Beam shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't particularly have any interest in the games that you play. I'll help you raise those five silvers, despite your actions, but in return, I want you to help me raise five silver of my own."
Even Dominus tilted his head in interest, as he thought he might be beginning to understand the boy's true self. "Is it just an unbelievable balance that the boy has? To truly be like water. To take whenever there is an opportunity and to merely struggle when there is not one. Is the natural development of someone who has nothing? Or is there something more to him? At the very least, he's better than those castle apprentices the nobility sent my way… Perhaps this month spent training him will truly be worthwhile."
"Oh? And how exactly are you planning to do that? I'm a merchant - not a fucking magician," Greeves said, spitting with disgust.
"I thought we were past these games, mister Greeves," Beam said, doing his best to appear menacing. "You're not a mere merchant, are you? You deal more in dark deeds than you do in coin… Well, I want no involvement in your criminality. I want as respectable a task as you can give me, one that'll fill both our pockets."
"Tsch," Greeves tutted. "There's no such thing. No way to get money quickly without dealing in more mm… unsavoury things…. But now that you mention it… Hmm… Yes. Yes. I might have a use for you, now that you mention it," he nodded now, seeming pleased.
"What is it? Spit it out." Beam said. "Also, if possible, you'd only require a few hours of my time a day. I'm busy training."
"Training?" Greeves scrunched up his face as if he didn't know what that word meant. "What're you training for? You plan to be a merchant, boy?"
"No," Beam said, a little too quickly. "Just training."
"Mm…" Greeves looked mistrustful, but he didn't push the issue. "So let me get this straight, you want a job where you only need to work a few hours a day, one that'll get you ridiculous money quickly, and you want all that from me, the man whose hand you're threatening to break?"
"That's right," Beam nodded in the affirmative.
"And people like to say I'm mad," he muttered. "Fine, fine. Yeah, mm. I do have a few jobs for ya. Stuff that's 'respectable' as you put it, you condescending little fuck. But, well, y'know, I can't say I hate you, boy. Can't say I do. Rare to see anyone with a flicker of intelligence to them and I do get bored dealing with rocks like Judas all day. And you can fight a little too – not bad for a little scrap. I'll tell you though, you're not gonna like the job."
"What is it?" Beam asked, on guard.
"Well… Ah, fuck. I suppose there's no harm telling ya, since we're already partners in crime, ain't we?"
"We're not," Beam said firmly.
Greeves chuckled. "Heh. Be like that. But we are. You've got details of a crime, you reckon that I committed, 'n by this deal here, you're swearing not to tell, aren't ya?"
"I suppose," Beam said reluctantly.
"See, we're already the best of pals then," Greeves said, "now I'm going to reach into my pocket yeah lad, nice and easy. See? I'm not making any sudden moves, no need to break my fingers…" He said, whilst reaching into the inner pocket of his dressing gown and producing a rolled-up scroll from its pocket with a broken blue wax seal on it.
"What's that?" Beam asked suspiciously.
"This here, is a letter from our good noble friend Ferdinand, the local lord's son, y'know? I'd give it to you to read, but I don't suppose you know how.. hmm?"
"I can read a little," Beam said, not being entirely dishonest. He knew his letters at the very least, and he could write his name and read some of the signs at the market stalls. But it would be a stretch to say that he was fully literate.
"Oho… This digger boy is just full of surprises, ain't he, Judas?" Greeves said. The massive man nodded in reply. He even looked impressed.
"Well, I'll let you give it a little read, just so you know I'm not lying through my teeth." Greeves held it out to Beam between two of his fingers, shaking it to indicate that Beam should take it.
Beam took it, and pretended to read as he listened to Greeves' explanation. "See that boy? That there is a pain in the arse. Bloody nobles, eh? Well, don't suppose you've ever interacted with one, but let me tell you well in advance: they are fuckin' scum. You probably think I'm a crook, don't ya? Naw, they're the real criminals. That boy there, he reckons that just 'cos he's the lord's son and all, and 'cos he's been put in charge of this village, he reckons he can give me little tasks like that to do, as though I'm his dog or something."
Beam looked at it. He noticed the words 'furs' and 'spears' but he didn't understand the rest of it, and he worked hard to maintain his bluff, though with every second that passed, he was growing more exhausted. He was so unused to dealing with social situations in general, that they'd often leave him exhausted. But this was another level. This was a level of concentration that he'd only recently known he could exert, and that was thanks to his games of Battle with his master.
He knew that the longer this lasted, the more likely he would be to make a mistake, especially since they still hadn't lost the attention of the crowd. Still, he couldn't show any signs of being impatient, for that would only increase his risk of blundering.
"He gives you tasks like this all the time?" Beam said neutrally, not giving away that he had no idea what the task was.
Greeves seized on that. "That the little fuck does! I gave him tribute three years ago, declaring myself his loyal servant and all the other rubbish – just what was expected of me. And the snotty brat took me seriously. He gave me a noble's seal to assist my business endeavours – that was nice – but alongside it he's been calling in favour after favour. See to it that all the villagers have enough firewood for the winter – that was one. Like, how the fuck's that my problem? Another was dealing with a hoard of Goblins on the road – yeah, like I want to spend the coin on dealing with that… And then this latest one."