Brewing

The room, with its doors and windows tightly shut, was thick with the rich scent of alcohol.

At the same time, there came the bubbling sound of liquor boiling.

"It's coming out! It's coming out!" Gavin cried excitedly as he watched the amber liquid flow from the copper still.

Samwell remained rather calm. He had seen such a scene countless times in his previous life, though his gaze was still fixed squarely on the outlet of the copper still.

As more and more liquid flowed out, Gavin could not help asking:

"My lord, may I taste it?"

"You may."

Having received permission, Gavin immediately fetched a small cup, poured himself some of the distilled liquor, and eagerly brought it to his lips.

The next instant, the young steward squeezed his eyes shut, his features scrunching together. His body trembled slightly for a moment before he finally began coughing.

"Cough, cough... cough, cough... M-my lord, that's strong!"

Samwell also filled a small cup with some liquor. He held it beneath his nose for a sniff, then drank it.

The intense flavor exploded across his mouth like roiling flames, assaulting every taste bud.

Freshly distilled wine did not actually taste very good. It was too harsh, while its aroma was lacking.

Yet Samwell burst into laughter.

Because this was precisely the flavor he had been striving for.

After blending and aging this distilled spirit, allowing it to absorb enough oak aroma and combine with the compounds produced by the oxidation of its own tannins, it would develop the distinctive, marvelous fragrance of Brandy.

He believed this flavor would surely conquer the nobles of Westeros, making Brandy an indispensable part of their banquets and a prized treasure in their cellars.

With the experiment a success, Samwell finally relaxed and asked Gavin:

"Has Busso's son joined the guards?"

"He has, my lord. I handled it personally."

"Very good."

Gavin glanced furtively at Samwell and said hesitantly:

"M-my lord, I also slipped someone else into the guards..."

"Who?" Samwell's expression revealed neither pleasure nor anger.

"A Wildling named Ucha..." Gavin grew even more uneasy.

"From Tiger Tooth Village?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, why did you do that?" Samwell was not actually angry.

Gavin had begun as his attendant and was now his steward. He was part of Samwell's inner circle, so it was only natural that he should have a little privilege.

Besides, he had come forward and confessed on his own.

"He has an older sister named Una. She's been very kind to me, and she even gave me a pair of tiger-hide gloves..."

Samwell immediately understood and smiled.

"You've taken a liking to her?"

Seeing that Samwell was not angry, Gavin secretly let out a breath and nodded.

"That's a good thing. Pick a date, and I'll personally officiate your wedding."

"Thank you, my lord!"

"After you marry, Una will be responsible for operating this still."

"Yes, my lord!" Gavin immediately understood. "I'll remind her to keep it secret."

It could not be helped. Samwell was desperately short of people he could trust, so he could only set his sights on Gavin's not-yet-married bride.

"Mm. The raw material for brewing is mountain grapes. You can first have the people gather wild ones from the mountains, but you should also begin planning large-scale cultivation. I suppose you don't know much about that?"

Gavin shook his head.

"Then ask the Wildlings. Someone among them should know..." Samwell considered it, then shook his head again. "Forget it. They may not know either. I'll teach them myself."

"You've gone to so much trouble, my lord."

Samwell waved a hand and continued:

"Gather the female Wildlings who have married over these past few days. I'll personally teach them how to grow mountain grapes, as well as the subsequent processes of harvesting, pressing, and fermentation. The distillation afterward will need to be handled by your Una. Once production expands in the future, find her some assistants. As for storage, I'll first have the carpenters make a batch of oak barrels. Then you can arrange for people to fill them with liquor."

After giving these instructions, Samwell thought for a moment and added:

"Also, each stage must be handled by different people. As much as possible, assign those related by blood to the same stage."

"Yes, my lord." Although Gavin did not understand Samwell's purpose, he nodded and committed it to memory.

"This is to minimize the possibility of anyone figuring out the entire brewing process," Samwell briefly explained.

Of course, he was not truly worried that anyone could quickly replicate Brandy.

The process looked simple, but there were many small details within it—lessons accumulated through years of practice. Even the slightest error could produce a vastly different flavor.

Anyone without experience would be doomed to take countless detours and spend a great deal of time imitating it.

Besides, he also possessed the method for making the still, the key piece of equipment.

He would never allow Busso, that smith, to leave Eagle's Beak.

Gavin could also sense how much importance Samwell placed on this brewing technique, so he reminded him:

"My lord, the smith who made this still is a resident of Highgarden. If he returns to House Mullendore after a year..."

"Don't worry. He won't be returning." Samwell smiled. "Not only him—everyone who comes to Eagle's Beak will become my subjects."

"But Viscount Martin of Highgarden will likely not agree..."

"He will, because I'll offer him terms he cannot refuse."

Gavin scratched his head. He seemed to understand something, but did not dare ask further.

Samwell did not explain any more and changed the subject.

"In three days, I'll be making a trip to Arbor. While I'm gone, you'll be responsible for Eagle's Beak's daily affairs."

"Y-yes, my lord." Gavin accepted uneasily.

Though Gavin was now Samwell's steward, he had long been accustomed to following his master's orders in everything. Now that he suddenly had to make decisions himself, he could not help feeling flustered.

"Don't be nervous." Samwell smiled reassuringly. "Just keep everything as it is. If there's anything you can't decide, wait until I return."

"Yes, my lord." Gavin thought for a moment, then said worriedly, "My lord, if the Wildlings attack again while you're away, I'm afraid..."

"That's why you need to spread the news of my departure as quickly as possible."

"Huh?" Gavin was stunned by the seemingly irrelevant reply. It took him a moment to understand, and then realization dawned on him. "My lord, are you pretending to leave in order to lure those restless Wildlings into attacking Eagle's Beak again?"

"That's right. If they're smart, it would be best if they don't come. But if they truly dare to come again, I'll use this opportunity to eliminate this hidden danger once and for all."

Gavin visibly breathed a huge sigh of relief and smiled. "All right. I'll spread the news as soon as possible."

Samwell reminded him again:

"However, I really am going to Arbor as well. The territory is nearly out of food and daily supplies, and as the population continues to grow, we must establish a stable supply route."

Gavin nodded in understanding. "My lord, you want supplies brought in from Arbor by sea?"

"Yes. My territory lies within the Red Mountains. Transporting goods overland would be far too costly, so sea routes are the best option."

In truth, aside from opening up a maritime trade route, Samwell also intended to have a proper talk with Count Paxter, the lord of Arbor.

Lady Olenna's earlier arrangement of the pirate route must have involved Count Paxter. Arbor would have needed to provide the ships and sailors, after all.

Naturally, Samwell no longer needed such things now, but he could discuss investment instead.

Moreover, as Westeros's most famous wine-producing region, Arbor was the perfect place for Brandy's first appearance.