Bob The Innkeeper 22 Chapter 22 Ink And Soup

"Your son still doing alright?" asked Leo, a troubled look on his face.

"He's doing alright, as far as that all goes. It's been hard on the two of us, losing our wives, and then the shop. I just don't know how we're going to pull through. He was talking about maybe becoming an adventurer, but we all know that's a horrible idea."

The old man sighed, and looked down at the zucchini in his hand. It was old and wrinkled, obviously from a late harvest.

"There's plenty of adventurers that miss your store. We did a lot of business there. It would be wonderful to have a butcher available again," said Zach, shaking his head.

Bob was reminded of how Stewart had been complaining of the price of meat. If it was true that Clark had shut down the butcher in town, then all of the meat was being hauled in from outside the city. That would definitely drive up the prices and lower the quality of the meat.

"What all would be necessary for you to be able to open up a new shop?" asked Bob. He could definitely foot the bill for a new shop to be opened, but he wasn't sure he wanted to get involved in something he didn't understand.

"I don't need much. The customer base is there, as are the animals to butcher. I just need a s.p.a.ce to be able to do it, away from the center of town, apparently, and I just don't see how that can be done. There's no place left in the whole city. Besides, even if I could find someplace, I don't have the merchant permit to be able to sell things."

"Zach, you sure about there being a lot of people wanting to get things butchered? What exactly was the process?"

Leo and Zach seemed to both clue in on what Bob was thinking of, and perked up, but the old man was still just looking down at the vegetable sadly.

"Well, we would hunt things while we were out, and often, we would have too much to be able to eat before it went bad, so we would bring it here to old Charlie and sell it to him. He would do his magic to the meat, then resell it to who ever wanted the meat. The extra stuff his wife would cook into meat pies and sell for a silver a piece. They were delicious. I'm sorry to hear she's pa.s.sed, though," Zach said sadly.

"Charlie, I'm looking to have a proper kitchen opened soon, and I could sure use someone who was good at butchering the animals that all of the adventurers who come around bring me. My man Liam can't keep up with a full kitchen, and none of the kids I've hired know a thing about cooking."

Charlie looked at him in shock and surprise. "But, Bob, how could you afford to hire me? What about my boy? This is so confusing!"

Bob laughed. "I knew when I decided to get a proper kitchen built that I would need to hire someone new to help in it. Liam is fantastic when it comes to making soup, but he won't be able to keep up with everything else, too. How about you and your son come by tomorrow and we can talk about this some more. I'll treat the two of you to free bowls of soup, so even if we decide it won't work out, you aren't coming by for no reason."

There were tears in his eyes as Charlie nodded exuberantly. He set the zucchini down, and Leo glanced at Zach.

"I'm about ready for a bowl of soup, mind if I step out for a moment?"

"No, it's fine. I have everything under control," said Zach with a nod of his head.

As soon as Leo had taken Charlie to get some soup, Zach turned to Bob. "That man and his son are some of the best butcher's I've ever known. I don't understand how this Lord Richmond guy can get away with some of the things I've heard of, but I can guarantee you that if you pull this off, with getting him back up and running, you're going to have a lot of happy adventurers coming by more often."

Bob smiled at the man and said, "That's the hope."

"The ink merchant's name is Horace. He said that he would stop by soon, as long as he doesn't have any customers," said Trudy, coming into the store. "Martha said she should have the first batch of tunics ready by tomorrow, and she would bring them by herself, because she needed to ask you some questions. Primrose is doing well, though two of the newest babies she just got aren't doing well, so the things you have been giving her have been immensely appreciated."

Bob nodded, "It's already getting late, so maybe Horace will be here soon."

All of the kids had already turned in for the day, and were happily chatting with each other behind him, spread out on the floor enjoying their bowls of soup for supper. They had all gotten their new boots and were excitedly comparing them with each other's. Vivian was sitting with them, smiling at some of their comments, but not really joining in much. She was still trying to fit in.

Horace stepped inside, and looked around. He was a large man, who wore long robes that fell to the ground. The hem was dirty and stained from dragging on the ground. His eyes traveled over Zach, before landing on Bob. It was obvious from his startled look, that he wasn't expecting to talk with someone so young. Bob recognized him, and felt a little queasy in his stomach. This man was very rich, so Bob asking him to come to him was a very big deal. He was starting to deal with the big fish.

"Welcome to my store. How many I help you?" he asked, trying to pretend that he was dealing with one of the common customers he was used to.

"I was looking to speak with a Master Bob? Would you happen to be him?" asked the man, with a snooty air about him.
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"I am," confirmed Bob. "Are you Master Horace? Of the Mighty Composer's Escritoire?"

Horace smiled a small smile and nodded.

"Fantastic! Trudy, fetch the Master a bowl of soup please! Vivian, bring the man a chair to sit on!"

The two jumped to do as he asked, and Horace was soon sitting at a small table behind the counter, near the fireplace, a steaming bowl of soup before him. The kids had scattered, leaving them alone to talk in peace. Vivian was standing at the counter; in case any new customers came through the door.

He sniffed the soup suspiciously, but gave in to the savory aroma, dipping the bread he had been given into it, and taking a bite. With a moan of pure delight, he quickly finished half the bowl, before he seemed able to get himself under control.

"This is the most delicious soup I have ever had! Why have I never heard of this before?" exclaimed Horace, looking at Bob.

Bob smiled at him and sat down on the small stool he had pulled up near the fireplace. "I merely serve a simple soup to the poor and the adventurers who are hungry after a long day of fighting and running missions. There's nothing out of the ordinary about it."

"Oh, I would beg to differ!" shouted Horace, looking horrified that Bob didn't take him more seriously.

"I merely wanted to treat you, in the hopes that you would be more willing to sell me the ink that mages buy for their spell books. I have a number of them who come in here buying my quills, but the servants of the n.o.bles buy more ink."

"That's because the mages need a much more impressive ink, then just the average stuff you sell. It's not cheap, though. Can you afford it?" asked Horace, taking another bite of his bread.

"That depends on how much you are willing to sell it to me for," laughed Bob.

Slurping a long drink of the broth, Horace gave a loud belch of appreciation, then looked horrified that he was being so uncivilized. "Please forgive me, I haven't been like this since my youth. I really must have more of this soup!"

Bob knew the soup was good, but why was Horace making such a big deal out of it? Maybe he could use that!

"Of course! I will see to it that you get some soup to take with you when you leave. Now, about this ink…"

By the time Horace was happily leaving with his soup, Bob had a deal where the man would have ink delivered to his store, at half the cost he sold it to those who bought it at his store. The only requirement, the man could have free soup whenever he came by, and Bob would guarantee a purchase of at least 5 vials a week.

Bob was sure he could pull that off, because as soon as the mage adventurers learned he had it for sale cheaper than at Horace's store, they would be more than happy to buy it from him.

As everyone was settling for the night, and Bob was getting ready to close shop for the evening, his dad burst through the door, looking pale and sickly.

Before anyone could do anything, he began to collapse and Leo barely managed to catch him.

"Trudy! Get the cleric!" shouted Bob, rus.h.i.+ng to his dad.

"He's been poisoned!" swore Zach.