The Unwilling Adventurer (The Unwilling #1) (2 page)

During Fred's impassioned speech Damskov's face reddened until he was as flushed as a tomato. Just as Fred finished his final sentence Damskov sprang to his feet and knocked his chair over. He sputtered out his indignation. "W-what insolence from a mere serf! What disloyalty! I give you land to work as your own and a place to call home, and this is how you repay me?"

Fred noticed the old man watched him intently; the stranger pulled on his beard and had a smile on his wizened old face. "I'm not trying to be insolent or ungrateful, my lord, but I would rather work out my debt to you."

"You shall not!" thundered the lord. "I will not have such a serf on my land for a day longer!" He turned swiftly to the old man. "If you will pay the promised price then I shall be glad to have such an impudent boy off my hands!"

The old man nodded solemnly, though his eyes remained on the boy. "I am in need of a boy with spirit and energy. This one will do just fine." Fred saw the girl open her mouth, hesitate, and then snap it shut; her scowl deepened.

The old man's words gave Damskov comfort, and his anger cooled. He straightened his clothing and bowed to his guests. "Then I would like to invite you to dine with me before you leave."

The girl was alarmed by the suggestion, but the old stranger shook his head. "I'm afraid we can't take such an offer. Our business demands we hurry away." The stranger stood calmly from his chair, and the girl followed suit. He put his hand into his cloak and removed a large leather satchel. He untied the string and the sides folded out to reveal a large pile of gold coins.

Fred and his lord were in awe by the easy display of wealth; Damskov recovered first and coughed to hide his surprise. "Well, I've forgotten what we agreed to as a fair price. It was thirty gold coins, wasn't it?" Fred was taken aback by such a sum; his debt was not more than a few coins and he hardly guessed he was ever worth so much.

The girl, too, was stunned. "It is not! The deal was for half that sum!" She was calmed by a look from her companion.

"I see you are a shrewd man. As I'm sure the boy will be worth more than twice that sum, and certainly more than I will pay you, I accept your amendment to our deal." He fastened the bag shut and held it out to Damskov. "This satchel contains forty such coins. I'm sure you wish to count them."

Damskov eagerly took the bag and hugged it to himself. "I trust you, kind sir, and may you have better fortune with this boy than I find myself having."

The old man glanced over to Fred and his eyes twinkled with a strange light. "I'm sure I will."

With that simple exchange Fred's debt, and his body, passed hands from the life he had always known into the hands of this eccentric old man and his strange female companion.

CHAPTER 2

Fred wasn't sure whether to cry or be relieved. He was freed from one debt and cast into another. The only benefit to the first arrangement was he knew that devil, and now he found himself with a possibly worse devil in the form of this serf buyer. Damskov cared nothing for his former serf's feelings, however, as he pocketed the bag. "Seeing as how you wished not to stay for a meal, I must ask that you leave my estate with the boy as soon as possible. He is much too troublesome for me to want to keep him any longer."

"Troublesome?" Fred repeated. He found comfort in knowing that he was no longer indebted to such a greedy man as this one showed himself to be. "My lord, my indignation is understandable. I owed you a debt of money and you have sold my body to a stranger."

Damskov's eyes lit up, and he marched over to Fred. The boy didn't have time to react before Damskov wrapped his hand around his throat. Damskov pulled Fred's face up to his own, and his words spat spit into the boy's face. "Your body was the only form of payment you could give me that would fulfill the debt. Now you are indebted to this gentleman, and I expect you to be a loyal serf."

Fred squirmed in the strong grasp, but he was distracted in his thrashings by a stick that rose above Damskov's head. The knob slammed down onto Damskov's noggin; the lord gave a feeble cry and dropped Fred to the floor. The boy scurried out of Damskov's reach as the lord clutched his head and swung around.

The old man calmly stood there with his staff in hand and a smile on his face. "There's no need for such words and strangulations," the old man spoke up. "I'm sure I won't have problems with this fine young man, and considering he is mine now I would prefer that you not touch another hair of my property."

Damskov sputtered with indignation. "Y-you dare touch me, you filthy old man? Who gives you the right to do such a thing?"

"I make my own rights when I see that it will help another less fortunate soul than I," the old man replied. "However, if you would like to see my credentials-"

The old man held out one wizened hand and a bright blue flame shot forth from his palm. Damskov skittered back and Fred's eyes grew wide with wonder. The lord now looked at the old man not with hatred but with fear. "Castor!" he exclaimed. Fred was confused; he'd never before heard such a word used.

The old man closed his fingers into his palm and the light was extinguished. "Perhaps another time I may give you a better demonstration, but right now we are in a hurry." He toddled past Damskov, who jumped out of the way, and held out his hand to Fred. It was the same had that held the light, and the boy cringed back for fear of being burned. The old man chuckled. "Are you planning on crawling out of the manor, or would you prefer to walk?" Fred preferred to walk, but he scrambled up on his feet without assistance from the old man. His new master wasn't insulted by the refused hand; those old eyes merely looked on the boy with interest and admiration. Then he turned back to Damskov and bowed his head. "Good day, my lord."

The old man walked out of the room, followed closely by the girl. Fred hesitated until he saw the fury return to Damskov's eyes. Such an insult had put him in a worse mood than before, so Fred scrambled out of the room and followed the pair out of the manor. The old man led them all toward the fields and Fred's house; the boy himself followed glumly behind the other two.

