Zato, after eating a breakfast, walked up to where the wagon would be, his several jars clinking together. There weren't many, but it was a good, strong brew, his honey sweetened mead. Not only was it popular among his fellow monks, it could also be sold if they ever ran short of money.<br/>He stretched his old legs a bit, preparing for a long walk to Pikewall. It reminded him of his younger days; he used to wander more often, but not in recent years, after he started caring for Mary. Still, it would be a short journey, and then he would be right back. An opportunity for him to travel came up rarely.