"He's a potionsmaster, like Robert, but Edward has a knack with old ancient potions that he somehow digs up in old books totally written in old runes that only old farts like him can read anymore. Edward likes to grow his own herbs as much as he can. Robert just doesn't have that sort of time. That love of gardening is how he got started with the grapes and the olives. He bought that house with a little land, made a go of it with what little land he had and made some questionable wine and some decent olive oil, and then bought more land, grew more grapes and olives and made better wine and better olive oil, and so on.
"He probably won't tell you this but, down in his cellar he's got some very limited bottles of stuff he has labeled as 'Thimble Wine.'" I asked him what the devil that was. I was fifteen. He told me I wasn't old enough, so I sneaked just a sip, just about only a thimble full, and it was such a high proof, I damned near passed out from that one little drink. It was the first alcohol I'd ever had, to be fair, but he only gives it to men with a strong enough constitution for it. And, for the record, he believes his sons and most all his his grandsons are weenies. They've never had it. He gave me a bottle of my own for Christmas. My dad, my uncle and my brothers would be completely livid if they knew. They can't buy, beg, borrow, or steal any from him. He tells them they haven't earned it yet, and they're clueless. They don't know what the hell he means."
Brian agreed that Jack had the right approach, and he took off on Brownie in the opposite direction from Jack. And Tyler was right. Brownie liked to veer off the path here and there to snag a bunch of grapes from the vines and then he would get back on task. But that usually gave Brian a chance to re-order a protection spell with a different spell, one of his own making, that would scramble the protection spell so it would be a lot harder for Gelding's men to undo.