Gawain's Potatoes

Walking north along the fence surrounding the farmstead, he heard dogs barking. Gawain went inside and returned to the cottage where he lived.

Camelot's nobles were falling over themselves to live in the king's castle, because only by residing there could they take part in the king's banquets, hunts, and many other court activities. They currried favor with the king's steward, Bedivere, and his elder brother, Duke Lucan, the king's steward of provisions.

Just as sunflowers always turned around the sun, anyone wishing to rise through the ranks at court could not do without the king's trust and promotion. Bedivere could arrange for nobles to appear along the king's route, while Duke Lucan could decide who appeared at the king's table. Thus, Sir Bedivere was generally regarded as the person closest to the king.

That was what power was like. Camelot Court revolved around royal authority, like concentric circles formed by sunlight.

At this time, there was no proper civil administration. Offices with real power were often held by members of the royal household close to the king, such as his steward and steward of provisions.

Yet the king's castle was only so large; it could not possibly house every noble. Thus, to solve the nobles' housing problem, Camelot Court had specifically granted them land on which to build their estates.

Gawain's home was not in the district where the nobles gathered, but in the commoners' quarter to the west. Yet for that very reason, his home was already considered large by the standards of this era.

As far as Gawain's mother was concerned, the place she truly wanted to live was not the king's castle at all, but the queen's castle.

"Stop barking!"

Gawain snapped at the neighbor's hunting dog. The dog had still been unwilling to back down and was about to bare its teeth, but upon seeing the youth who had scolded it, it immediately lowered its ears, curled up, and assumed a pleading posture.

"Wonderful, they laid eggs!"

Ignoring the neighbor's dog, Gawain leaped lightly over the fence. He came before his family's chicken coop and saw three extra eggs in the nest, a delighted expression appearing on his face.

The chickens in the coop were Dorking chickens, a native breed of Britain said to have been brought over by the Romans long ago.

Because they were small and laid few eggs, both their meat and eggs had always been regarded as luxuries on noble tables.

As for the three chickens in the coop, producing three eggs a week was already quite good.

"Good. Time to prepare breakfast!"

"Gawain, you're back."

His mother rubbed her bleary eyes. Seeing that her child Gawain had already returned home, she greeted him, then rubbed her eyes again. Only after making sure she was not seeing things did she notice a "little sun" above Gawain's head.

The reason she called it a little sun rather than a flame was that there was no scorched smell. Her witch's spiritual intuition instantly detected the subtle difference.

"Mother, breakfast is ready!"

Like a child showing off a treasure, Gawain brought out the food he had carefully prepared. He had summoned the sun to roast and dehydrate the eggs into egg powder, then used butter made from milk together with wheat flour and white sugar to make a cake with a modern flavor.

Although the ancient Egyptians had invented cakes and the Romans had spread them further, those cakes were not the same thing as modern cakes. Cakes resembling modern ones did not appear until the fourteenth century.

Marie, the queen of French King Louis XVI, had once said something along the lines of, "Why don't they eat meat porridge?" If the people could not afford bread, why did they not eat cake?

This showed that, compared to bread, cake was the staple food of the upper nobility.

"Gawain, that is not what you should use your power for!"

His mother scolded him. The sun that had been glowing and radiating heat instantly fell into darkness as though struck by an eclipse, then vanished completely.

Gawain looked a little embarrassed. The ovens in Camelot town were used to make bread, and neither their temperature nor their placement was suitable. As a result, despite coming to this world, he had never improved its food.

He had also asked Merlin why the food in the royal palace was so delicious. Merlin had answered with only one sentence: it was magic.

Combined with Merlin's claim that magic was illusion, that meant the green substance on that delicious lamb was not seasoning made with magic. It merely created an illusion. The taste was still the original taste, but magic made people feel that the food was delicious.

It was roughly like how, after starving for several days, someone would find anything they were served—whether a grand imperial feast or pearl-and-jade white soup—unbelievably delicious. Once their stomach was full, it became difficult to find it delicious anymore.

After scolding Gawain, his mother picked up a piece of the cake he had made, stuffed it into her mouth, and took a bite. A delighted expression appeared on her face.

"Is this magic? An illusion it created for me?" his mother asked.

"No. It's just an ordinary cake, a new food I invented," Gawain replied with a smile.

"If it can be popularized, you could try presenting it to the king. It might bring you prestige!"

His mother put another small piece into her mouth, and the smile on her face could not be concealed.

Medieval dining tables had always been uninspired, and England's cuisine was even more of a disaster. Delicious cake would undoubtedly claim a place on the tables of the upper classes.

"It can't be popularized. Eggs, butter, and sugar are all things ordinary people cannot afford. Eggs must be dehydrated to make egg powder, butter is extracted from milk, and sugar is even harder to obtain. Of course it would bring me prestige, but not much."

Gawain answered his mother's question. Compared to him, witches like Merlin and his mother possessed a deep understanding and awareness of the world's essence, and clearly understood the importance of prestige.

