The two stroll down the hill away from the town, admiring the bright sunlight on the snow-covered landscape. Toward the bottom of the slope the path curves to the right, toward the lake and the tower beyond, but Rastellion pauses, frowning, looking ahead, instead, across a low field and toward the small snow-bound farmhouse beyond.
Coming to a stop next to him, Immalaine's eyes follow in the direction he'd looked, seeing nothing but a small snowy farm. She turns back to Rastellion, tilting her head up at him. "What's wrong?" she asked, seeing the intent look on his face. Rastellion turns to her. "Let's go down this other path a little way. I want to see something..." He starts off as he speaks, bearing to the left and down the last bit of the slope, his eyes surveying the land ahead. He steps off the path and kneels down, then picks up a stick and pokes at the frozen soil, nodding to himself. "The rough winters we've been having... too cold for the wheat," he muses, then looks up as Immalaine joins him. "See? There used to be wheat planted here. But it's been too cold for the late crop, all through these hills." He gestures at frozen lake at the far end of the fields, and the brilliant blue light that sparkles off the swirls of snow that dance on top of it. "Way too cold." He straightens. "Explaining why they'd need to import the ale."
As he pokes at the ground, she looks around at the frigidly cold landscape and nods. "They'd not have gotten much of any crops after the ground froze." she said in agreement. "Certainly nothin' like what they'd need fer makin' all the ale they been sellin' at this festival." She scuffs her foot into the ground, barely scratching the top of the soil with her soft shoe. "An' what little they may have gotten were probably too froze and too wet t' be any good fer anything but chicken feed." She passes her hand over her face, partly to warm her nose, and sighs. "It does make sense now. The berries, they seem hearty 'nough t' keep growin', but the wheat ...." Slowly she shakes her head.
Rastellion nods and turns back to the path. "Let's go see if we can find this Archbluff fellow in his counting house. See what sort of explanation he offers." They retrace their steps, then stroll along the path that leads past the frozen lake. The wind picks up, swirling the snow and covering the two with blasts of frigid air. When they reach the small stone bridge, Rastellion pauses. "This must be it... It /is/ strange, having his office way out here, away from the town. And, look, they've even got a guard posted. Definitely odd."
As they approach the tower, a small thread of worry entering her mind as she sees the guard. "Rastellion .." she turns and whispers to him. "I'm not thinkin' that fella's jus' gone let us walk in t' see this man. How are we goin' to get past him?" She look up at him, shivering a little from the frigid cold.
"Easy. We just act like we own the place." He takes a deep breath, then strides forward confidently. "Hoy, you there. Guard! Is Archibald in?" The guard turns, a surprised look on his face. "'Ere, 'oo are ye?" he says, as Rastellion strides right up toward him. "Name's Rastellion. I'm the factor of the Bree Adventurers Association." He pulls an official looking piece of paper from his vest pocket and waves it briefly before tucking it away again before the guard can focus on it to see that it's just the playbill from the theatre performance. "The mayor said t' find Archie here." The guard looks a bit flummoxed. "Aye, but I wasn' told t' be expectin' anyone..." Rastellion shakes his head sympathetically. "Yeah, my boss is the same way. Don't tell me half of what I need t' know then goes harin' off on some trip, leavin' it all on me." He takes a step toward the door. "Should I just go on up, or does he like you announcin' folk?" The guard looks even more uncertain.
Stepping forward with Rastellion, Immalaine's face remains calm and poised as she turns to him. "Maybe th' man's away right now?" She looks up at the small window of the tower and notices a flickering of candlelight. "Or more likely he's here. I imagine Lady Zandrianna won't be pleased at all, if we don't see to renewing this contract." She finishes with a nod, and holding her breath slightly, as she glances over at the guard again.
