and Arch flanking them, left the hostelry and walked through the town towards the office. On the way, Art noticed that some of the men were carrying something in a leather carry case at their hip. Art had never seen anything like it before, so he asked the Count, “Master, what is the thing I see men carrying at their hips?”
The Count stopped walking, and turned to Art, “This is not the time for an explanation. It is an important difference between the two countries, and I will tell you all about it in private this evening.” They walked in silence for the rest of the way while Art carefully looked around him for other differences. The office turned out to be a huge featureless building with only a sign that read “Southern Spices” on it. They went through a small door into an amazing looking reception area. There were plants, some quite big, scattered around. The carpeting was lush, and there were comfortable chairs.
A tall middle-aged man walked up to them, and greeted them, “My Lord Farnham, so nice to see you again.” He gave a little bow and continued, “We have tea ready in the reception room.” He waved his arm in the direction of a door, and they were all guided through. The room was dominated by a table with snacks upon it. As they sat down around it, another door opened, and a servant brought in two big teapots which he set down at either end of the table.
“I see you are still as efficient as ever, Jorn.” the Count remarked. He then did a round of introductions finishing with, “and this is my son Art. He needs to learn about the family business. I may send him to you for a bit in the future.”
Art sensed a familiar feeling wash over him. It was happening again. His future was being discussed in front of him while he had no say whatsoever. He wished he could do something to influence events, but as the Count had such a strong personality and was so overwhelmingly powerful, Art knew he would have to pick his time and words carefully.
While Art had been drifting with these thoughts, the Count was still speaking, “Of course, he has a lot of other things to learn first, but he is a quick study and can be very helpful.”
Art decided now was the time to say something so he stood up and bowed to Jorn and said, “Whenever I am sent to you, I will do my very best, both for you and my father.” He sat back down abruptly thinking, “ I hope I didn’t overdo it.” He turned to c>He you a his father and smiled, projecting the hope, “Was that okay?” The Count did not react.
A short while later, the Count left with Jorn, and an apprentice came to show Art around. The place was huge, and there were bales of goods neatly packed and arranged all the way to the ceiling. There were ladders on wheels attached to the shelving. He was shown how a pulley and donkey system raised and lowered the goods on pallets. He saw the receiving and loading bay, with all sorts of carts and trolleys. The whole thing was obviously very well organized and ran smoothly. He saw a man come in with an order paper, and not more than three minutes later, it was delivered complete to the loading dock. Art remembered the store back in Dane’s Hamlet. It took the shopkeeper there twice the time to serve a customer who wanted something off the higher shelves. Art was impressed!
That evening, after they had all had a very good meal in a private room, the Count remarked to Art, “You probably have some questions.”
Art thought that was an understatement, but replied only, “You said that you would tell me about those things that I saw some men carrying today?”
The Count sighed and said, “The guns. They were guns, and before you ask what a gun is I should tell you that they are banned in Galland as well as in many of our neighbours. I don’t like guns. Guns shoot a bullet, commonly lead, that can reach a speed of over a mile in a second. They are a very nasty weapon. As a healer you can understand that something moving
The Count stopped walking, and turned to Art, “This is not the time for an explanation. It is an important difference between the two countries, and I will tell you all about it in private this evening.” They walked in silence for the rest of the way while Art carefully looked around him for other differences. The office turned out to be a huge featureless building with only a sign that read “Southern Spices” on it. They went through a small door into an amazing looking reception area. There were plants, some quite big, scattered around. The carpeting was lush, and there were comfortable chairs.
A tall middle-aged man walked up to them, and greeted them, “My Lord Farnham, so nice to see you again.” He gave a little bow and continued, “We have tea ready in the reception room.” He waved his arm in the direction of a door, and they were all guided through. The room was dominated by a table with snacks upon it. As they sat down around it, another door opened, and a servant brought in two big teapots which he set down at either end of the table.
“I see you are still as efficient as ever, Jorn.” the Count remarked. He then did a round of introductions finishing with, “and this is my son Art. He needs to learn about the family business. I may send him to you for a bit in the future.”
Art sensed a familiar feeling wash over him. It was happening again. His future was being discussed in front of him while he had no say whatsoever. He wished he could do something to influence events, but as the Count had such a strong personality and was so overwhelmingly powerful, Art knew he would have to pick his time and words carefully.
While Art had been drifting with these thoughts, the Count was still speaking, “Of course, he has a lot of other things to learn first, but he is a quick study and can be very helpful.”
Art decided now was the time to say something so he stood up and bowed to Jorn and said, “Whenever I am sent to you, I will do my very best, both for you and my father.” He sat back down abruptly thinking, “ I hope I didn’t overdo it.” He turned to c>He you a his father and smiled, projecting the hope, “Was that okay?” The Count did not react.
A short while later, the Count left with Jorn, and an apprentice came to show Art around. The place was huge, and there were bales of goods neatly packed and arranged all the way to the ceiling. There were ladders on wheels attached to the shelving. He was shown how a pulley and donkey system raised and lowered the goods on pallets. He saw the receiving and loading bay, with all sorts of carts and trolleys. The whole thing was obviously very well organized and ran smoothly. He saw a man come in with an order paper, and not more than three minutes later, it was delivered complete to the loading dock. Art remembered the store back in Dane’s Hamlet. It took the shopkeeper there twice the time to serve a customer who wanted something off the higher shelves. Art was impressed!
That evening, after they had all had a very good meal in a private room, the Count remarked to Art, “You probably have some questions.”
Art thought that was an understatement, but replied only, “You said that you would tell me about those things that I saw some men carrying today?”
The Count sighed and said, “The guns. They were guns, and before you ask what a gun is I should tell you that they are banned in Galland as well as in many of our neighbours. I don’t like guns. Guns shoot a bullet, commonly lead, that can reach a speed of over a mile in a second. They are a very nasty weapon. As a healer you can understand that something moving
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