Ghost of Whisper Creek

The group was not far outside of not even reaching the bend in the road northwards towards Jord’s Pyre, when Krita’s requested lieutenant road to the front of the lines. Leomorn Trannyth was a rather nondescript young man, brown hair, brown eyes, average build. Everything about him was average except for the exquisite blade that hung from his waist. Krita eyed the weapon, it was a single handed weapon that she would not like to wield in battle, but it would look nice on a wall.

“You’re of a brewing family are you not Leomorn?” Krita asked.

“The brewing family my Lady,” Leomorn answered his tone trying to sound confident, but his eyes were pleading for her approval. “There be six families in Linmead who brew: Arroway, Banks, Goold, Noakes, Townsend, and of course Trannyth. Ever see your father drinking something that was not from his own stash or Trannyth?”

Krita gave Leomorn a cross look and then a smile, “You know I don’t serve my father his mead, and even I don’t know where his stash is. I have no clue what sort of mead he drinks most often, so why do you really think your family makes better mead than the rest, and if you’re so proud why did you leave Linmead for North Port? Wouldn’t that sword of yours be better suited for guarding barrels instead of following warrior women?”

Leomorn gave a laugh, “Seems women get me into all sorts of trouble.” His hands with reins lowered to hold the pommel of his saddle as they moved along slowly. Krita gave him a curious look that told him to continue. Happy to have her attention Leomorn did so, “Pter Hubor, uncle of the current Lord Hubor, as well as the deceased Lady Arandil, served as Lord Arandil’s Master of Coin. He had a taste for mead, just like your father. Pter Hubor made trips to Linmead every month. Every month he would bring the same soldiers and his son. One time he brought his granddaughter, she was tall, blonde, perfect, just like you my Lady...physically...personality couldn’t have been more different, I was fifteen and immediately lovestruck. I came up with a plan to personally deliver her grandfather’s mead instead of him having to trek out to the village.” Leomorn gave Krita a look that spoke to just how much she reminded him of this granddaughter he crushed upon in his teens. “On her third trip to Linmead, I actually got to talk to her. She seemed to actually like me, but didn’t matter. When we got close enough we were separated.”

Krita chuckled at the story, but not enough so as to make fun of Leomorn. “Morn?” she asked using the shorter form of his name that she used when they talked on a more personal level. Leomorn was a wishful suitor, but one that had no chance with Krita, and she had basically let him know as much since he had the courage to make his intentions clear. She talked to him about her personal issues with the responsibilities of her House, he was the closest thing to a friend she had. “Why did you never tell me of this before? What happened to this girl?”

Leomorn smiled as he shook his head, “I was young and foolish didn’t check all my facts. Pter Hubor may have enjoyed Trannyth mead, but well before I was born his son had a different reason for attending the trips. He eventually wed the eldest daughter of the Arroway family. Her Uncle first, and now her cousin hold the position of town mayor because of this union, but until the day of your family’s arrival Lord Pter drank Trannyth mead. It was a source of discontent, so you can imagine the stir that my relationship with the daughter of an Arroway started. Lord Harryth had me placed with the rangers and sent away from young Lady Christa, who was wed to Ser Galvin Dorian, I gave up after that. He was the Lord Mardil’s sworn sword, your uncle managed to outsmart him, out quick him, but I was neither smarter or quicker, and definitely not stronger. Christa was gone. If she still lives in Kronnborg someplace I would doubt. Best case for her would be escape and she now is safe in Visby.”

Krita gave a soft look and a sigh, “I’m sorry Morn. You know this mission does take us that way, you can ask about her when we make Visby.”

Morn shook his head, “Let’s take care of this ‘Ghost’ before we reach Visby. It’s not my favorite place. I’d like to skip over Thornvale as well, the Hubor’s and Thorne’s are too uptight as a people for me. Individuals might stray from that, like Christa, but most of them just like taking the mead from Linmead, not associating with lowly soldiers from there.”

“In order to avoid Thornvale we’ll need to find something in Linmead,” Krita said returning to a more commanding business-like tone. “The reason for my question of your family. Would they or you know who the people in the know are in Linmead?”

“Trannyth usually keep their heads down focus on the mead, that why ours is the best,” Morn answered his chest puffed out a bit with pride. “Arroway would know everything that goes on in the town, they care most about their little tavern and getting their noses in everything. I wouldn’t be very welcome there however. You’d be better served sending Horeak and Megwan in there, they look the least like soldiers of the ones you keep close. I would best be served checking with the security teams.”

