your travels. I...I've never left the estate even as far as this. I have no knowledge of even the local town, as I told you yesterday."
Ned patted the boy on the shoulder and gave him a smile. "And it's just that naivety that I'm counting on. No one will try very hard to fool such a novice, and I will see through them and avoid calamity." Fred was floored by this statement of his worth.
Even Pat's face fell at such horrid talk. "Surely that isn't the reason you paid such a ridiculous price for the boy."
Ned's bushy eyebrows shot up and he glanced over to the girl. "High price? I hardly call what was given a high price."
Now the girl's mouth fell open. "Have you forgotten that you gave that lord forty gold coins? Have we any left for tonight's lodgings, or food to feed our mouths and this new one?"
"Of course I do." Ned produced a bag similar to the one he'd given Damskov. He shook the container and the bag made the sound of coins jingling together. "See? We are very well off." He pocketed the bag back into his cloak, but Pat was still dissatisfied with his answer.
"If that bag is full, then what did you give that lord in exchange?" she asked him.
Ned cloaked his face in an expression of false innocence. "Well, shall we say that I am out a few pounds of pay-dirt?"
Pat paled, but Fred was confused. "Pay-dirt?" he repeated.
Pat's voice told her horror. "You gave a lord with six knights pay-dirt?" she asked him.
Fred held up his arms. "Wait, what's pay-dirt?"
Ned smiled and pulled out another bag from beneath his cloak; Fred wondered if the underside of the cape was covered in such bags. The old man opened the drawstring and dipped his fingers into the opening. He drew forth a pinch of dark brown mud, and nodded at Fred's hand. "Hold out your hand, young Fred." After a moment's hesitation Fred obliged, and Ned plopped the mud down into his palm.
All three of them intently watched the mud; nothing happened. Ned chuckled and swiped the mud from his hand, but Pat was dumbfounded. "Is there something wrong with the pay-dirt?" she asked the old man.
Ned turned to her. "Hold out your hand and we shall find out." She did as was asked, and he set the mud into her palm. This time something happened; the mud changed its shape and color, and became a gold coin.
Fred's eyes widened, as did Pat's own eyes. "What is this? How did it not work for him?" she asked Ned while she nodded at the boy. Ned shrugged, snatched the mud from her hand and put it back into its pouch. He tucked the container back beneath his cloak with only a smile on his face while his companions were very confused; Pat wouldn't be brushed aside. "Ned, why wouldn't the mud work on this boy? Is he immune to magic? Is that why he's coming with us?"
"Magic..." Fred repeated. That's what this old man could do; magic. He was a magician of sorts, maybe one who performed tricks to earn money.
At her questions, Ned smiled and shook his head. "I haven't any idea what you're talking about, but the mud is working just fine." Ned leaned in toward Fred and winked. "It changes to gold when it senses greed, and your former lord had quite an abundance. He didn't even need to hold the stuff to affect the change."
Pat stiffened, and her voice was strangled. "You gave him only pay-dirt in exchange for this boy?"
"Of course. Pay-dirt is much easier to come by than gold coins," Ned countered.
Fred and the old man jumped back when Pat let out a roar of frustration. Her eyes burned with her anger and she stomped up to Ned and shoved her face into his. "Do you have any idea what trouble this may cause? We could be thrown into the locks, or worse, be found out! Would this boy be worth that much trouble? Would your brilliant plan look so brilliant?"
Pat's tirade was interrupted by the sound of a great cry of fury and anger; the noise dwarfed hers. They all stiffened and turned to the source of the anger; Damskov manor. Ned weakly chuckled. "It appears we had better make haste to
Ned patted the boy on the shoulder and gave him a smile. "And it's just that naivety that I'm counting on. No one will try very hard to fool such a novice, and I will see through them and avoid calamity." Fred was floored by this statement of his worth.
Even Pat's face fell at such horrid talk. "Surely that isn't the reason you paid such a ridiculous price for the boy."
Ned's bushy eyebrows shot up and he glanced over to the girl. "High price? I hardly call what was given a high price."
Now the girl's mouth fell open. "Have you forgotten that you gave that lord forty gold coins? Have we any left for tonight's lodgings, or food to feed our mouths and this new one?"
"Of course I do." Ned produced a bag similar to the one he'd given Damskov. He shook the container and the bag made the sound of coins jingling together. "See? We are very well off." He pocketed the bag back into his cloak, but Pat was still dissatisfied with his answer.
"If that bag is full, then what did you give that lord in exchange?" she asked him.
Ned cloaked his face in an expression of false innocence. "Well, shall we say that I am out a few pounds of pay-dirt?"
Pat paled, but Fred was confused. "Pay-dirt?" he repeated.
Pat's voice told her horror. "You gave a lord with six knights pay-dirt?" she asked him.
Fred held up his arms. "Wait, what's pay-dirt?"
Ned smiled and pulled out another bag from beneath his cloak; Fred wondered if the underside of the cape was covered in such bags. The old man opened the drawstring and dipped his fingers into the opening. He drew forth a pinch of dark brown mud, and nodded at Fred's hand. "Hold out your hand, young Fred." After a moment's hesitation Fred obliged, and Ned plopped the mud down into his palm.
All three of them intently watched the mud; nothing happened. Ned chuckled and swiped the mud from his hand, but Pat was dumbfounded. "Is there something wrong with the pay-dirt?" she asked the old man.
Ned turned to her. "Hold out your hand and we shall find out." She did as was asked, and he set the mud into her palm. This time something happened; the mud changed its shape and color, and became a gold coin.
Fred's eyes widened, as did Pat's own eyes. "What is this? How did it not work for him?" she asked Ned while she nodded at the boy. Ned shrugged, snatched the mud from her hand and put it back into its pouch. He tucked the container back beneath his cloak with only a smile on his face while his companions were very confused; Pat wouldn't be brushed aside. "Ned, why wouldn't the mud work on this boy? Is he immune to magic? Is that why he's coming with us?"
"Magic..." Fred repeated. That's what this old man could do; magic. He was a magician of sorts, maybe one who performed tricks to earn money.
At her questions, Ned smiled and shook his head. "I haven't any idea what you're talking about, but the mud is working just fine." Ned leaned in toward Fred and winked. "It changes to gold when it senses greed, and your former lord had quite an abundance. He didn't even need to hold the stuff to affect the change."
Pat stiffened, and her voice was strangled. "You gave him only pay-dirt in exchange for this boy?"
"Of course. Pay-dirt is much easier to come by than gold coins," Ned countered.
Fred and the old man jumped back when Pat let out a roar of frustration. Her eyes burned with her anger and she stomped up to Ned and shoved her face into his. "Do you have any idea what trouble this may cause? We could be thrown into the locks, or worse, be found out! Would this boy be worth that much trouble? Would your brilliant plan look so brilliant?"
Pat's tirade was interrupted by the sound of a great cry of fury and anger; the noise dwarfed hers. They all stiffened and turned to the source of the anger; Damskov manor. Ned weakly chuckled. "It appears we had better make haste to
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