Emmaline wondered if the scam would still work if Otto burst a blood vessel and died of apoplexy right here. She supposed it would, but it might be a different matter if a noble wound up dead than if he lost a few thousand marks to a con artist. The wagons were slowing now as the horses began to hall them up the stepper incline. The pace was still slow to allow the foot troops to keep up, but even the guards were leaning into their kit.

"We won't find any silver right away boy," Otto declared loftily, "We will process tin ore for the residual silver." The nobles voice was smug and superior for all he was parroting nonsense that ALbrecht had poured into his head. If Neil knew anything about metallurgy he would know that tin and silver were often found together, but that the concentration of the latter was usually quite low.

"It must be so exciting working at the gunnery school," Emmaline broke in, her voice breathless with injected excitement. 

"All those big long cannons, and big bangs!" she continued, ignoring the fact that Otto's face had frozen into a rictus of embarrassment.

"Just imagine all that heavy iron," she continued. Nothing in her voice was improper, but anyone looking for it might taste the slight hint of innuendo she applied. Otto clearly did because his face was beginning to darken dangerously.