It was the beginning of the early watches. The moon had gone down and the night was a black cloak around the last of the men that were carrying large bundles into the main hall of the Mercer House. Heathbrand stood in a far doorway and watched their progress. This was the first large shipment of eastern goods to arrive in Arrowhaven, and it was looking promising. After the last item was stowed, twenty men stood milling about the hall, sleep-deprived and hungry.
Heathbrand cursed under his breath, "Where is that blasted woman? This is precisely why I hired a cook...
He walked painfully towards the kitchen. No one was there, although the fires were lit. A large pot stood upon the hob, filled with stew though it looked as though it had been made yesterday. He lifted the handles and hung it upon the iron hook that stood to the side of the fire pit, pushing it closer to the glowing coals to warm it. It was poor fare, but it would have to do. Now to find the strange man who had made this venture possible.
Yilgtig was not in the main hall. Heathbrand passed into the main foyer and glanced out the main doors. The strange man was standing by the lit brazier, his head hooded with a rich cloak of damask. The merchant flared his nostrils...the man reeked of sandalwood...but perhaps that was the custom in strange lands.
"You have kept your end of the agreement, I thank you," said Heathbrand
Yilgtig turned and smiled beneath his hood, a wide smile with lips pressed firmly together. He answered,
"But of course; my word is my bond, as I trust yours is." He held out a gloved hand palm up, the fingers stiff and straight.
Heathbrand smirked as he placed a large purse into the outstretched hand. "My word is golden, depend upon it."
The man laughed softly. "A pleasure, truly..."
"And your men? I will see they are fed, but...?"
A contemptuous snort came from beneath the cloak, "They are hirelings, and they have been paid....feed them if you wish and send them on their way. Slaves would be of more use, but alas in this land they would draw too much attention."
Heathbrand said nothing, and in the sickly light of the brazier an expression of distaste passed over his face."I will feed them then. Will you return to...that place?"
"If you wish it...my windows of opportunity are not yet closed, though it will be more dangerous for me a second time. You would be willing to pay more for my peril?"
Heathbrand laughed, "Your peril is your own, and I daresay of your own making. I will pay as I have done for this shipment...no more and no less. It is for you to judge its worth. I do not yet know how well these goods will sell."
"Your hands will overflow with gold, I am sure of it. But as you wish...if you should find you desire more of them, perhaps you will place more value upon my trouble, eh? I will stay at the Inn of this village for another few days...it seems more 'comfortable' than this place. Though perhaps as you prosper, this will change?"
Heathbrand said nothing, but smiled tightly.
"I will send word to you if I wish to go forward."
Yilgtig laughed softly and bowed. "That is all your servant asks...I bid you good night". He turned and started to walk down the road.
Heathbrand sighed and turned to go back to the hall. That stew would be heated by now, and those men still hungry. Best feed them and send them on their way before the village begins to stir....
