Rise of a Merchant Prince. Raymond E. Feist

in the damp, cool night air without moving for hours. His hair was damp, and dew shone upon his cloak as he shook it out.

      ‘Duncan!’ he yelled, rousing his cousin. ‘We’ve got wine to sell!’

      The wagons clattered over the cobbles of Krondor’s streets. Roo indicated Duncan should pull up behind him, over to one side, allowing some room for traffic to pass on the narrow side street. He had picked out his first stop, a modest inn named the Happy Jumper near the edge of the Merchants’ Quarter. The sign was of a pair of children turning a rope for a third who was suspended in midair over it.

      Roo pushed open the door and found a quiet common room, with a large man behind the bar cleaning glasses. ‘Sir?’ the barman asked.

      ‘Are you the proprietor?’ asked Roo.

      ‘Alistair Rivers at your disposal. How may I be of service?’ He was a portly man, but under the fat Roo detected strength – most innkeepers had to have some means of enforcing order. His manner was polite, but distant, until he knew the nature of Roo’s business.

      ‘Rupert Avery,’ said Roo, sticking out his hand. ‘Wine merchant in from Ravensburg.’

      The man shook his hand in a perfunctory manner and said, ‘You need rooms?’

      ‘No, I have wine to sell.’

      The man’s expression showed a decided lack of enthusiasm. ‘I have all the wine I need, thank you.’

      Roo said, ‘But of what quality and character?’

      The man looked down his nose at Roo and said, ‘Make your pitch.’

      ‘I was born in Ravensburg, sir,’ began Roo. And then he launched into a brief comparison of the bounties of that small town’s wine craft and what was commonly drunk in Krondor’s more modest establishments.

      At the end of his pitch he said, ‘The service to Krondor has either been bulk wine for the common man or impossibly priced wine for the nobles, but nothing for the merchant catering to a quality clientele, until now. I can provide wine of superior quality at bulk prices, because I don’t transport the bottles!’

      The man was silent a minute. ‘You have a sample?’ he asked at last.

      ‘Outside,’ said Roo and he hurried out to fetch down a sample cask he had filled before leaving Ravensburg. Returning inside he found a pair of glasses on the bar. He pulled the cork, and as he filled the two glasses with a taste, he said, ‘It’s a bit shocked, having rolled in this very morning off the road, but give it a week or two to rest before you serve it, and you’ll have more business than any other inn in the area.’

      The man looked unconvinced, but he tasted. He rolled the wine around his palate, then spit it into a bucket, while Roo did the same. Alistair was quiet again, then said, ‘It’s not bad. A little jumbled, as you said from the road, but there’s some structure there and abundant fruit. Most of my customers won’t know it from the usual plonk, but I do have a few businessmen who frequent my establishment who might find this diverting. I might be interested in a half-dozen barrels. What is your price?’

      Roo paused, and quoted a price he knew to be three times what he would accept, and only 15 percent below what the finest noble wines from Ravensburg would fetch. Alistair blinked, then said, ‘Why not burn my inn to the ground and have done with it? You’ll ruin me far quicker.’ He offered a price that was a few coppers less per barrel than what Roo had paid in Ravensburg. Then they began haggling in earnest.

      They were waiting for Roo when he came out of the third inn an hour after midday. His first two negotiations had proven profitable, earning him more than he had anticipated. He had gotten about 10 percent higher a price from Alistair Rivers than he had hoped for, which had made him bargain harder at the Inn of Many Stars. His final price had been within coppers of what he had sold wine to Alistair for, so he knew what he was likely to get at the Dog and Fox Tavern. He had concluded his negotiations in quick order, and as he came out of the Dog and Fox he said, ‘Duncan! We need to unload five barrels!’

      Then he halted. Duncan moved his head slightly to indicate the man sitting close to him on the wagon, who had a dagger point in Duncan’s ribs, though you had to look to notice it. To passersby it appeared he was merely having a quiet conversation with the driver of the wagon.

      Another man stepped up and said, ‘You the owner of these wagons?’

      Roo nodded once as he studied the man. He was rangy to the point of gauntness, but there was quickness and danger in his movements. Roo saw no weapons in the man’s hands, but guessed there was more than one of them secreted on him, within easy reach. His narrow face was covered by a two- or three-day growth of beard, and grey-shot, raggedly cut black hair hung loosely about his forehead and neck.

      ‘We was noticing you driving around and making deliveries. Wondered if you were new to Krondor?’

      Roo glanced from the man’s face to the man next to Duncan, then looked around to see if the two were alone. A couple of others lingered in close proximity to the wagons, men who could aid their companions in moments, without calling attention to themselves until needed. Roo said, ‘Been here before, but just rolled into the city this morning.’

      ‘Ah!’ said the man, his voice surprisingly deep for one so thin. ‘Well then, you’d not be knowing about the local licenses and duties, would you?’

      Roo’s gaze narrowed. ‘We declared our cargo at the gate to the Prince’s magistrate, and nothing was said about licenses and duties.’

      ‘Well, these aren’t the Prince’s licenses and duties, in a manner of speaking.’ The man lowered his voice so he would not be overheard. ‘There are ways to do business in the city and there are other ways, if you catch my drift. We represent interests that would seek to keep you from encountering difficulties in Krondor, if you follow me.’

      Roo leaned against the back of the wagon, attempting to look casual, while judging how fast he could kill this man if needs be and what chance Duncan stood of disarming the man who held a dagger on him. Of the first he was confident; he could kill this man before his companions could take two steps in his aid, but Duncan didn’t have Roo’s combat training, and while a competent swordsman, he would probably die. Roo said, ‘I’m very stupid today. Pretend I don’t know anything and educate me.’

      The man said, ‘Well, there are those of us in Krondor who like to make sure the daily commerce of the city goes undisturbed, if you see what I mean. We don’t care much for unseemly price wars and large fluctuations between supply and demand. Toward that end, we make sure that everything coming into the city has a reasonable profit, so that no one has too much an advantage, don’t you see? Keeps things civilized. We also keep thugs from roughing up merchants and destroying property, as well as make sure that a man can sleep in his bed at night without fear of having his throat cut, don’t you see? Now, to that end, we expect a compensation for our work.’

      Roo said, ‘I see. How much?’

      ‘For your cargo, it would be twenty golden sovereigns’ – Roo’s eyes widened – ‘for each wagon.’

      That was easily close to one half his expected profit on this cargo alone. His outrage couldn’t be kept below the surface. ‘Are you mad? Twenty sovereigns!’ He took a quick step back and said, ‘I think not!’

      The man took a step after Roo, which he had anticipated, saying, ‘If you want your friend there to stay health –’

      Suddenly Roo had his sword out and at the man’s throat before he could move away. The man was quick and tried to move back, but Roo followed, keeping the point of his sword touching skin. ‘Ah, ah!’ said Roo. ‘Don’t move too quickly; I might slip and then you’d get blood over everything. If your friend doesn’t get his dagger out of my cousin’s ribs or if either one of those two men across the street makes the wrong move, you’re sucking wind through a new hole.’

      ‘Hold on!’ shouted the man. Then, glancing sideways without moving his head, he shouted,