Krita nodded, “Do that.” She started to slow Oblekt to rejoin the rest of her troops when she remembered the supposed victims of ‘The Ghost’. “You say that Thornvale drinks Linmead’s mead, but doesn’t like their people. I suspect that means that they would want the best mead. Do the Thornes order from Trannyth?”

Morn shook his head, “Too expensive for them to get any quantity they always order from the Goold. Not a bad brew, if you can’t get Trannyth stuff.”

“Being your family’s closest competitors I don’t suppose you’re close with the Goold?” Krita asked. Morn shook his head once again causing Krita to laugh quite loudly, “You aren’t nearly as valuable as I had hoped here in your hometown Morn. Point me in the direction of the Goold, then give Horeak and Megwan directions to the Arroway tavern. See the troops are settled in someplace unobtrusive and then see to the security as you planned.”

Morn gave a nod of his head and the two fell back with the rest of the troops. The remainder of the trek to Linmead was not long at all. Morn directed Krita towards the Goold, Horeak and Megwan to the Arroways’ tavern, then pulled the rest to a stop and issued orders on where to set up camp.

The building that Morn had directed Krita to was not a home or an office, it was a warehouse. She slowed Oblekt as the guards at the large double door approached. “Who are you what do you want?” the burly guard on her right said baring his weapon to her.

“You should learn the face of the daughter of you liege Lord, dog,” Krita spat in anger. Her eyes left the demanding guard falling instead to the one on her left, slightly smaller, but by no means did he have the look of a pushover. “You smarter than your friend here?”

“Aye, m’Lady,” the second guard answered with a labored bow, “since you have come straight to the warehouse, someone must have pointed you our way. Most go to the offices in town, figure out too late this is where Davian spends all his time that he is willing to talk business. Thol runs the office, but he doesn’t know anything but numbers.”

“I wish to speak to Davian,” Krita said in a demanding voice, “Take me to him.” Two ‘yes m’Lady’s’ were given, the larger of the two moved to secure Oblekt while the other opened the door and ushered Krita inside. Inside was an impressive line of barrels she supposed they were in different stages of development, but never had concerned herself with the process of mead just drinking it. As they got further in the warehouse she heard a slight buzzing noise, as it got louder she saw two corridors branch off from the main warehouse. They took the right hallway, the buzzing continued to get louder, but Krita could tell they were not heading directly towards it.

An older man opened the door at the end of the hallway before Krita and the guards reached it. “Some reason you are disturbing me!” he yelled obviously not expecting Krita to be present. He quickly straightened and lowered his head, “The Northern She-Wolf. I apologize m’Lady. What can this humble brewery do for you.”

“Davian, you ship to Thornvale, to the Thornes specifically,” Krita stated without needing an introduction, “There have been rumors that at least one of your deliveries as of late has been hampered by what the people of the Northern villages are calling ‘The Ghost’.”

Davian shook his head, “Seems unlikely. I don’t manage the shipments, or handle the orders. I don’t know who pays, how much, or when they want to receive their product. My father was the head of the family before me. He very much liked his numbers, that must skip a generation. The moment I saw them making this wondrous liquid all I could do was ask questions as to how it is made, how it could be made better. I don’t know the particulars, but if some of my life’s work went missing or destroyed, someone would tell me.”

“You don’t care about the business at all?” Krita asked unbelieving.

Davian shook his head, “When I took over the brewery we made some of the worst swill to come out of this village. Worse even than the Noakes, I took what little resources my father would give me and steadily improved our brew. When Papa passed on, I took a good deal of the wealth he had built on poor mead and invested in better ingredients, now my brew gives the Trannyth’s a run for their money, though they won’t admit that. Thol has turned good mead into a thriving business, I don’t care what our profits are though as long as people keep drinking.”

Krita nodded her head, she gave him an admiring look. She couldn’t imagine the fight that must have taken place to build a brew from slime to quality in only, she guessed, twenty odd years. “Perhaps I will talk to Thol before I move on, but what makes you think that you would have heard about bad things happening to a shipment?”

