by Aaron Crash
That made Jenny roll her eyes. “Well, Lillee, we all can’t be as smart as you, now can we?”
“Or as hot,” the elf girl said mischievously. “Why haven’t we had another dinner at your place? Ymir and I talk about that night. We talk about you.”
Jenny shook her head. “No, we have to focus. If I start thinking about that night, I’d have to go to my room for a little alone time. Nope. Gotta focus.”
“We do.” Ymir hustled the women out of the citadel and down the steps to the Sea Stair Market. Sunfire torches flickered their magical light on the rain-damp stone. Water trickled down gutters on either side of the steps. A thick fog covered the place. Muted lights glowed in the damp, and though it wasn’t raining at the moment, it felt like they were swimming through the thick fog. Woodsmoke and the scent of cooked meat, along with the pungent sting of liquor, filled the air around them.
Ymir went to the Unicorn’s Uht and pushed open the door. The tavern was packed with students from all the classes, drinking, eating, laughing, and, in some cases, singing. That made Lillee smile, and she sang harmony under their caterwauls. A few of the patrons smoked rolled kharo, so a sweet haze clung to the ceiling.
The barbarian went first, with the women trailing him.
On the left was a long counter where people stood, being served by several women with red faces, glowing with sweat. The women weren’t scholars, but older, one of them wrinkled and ancient. A stained glass window showed the unicorn on the sign out front chasing after a collection of mares with coquettish smiles painted on their equine lips. Underneath the window, barrels of all shapes and sizes were stacked. The barrels were kept in place by stone, shaped to hold them. Ymir bet Form magic was involved in the construction, and maybe the window had been built by the earth sorcery as well.
Through a trap door in the ceiling, plates of food were lowered, and the women bartenders brought them to the counter where they were collected by hungry scholars. The kitchens had to be above. He couldn’t be sure, since the whole place was so hot and loud. A fireplace popped and cracked in a stone hearth built into the northern wall.
To the right were tables and more private booths, all full of chattering scholars, mostly human, mostly women.
Ymir pushed through to more tables near the back where groups of scholars had piles of shecks stacked in front of them. