"What sort of general merchandise?" Silk pressed.
"Household goods, tools, bolts of cloth, foodstuffs—that sort of thing."
"Well, now," Silk said, his nose twitching even more violently. "Maybe you and I can do some business. My friends and I have a long way to go, and we're running a little short of supplies. You mentioned foodstuffs. What sort of foodstuffs?"
The merchant's eyes narrowed. "Bread, cheese, butter, dried fruit, hams. I’ve even got a fresh side of beef. I warn you, though, those things are going to cost you very dearly. Food's scarce in this part of Darshiva."
"Oh," Silk said blandly, "I don't think they'll cost all that much—unless you plan to wait here to greet Urvon when he arrives."
The merchant stared at him in consternation.
"You see, my friend," Silk continued, "you have to leave—and very soon, I think. That wagon of yours won't carry everything you've got in your shop, and your team isn't going to be able to move very fast—not the way you're loading the wagon. My friends and I have fast horses, though, so we can afford to wait a little longer. After you leave, we might just browse through your shop for the things we need."
The merchant's face went suddenly very pale. "That's robbery," he gasped.
"Why, yes," Silk admitted blandly, "I believe some people do call it that." He paused for a moment to allow the merchant time to understand the situation fully.
The fat man's face grew anguished. Then Silk sighed. "Unfortunately, I'm cursed with a delicate conscience. I can't bear the thought of cheating an honest man—unless I absolutely have to." He lifted a pouch from his belt, opened it, and peered inside "I seem to have eight or ten silver half-crowns in here," he said. "What would you say to five of them for everything my friends and I can carry?"
"That's outrageous!" the merchant spluttered.
With some show of regret, Silk closed the pouch and tucked it back under his belt. "I guess we'll just have to wait, then. Do you think you and your men will be much longer?"
"You're robbing me!" the merchant wailed.
"No, not really. The way I see it, what we have here is a buyer's market. That's my offer, friend—five silver half-crowns. Take it or leave it. We'll wait over there across the street while you decide." He turned his horse and led Garion and Zakath toward a large house on the other side of the street.
Zakath was trying very hard to stifle a laugh as they dismounted. "We're not quite done yet," Silk muttered. "It needs just one more little touch." He went up to the locked door of the house, reached into his boot, and took out a long, pointed needle. He probed at the lock for a moment, and it snapped open with a solid-sounding click. "We'll need a table and three chairs," he told them. "Bring them out and set them up in front of the house. I'll rummage around and find the other things we'll need." He went into the house. Garion and Zakath went into the kitchen and carried out a fair-sized table. Then they went back for chairs.
"What's he up to?" Zakath asked with a look of bafflement on his face.
"He's playing," Garion said with a certain disgust. "He does that from time to time during his business dealings."
They carried out the chairs and found Silk waiting for them. Several bottles of wine and four goblets sat on the table. "All right, gentlemen," the little Drasnian said. "Seat yourselves and have some wine. I'll be right back. I want to check something I saw at the side of the house." He went around the corner and came back after a few minutes with a broad smirk on his face. He sat, poured himself a goblet of wine, leaned back in his chair, and put his feet op on the table with the air of a man planning to make a long stay of it. "I give him about five minutes," he said.
"Who?" Garion asked.
"The merchant." Silk shrugged. "He'll only be able to watch us sitting here for so long and then he'll start to see things my way."
"You're a cruel, cruel man, Prince Kheldar." Zakath laughed.
"Business is business," Silk replied, taking a sip of his wine. "This really isn't bad, you know," he said, holding up his goblet to admire the color of the wine.
"What were you doing around at the side?" Garion asked him.
"There's a carriage house there—with a large lock on the door. You don't flee a town and lock a door unless there's something valuable behind it, do you? Besides, locked doors always pique my curiosity."
"So? What was inside?"
"Rather a nice little cabriolet, actually."
"What's a cabriolet?"
"A two-wheeled carriage."
"And you're going to steal it."
"Of course. I told the merchant over there that we'd take only what we could carry. I didn't tell him how we were going to carry it. Besides, Durnik wanted wheels to make something to carry your wolf in. That little carriage could save him all the trouble of building things. Friends should always help their friends, right?" As Silk had predicted, the merchant could only bear watching the three of them lounging at the table across from his shop for just so long. As his men finished loading the wagon, he came across the street. "All right," he said sullenly, "five half-crowns—but only so much as you can carry, mind."
"Trust me," Silk told him, counting out the coins on the table. "Would you care for a glass of wine? It's really quite good."
The merchant snatched up the coins and turned without answering. "We'll lock up for you when we leave," Silk called after him.
The fat man did not look back.
After the merchant and his men had ridden off down the street, Silk led his horse around to the side of the house while Garion and Zakath crossed the street to plunder the fat man's shop.
The little two-wheeled carriage had a folding top and a large leather-covered box across its back. Silk's saddle horse looked a bit uncomfortable between the shafts of the carriage, and the sense of being followed by the wheeled thing definitely made him nervous.
The box across the back of the cabriolet held an astonishing amount of supplies. They filled it with cheeses, rolls of butter, hams, slabs of bacon, and several bags of beans. Then they filled up the empty spaces with loaves of bread. When Garion picked up a large bag of meal, however, Silk firmly shook his head. "No," he said adamantly.
"Why not?"
"You know what Polgara makes with ground meal. I'm not deliberately going to volunteer to eat gruel for breakfast every morning for the next month. Let's get that side of beef instead."