Leon

I can let you through if you would pay some small tolls, eight shillings of gold, sir."" "Eight shillings! I'm not that meek! Boys make an honest five at the blacksmith's for a week!- "Sir, it is a small price to pay. It is obviously an important journey for you. We don't have to let you through,"" The red-haired boy tried. Lysander grabbed the ends of his air, "Now you're rhyming, too! I'll go crazy, do stop!- "Keep calm, I need this money for the hat shop,"" the red-haired child winked. "Ya know I heard of these road-side villains. Sleepin' their dirty selves on the side of traffic and wakin' up to rip off the head of an old man."" "Then be grateful your head has been spared, sir,"" Lysander grinned. His grin was broad and boyish; something about it just made the old miser want to smile, too. "Alright, youngins, ten shillings it is."" He reached into his pocket for some coins, spinning them across the air to the boys. The coins each flipped several times. Lysander and the red-haired boy were amused as they tried to count the flips: one two three four five six seven eight nine ten. "Ten flips for ten shilling,"" the old man smirked. Lysander and the red-haired boy caught the coins and dived out of the way as the chariot passed by. "What a score!- the red-haired boy's feet were dancing as he felt the five shillings in his hand, "I can't believe he forgot we only asked for eight!- Lysander smiled, "I don't think he forgot. Ah'm purty sure he knew all the time."" And he walked off through the forest. Which way was the way to town? Lysander dreamed of what he was going to buy. He heard they had some mighty fine boomerangs for only three shillings. But Lysander would soon be too old for silly games like that. He wasn't sure of his age, but he figured he'd be up to eighteen years pretty soon. Maybe he ought to save his money for a fancy suit, so he could go into town and get a real job.