I am quickly scribbling these notes before I forget any of the detail of this morning’s activities.
I met after breakfast with Barnabus Rey. Aldmaar had asked that I check in with the man while I was in town. Rey, as competent as ever, provided only good news. He has his men well-drilled and they have gone through the Lord’s Manor with, as he says, a fine-toothed comb, ensuring that every lock is in good repair and every barrier inspected, and where necessary, mended.
Later I had an encounter, in the square, with a men who I did not recognize. He was dressed well-enough. Likely a tradesman of some sort. Tall and rangy, with a rough patch of beard. He seemed to be watching the guards on their rounds a bit too attentively. I approached the man, pleasantly, introducing myself and asking him his business in Elder Pool.
"My business is my own," he replied, curtly.
"Perhaps," I responded. "And yet I will ask again what it is. I do not know you, fellow, and I note your attention to matters that may have impact on the business of myself and those I name my friends."
The man uttered a low oath, then claimed that he was a treewright and was simply come here to see for himself the quality of woodwork done in Elder Pool. "Nothing so special," he deemed it.
The man made away without another word. I allowed him to depart. Later, when I happened to mention to Rey this encounter, he was quick to dismiss it.
And yet, I wonder.