“They call me Runt,” he replied.
Bart grinned. “Well Runt, I could use the assistance of someone who knows Hylith,” he stated.
“What kind of assistance?” Runt inquired.
“Nothing dangerous or that will get you in trouble I assure you,” he stated. Pulling a small piece of parchment from inside his shirt, he handed it to Runt. Last night, he had cajoled Kevik into parting with a piece of his parchment so he could copy the crest that was on the wine bottle.
Runt took the piece of parchment and looked at the crest depicted there.
“Have you seen that before?” he asked.
Runt nodded. “It’s the River Man’s,” he said.
“The River Man?” Bart prompted, though he already knew the answer.
“That’s what most people call him,” Runt said. “Don’t know why.”
Bart nodded. Glancing around, he laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gently directed him to move further down the side of the inn so they wouldn’t be in close proximity to the door.
“Do you know where I could find him?” asked Bart.
“Uh huh,” the boy replied. Then he pointed to the tall spires of the castle. “He lives there.”
Bart had been afraid of that. “Really?” he asked, feigning disbelief. “I thought he would have been a wine merchant.”
The boy looked at him quizzically. “What made you think that?” he asked.
“I’m working with agents of a wine merchant who are here to procure a contract for a certain wine he had been told may be on the market now,” he explained. Taking the piece of parchment from the boy he added, “This crest was on the bottle.”
“Don’t know anything about that,” the boy stated.
“Are there any wine merchants nearby?” Bart asked.
“Most of the better ones are near the castle,” he explained. “I heard that Torrim’s was supposed to be one of the best.”
Bart nodded. “Thanks,” he said. He dug into his pocket and gave the boy a silver.
“Hey,” the boy objected. “I thought we’d each get one!”
Bart glanced over to where the boy’s two buddies were still standing. “If they want a silver, then they better be the one’s talking to me.” He glanced back to the boy, “Are you going to be around?”
“Maybe,” replied Runt. “Why?”
“Might need your help again,” he said.
“I’ll be around,” Runt said. “If you don’t see me, ask around and I’ll hear.”
“Okay, I’ll do that,” agreed Bart.
At that, Runt scampered off toward his two friends and Bart returned to the inn. There he told the others what he had learned.
“So,” asked Chyfe in a barely audible whisper, “are we going to sneak into the castle now?”
Bart shook his head. “Not we, me,” he responded quietly. “You and the others find this wine merchant and play the part of agents. Learn what you can about the River Man and the crest,” he told him. “In the meantime, I’ll poke around the castle.”
A short time later, they were heading down to the castle area. Once they were close, Bart took his leave of the others. He had already donned his Cloak but had yet to activate its concealing magics. Disappearing down a side alley, he was soon out of sight.
“Hope he doesn’t get himself killed,” commented Chyfe.
“He knows what he’s doing,” Riyan said. “Now, let’s find that merchant.” Having been told the shop was somewhere near the castle, they made inquiries and it wasn’t long before they stood before the shop of the wine merchant Torrim.
It was very high scale, as were all of the shops and residences in this area. Being so close to the castle, they had to be as they more than likely catered to the nobility. The people on the streets were dressed very fine, most having servants in attendance. Finely constructed carriages rode upon the cobblestone streets, the occupants having an air of self importance.
Soth took the lead as they approached the door to the wine merchant’s shop. The bottle of wine bearing the crest rested in his pack. Being the more amiable of the twins, it had fallen to Soth to be their spokesman.
The front door to the shop was of carved wood and very sturdy. Opening it, they found the inner walls to be lined with shelves bearing row after row of wine bottles. There were six freestanding racks containing a variety of wine bottles as well. A guard was positioned to either side of the door and as Soth entered, they gave him a once over. As each of the others entered, they too were given a visual inspection. Deciding they were no immediate threat, the guards remained where they were.
As they entered, Soth examined the bottles of wines on the nearest freestanding rack. He was no connoisseur of wines, but they looked valuable. His brother nudged his shoulder. “Over there,” Seth said, pointing to an elderly man sitting at a table. There were three tables situated in an open area on the far side of the room. The man was the only one there.
Soth nodded and made his way over. Behind him, one of the guards shut the door as Kevik, who was bringing up the rear, entered.
An open bottle of wine sat on the table before the man, a wine glass a third of the way full was held in his hand. He looked up as Soth approached, and set his glass on the table next to the wine bottle.
“Are you the wine merchant Torrim?” Soth asked.
The man remained in his seat and nodded. “I am he,” he replied. “Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?”
Soth nodded and then indicated the chair across the table from the wine merchant. When he received a nod to go ahead, he sat. The others, including his brother, remained standing behind him.
“We are looking into the possibilities of acquiring a contract for a specific wine,” he explained. “Come spring when our master’s caravan is once more upon the road, he hoped to be able to travel here and purchase wine at a reasonable price.”
“Hmmm,” murmured Torrim. “You’d do best by going straight to the wineries if such is your desire. I cater more to the individual wine connoisseur.”
“Yes,” Soth replied. “We realize that, but at present we are not sure where to go or with whom to talk.” He sat his pack on the table before him and removed the bottle. “My master acquired this bottle of wine from a merchant in Kendruck. He was struck by the strength of its flavor and thought there may be a market for it among his regular clients.” Setting the bottle before the wine merchant, he waited expectantly.
Torrim’s eyes widened slightly at first sight of the bottle. That he recognized it was clear. “You wish to procure a quantity of Guerloch?” he asked.
“A contract for such, yes,” agreed Soth. “Would you know with whom we would need to speak?”
“Yes,” replied Torrim, “though I’m not sure if that knowledge would do you much good.”
“Why is that?” asked Soth.
“Guerloch is a special brew,” he explained. “Only one winery that I know of makes it. And such is the secrecy behind the making of Guerloch, that the actual location of the winery is a closely guarded secret.”
“Surely there must be a trader or agent in town where one could arrange for a shipment of Guerloch,” Soth said.
“There is,” he replied. “But like I said, that knowledge won’t do you any good.” When he saw Seth’s face grow into a grimace, he explained. “The one with whom you would need to arrange such a contract resides in the castle. His name is Lord Honni. Last year, his son was killed during a border skirmish with Byrdlon’s soldiers. He’s unlikely to listen to anything you have to say.”
“And he’s the only one with which we could secure a contract for Guerloch?” asked Riyan.
Torrim glanced to Riyan in surprise for having spoken. “I’m afraid so,” the wine maker replied.
“I see,” Soth said. Standing up, he extended his hand which was taken by Torrim. “Thank you for taking the time to talk with us.”
Torrim shook Soth’s hand then nodded. “Any time,” he replied.
Soth turned and made to leave the wine merchant’s establishment. One of the guards opened the door for them as they passed through into the street. Once the door was closed behind them, Chyfe asked, “Now what?”