Annon waited, staring at the man. He knew that silence had a way of torturing others into speaking. He won his gamble.
“My name is Dwyer,” the Preachán said softly. “I can take you to Erasmus, but I must first know your business.”
The Druidecht smiled. “Anyone who knows Tyrus Paracelsus knows he shares his business with no one. I will explain the matter with him directly.”
“Is it just for yourself or does it include the other two you entered with? You’ve already caught the eye of Kiranrao, it seems. It is better to remain beneath his notice, if you understand me.”
Annon gazed across the room at Kiranrao’s table. He saw Paedrin and Hettie together, their faces animated in a heated exchange. He turned back. “When can we see Erasmus?”
“He left shortly before ye arrived. It gets too rowdy here at the Millpond after dusk. I’ll meet ye behind the tavern. The mood is starting to shift. There may be a fight.”
“I will gather my friends and meet you outside.” He thought a moment about warning the man not to run, that the girl with him was a Finder, but he thought it best to say nothing and show him a little bit of trust. If he waited, good. If he did not, Hettie could use her skills to hunt him.
Dwyer slipped away from the table and Annon waited as Paedrin and Hettie continued their blistering tirade. Annon was sitting, somber and alone, when they reached his table. “We need to go,” he said softly.
“Did you find Erasmus?” Paedrin asked after slamming his palms on the table petulantly. He gave a half-jerk motion with his head back at Hettie who approached rapidly.
“No, but a man who treats with him. He does little business here at the Millpond past dusk. He left before we arrived.”
“How do you know the man isn’t leading us into a trap?” Paedrin asked levelly, keeping his voice low. He gesticulated suddenly, stabbing his finger toward Kiranrao’s table.
“I think we can trust him. He was a very different sort than the Preachán we have seen so far. Very cold and calculating. Not the kind who gushes and tries to sell you for a favor. He was surprised I even knew of Erasmus or how to find him here. When I mentioned my uncle, his countenance changed visibly. He’ll meet us in the back right now and lead us to where he does business. I do not think it is safe to deal here. Follow me out the back.”
Annon was glad he trusted Dwyer, for he was waiting just outside the rear doors of the tavern. He looked even more wary and distrustful, his arms folded across his chest as he waited in the alley for them.
“Tell me again why there are three of you,” he said suspiciously as they approached. There was no greeting.
Annon motioned to him. “This is Dwyer.”
Dwyer did not so much as shrug at them. “It is a long walk from Kenatos, lads, and before I take you to see Erasmus, I need to be clear the sort of business this is. Are you looking to wager with your uncle’s money? Is that it?”
Annon shook his head. “It has nothing to do with a bet.”
“Erasmus is not an easy man to negotiate with. He’s as stubborn as they come because he knows what he knows. He doesn’t suffer fools, and he doesn’t barter. He asks a fair price. He’ll not cheat you. But when he offers his price, he will expect it all. Not a pent less. He knows the value of things.”
“That is understandable,” Annon said. “What we seek is information, not a deal.”
Dwyer shook his head impatiently. “Exactly. That is his business. Information. He remembers everything that anyone has ever said or written. Literally. I do not jest with ye, lads. For fun, he counts the mugs of ale and wine drunk in the Millpond each day as well as the number that are spilled. He gets his drinks for free because he tells the tavern master what to order and how much every moon cycle. He is never wrong, not that I have ever seen. He is uncanny, so they say. He is not like the crowd in the Millpond. He watches them, listens in, and feels what is going on in the room. He has the smell of it, you see. Drop a fistful of coins, and he can tell you how many ducats fell and whether they were silver or gold.”
Paedrin folded his arms. “He sounds rather boring. When can we meet him?”
Dwyer looked annoyed. “He accepts few visitors.”
“Take us to him, please.” Annon stepped forward, asserting himself as their leader.