“Thol would have tried to keep it from me. He likes to charge extra for a rush, even if the reason a rush was needed might be our fault,” Davian answered with a smile. “There are people all around however who know what pride I take in getting my drinker what they want. If I hear of a mishap I double or triple my efforts, bring in extra help and pay them twice the rate to make sure I get things out as soon as possible, and I have it shipped under Thol’s nose. Only time I ever handle logistics.”

Krita gave a gentle smile, “Sounds like the honorable way of doing business. I’ve heard that Trannyth mead is the best, from yourself even. I’m sure that Lord Ammon will have heard the same. That being the case I’m sure his stores are filled with Trannyth mead. I will be sure that there is always a couple barrels of Goold brew as well in Kronnborg, at all times. So you better ensure that someone in your family has the same love of the product as you do so someday you can pass the Trannyth.”

The old man smiled, “Good of you to say my Lady, and I will of course make sure that you have what you need. I might even ship some extra to you without Thol’s knowledge. As for passing on the need to better the brew, my nephew is the one that will do that. He is in with the bees right now. Maybe you can come meet him another time. Before you go double check with Thol on that shipment I want to give you something.”

Krita gave the older man a strange look as he hurried back into the room he had been working in. He returned with an ornately decorated meadskin. He presented it to Krita with a smile on his face. “It has the symbol of Goold Mead,” he said pointing to a gold brick with rays shining from it’s glow. “Just as selfish as it is selfless this gift. Good to have Lady of the lands drinking from a skin with my brews symbol upon it.”

Krita smiled, took the offered gift, and appraised it. “You have as much pride in your skins as you do in your brew good ser.” She said in an impressed tone.

“What is good wine in a subpar vessel?” Davion said with a smile. “Now go off and question my son. He will have the answers you wish. Don’t be a stranger to Linmead however m’Lady. We are a simple folk, but good folk.”

Krita smiled and gave a nod, “I will be back,” she promised and made her way out of the warehouse telling one of the guards to point her towards the office where she could find Thol Goold.

The offices looked older but built with the same care as the warehouse was. Krita guessed it was the previous patriarch of the family that built the offices and Davion who at the very least upgraded their work buildings. Again Krita was met by security and again simple mention of her name got her through that roadblock. She found herself sitting at a large desk waiting while the guards summoned their employer.

“How can I help you my Lady,” asked a grinning dark-haired man about Krita’s age. “I know that you’ve already visited my father so it must not be mead that you come in search of.”

Krita gave a smile and nod of her head, “You must be Thol, the son who handles the business. I come to question you about missing shipments?”

Thol tilted his head confused, “Missing shipments? I assure you that anything that left the warehouse, has been delivered or is on route. Nothing to my knowledge has gone missing.”

Krita gave the man an equally confused look and then smiled, “Not even to Thornvale?”

Thol gave a chuckle, “You don’t come here at the behest of an angered client. You come seeking news of ‘The Ghost’.”

Krita gave a good chuckle and a nod, “You keep to the rumors as well, so the delivery to Thornvale this Ghost was supposed to have captured. Truth? Or fiction?”

“That order was delivered on time,” Thol informed. “Lord Knight Thorne’s mark was on the letter that brought thanks, payment and request for the next order to be filled.”

Krita gave a hum and rose from her chair. Thol was quick to do the same. “Thank you, ser. I had already told your father that I would like to keep some of your brew onhand in Kronnborg. Perhaps you can see some delivered. I’ll send word to my Uncle to have you paid.”

Thol smiled widely and bowed deep, “I shall make arrangements immediately. It was good to have your presence in our humble offices my Lady.”

Krita gave a nod and left the office. In the square when she exited was Morn. “Security is quiet. There have been no attacks on the warehouses of any of the six families and none have heard of any attacks on caravans.”

Megwan and Horeak rode up as Morn finished his report. “Arroway heard the same rumor we had,” Horeak spoke. Krita eyed her squire and Megwan nodded her agreement with the report. “Arroway gave names of the disappeared. They were from Thornvale heading here for a shipment.”

“Odd,” Krita said with a smile, “Both the father and son of Goold told me that the arrangement for Lord Knight Thorne is that his mead be delivered by the Goolds and payment be sent upon delivery. The last shipment they sent out was delivered and paid for, and they have another order pending.” She gave an apologetic look to Morn. “I’m afraid Thornvale is where this story will begin to make sense. That is where the stories don’t add up. Let’s go rest up. In the morning we leave for Thornvale.”