Read Online The Free Trader of Warren Deep (Free Trader Series Book 1) by Craig Martelle - Free Book Online

the Stable Master before meeting any of the stable hands.
    “Greetings good sir!” Braden started with his routine. “My compliments to you on your fine establishment.” The Stable Master stopped him right there with a hand held up.
    “Who the crap are you, you stinking dung heaping pile of slime?” Braden had too often dealt with hostile customers to be perturbed at the Stable Master’s rude diatribe.
    “Free Trader Braden. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, …?” Braden held out a hand for a shake and a name, but the Stable Master spit on it.
    “That’s what I think of your Free Trader, boy. Crap off you crapping pile of crap!”
    “I will leave you to your thoughts, then, good sir. Please to have a fair turn of joy.” Braden knew there would be no deal here this daylight. The Stable Master turned and lifted one leg, forcing a heinous fart in Braden’s direction. Too late as he was already rapidly exiting the stables. Using his newly discovered ability to talk with the ‘cat without talking aloud, he exercised his thought speech, ‘G, did you get any of that? Are we in danger here?’
    ‘Yes. No. He is simply a foul creature.’
    Braden laughed fully at that. A lady pulled her young daughter close as they hustled past, their eyes averted. “Sorry,” Braden mumbled, still smiling. Next stop, the Blacksmith.
    The Blacksmith was far more congenial. He welcomed Braden to his hot and stuffy workshop. The heavily muscled man was covered in dirt mixed with sweat, forming channels running down his chest and back. He had a warm smile and readily offered his oversized paw. They shook heartily, Braden pleased the man did not crush his hand.
    “Good sir, I’m looking for two casks to hold water and a two-wheeled cart to carry them. After a most unpleasant conversation with the Stable Master, I am no further in my quest. Would you be so kind as to point me in a direction where I may find what I seek?”
    “The Stable Master! Ha!” He started to laugh and slapped Braden’s back with a massive man paw. “He’s in a right foul mood this daylight, isn’t he?”
    “How did you know?”
    “Because he’s that way every turn. Ha!” The Blacksmith’s voice boomed. The Stable Master could probably hear him as he was only two buildings away.  “You’ve come to the right place. My partner next door is the Woodworker. We make casks together. And I’m working on a cart in the back. It’s older, but the owner might consider a trade. See? Everything you want.” Braden nodded indifferently. Now that he knew what goods were available, the delicate dance of give and take began. If one seemed too needy, he would pay a higher price.
    “Let me see the cart and then we’ll talk about casks.” They went behind the Blacksmith’s shop, back into the fresh air that was only a little less warm. A rickety old cart stood there, its axle broken. Braden looked at the Blacksmith through narrowed eyes, instantly wary. He looked around to see if it was a trap, see if he was going to be robbed.
    The Blacksmith put up his hands to show good faith. “No, no, no. Don’t worry. I’m not out to steal from you. The cart is mine. I wasn’t working on it as I don’t have anything to pull it. I can have my partner shore up the wood here, and here.” He pointed to a couple areas that definitely needed help. “I won’t bother trying to fix the axle. I can replace it before the sun reaches its height,” he offered.
    “How long for the Woodworker to do his work?” Braden asked noncommittally.
    “A little longer, just past midday. Look here,” he said as he crooked a finger at the underside of the cart. Braden walked around the cart to put it between him and the Blacksmith. Then he leaned down to look underneath. The carriage and frame were in far better condition than the rest of the cart. Braden could see the Blacksmith’s legs and that he had not moved. For some reason he didn’t trust the man, so he remained