Watching Pat Noble's smile grow wider, I finally let out a breath of relief.
*These two father and son really are birds of a feather—both eat up compliments like candy.*
Pat Noble seemed to feel a bit uncomfortable and cleared his throat, speaking seriously. "What you're saying has merit, but you need to grasp what this Ten-thousand-year-old herb means."
I gave a slight nod.
*Think I can get him to fork over the herb with some sweet talk? Not a chance in hell.*
The real deciding factor in any negotiation always came down to what each side could offer, which always traced back to personal strength.
Pat Noble spoke in a low voice. "If I hand this herb over to you, what's in it for me?"
I thought it over, then replied, "I'm an alchemist. I can brew pills for you, whatever type you need."
Pat waved his hand and shook his head. "That won't cut it," he said.
I answered firmly, "Mr. Noble, go ahead and name your price. If it's something I can handle, I won't back down."