Rastellion give her a grin, appreciating her clever addition, then looks back to the confused guard. "I uh... well, I s'pose, if you've got town business," he says, looking between them, and as he hesitates, Rastellion takes the last step up and raps smartly on the tower door. A muffled oath, then the sound of someone moving inside, and a voice calls out to them: "Coming ... coming ... Didn't I tell you Frostway, no interruptions while I was counting? I swear if I told you to move left, you'd go right out of spite." His voice grows louder as he reaches the door and opens it, blinking at the light from the sun, before turning to see Rastellion standing there. His scowl quickly disappears from his face, like a snowflake on the tongue, replaced by a smile and a nod. "Well, good afternoon sir and lady. What can I do for you fine folk?"
"Ah, Banker Archbluff. Good to meet you in person!” Rastellion smiles back and holds out his hand. “I'm Rastellion - factor of the Bree Adventurer's Association. We've exchanged a few letters this fall, yes?" He indicates Immalaine. "And my companion, Immalaine, assistant to the Association's leader, Lady Zandrianna." Archbluff looks over Rastellion's attire with a nod, barely glancing in Immalaine's direction, before turning his attention back. "Of course, sir, I do seem to recall our correspondence. I was quite pleased when you agreed to the contract! Very much so," The man looks around again, his arms reaching up to rub the cold off, before gesturing inside. "How about you come inside where it's warm. We can sit by the fire and discuss why you've come more comfortably." He steps back, and motions grandly for them to enter the small tower, before heading up the stairs, leaving them to follow in his wake. "I've not much to offer, in the way of drinks mind you, though I did acquire a good whiskey recently if you'd care for a small taste." Immalaine turns to Rastellion, frowning at him as she follows the man up the stairs.
Rastellion gives her a wink as the man invites them inside. "Perhaps just a sip or two," he agrees, in similar friendly tones, as he enters the small but richly-appointed room on the first floor. "A nice little office this," he says, looking around. "Though it must be inconvenient being so far from town on a cold day like today! Seems th' mayor didn't take that into account when he set you up here, eh? That, nor the trudge back up the hill!"
They watch as Archbluff heads over to a small cabinet, the fine wood shining from being well polished. "Well, a walk is a great way to improve a man's spirits," he said, taking two glasses out as he set to pouring the drinks. "And quite good for one's constitution. Besides that, I prefer the quiet this office affords me. Hard to do the books with all the banging and noise from the festival going on, that is most certain." He hands Rastellion one of the glasses, before heading to sit behind his desk, the chair creaking beneath him as he waved his hand to the two chairs on the other side. "Please, make yourselves comfortable," he said. "That was quite a profitable bit of business we did, I can only assume you're interested in a followup?" Immalaine remains quietly composed, as she heads to the nearest chair and settles herself into it, crossing her legs at the ankles as Zandrianna had often admonished her to do. Turning, she watches Rastellion as he quietly takes in the opulent office and the finely crafted desk, chairs and other small furniture scattered about.
Rastellion sits in the other chair and leans back, seeming at his ease. "Aye, I see from the construction work that th' lumber we found for you is being put to good use. As I told you in my letter, I was still new to th' job back then, but I've been findin' my way around... and though Immalaine and I are here for a bit of a holiday, I thought it'd not be amiss t' have a word with you about maybe setting up something more regular, to our mutual benefit..."
Immalaine watches the two men converse with each other, running her fingers idly through her hair as she leans back in her chair and listens, turning to smile at Rastellion briefly, though the expression didn't fully reach her eyes. Archbluff, after taking a sip of his whiskey, nods and leans forward. "Indeed, it's a good businessman who knows how to mix business and pleasure," he replies in a smug tone. "That wood was decidedly what we were looking for to get the place spruced up for the festival. I've no doubt we can come to other equatable trade arrangements on other items as well." Turning, the man pulls a heavy looking ledger from the bookcase to his side, setting it on the table with a loud thump, as he fingers his way through to the most recent entries. "Seems here ... we'll have need for some iron nails soon, and several bolts of fabric. And a quantity of seeds for the spring plantings. I'm assuming none of this should be a problem for your association?" he says, looking up at Rastellion.
