Chapter 17
Emil shook Perrin's hand. "Thanks for the collar, its good work. Like always."
"Of course! Anything for you. Now we're agreed? Four mutton chops?"
A hearty chuckle bubbled from Emil's chest. "Yes, yes. My finest cuts next time I'm in town. I promise."
"Excellent" Perrin grinned. "It's been far too long since I had some quality meat. I think I'm beginning to forget the taste."
"You should stop by the ranch when the storm passes. I've had a decent tupping this year and I could sell you a couple. Get you all stocked up for winter."
Perrin rubbed his wolf tattoo on his forearm absently. "You have a point there young Jackson. Perhaps the wife will let me. I'll have to ask when the weather starts to clear. Faile gets cranky when its cold and she's liable to bite my head off right now," he said with a laugh.
A final handshake and he gathered Isla, who was rubbing her collar with a pensive face, and left the blacksmiths. He was going to let her loose on the Weaver's alone, but her strange panic attack earlier caused him to rethink his strategy. Instead they walked over together, and began combing through the store.
Isla spoke in hushed tones with a young Weaver lass, who nodded in understanding brought several items to the counter and laid them out. Emil tried not to look at them since they were her under...things. Damnit he peeked! Well, it was just some long strips of cloth and some smaller padded ones. He had no idea what they were for, and quite frankly was way too embarrassed to ask.
He spoke to Weaver senior and spoke about various fabrics and their prices by yardage. Emil ended up adding ten yards of a light linen fabric and twenty yards of a thick wool most likely made from his own flock. Perhaps this he would intern Isla at the Weavers and teach her how to spin wool. Then he could cut Kim the wool merchant out of the negotiations entirely. The squat little man was trying to rip him off he was sure of it.
Their items cost a lot more than Emil was hoping at a whopping eighty silver. He figured it was worth it though, because if Isla was any good she could just make clothes instead of having to come back. Just to be safe though, he did buy her two good thick pairs of pants.
Next they stopped by Tack's, and purchased some thick padded boots that should last a while. Fortunately Tack had a pair of boots premade that fit Isla perfectly, with just enough room for socks. A gold was a lot of money for a pair of boots, but Emil never skimped on footwear. Everything was built from there, and if your feet were bad, so were you.
Finally the general store for some more of that ancient insulation, another half barrel of fuel for the truck and they were done for the day. It was just getting late afternoon, and if they left now they should be able to make it back to the ranch around sunset. Emil was very pleased with their progress.
They tromped over to the truck outside the pony, to load their purchases, but Emil stopped short, pulling Isla to a stop with him a few paces from the vehicle. There was a skinny man in a ragged military coat waiting for them and leaning on the truck. He watched them and waved friendly.
"Didn't mean to startle you friend. I wanted to speak to you, but didn't want to interrupt your shopping. I'm looking for work and I hear you're looking for a hand on your ranch. " The man said with a smile. He had a relaxed demeanor, and held himself with a confidence. Judging by the ragged coat Emil gathered he was a soldier, who had fallen on hard times.
Beware the man who is too clean, and beware the salesman who smiles too much
were two of his father's favorite sayings; but his mother had often said
Opportunity knocks once, be sure to listen.
He figured it wouldn't hurt to hear this guy out.
He turned to Isla, "Please load everything into the truck and secure it. I'll be inside the inn," he said handing her his few items. She juggled her load and caught his items without a complaint. Turning back to the gentleman, he gestured to the inn where they could talk.
They sat at the fire pit and ordered a couple of drinks. Emil got his usual hot toddy, and the gentleman got a large beer. He was surprised when the man offered to pay for both drinks, and his opinion of him went up a few points.
Once their drinks had been delivered, they both took a sip with a sigh of appreciation and shook hands for official introduction.
"Name's Markem, Mr. Jackson. I'm from way south. I was a military man, but my lord was overrun in a spat with another lord. It happens all the time and normally the armies are merged into the victors, but my Aldridge was a good man. Concerned about uprisings the new lord had the competing armies disbanded and spread rumors about immorality and lack of discipline."
Emil waited patiently as Markem sipped his beer, licking his lips before continuing. "This wasn't a problem for the lowest soldiers, or the ranking generals of course. Privates can be supervised, and Generals are above reproach; but I was just a lieutenant, a mid level man. No, I can't be trusted to supervise their armies; I could corrupt them. Bullshit. I have superiors too ya know."
Markem's knuckles whitened in an unnecessary grip on his mug, as he tossed back the last of the beer; dragging his already stained coat sleeve across his short beard. Emil still waited.
Always let the person selling do the talking, and never get excited.
His parents advice was coming in very handy today.
"So I was a soldier, without an army. I tried to find work, but no one would take me in; so I started north. Turns out you nothern lot are pretty self sufficient, and have no need of lords and ladies. I kinda like that. Be my own man for a change. The rub of it is, I'm a man who's good at running, lifting, and fighting; with nowhere to go, nothing to lift, and no one to fight. I asked around and a couple people told me you were looking for a ranch hand. I've never sheared sheep, but it can't be that hard. I'd like to come work for you for the winter. If I work out well, then maybe next year we can talk about me staying on long term."
Emil took a sip of his own drink. Hot toddies were pretty strong alcohol wise and he didn't want to get too inebriated during negotiations. He studied the man carefully. Besides his overly thin coat and ragged appearance, he had the physique of a man who had taken care of his body. He may not be as large as Perrin, but he certainly wouldn't pass out during chores.
It might be nice to have someone else deal with those twice blighted goats.
