Three days later, Château Pétrus.
La Gerbe de Fête, which marked the end of the harvest, had concluded without incident, and the winery should have been filled with joy as it entered the period of fermenting the harvested grapes in earnest. But Christian’s innermost feelings were not so.
Astra Veil, the gift Redwood had left behind.
The weight carried by the label, which depicted a valley where stars seemed about to pour down, had changed greatly from when this wine had first been born. It had already won Best of Show twice in a row at the San Francisco Chronicle, but more than anything, America’s tycoons and celebrities kept praising it and lifting the brand higher.
Now the 2007 vintage of Astra Veil was commonly trading on the market for thousands of dollars, and there was talk that if a few more years passed like this, it might surpass five or six thousand dollars.
The fact that they had readily given such a wine as a gift carried no ordinary meaning. At least in his eyes, it was an expression of Redwood’s confidence that they would challenge the authority of Bordeaux’s châteaux—and a provocation. And since they were showing that Ether, the one that received 100 points, was not all they had…
To him, the neighboring Château Belle Époque felt like a blade pressed just beneath his chin. And in such a situation, if Ether were to appear at the Nobel banquet?
‘That cannot happen… Absolutely not…’
That was something that must never be allowed to happen. And so he once again gathered the masters of Bordeaux. They were people who were normally difficult to bring together unless the matter was truly extraordinary, yet the owners and representatives of the First Growths did not hesitate to assemble here.
“So this is the object in question.”
The first to break the silence was the queen of Château Margaux, Corinne Mentzelopoulos. With slender fingers, she traced the label on the wine bottle. Within the ornate and intricately embossed silver-foil design, the name “Ether” gleamed sharply, like a silver dagger aimed at the heart of Bordeaux.
One bottle remained intact, but two had already been opened, their red liquid resting inside clear crystal decanters. Behind the gently wafting aromas of cassis, violets, and dense black plum, the scent of graphite and a cool mineral fragrance were hidden, weighing heavily on the hearts of those gathered here.
“White & Company, which holds exclusive distribution rights to Ether, held a party in San Francisco and began its release.
We obtained three bottles there for the time being and had them flown in from San Francisco by chartered jet. This is Redwood’s problematic new work, Ether 2008.”
“Hmm…”
Beside her were Frédéric Engerer, the manager of Château Latour, a representative of Château Mouton Rothschild, and heavyweights bearing the pride of Haut-Brion and Lafite Rothschild on their shoulders. The living legends who ruled Bordeaux’s Left and Right Banks had gathered before a mere three bottles of wine produced by a fledgling winery from Napa Valley.
“I do not believe the judges of the San Francisco Chronicle would give the top prize to the same wine two years in a row unless they had lost their minds. I do think Redwood has clearly surpassed the existing formula of Napa Valley. However…”
Baron Éric de Rothschild of Château Lafite Rothschild continued in a hoarse voice.
“Parker wrote in his article that it was ‘the most astonishing birth in the history of Napa Valley.’ With praise of that degree, it is certain that the whole world will look at American wine anew. And that, in turn, means the presence of our Bordeaux will fade.”
A decline in the brand was not greatly different from a decline in the wines they sold. Even as it was, they did not sell large quantities of wine, and if even wine ratings began to press up beneath their chins, then in the long term, it was impossible to know whether their wines’ prices would continue to remain at the high-end level. Moreover, the moment they lost the wager, the First Growths of Bordeaux would send a tribute to Redwood? That would mean the fall of Bordeaux wine.
That was precisely what Baron Éric de Rothschild feared.
As everyone nodded in silent agreement with his words, Christian Moueix slowly rose from his seat and poured the decanted wine into glasses. The liquid flowing from the decanter was a deep ruby color, yet a mysterious violet radiance shimmered along its edges.
“Now, everyone, raise your glasses. Discussing countermeasures without knowing the enemy is not the Bordeaux way.”