Rastellion shakes his head. "Oh, certainly, such run-of-the-mill sorts of trade can be arranged. Bree is, after all, a trading hub for much of the surrounding lands." He leans forward. "But what I wanted to discuss with you is the distribution of your famous berry-infused ale. I've head the locals bragging about just how widely the winterberry ale is distributed, and seems to me that, with the Association's regular shipments throughout the region, we should have no trouble offering you a better deal than your current shipper."
Looking a bit surprised, Archbluff quickly hides the expression before nodding. "Well, indeed, we could discuss the possibility of such an arrangement. Though I daresay the shipper we've been using has worked with us a long while and offers us a rather agreeable rate. I'll hear your offer, however," the man says with an almost dismissive wave of his hand, "And then we can talk from there." The glint in Archbluff's eyes turns calculating, as though he was internally debating facts and figures in his head already. Watching the exchange between the men, Immalaine frowned slightly at the expression on the man's face, though shrewd enough to keep her mouth shut. Instead, she begins tapping lightly on the arm of her chair as she looks to Rastellion to watch his reaction.
"Well, I'm sure your current arrangements are adequate," Rastellion nods. "I'm also sure we can offer a better deal by folding your casks into existing caravans. And also, of course, if you'll be continuing to have us deliver the ale for flavoring to you, as we did this spring, we might be able to further reduce those costs by, say, reusing barrels, or by coordinating any special arrangement with those whose ale you use." He gives Archbluff a quick, side-long glance, gauging the man's reaction, then stares into the fire, lips moving slightly, as if working out figures himself. Immalaine watches Rastellion, before turning to look at Archbluff. As Rastellion's words settled into his mind, the smile on his face slowly vanished, replaced by a sharp, slightly fearful glance as he looked between the two. "I beg your pardon sir, but you're quite mistaken. That ale is made here, by our own fine craftsmen. I don't think such an accusation is very becoming at all from a gentleman as yourself." Immalaine looks down at her hands, rolling her eyes and letting out a quiet and distinctly unladylike snort of disgust.
Feigning a brief look of confusion, the he smiles and lays a finger on the side of his nose. "Ah, yes, of course. Quite true. And I'd not say anything to the contrary beyond these walls." He lowers his voice, adopting Archbluff's confiding and collegial tone of earlier. "But we're all friends here, and I saw all the notes concerning last spring's sale when I took over and familiarized myself with the Association's ledgers. His smile stretches. "Don't worry; I know the importance of letting folks think it's all local production. But we're businessmen, you and I. So let's discuss how the Association can continue to help you out, both in getting the unflavored ale to you and in its subsequent distribution..."
There is a loud sound, as Archbluff angrily closes the ledger, causing Immalaine to jump in her seat and look up in surprise. "That will be quite enough talk from you sir, about the ale, or of any other trade arrangements with Frostbluff. I believe this conversation is over, and we have nothing more to say to each other." Archbluff heaves himself out of his chair and calls down loudly to the guard. "Frostway! Please escort my guests out of the tower and see that they make their way back to the festival to enjoy the rest of their stay." His voice drips with sarcasm, the pompous tone grating on Immalaine's ears as he turns away from them in an obviously dismissing manner.
Looking a little pale, Rastellion stands his ground. "Really," he says, "this sort of bluster is hardy necessary, when you and I both know that..." He breaks off as Frostway grabs his elbow with strong fingers ."This way, sir," he says, his tone harsh, pulling Rastellion toward the doorway. Rastellion looks back over his shoulder as Frostway urges him to the stairway. "We'll be in town overnight," he calls. "When you come to you sense, perhaps you'll come find me, so we can continue our conversation?" He turns and follows Immalaine down the steps, Frostway poking him in the back a time or two as they descend to keep Rastellion moving.
