Rise of a Merchant Prince

“I’ve heard a thing or two,” said Roo.

 

Erik laughed and shook his head. Most likely he had heard it from Helmut Grindle, the trader they had traveled with for a while when coming to Krondor. Roo and Grindle had spoken of many things commercial, and while Erik had found some of the conversation diverting, as often as not it put him to sleep.

 

A moment later, a dignified-looking man wearing an unadorned but expensive tunic with an overvest and cravat approached. He studied the two young men before him for a moment, then said, “My word! Young von Darkmoor and Mr. Avery, if I’m not mistaken.”

 

Roo nodded as Erik said, “Yes, Mr. Lender. We gained our pardon.”

 

 

 

“Most unusual,” said Lender. He motioned for the waiter to open the railing for him to step through. “Only members are permitted behind this second railing.” He indicated with a wave of his hand that Roo and Erik should sit at an empty table a few feet away.

 

He motioned for the waiter and said, “Three coffees.” Looking at Roo and Erik, he asked, “Have you broken fast today?” When they answered in the negative, he said to the waiter, “Some rolls, jams and honey, and a platter of cheese and sausage.”

 

As the waiter hurried off, Lender said, “As you are pardoned, you obviously do not need my services as a solicitor, so perhaps you need them as a litigator?”

 

Erik said, “Not really. I came to pay you your fee.”

 

Lender began to object, but Erik said, “I know you refused to take gold before, but despite your having lost the pleading, we are here and alive, so I think you’re entitled to your fee.” He produced his money pouch and put it upon the table. It clinked with the heavy sound of gold coins.

 

Lender said, “You’ve prospered, young gentlemen.”

 

“It’s a payment for services from the Prince,” said Roo.

 

Shrugging, Lender opened the purse, counted out fifteen golden sovereigns, then closed the purse, pushing it back toward Erik. He pocketed the coins.

 

“Is that enough?” asked Erik.

 

“Had I won, I would have charged you fifty,” said Lender as the coffee arrived.

 

Roo had never cared for coffee, so he sipped at it, expecting to put aside the cup and ignore it. But to his surprise, instead of the bitter brew he had tasted before, this was a rich complex taste. “This is good!” he blurted.

 

Erik laughed and tried his, then said, “It is.”

 

“Keshian,” said Lender. “Far superior to what is grown in the Kingdom. More flavor, less bitterness.” He waved his hand around the room. “Barret’s is the first establishment in Krondor to specialize exclusively in fine coffees, and as a sign of his wisdom, the founder placed his first shop here in the heart of the Merchant’s Quarter, rather than trying to sell to the nobility.”

 

Roo instantly came alert; stories of success appealed to him. “Why is that?” he asked.

 

“Because the nobility are difficult to approach, expect extreme discounts, and rarely pay in a timely fashion.”

 

Roo laughed. “I’ve heard that from the wine merchants at home.”

 

Lender continued. “Mr. Barret knew that the local businessmen often needed a place away from their homes or offices where they could discuss business over a meal, without the distractions of an inn’s taproom.”

 

Erik again nodded, having spent a fair part of his life in the taproom of the inn where he had worked as a child.

 

“So was born Barret’s Coffee House, which prospered from the first week it was opened. Originally a more modest enterprise, it has existed for nearly seventy-five years, in this location for close to sixty.”

 

“What about the brokers, and syndicates, and . . . you?” asked Roo.

 

 

 

Lender smiled as a tray of hot rolls, breakfast meats, cheeses, and fruits, along with pots of jam, honey, and butter, was brought to the table.

 

Suddenly hungry, Roo took a roll and slathered butter and honey on it while Lender answered him. “Some of those without offices of their own used to conduct business all day long and, to keep Barret happy, would buy coffee, tea, and food in a steady stream. Seeing this a pleasant alternative to hours of empty tables between meals, Mr. Barret ensured certain tables would remain reserved for those businessmen.

 

Raymond E Feist's books