A few short days after sending his notice to the Baronship Household, Sir Nicholas received a reply.
With this, Sir Nicholas set off to his former Regimental Headquarters, Castle British, seeking out an old friend...
"Moving up the world, eh Major?" Sir Nicholas chuckled.
"Nicholas! Goodness! Ye startled me! T'is been a long time since we last served together." The attractive maturing woman let down her guard, a trained reflex that had her hand on her swordhilt, even in the middle of Castle British...
"Aye Rebecca, it has it has. And we shall have many hours to catch up in the pub! But I have a favour to ask..."
And at that, Sir Nicholas explained the situation to Rebecca, now Colonel Rebecca Harris. With a deft look, and a roguish smile, she gave the red hatted man the name of a barkeep in a local tavern, and bid him farewell.
On finding the barkeep, Sir Nicholas was able to negotiate information that would be relevant to the ale required for the Covians, soon discovering that the contact Colonel Harris had given him was cousins with an employee of the Yew Winery!
Sir Nicholas rushed to the British Stables.
"MY HORSE!" He bellowed.
"Sorry Sir Nic, yer 'orse ain't ready yet." A young smithy approached the red man dazily.
"Ye what?! What's wrong?!"
"Iss tha' shoes, Boss. Got ter give tha' shoes a good goin' over, yer know?"
"BAH!" Failing to hide his temper, Sir Nicholas rushed off in the direction of Yew, setting at a light jogging pace.
HOURS later he reached Yew Winery. At his age, running was suicidal, yet his years nay had the better of him; some military fitness had been spared and, taking only a few minutes to compose himself, he confidently stepped into the Winery.
After a quick nod of the head and a word with the Winery worker, Sir Nicholas had the deal set.
Later that eve..