As the reach the door, Immalaine steps through it, watching as Frostway all but shoves Rastellion out the door, before closing it soundly behind him. Sputtering, she closes her eyes for a moment and runs her hand over her face to try and compose herself. However, the rude manner in which Rastellion had been treated was the last straw for her, and she steps up to the guard her voice vibrating with anger. "How ... dare you! And how dare he!" she says, jerking her head to the tower. "You both know what's going on here. How it's affecting people ... the workers especially! And here you are defending this man, and the mayor, like a puppy beggin for a treat! You should be wholly ashamed of what's going on here and for any part you might have in it! You'd think you would want your neighbors ... your friends ... to be treated better than they are! And pushing him around," Immalaine motions to Rastellion, before turning back to Frostway, poking him in the chest with her finger. "Don't you ever touch him again!! Do you hear me?"
Frostway looks slightly abashed at this attack from an unexpected quarter. "Best you be moving off now, miss," he says, gruffly. "Don't be causing more trouble that you'd regret..." Rastellion catches Immalaine's elbow from behind and tugs her away gently. "Let's go," he says, quietly. "Not much else we're going to find here." As she steps back, they hear from inside the tower, "Frostway!! Step in her a moment, man, and I'll have a word with you." Rastellion grins, briefly, "Besides, seems the guard has his own troubles now." But the smile quickly slips off Rastellion's face as the two start back up the path toward the village. "Damn," he mutters, and kicks at a pile of snow.
Wrapping her arm around his waist, she leans in to give him a hug. "What now?" she asks, her voice still angry, but worried too as she hears the frustrated tone in his voice. "There must be another way t' prove it, I just know you can find one!" She looks up at him, her eyes full of confidence as she kisses his chin. Rastellion shakes his head. ''I dunno. Thought I could bluff that fellow, make him slip up. Now, not only have we got no proof, but he'll not be doing any more business with the Association.'' He kicks at another pile of snow. ''Damn. Never even occurred t' me that might happen. I've gone and made a right mess of things, and for what?'' His jaw clenches. ''Just trying t' prove myself as clever as these folk. Had about as much luck with that as dickerin' with our landlady.'' He sighs, continuing to trudge down the path. ''I'm going t' have t' write a letter of apology to that Archbluff fellow or somethin'.... Maybe I wasn't such a wise choice as factor after all...''
She shakes her head and reaches up to brush the snow off of his shoulders. "Don't be saying that Rastellion! Of course yer a fine choice of proctor! Just cause that man didn't come right out an' say anything, doesn't mean ye don't have the right o' what's happened." She thinks, desperately trying to find a way to cheer him up, her eyes looking across the field at the snowmen. "Come on," she says, motioning over to the field. "Let's go build our snowman. At least it'll take our mind off of things and then when th' mayor's wife comes to judge them ...." She pauses, then looks at Rastellion as a thought dawns on her.
Walking a step ahead of her and sunk in his own morose thoughts, he doesn't seem to notice her pause. "Sure, okay." He pauses and turns back toward her, forcing a smile. "P'rhaps we'll even win, what with all these decorations we've found, and get ourselves a keg of flavored Breeland ale. Oh, I'm sorry ..." - and here he mimic Archbluff's pompous tones - "of the fine local hand-crafted beverage." His mouth quirks, but with little real humor. "And I guess we'd best get to it, too, if we're to finish up before today's judging."
Speeding up to move past him, she stops in front of him and clears her throat. "Rastellion ... isn't the mayor's wife goin' to be there? And if she's there, then wouldn't the mayor be there too?" She reaches out, taking his hand as she rubs it. "And if the mayor does know - and he has t' know - then ...." She shakes her head and sighs, feeling as though she's grasping straws.
"Maybe.” he shrugs. “Though I don't know that I'd have any better luck with him. Still..." he trails off, thinking, then says. "Still, I suppose it's a chance." He steps off the path and pauses by a winterberry bush as they speak, breaking off a few berried sprigs, before taking Immalaine's arm and continuing back towards Winter-home. "Let's see if maybe our snowman can give the mayor a chill..."
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
