Chapter 6: Act 1: Chapter 2

Eighth day, Sixth Moon, 228 AC

The tavern I was in, was fairly dingy, but it was as high-class as Deepwood Motte had. The tables were well used, but the floors were clean and there was plenty of light.

The man sitting across from my grabbed the proffered cup from my hand and threw back the shot of vodka. He let out a good cough, "'Ye were right, that is strong! Gods, the taste isn't too bad to boot!"

I tried to hide my pleasure, but it was good to hear the appreciation. I gave him an appreciative nod and replied, "Perfect for the guards coming in after a cold night, warm them up a bit, get them relaxed, and they'll spend more coin."

The innkeeper looked contemplative and muttered, "That they might." He continued on, "But they might not like it, it is new. Then I have barrels of this vodka I can't sell. Mighty risky."

Damn. I continued blithely, "Well, there is a lot of coin to be made though. Sell a shot for a halfpenny, and you can earn at least 20 stags of the barrel. Seems like a lot of money to me."

The innkeeper nodded and gave a small smile, "Aye that it does. How often can you supply me with it if need be?"

Here I gave a small shrug, "Nothing more till winter is over, but come spring if winter isn't too long I could maybe get you another two more barrels."

The innkeeper didn't look impressed. He gave a rude snort, "If'n this sells like you say, that won't be enough." He drummed his fingers on the wooden table, and then filled up another cup and shot it back. "Here's what I can do. I'll give you 3 stags per barrel, and come spring you come back with another two and we talk about how much more you can give me and a new price?"

I thought on that, for it was not as high as I wanted, and wouldn't even start to pay back the time I spent getting the still working, or all the waste. I responded, "How about 3 stags per barrel, and two smaller barrels of wine?"

The innkeeper snorted, "Ha! 2 stags each and two barrels of wine."

"5 stags total and the two barrels of wine?"

The innkeeper mulled that over in his head for a moment and then gave a nod. We clasped hands and he turned around and shouted out, "Boy! Come grab these barrels and put it in the back!"

As the innkeeper's son took away the barrels, I started to load up the barrels of wine the boy brought out. It was a good trade, and I knew the innkeeper likely foisted off his worst wine on me, but that didn't matter much. I was going to try my hand at brandy, though unlike vodka, I had never tried to make brandy before.

When I had finished loading up my wagon, I started walking down the street to see the rest of the market. It wasn't very large, but the aroma's wafted around the street as each merchant had their wares out on display. It was a hot day, but it was clear that autumn was here, and people seemed to enjoy one of the last few hot days before winter.

I picked up a few goods as I walked past, a few new work gloves, and I even splurged on some whale oil I had found. I had also gotten a kitten, as I wanted to make sure no mice got into my grain stores. I had been lucky so far, but I really didn't want to rely on that. The seller showed me the mother, and she looked well fed and healthy, and he said she was excellent at catching small pests like mice. I was impressed enough to buy a kitten, but I was going to wait and see how well she turned out before I bought any more.

Deepwood Motte was actually quite tranquil, as far as towns in Westeros went, and the heavy use of wooden architecture gave it a unique feel from a lot of the other stone castles that were spread throughout Westeros. The streets were just dirt, but well laid out with plenty of space. The main merchant street had quite the variety of different professions, and there was an open field at the end for travelling merchants to hawk their wares.

As I came to the end of the street, I saw the more temporary stalls of the travelling merchants. As I was looking for the man I came to meet, I heard a voice call out, "Ragnar! Over here!"

I turned my head and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man walk out from behind a wagon a few stalls up. I raised my hand to greet him and started to walk over.

When I had come North to start my new life, I realized I needed a name. My Westerosi parents named me Micah by some twist of fate, but I had no last name. My new mother however, always called my father Raggy, since he collected the brightest and most colorful rags he could find. He always liked to brighten up our home as much as he could. I had decided I wanted to start using my 'real' name again, but I wanted to honor my new parents. I decided to go by Michael Ragnar, since I wanted to honor them, and well -to be honest- I wanted a tough sounding name. I figured a Viking name would be good enough.

"'Lo Kiran, good travels?"

Kiran laughed as we clasped hands, "Aye! We made good time up the Kingsroad for once, and it was nice and warm the whole way here! No bandits bothered us either, though we always kept watch! I won't be no Sleepy Jack!"

I nodded, knowing how miserable travelling in the cold and rain was. As we walked to the back of the wagon I questioned, "So did you manage to get everything?"

He gave a nod and said, "Got everything you wanted, even that damn heavy monster you wanted."

I gave him a grin, "I warned you it would be heavy. Any problems with the sugar?" I had hoped to make some rubbing alcohol to help stave off any infections I might get, and I knew the general idea of how to make it. Although with the costs of sugar, I was probably not going to have very much.

"The sugar was there waiting, but the merchant was none to happy. Seems he thought you were going to get it sooner."

I rolled my eyes, "Damn fool, I told him it was like to be a year before I picked it up no matter how quickly he could get it."

Kiran opened the wagon and started passing my things down to me as I loaded them into my wagon. I had gotten some pots and pans, my stove, some piping for the chimney, and my sugar. I had gotten Kiran to move them up to Deepwood for me last year, when I had visited White Harbor. Kiran was a travelling merchant who would, if paid, pick things up and deliver them to another city on along his stop. He was like a medieval UPS. He was quite expensive, but he was insured and had guards. The insurance thing took me for a loop when I first heard about it. I didn't think such a thing existed here, but apparently it was a fairly big thing in Braavos, and cities that did a lot of trade with them usually adopted insurance in some manner.

After I had paid him we stood and talked for a bit, mentioning that it seemed everyone throughout the North was preparing for winter. It seemed word had passed from the lords, that winter was guessed to be only two years this time, though the summer was three. He laughed at me when I told him this was to be my first winter here and called me a summer child. Eventually I had to move on since I had gotten everything I came for and I wanted to be out of the town before night fell.

I had found a small piece of amber in the previous year in the forests by the coast, a leftover from a raid perhaps, and I had taken to carving it in my spare time. I didn't really know how, but I tried to cut it like the classic diamond shape. I had purchased a basic bronze necklace that I wanted to attach it to, so that I could gift it to Nyra for my proposal. So, I carved as I rumbled down the road, passing beneath the sun-soaked trees, and let myself sing a quiet song.

"Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain, with the barkers and the colored balloons…"