Rise of a Merchant Prince. Raymond E. Feist
‘If I am, it’s not the first,’ said Roo.
‘Cross the Sagacious Man and it’s the last,’ said the would-be extortionist.
‘Sagacious Man?’ said Roo. ‘Who would that be?’
‘Someone important in this city,’ answered the thin man. ‘We’ll mark this a misunderstanding, and you ask about. But when we come back tomorrow, I’ll expect better manners from you.’
He motioned for his two distant companions to leave and they quickly darted into the midday crush of people. Other pedestrians had stopped to watch the display of one man holding another at sword’s point, and it was obvious the thin man didn’t care for the scrutiny. A merchant looked out from his shop and started shouting for a city constable.
Glancing at Roo the man said, ‘If I’m handed over to the City Watch, you’re in even bigger trouble than you might be already.’ He licked his lips nervously. A shrill whistle sounded a block away, and Roo dropped his sword’s point and the man ducked away, vanishing into the crowd.
‘What was that?’ asked Duncan.
‘Shakedown.’
Duncan said, ‘Mockers.’
‘Mockers?’
‘Guild of Thieves,’ supplied Duncan as he patted his ribs to make sure they were still intact.
‘I expect. He mentioned someone named the Sagacious Man.’
‘That’s the Mockers, without a doubt. You can’t do business in a city like Krondor without having to pay off someone.’
Roo climbed aboard his own wagon and said, ‘Damn me if I will.’
If Duncan had an answer, Roo didn’t hear it as he untied the rope holding down the barrels and lowered the drop gate. A shout and men running down the street caused Roo to glance past the wagon to where members of the City Watch, wearing blue tunics and carrying large billy clubs, paused to see the merchant pointing at Roo.
Roo swore under his breath. The constable approached and said, ‘That gentleman tells me you was dueling in the street.’
Roo tossed a rope to Duncan. ‘Dueling? Me? Sorry, but he’s mistaken. I’m just unloading wine for this inn.’ He turned his chin toward the inn, as Duncan came down to help get the barrels off the top of the wagon.
‘Well then,’ said the constable, obviously unwilling to go searching for trouble when it was so abundant in Krondor, ‘just see it stays that way.’ He motioned for his partner and they returned the way they came.
Duncan said, ‘Some things never change. Unless I miss my bet, those two will be back in whatever pastry shop they were in when the whistle blew.’
Roo laughed. They lowered the five barrels to the street, and Roo convinced the innkeeper to send a worker to help Duncan carry them inside, so Roo could protect the wagons while the wine was delivered. After the remaining cargo was secured, they took reins and moved on to the next tavern.
At sundown, they had sold close to a third of the wine Roo had purchased in Ravensburg. More, they had recouped almost all the gold Roo had spent. Roo calculated that he stood to triple his money if business the next day or so was as brisk as it had been so far.
‘Where do we spend the night?’ asked Duncan. ‘And when do we eat? I’m starving.’
Roo said, ‘Let us find an inn with a good-sized yard so we can guard this wine against our friends.’
Duncan nodded, knowing full well whom Roo meant. They were in an area of the city unknown to Duncan, who had been to Krondor a number of times over the years, and from the wares displayed in the shop windows as they passed, not a terribly prosperous one. Roo said, ‘Let’s go around the block and head back the way we came. I think we’re leaving prosperity behind if we continue on this way.’
Duncan nodded and watched as Roo headed his team out into the traffic of the road. The street was full of travelers as those finished with the day’s work headed home, or to a local tavern or shop. Some shops were being shuttered, while others were lighting lanterns, indicating their proprietors were staying open past dark for those customers who could only shop in the evening.
They moved slowly through the press and Roo turned right into another street, and Duncan followed. It took them almost an hour to find an inn with a stable area big enough to accommodate their wagons behind locked gates. Roo made arrangements with the stableboy, took his sample cask, and led Duncan inside.
The inn was known as the Seven Flowers, and it was a modest establishment, catering to merchants and workers equally. Roo found a table near the bar and indicated Duncan should take a seat. He spied an interesting-looking barmaid, a little long in the face but with an ample spread of bosom and hip, and he said, ‘When you have a minute, if you’d bring us both a tankard of ale and dinner.’ He indicated the table where Duncan sat. The woman looked at the handsome Duncan and her smile betrayed her interest. Roo found his eyes fixed upon the woman’s bosom where it strained against the fabric of her dress and said, ‘And if you’re free at the end of the evening, join us.’ He tried his best to look charming, and the remark got him a neutral expression and a noncommittal noise. ‘Where’s the owner?’ asked Roo.
She indicated a heavyset man at the far end of the bar, and Roo made his way through a half-dozen customers and started his pitch. After providing samples of his wine and arguing price, Roo arrived at a price with the owner of the inn, including a night’s lodging and food, and returned to the table.
The food was average but ample and after weeks on the trail tasted wonderful. The ale was also average, but cold and plentiful. After the meal, when business had thinned, Duncan started working his charms on the serving girl, a woman of middle years named Jean. Another barmaid, a thin young woman named Betsy, joined them and somehow ended up sitting in Roo’s lap. Either Duncan was terribly funny in his storytelling or the ale gave everyone a more forgiving sense of humor. A couple of times the innkeeper had had to come over and order his barmaids back to work, but as the evening wore on, the two women had found their way back to Roo and Duncan’s company.
The pairing was obvious: Duncan had captured the attention of both women, but Jean, the more attractive of the two, had staked her claim early on, while Betsy was content to spend her time with Roo’s hand fondling her. Roo didn’t know if the girl really liked him or expected recompense, but he didn’t care. The soft heat of flesh under cloth had him aroused, and after a while he said, ‘Let’s go upstairs.’
The girl said nothing but rose and took his hand and led him upstairs. In his drunken state he didn’t remember hearing Duncan and Jean entering the room with them, but soon he was lost in the feel, smell, taste, and heat of being with a woman.
He was vaguely aware of Duncan and Jean on the pallet next to the one he shared with Betsy, but he ignored them. He had been with whores in camp less than a hand’s breadth from other soldiers, so he thought nothing of it.
He got out of his clothing and got Betsy out of hers in quick order, and was lost in passion when a shout came from outside followed by the sound of cracking wood. He almost didn’t notice it at first, but another crack followed, and suddenly, before thought was his, he was on his feet, pulling his sword from the scabbard, yelling, ‘Duncan!’
Naked, Roo raced down the stairs and into the common room. Deserted and dark, the room was an obstacle course as Roo tried to get to the inn’s courtyard door without laming himself on a chair or table. Duncan’s oaths from behind told Roo he wasn’t alone in his drunken difficulties.
Roo found the door, pulled it open, and hurried toward the stable where his horses were being cared for and his wagons were housed. His feet encountered wetness as his nose greeted him with a familiar aroma: wine.
He entered the dark barn cautiously, his intoxication gone with the rush of battle readiness. Duncan overtook him and Roo gripped his cousin by the arm, signaling in the dark to move to the side of