The five giants raised their glasses all at once. The moment Ether’s aroma spread into the air, the atmosphere in the tasting room changed drastically.
Corinne Mentzelopoulos brought the rim of the glass close to the tip of her nose and closed her eyes. The space between her brows trembled faintly.
“This is… unbelievable. I heard that 2008 in Napa was a cursed year of repeated cold damage and heat waves. And yet how can such cool acidity coexist with the aroma of perfectly ripened fruit? It feels as if it is aiming straight at elegance, the very identity of Margaux.”
She did not mean that the wine had truly been made with Château Margaux as its target, but that it had absorbed their strengths so completely that it inspired a sense of crisis.
Latour’s representative cut in with a solemn voice.
“I can even sense Latour’s structure. This is not merely a wine of concentration. The tannin particles are so fine it feels as though silk has been laid across the tongue… and astonishingly, beneath that, a firm framework stands intact. One hundred points… I honestly do not wish to admit it, but I think I understand why Parker gave it such a score.”
The tasting room fell silent once more. The heavyweights held the wine in their mouths and rolled it around for a long time. Even after the wine slid down their throats, its intricate finish did not vanish, continuing to rule their tongues.
Christian Moueix set down his glass and gazed at the vineyard outside the window. He recalled the wager he had made with Brian Choi over the wine for the Nobel Peace Prize banquet. At the time, he had dismissed it as the rashness of a young genius, but the wine before his eyes now proved that it was a realistic threat.
“Can our 2008 defeat this monster?”
Jean-Philippe Delmas of Château Haut-Brion asked sharply. At those words, Baron Éric de Rothschild furrowed his brow.
“I thought 2008 was a year blessed by God, and this year was even better. In terms of wine quality, I do not believe we fall behind in the slightest, but the problem is that it is only in its first year. If new wines are pitted against one another… honestly, I do not think I can guarantee the outcome.”
Bordeaux in 2009 had completed its harvest amid talk of an unprecedented divine vintage. Every château was certain it would produce the greatest wine in its history, yet Ether’s level of perfection had cracked that certainty.
Corinne Mentzelopoulos, the owner of Château Margaux, spoke with a cold expression.
“The 2009 vintage is a gift nature has given us. But Ether truly… makes me wonder how a man named Brian Choi overcame the limits of nature. Honestly, it is difficult to predict the result of this wager. If I were told to make the wager now… I would have given up.”
But the wager had already been made. They could not give up midway.
Everyone’s nodding showed that they agreed with her. They could not engage in a dangerous contest with a wine like this.
The representative of Mouton Rothschild tapped the table with his fingers, as if anxious.
“The Nobel Peace Prize banquet is in December. Our 2008s are certainly great, but to ensure victory, we ultimately need to choose from existing old vintages or masterpieces like 2005. But as for what the Nobel Committee intends…”
Christian spoke then.
“From what I have heard, when Ether was first presented at the banquet in New York, officials from the Nobel Committee were in attendance. That Russian tycoon, Viktor Karlov, must have deliberately invited them to lobby them. And if it is wine of this caliber… perhaps even the administrators of the Nobel Committee may have been swayed.”
“Hmm…”
“That is rather…”
As everyone wore troubled expressions, Christian continued.
“The wager has already begun, and if we lose, we will have to write a congratulatory message celebrating Redwood’s triumph on the label of a cheap wine worth less than fifty dollars a bottle. And wine collectors all over the world will buy up that wine and laugh at us.”
Corinne set down her glass with a resolute expression.
“We cannot allow that. Bordeaux’s honor cannot be converted into numbers. Therefore…”
When she faltered without finishing her sentence, Baron Éric de Rothschild slowly removed his glasses, wiped them, and opened his mouth.
“Corinne, from this point on, I believe it would be dangerous to face them head-on.”
“What? Then?”
“Honestly, at this point, has it not gone beyond a simple wine tasting done for amusement? This is a stage of diplomacy moved by the immense symbol of power that is the Nobel Committee.”
