From: sbeitzel@netcom.com (Stephen Beitzel)
Subject: [Meriden]:Shopping Part 1
Organization: Netcom Online Communications Services
Date: Thu, 7 Jan 1993 10:19:09 GMT

Outside the room, Meriden and Jester exchanged glances.  Meriden said to
Jester, "Well, I've got some shopping to do, too.  Specifically, I wonder
if this town has an herbalist - I'm starting to run low on a few things.
Do you want to come along?"

Jester's gaze drifted over the thinning crowd in the inn.  He noted that
the servers were starting to have more time for the customers now that
the midday rush was past.  He shook his head slightly.  "No, I don't think
so.  I may go out soon, but right now I think I'll see if I might have
another ale.  It seems to me that there'll be precious little of that when
we leave tomorrow and for some time after that."

Meriden shrugged.  "Well enough.  I'll see you later tonight, or if not,
then tomorrow morning," and with that he went down the stairs.  As he
descended, he looked about for a small, scurrying figure.  Soon enough
he spied his intended guide.  "Will!  Will!  Come here a moment!"

The boy looked around wildly, and nearly toppled over a table with his
abrupt about-face.  He saw Meriden coming toward him and shrank away
slightly.  His face revealed his nervousness, and Meriden was quick to
reassure him. "No, no, don't worry, you aren't in trouble.  I just wanted
to ask you if there were an herbalist in town.  Is there?"

Will stammered out, "N-n-no, well, yes, but not here."  He was obviously
uneasy in the Meriden's presence, and his caution was causing him to back
up against the table he had just nearly overturned.

"I'm not going to eat you.  What do you mean, 'No, but yes, but no'?  
Calm down, gather your wits, and tell me," Meriden chided.

Will shrank against the table and said, "Just south of here, about a mile
outside the town there's a house near some trees.  The man who lives there 
is named Harald Middledays and he grows and sells medicines.  May I go
now?"  He was already backing around the table and away from Meriden as
he asked this, and Meriden just nodded absently.

"Harald Middledays.  Hmmm...." Meriden muttered to himself.  The name wasn't
familiar - it just resonated somehow.  He grabbed up his pack and headed for
the door, pausing by the bar to say to the barman, "I'll be going out for
a bit; when I get back, we'll see about that room, yes?"

The barman nodded his assent, and said, "Oh, yes, surely.  You may have to
share, though."

Meriden was already at the door and through halfway through the reply.  He
walked around to the stable and checked on Brodoni.  He patted the big
horse affectionately.  "How are they treating you here, hm?  Good?  Good.
I'm going off for a bit; you can keep an eye on these, right?"  He dropped
his pack with the rest of his baggage, and began rummaging around in the
various sacks.  "Now where did I put that belt...oh, here it is.  Say,
what's this?  Oh, yes, the elements for the exploding dye.  Now what're
they doing in *this* bag?"

After several minutes of this, he had rearranged all of the packs, and
withdrawn several small pouches and placed them within the larger
pouches at his belt.  With a final pat for Brodoni he said, "All right,
stay here and watch things.  I'll be back later," and he set out on his 
walk.

After walking along the dusty road for about half an hour, Meriden spotted
the trees and the house.  It was a small house - a single room, most likely,
with a fireplace and a loft and a thatched roof.  Coming closer, he saw a 
large garden out in front, and was impressed by the wide variety of plants 
growing there.  A few he recognized as having only ornamental value, and 
several had, he knew, strong healing properties, but most he could not guess 
at all what they were.

He stepped up to the front door and knocked.  There was no response from
within the house, so he walked around to the back.  Behind the house
stretched another garden, even larger than the one in front.  There was
a small building at the far end of the garden, which he assumed to be
some kind of workshed.  In the midst of the shrubs, vines, and trees there
was a figure kneeling on the ground.

"Hello there," Meriden called, "I'm looking for Master Harald Middledays.
Are you he?"

The figure looked up.  "I am," he replied, "and what business do you have
with me today?"

Meriden walked toward the man and said, "I'm going traveling and I need
some supplies.  Specifically these," and handed him a scrap of paper
on which was written a list.  

Harald considered it for a few moments, then gave Meriden another, 
appraising, look.  He said, "Some of the things you've listed here are very
rare, or are simply not available in this area.  Still, I can supply you
with most of what you want.  It's going to cost quite a bit."

Meriden had figured it would cost a lot, but he also knew that corpses
had no use for money.  Thus, he had come prepared.  He asked, "Do you
take trade?"

Harald hesitated, then returned a question.  "That depends.  What do you
have to offer in trade?"

Meriden smiled, and said, "That depends on how much of my list you can
fill.  I make items of great beauty and of no mean magic.  I specialize
in cloth - weaving, dyeing, embroidering - but can work in any medium.
What can't you get for me?"

Harald squinted past Meriden at the afternoon sun, then looked around at
his garden.  He sighed, and then rose, brushing dirt from his knees.
He gestured toward the house.  "Come inside.  We'll see what we'll see."

The interior of the house was similar to what Meriden had imagined, but
the loft was clearly where Harald slept, as there was no room at ground
level.  The walls were covered with cabinets, each cabinet containing
many, many, small drawers.  The drawers were unlabeled, but Harald seemed
to know where a given herb was - if not exactly, then within a couple
of guesses.  Meriden watched as Harald quickly began gathering small
bundles of plant matter - berries, leaves, stems, roots - and placing
them within parchment tubes.


-- 
"Faster, faster, faster until the thrill of speed overcomes the fear of death."
	- Daniel Keyes Moran
"Disclaimers are for sucks; these opinions belong to EVERYONE!" - Me
Stephen Beitzel - sbeitzel@netcom.com - sbeitzel@wet.com
Newsgroups: alt.pub.cloven-shield,alt.dragons-inn