James: "Gather all the smiths and silver you can."
Malia waited to dismount until James could help - her thick cloak and long skirts to ward against the cold made it a chore enough, but mostly she loved these little moments where James was both so strong and larger-than-life, but seemed to find a tenderness for her. She smiled her thanks, "my lord," as her leather boots crunched into familiar snow.
"These dogs have gone too far," Malia said, obviously referencing the Marauders with her derisive terminology. She began strolling, knowing that it would make their conversation harder for any one person to follow unless they were conspicuous about their eavesdropping. Her dress trailed behind her, gray-silver wool lined in fur that could well have been wolf. "They stole three barrels, by reports," which was a significant amount, but not the whole supply by any means. What had limited them? Manpower - too few men to carry the load? An unfamiliarity with the substance, enough that the thieves needed to be wary with the amount they decided to move…?
"You know these beasts and their moves better than I," Malia said, pausing to turn toward her fellow noble. "Will they play the short game, or the long? Is it likely that they already have a target in mind? Perhaps one nearby?" Several large estates, factories, farms, and more, in both their duchies fit that category, situated along the border.