Baron Éric’s voice carried the distinctive authority of the Rothschild family, accumulated over hundreds of years as they manipulated the course of European affairs from behind the scenes.
“We may not be able to render the wager itself invalid, but we can change the standards for the wine that appears at the Nobel banquet. Mouton, Latour, Margaux… if each of us tries to survive alone, it is difficult to be certain we can overcome the halo of that number, 100. But if Bordeaux moves as one, the story changes.”
Baron Éric looked at Christian Moueix and gave a meaningful smile.
“Contact the Nobel Committee’s sponsor group and the Swedish royal family. Propose that 2009 will become the greatest vintage in human history, and that to commemorate it, the First Growths of Bordeaux will specially dedicate an unprecedented ‘Cuvée de l’Union’ to the Nobel Peace Prize.”
The heavyweights in the tasting room began to stir. The First Growths blending their grapes to make a single wine? That was something without precedent in Bordeaux’s history. Château Lafite, Mouton, Latour, Margaux, and Haut-Brion had each been rivals for hundreds of years.
For them to blend their respective grapes into a single wine would be an earth-shattering event in Bordeaux history, and if it came to pass, its symbolism alone could overwhelm Ether’s 100 points.
“I am not merely suggesting we mix grapes. We drape it in the political rhetoric of Bordeaux’s harmony, in keeping with the spirit of the Nobel Peace Prize. And convey this discreetly to the Committee. Tell them that if they place an unverified new Napa wine on the banquet table and later controversy arises over its quality or among critics, it could tarnish the Committee’s honor. We must emphasize that Bordeaux is a safe value that has remained unchanged for hundreds of years.”
It was diplomatic maneuvering worthy of the Rothschild family. They would confine the very arena of competition within the framework of tradition and dignity, and drive their opponent into the position of an unstable gamble.
“With that, we may have a chance of winning. But do you intend to sell it…?”
“Absolutely not. It is merely an event.”
At those words, Jean-Philippe Delmas, who had raised the question, as well as everyone else present, nodded. Something of this scale would not harm the image of their brands, and as a display, it would be an event beyond compare.
“Certainly, with such a proposal, the Swedish royal family and the conservative figures within the Committee will surely listen to our side. The Nobel Committee and the Swedish royal family will not dislike drawing attention through such an event either.”
Listening to Baron Éric’s proposal, Christian Moueix felt much of the anxiety in his heart settle, and asked what he was curious about.
“But Éric, what if the Committee insists on selecting the banquet wine through a blind tasting? They, too, will have to be conscious of the eyes of the whole world.”
“Even if they hold a blind tasting, what matters is who the judges are. The elders of the Master of Wine Association, whom the Nobel Committee seeks for advice, or figures like Gérard Basset, the current chairman of the European Sommelier Association, ASI, are people who have walked the same path as us for decades. In particular, it is not so difficult to remind someone like Andreas Larsson, known as one of Northern Europe’s greatest authorities on gastronomy, of the value of tradition. Therefore, not only Rothschild’s network but all the networks of everyone gathered here must be mobilized to their fullest.”
The heavyweights quietly began calculating as they recalled their own lines of contact. The French Ministry of Foreign Affairs, connections to the Swedish royal family, even major figures in European finance… The corners of their mouths curved into the faintest arcs as they naturally became certain that their chances of victory were rising.
Corinne Mentzelopoulos lifted her glass of Ether once more.
“Personally, I feel a sense of regret regarding Brian Choi of Redwood. It is difficult to deny that the wine he made is genius.”
She held Ether in her mouth, then swallowed it with a satisfied expression. Even now, she found it hard to believe that such a wine had been made by a young man only in his twenties. And she thought that such a young man had emerged into the world far too soon.
‘If only he had come to me…’
It was regrettable that he was a talent who could have sustained the authority of Château Margaux for at least another thirty years.