The moment they were out of earshot of the manor the girl let loose her opinion. "What a stupid oaf!" the girl complained. She turned her furious eyes on her older companion who walked by her side. "And why did you give him so much money? Have we any left?"

"Perhaps that is better left for another time when we are at a greater distance from this estate," the man replied.

She stiffened and looked around; a few chickens and a pig wandered along the road but no one else. "Do you believe he has knights?"

The old man glanced over his shoulder at their follower. "If we want the answer to that question we should ask our young friend here."

The girl looked back and curled her lips up in a sneer of disgust. "I would rather take my chances with the unknown than this farm boy. I doubt he even knows what a knight is, much less if he's seen one around here."

Fred scowled back at the girl. "I know what a knight is, and I know Lord Damskov has six who answer to him," he replied.

"Then that is six problems I would rather avoid if you two would hold your arguing until later," the old man spoke up. The group arrived at Fred's home and stopped at the door; the old man turned to Fred and gestured to the entrance. "We haven't much time. Take what you can comfortably carry and we shall be off."

Fred paled at the thought of leaving his home, but Damskov had made it quite clear he was no longer welcomed. He reluctantly stepped inside and looked around his simple hovel. The bare earthen floor was well-packed by his feet, the table on his left filled with all the interesting rocks he'd found in the fields he tended. There was the shelf of food and the small hole in the floor where he kept his store of vegetables for the winter. All of it welcomed him home to a place he would no longer call home.

Before him was the small fireplace, and Fred wandered over to it. He ran his hand over the hearth, blackened with countless fires. He made many by himself, but others had been with his parents. With his separation from that house he felt a separation from their memories, and from them.

His new lord came up behind him and set a gentle hand on his shoulders. "We must hurry on our way."

Fred didn't know where the way would lead, but he understood he had to follow his new lord. He packed his spare clothes, food and the smallest of his trinkets, and wrapped them all in the blanket that covered his straw bed. The others waited for him outside, and the old man gave him a sad, small smile. "And off we go," his new lord whispered.

The companions set off down the same road the old man had walked up the day before. The entrance road to the estate was flanked by two large rocks, placed there long ago when the property was given to the family by a grateful king. They passed through these and traveled down the road in silence; the only noise was the sounds of their footsteps and the clack of the old man's cane against the hard-packed dirt. Fred stopped and ventured a glance back. His home, his former home, already lay a mile back. He could hardly see the cottage that had housed him since his birth. Regret set in; he wished he had been more polite to Lord Damskov and begged to stay. His companions noticed they were lacking one of their number and turned back toward him.

"What are you stopping for? We don't have time to waste on you, boy, so let's get moving!" the girl snapped at him. Fred didn't reply, and she was about to make another demand for haste when a hand settled on her shoulder. She looked to find her older companion staring at the boy, and he shook his head.

The girl lapsed into sullen silence and her companion stepped over to stand beside Fred. Fred glanced at the old man and hastily wiped a few tears from his eyes. The old man chuckled. "Come on, my lad, no tears. There's a lady present."

"I'm sorry for stopping, my lord, it's just that I can't help looking back." His heart ached to stand before the hearth of his home.

"You needn't apologize. I won't beat you for a few tears of sadness, nor even those of joy," the stranger assured him. The old man's eyes lit up. "But here we are traveling together, and you bound as you are to me, and I haven't introduced myself." He stepped back and bowed his head to the surprised Fred. "I have been called many names, but for the present time you may call me Ned."

Fred blinked. "Ned?" he repeated, sure he'd heard wrong. He would never have imagined such a simple name for such an ancient creature.

Ned nodded. "Yes, Ned." He gestured to his female companion. "This is Patricia, though she prefers the name Pat." Ned slid up beside Fred and leaned in to his ear. The man had more speed and agility than Fred gave him credit. "She is testy about the whole name thing, so go along with whatever she likes or she'll be sure to use that nice sword of hers on you."

"I will not!" Pat protested.

Ned pointed a finger down at Pat's waist. "You notice how at the mention of an argument her hand goes to the hilt of her sword? Very imprudent of her to show us she has a weapon. We may be able to relieve her of it."

Fred moved away from his strange new lord and the weaponized young woman. Anyone who was armed like that was sure to attract trouble, and trouble was the last thing he wanted. "I-I'm afraid this must be some mistake. Surely you won't want me to come with you on your travels. I would be more useful to my previous master."

Ned straightened and raised an eyebrow; the humor vanished from his face. "You wish to return to your old home?"

"I wish to return to the only home I've ever known," Fred corrected him. He sighed and bowed down his head. "But only if my lord allows me to leave. My debt passed to you and thus I am bound to you."

"Right and proper words, but the intention is unwise," Ned scolded.

Fred glanced up and frowned. "I only wish to return home."

Ned shook his head. "Then you wish for the impossible. Now that that man you call your former lord knows your body is of value he's likely to take you to town and sell you to the local slave trader." Ned looked the boy up and down. "And he's liable to fetch enough gold coins to incite his greed for human selling if you return to him again."

Fred's heart fell into the pit of his stomach. He realized the old man's words were true, but where there was desperation and fear there was bound to be denial. "I'm begging you to allow me to return to my home. I'm sure I won't be of any use to you on 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.