventured, “that this means you are good at art as well, Rosina?”
“I learned as much as I was taught, shall we say.” Considering how good Wilma’s “amateur” music was, I could guess that Rosina was a skilled artist as well. The degree to which Christine’s attendants were trained showed just how abnormal of a shrine maiden she really was.
Harspiel practice ended at third bell and we moved on to Cinderella. Now that Wilma had finished reading it, we could discuss which illustrations to put in it.
“It will be difficult to properly represent Cinderella’s beauty, I believe. Having only one color to use for the skin is quite a shame,” observed Wilma.
“Is the skin so important? Could we not make the stepmother and stepsisters ugly in shape and size?” I asked.
“That wouldn’t do. Any woman fit to be a mednoble’s second wife must be beautiful.”
The stepmother and stepsisters were meant to contrast with Cinderella’s beauty. I would rather reality not be brought into it. As I fell into thought, Rosina looked over the story and made a suggestion.
“Sister Myne, would it not be better to simply remake the template for the children’s bible, rather than worry over this new story? I believe it is still too early for you to write stories about the nobility. At the very least, it would be best for you to grow more accustomed to the ways of the temple first.”
The High Priest’s criticism was harsh enough, but now even Rosina was pointing out that I was painfully ignorant of noble society.
“I mean, personally, I would like to get Cinderella made so I can see whether people will accept a normal story.”
“Sister Myne, that is something you cannot say until you know how to write a normal story in the first place.” Rosina shook her head as Wilma chided her for being too harsh. Which meant, in other words, Wilma didn’t think Cinderella was a normal story either.
“...Is Cinderella not a normal story?”
“A normal story is about the founding of a kingdom, about knights, or about the gods. I have never heard of a story like this Cinderella before,” said Rosina. It seemed that all the stories she had heard under Christine’s tutelage had been expressed through art. Art, music, and even poetry based on the stories, in other words. I would need to learn more about that before I could write a picture book that would be accepted by the nobility.
“Between the children’s bible and Cinderella, which do you think the nobility would be more likely to accept?”
“The children’s bible. It is knowledge essential for any child to know, and it is composed in a very easy to understand way.” The firmness of Rosina’s reply convinced me to abandon Cinderella. Making a book that might not be accepted wouldn’t be wise when I could make one guaranteed to sell well instead.
“In that case, I will give up on Cinderella. We can craft another children’s bible instead. Rosina, would you tell me those normal stories of yours later? I would like to make them into picture books.”
“They are necessary for your education regardless. I will gladly tell them whenever you wish.”
We took one children’s bible apart and split the pages in half to separate the text from the art. We then placed the art on top of the thick paper that we were going to use for Cinderella’s template and cut out the black parts. That should result in art identical to what we had before. Rosina and Wilma got right to work cutting out the art once they got Lutz’s precision knife from the workshop.
“Sister Myne, please cut out the letters as you did last time.” Rosina offered me a job with a smile, and I nodded. She had quickly learned that I lacked the precision necessary to cut out the detailed art.
...Rosina might be way better at cutting out pretty lines, but that’s just because my hands are small. I’ll be super dexterous when I grow up! I pretended not to remember that in my Urano days I had been clumsy all the way into adulthood.
The orphanage’s dinner was finished before sixth bell. Nicola and Monika left the kitchen looking exhausted, having cooked in a kitchen large-scale for the first time. Rosina sent the chefs on their way after informing them that the food would be taken to the orphanage once Fran returned.
“...They seem to be late,” said Rosina.
“Pig butchering takes a lot of time. They will likely be arriving back just as sixth bell rings and the gates begin to close,” I replied while looking out the window. The sky was gradually darkening as the sun fell. In past years where my family waited until it was colder to butcher pigs with the neighborhood, they hadn’t gotten home until the sun had completely set. It would still be a bit until they got back.
Which was the thought on my mind when Delia arrived back at my chambers, out of breath. Perhaps due to running back or perhaps due to the cold, her cheeks were as red as apples.
“Welcome back, Delia. Did you get a lot of meat?”
“Of course! Winter won’t even be a problem with that much meat.”
I had been worried about Delia, so I let out a sigh of relief when she came back in high spirits. She had returned first to get me changed while everyone else carried the butchered pig meat to the cellar. Delia raved about how sausage was made and the different kinds of cutting techniques of the butchers while she changed me.
“Then we took a bunch of the pickled meat we had in the orphanage and hung it upside down to get smoked. It’s so weird that smoking makes it last longer. And then...” It seemed that Delia going outside and participating in the butchering with everyone had been good for her. If this marked the beginning of her spending time with the other kids, I couldn’t be happier.
“Sister Myne,” called Fran from the first floor. “Lutz said he would like to talk to you about the pig skin. Would you be able to visit the workshop when you are changed?” As I had already changed, I went down the stairs immediately.
“Gil, please guide Sister Myne there.”
“Sure.”
On the way to the workshop, I could see everyone carrying meat from the carts next to the temple gates down to the basement of the girls’ building. Dad and Tuuli were mixed into the crowd too. Holding back the urge to run over and join them, I walked inside the workshop.
“Myne, what should we do with all the skin?” said Lutz the second he saw me, pointing at the bundles of skin they had. I looked around the orphanage, then pointed at a bucket.
“You can go ahead and put it in there.”
“We don’t need to do anything to it first?”
“We’ll need to put it in lime water to get the hair out, but I don’t know how long it needs to soak. Someone will need to watch it, and it’s a bit late for that now.”
“I don’t even wanna think about wasting this skin,” said Lutz while he took out his diptych. He then glanced at me with his stylus in hand. That was my sign to start explaining.
“First, soak the skin in lime water to get rid of the hair, then peel the inner skin off from the outer skin, which we’ll use for tanning later. You’ve done this before, right Lutz?”
“I’m not too good at it, though.” Lutz shrugged and nodded me on.
“Only the inner layer is necessary for the hide glue, so I was thinking we could tan the outer layer and use it as book covers.”
“And who’s gonna tan the leather?” Lutz glared at me just like Benno might.
“...Ummm, we could ask a leather workshop?”
“Hope you have the money for it.” He was hitting me where it hurt, so I pretended not to hear him and continued.
“You then soak the inner layer in even more lime water, leave it there until it’s soft and swollen, which will get the (proteins), fats, and so on out. That happens on its own, so you can just let it sit. Then, in order to clean the lime water, wash off the hide and boil the water over a small fire for about two bells.”
“Two bells? That’s pretty long,” replied Lutz as he ran his stylus over his diptych.
“This is where things get hard. If you let the water sit at a warmth that’s just warm enough to drink, kinda like tea, the impurities will rise and fall, leaving the center clear. We want to use that clear center.” I paused, and Lutz looked up from his diptych, confused.
“...How are we gonna use just the center part?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s see where trial and error gets us.”
“Seriously? Guess we better use a smaller pot, then.”
I knew it would be possible to just remove the impurities off the top, but at the moment I couldn’t answer how to do it or how far to go. “Anyway, pour the hide glue liquid into a wood box, set it somewhere that the cold winter wind will hit it, and done. Once it’s solid, we have our hide glue.”
“Hmm. There’s so much time boiling and soaking that we’ll probably be able to make the candles along with it,” concluded Lutz as he looked over his diptych. “Alright. We’ll make the hide glue and candles tomorrow. We can finish all the stinky work in one go.”
“Sounds good! Let’s get this over with.” I shot my hand in the air, excited to be making hide glue for the first time.
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