Whether it was Camelot's kingdom of knights, the shogunate's samurai rule, or Eastern dynasties governed by scholar-officials, the core was always the ruling class shaping values and guiding public opinion.

Only by upholding chivalry on the battlefield, in adventures, and in legendary tales could one be regarded as a true knight and gain prestige.

The stories Gawain had deliberately spread could earn praise, but not prestige. Different countries and regions held different views and values regarding the kinds of stories that brought prestige.

In Viking lands, returning home laden with wealth made one a hero—a great hero—earning prestige and glory. As for whether it had been stolen, to Vikings, being capable of taking money from others was undoubtedly a skill in itself.

In Greece, anyone who defeated monsters and dragons would be regarded as a hero and gain prestige.

In Camelot, if a dragon stayed peacefully in its own home, committed no evil, and even protected the people, then a knight who went to slay it would gain no prestige whatsoever.

Saint George, the model among knights, had slain a dragon because it demanded human maidens. Saint George earned respect and worship because he slew it to save an innocent maiden.

Saving the maiden was the main thing; slaying the dragon was secondary, perhaps even unimportant.

In knightly literature, if one wanted to increase prestige and power, one had to do it the Camelot way.

"By the way, have the potatoes Father sent someone to deliver arrived?"

Gawain asked as he picked up a piece of cake. Compared to making a fortune from cakes, he valued potatoes far more.

Britain's cold, damp environment made wheat yields poor. The land was barren, practically a devil's domain. Every year, they had to trouble Sir Lancelot to contact European kingdoms to purchase wheat. This also made Gawain realize that potatoes, later praised as Britain's national dish, had not yet appeared.

Historically, potatoes spread during the Age of Discovery. Only after America was discovered was this crop introduced.

In truth, Europe took two hundred years to accept this unattractive food.

It could be said that this was a product that completely changed the era and the world.

Before Christopher Columbus discovered the New World, Vikings had already visited the American New World more than five hundred years earlier during the Viking Age, only to withdraw soon afterward.

During the trial of Excalibur, Gawain had once seen memories from the past. He clearly remembered that the Kingdom of Denmark had potatoes.

Yet potatoes were called the devil's fruit. Used as trial items, their flowers were treated as decorations rather than food.

Just as the West could not lose Jerusalem, Britain could not lose its famous dish, "Stargazy Pie"—scratch that. No, mashed potatoes.

In a certain anime, that Prince Gawain was most famous for cooking delicious mashed potatoes for Arthur.

Gawain wanted to become a frontier knight and leave the capital, Camelot. With potatoes as his ultimate weapon, he could feed enough people to develop his territory without restraint.

Mordred had obtained London as his territory, and Gawain could simply choose a territory with few people and a vast expanse of land.

Without waiting for his mother's answer, Gawain continued, "I've become a frontier knight, and I'm leaving Camelot. Mother, would you be willing to come with me to the new territory? While building the castle, I'll build a large house. It will be the most comfortable residence within dozens of miles. The bottom floor will be a spacious semi-underground storeroom for grain. The ceiling will be a vaulted arch, in the Romanesque style of churches. I hear it can prevent fires. Above it will be the residential hall, which people will have to climb outdoor stairs to reach. The higher the better, so it will be easy to defend and hard to attack. We'll also build a chimney. I've noticed that many houses in Camelot do not have chimneys. Smoke fills the whole place when they cook, which is terribly inconvenient."

"I'll specifically build you a small bedroom to symbolize your noble status. You know, back in Denmark, that tiny castle had more than fifty members of the royal family. You slept together with the maidservants, while us sons slept with the hunting dogs."

Gawain imagined a wonderful future. In fact, during the early Middle Ages, even the children of ordinary nobles had no private space in their family castles.

In theory, the king and queen should have been exceptions. In practice, King Lot had rather too many queens, so the queens all slept crowded together on the floor.

Even famed medieval kings lived in cramped, foul-smelling, louse-ridden rooms, with no public toilets, no running water system, and no sewers. Everything was awkward and inconvenient.

Of course, the Camelot royal palace might be somewhat better, because the court had a magician named Merlin.

But Merlin's presence only made things slightly better.

"Gawain, thank you. But the potatoes you wanted are gone. The potatoes from that shipment were brought back by a Viking party. They were attacked by the locals there and lost quite a few companions. Although they managed to pray their way back, they were deeply traumatized and no longer dared to sail out to sea."

Gawain's mother was pleased with his attitude, but thinking of the future he had envisioned, she could not help pouring cold water over him.

The potatoes Gawain wanted were gone.

"If you want potatoes, you can only figure it out yourself." His mother smiled. "If you want something, how can you just open your mouth and have it handed to you? Without any effort at all."

"But who will lead the way? I've never been to America."

Gawain spoke blankly. It seemed things really would not be so easy.

"I've been there, I've been there! Gawain, I've been there! I was the one who sent those unlucky fellows' souls to Valhalla. They died horribly! The gods in America are so vicious!"

A lively, energetic voice rang out in the room. Gawain frowned at the young-looking Valkyrie who appeared before him.

It was Thrúd!