“Sorry, Sir Volf, could you accompany me for a while after I speak to the vet? I am going to purchase this sleipnir, but if we were to go by ourselves, it would take too much time, and I’m afraid they would learn about what has happened, so I’d like to borrow your name to speed up the process.”
“Sure thing!”
“Chairwoman, after Marcella sends you back home, just wait there and I will report to you afterward! In the meantime, think of a better name than ‘Number Twelve’ for our new girl!”
“See you soon, Dahlia!” The two of them rushed out of the stable before she even had the time to respond.
“I suppose you would like an explanation right about now, Chairwoman?”
“If you would, please, sir.” The flurry around her had scattered her thoughts; she lost track of whom she was speaking to, and they giggled about the sudden formality.
“Horses graze on pasture, are fed hay, and are okay with the occasional fruit treat, but on long journeys like the Beast Hunters’ expeditions, they are fed fodder. Each can go through about half a large sack of wheat in a day, while sleipnirs eat close to double that. In the winter, a third of a wagon’s capacity could be dedicated to feed, and if space is at a premium, then expensive medicinal herbs are used instead.” A large sack of wheat was close to thirty kilos—a shocking amount. “Furthermore, both must be fed at least twice a day—horses especially cannot be fed too much at once—and they spend a long time eating. But if sleipnirs can be fed that dried green slime product, then they would only need to eat once a day. The stuff that was in Mr. Ivano’s pocket takes up hardly any room at all, and Number Twelve finished in a flash and came out of it in peak physical condition.”
“I get it now!” It took a while, but the light bulb finally lit up—the green slime fibers were good feed for sleipnirs and were good for long trips. No wonder Volf was in such a hurry.
“If this comes to fruition, then I’m sure the Couriers’ would use sleipnirs and that dried green slime stuff for everything.”
Marcella muttering and reminiscing about his former home brought to Dahlia’s mind the image of Augusto’s face—he was probably already swamped with yellow slimes, and now he might have to deal with green slimes on top of that; she felt rather sorry. Idaea would likely have a big smile on her face, though.
Marcella then left Dahlia so he could silence the station workers, which should be over with quickly. In the meantime, she fed Number Twelve more of the grapes that the sleipnir so dearly wanted. One by one, she sated herself on the whole bunch, then began sipping some water.
“Say, was the green slime yummy?” Of course, she wasn’t really expecting an answer, but the sleipnir pointed her black eyes at Dahlia and nodded twice; there was something special about how a monster seemed to actually understand human language. Dahlia had met Number Twelve the same day she met Volf, hired her by chance, and now would be purchasing her too—if that wasn’t fate, then what was?
On that day too, the sleipnir had loved her fruit snack. Dahlia looked at the remaining bunch in her basket and voiced her curiosity. “Which do you like better—purple grapes or green slime?” Number Twelve’s eyes grew wide before her gaze turned gloomy and fell to the ground. She moved her mouth as though she were chewing something. Dahlia learned that sleipnirs, too, had troubles of their own.
The villa had recently begun renovations on the headquarters of the Scalfarottos’ Weapons Development Team, and its two rooms had been expanded today. Volf and Ivano entered the building and found Guido and Jonas there examining the work.
“Oh, have you come to learn about construction, Volf? I can’t help but notice Madam Rossetti’s absence, however.”
“Dahlia is at home today. Would I be able to take up some of your time today, Guido? There is something I would like to speak to you about.”
“For you? Absolutely. I recently acquired some very delicious green tea—let me get someone to put on a pot for us.” He seemed to be in an especially good mood today.
Ivano stopped Guido on his way to the parlor. “Excuse me, Lord Guido, I believe our conversation would best be held somewhere our voices will not travel.” His quiet voice was accompanied by a red glow from his cuff link—an anti-eavesdropper.
Guido narrowed his eyes and pointed his feet in a different direction. “Very well. Let us go somewhere more private.”
Their destination was deep within the estate, where Volf and Dahlia had gotten their scolding about magic swords. In that windowless room, each took his seat, then Guido folded his hands atop the table. Jonas stood in silence diagonally behind him, though he did not completely erase his presence.
“Brother, the truth is that—”
Volf jumped straight in sans pleasantries, explaining about how the sleipnir had eaten the enchanted green slime, her condition afterward, its versatility, the potential for the Beast Hunters, and so on.
After he had finished listening, Guido slid his gaze over to the person beside Volf. “Ivano, aside from those of us at the meeting, your employees, and the workers at our carriage station, does anyone else know about this matter?”
“The veterinarian, whom I have hushed already, does.”
“The one that we use? Good. Any others? Would there perhaps be anyone at the carriage lot at the Merchants’ Guild who might have overheard or overseen this?”
“I doubt it. We spoke in the stables at the station, and the workers there should be affiliated with the Scalfarotto family; Marcella has silenced them as well.”
“Very good. I shall send a directive to make sure. Oh, Jonas? Could you take a fast horse to Lord Bernigi’s and request his presence for urgent business?”
“At once, sir.” He bowed, then left the room as silently as he had stood.
Why was Guido clarifying the situation with Ivano, despite Volf being the one who had been speaking to his brother? Why the rush to summon Bernigi? Questions coursed through Volf’s head as he, without a word, looked to his brother.