novelraw Chapter 246: Cane Sugar
Chapter 246: Cane Sugar
In April, the fleet escorting three hundred exiles arrived at the eastern port of Sun Island.
The port was shockingly primitive. Dozens of thick logs had been driven into the beach, barely supporting a crooked wooden pier. Freshly cut timber piled high along the coast; the bark still held moisture, and the marks of axes and chisels were clearly visible.
"It has been a year. What on earth have they been doing?"
Hrogeir leaned against the ship's rail, grumbling about the current pace of development.
The hull slowly approached the dock. The salty sea breeze carried a mixture of fishy odors and wood tar. Several sailors tossed out ropes to lasso the wooden stakes of the pier, their movements as deft as if they had practiced them countless times.
Once the ship steadied, Hrogeir stepped onto the pier and headed for the shore. A temporary wooden palisade had been erected around the outskirts of the port. Inside, there were barely over a hundred dwellings, mostly crude shacks hastily constructed from logs and branches.
"Where is Helgi?"
Following the directions of the locals, Hrogeir made his way to the northern side of the port, where a hillside sloped upward. The incline was covered with low, dense shrubs and freshly cut stumps, while a stone fortress was being built at the summit.
The building materials were gray rocks quarried from inland. A group of workers was mixing mortar to bind the stones together. Hrogeir swept his gaze around the site and spotted Helgi wearing a coarse linen tunic.
"My Lord Earl, there is already a shortage of labor on the island. Why the rush to build a fortress?"Helgi tossed aside his chisel and pulled off his tunic to wipe the sweat from his face. "Three months ago, a Moorish merchant ship came to trade, and three more merchant ships have arrived since then. I was worried about a naval attack, so I diverted manpower to construct a fortress. Later, we will install trebuchets and torsion ballistas."
Hrogeir looked down at the port below. The sea was a brilliant blue, with white seagulls circling in the air. Occasionally, they would dive down to the docks, snatch up scattered fish entrails from the ground, and quickly flap their wings to fly away.
After thinking for a moment, he still could not agree with the Earl's perspective. "The Canary Islands have no precious minerals. We exhausted ourselves developing this barren wasteland solely to plant sugarcane and grapes. Those Moors occupy North Africa and Iberia, where they have vast tracts of empty land waiting to be cultivated. Seizing the Canary Islands yields absolutely no profit."
Helgi calmly observed the shorter, fair-skinned Angle.
"Hrogeir, you are a merchant, accustomed to viewing things from a perspective of profit. Indeed, the Moors would gain nothing from attacking us and would only suffer losses. But many things in this world defy logic, and you cannot expect everyone to remain rational. Suppose a nearby lord simply dislikes the sight of us and chooses to deploy his troops even if there is no profit to be made? How would you respond then?"
Neither could convince the other, so they were forced to reach a compromise: of the three hundred exiles transported this time, one hundred would build the fortress, and the remaining two hundred would be assigned to the Sugarcane Company.
Every year, the fleet could make three round trips between Londinium and the Canary Islands. Transporting three hundred laborers each time meant a population increase of only nine hundred, and that was before subtracting the attrition from illness, injuries, and desertion. Every person diverted to build the fortress meant one less laborer for the plantation.
At this thought, Hrogeir lost all mood for idle chatter with the Earl. He eagerly hurried toward the inland plantation. The vast majority of his funds were invested in the cane sugar business. If he failed to recoup his capital, he would have no choice but to spend the rest of his life in his rural hometown in Tyne County.
He rode his horse inland and saw a massive expanse of sugarcane fields newly cultivated on the northern side of the river. The glare from the water was blinding, and numerous hired laborers were braving the scorching sun to dig irrigation canals.
The layout of the canals had been meticulously planned. Waterwheels were first used to draw river water into a reservoir on higher ground, which then branched out to the lower fields. This was the result of years of agricultural experience accumulated by Tynefort Academy. It not only irrigated the crops but also drained excess water during rainy days, preventing stagnant pools from rotting the sugarcane roots.
After inspecting the trenches, Hrogeir proceeded to the plantation's sugar press workshop to observe the sugar-making process.
Due to the severe labor shortage, there had not been enough time to construct a water-powered sugar press workshop, so draft horses were temporarily used to pull the stone mill. The laborers fed the peeled sugarcane stalks into the machine. After repeated crushing, they collected a cloudy, green juice riddled with impurities. Driven by a merchant's instinct, Hrogeir spoke up to ask, "How is the bagasse handled?"
A laborer replied listlessly, "As animal feed, or burned for firewood."
Workers added lime to the juice in large cauldrons. After letting it sit for a while, the impurities gradually sank to the bottom, allowing them to collect the clear liquid on top for boiling.
During the boiling process, the foam and impurities on the surface had to be constantly skimmed off. Billowing waves of heat washed over Hrogeir's face, making it hard to breathe. However, driven by the prospect of profit, he forced himself to remain standing inside the workshop, determined to watch the entire sugar-making process from start to finish.
Afterward, the thick syrup produced from the boiling was poured into a conical clay pot. Once cooled, it yielded reddish-brown blocks of brown sugar and a residue of liquid molasses.
Hrogeir broke off a small piece of brown sugar and popped it into his mouth. A rich sweetness lingered on his lips and teeth, and he could not resist eating another piece.
"Not bad. It is almost identical to the Moors' product. We can finally make a profit."
As of now, the Sugarcane Company had invested a total of two thousand five hundred pounds. Aside from a few bay leaves, there had been almost no revenue. They were barely holding on, relying entirely on the initial batch of investors.
Last year, Hrogeir had considered bringing in more investments, but the nobles were generally worried about the risks. Only the Queen had invested five hundred pounds, easing the company's financial strain. It was estimated they could last until the end of this year.
At that moment, he caught sight of the leftover molasses from the corner of his eye. "What is to be done with this?"
"Make sweet bread, or mix it into the feed for the horses." Sweet bread made from molasses was one of the few employee benefits the laborers received. They could not afford to enjoy the cane sugar, so they had to make do with cheap molasses as a substitute.
Hrogeir dipped his finger into the molasses to take a taste. He felt that using it in such a manner was a complete waste; it would be better to ship it back home to sell.
Hearing that the merchant wanted to strip them of their molasses, the laborers' moods instantly soured. Someone replied with a hint of sarcasm, "My lord, molasses doesn't store well. If it isn't used up quickly, it easily sours and spoils. You had better come up with another idea."
When it came to his personal interests, Hrogeir would never give up easily. "This year's planting area has been expanded sixfold. Once the sugarcane matures, the resulting cane sugar and molasses will increase drastically. Just how much can you possibly eat?"
The laborers exchanged glances. After a long moment, a voice emerged from the crowd. "As long as you don't cut off our sweet bread, the rest is none of our business."
A bell rang from the dining hall, and the crowd gradually dispersed, leaving only Hrogeir and his two sword-bearing attendants. He stared at the dark brown, viscous molasses, feeling that giving it up would be a genuine pity.
In a daze, a bold idea sprouted in his mind. Crops like barley, apples, grapes, and pears could all be used to brew alcohol. Sugarcane was also a crop; logically speaking, it could be fermented into alcohol as well.
Ignoring his dinner, he fetched a wooden bucket and added yeast along with diluted molasses. If this endeavor proved successful, there was no doubt he would make a massive fortune.