Heathbrand poured out his third goblet of Dorwinion wine. The pain in his lower body was finally beginnning to dull and he sat back in his chair to think as he studied the light dancing off the the surface of the dark red liquid.
It had been an interesting evening. He finally had met the cook Hrothric had hired...interesting woman; she had looked far too high-born to be a serving girl, yet the meat she had cooked on the spit smelt delicious. Any visiting merchants or caravan guards would have little to complain of on that head. She was hiding something though, and she was afraid. Hrothric said that she had asked for a small salary of coin, yet she had told Heathbrand she would perform her duties in exchange for board and the quiet room on the top floor that had been set aside for her. She had made a show of packing up and leaving when Heathbrand had come into the room and started barking orders, but had calmed down quickly and become conciliatory at the prospect of having to move out into the village. She WAS hiding something...herself if nothing else...and valued secrecy as much as Heathbrand. Good.
He took another sip of the strong wine and rubbed his temple ruefully. It was hard to leave ten years of being a guardsman behind and his manner was often more captain than merchant. The man had been unexpected. At least the black dwarf had not spoken of any such individual. What was his name...Barraden? Heathbrand chuckled to himself, remembering the look on the man's face at his business 'proposal'. Completely unreasonable...yet that is how barter begins. So he wishes to move cheap goods from Gondor and Rohan? Ah well, let him try. The merchants of Bree will not deal with him and he'll be lucky if Bonny Thatcher doesn't empty a stew pot over his head with her view of southerners. Heathbrand had no objection to small coin...all coin was desirable at this point and it was easy enough to recognize a mutineer when he saw one. The man had been a soldier at some point and that could be used to advantage.
The wine was beginning to make his eyes heavy, and his thoughts went to the Black Dwarf. Unwin had spoken of jewels...rare gems from the Iron Hills, even rare treasures salvaged from Erebor. He had also spoken of eastern lands flowing with silk and spices....Rhûn and Khand...and what people would pay for such things. It was more of a challenge to find those who would obtain such things for him, yet not an impossibility. Patience; that was what was required...patience. When the right time presented itself, so would the opportune moment....
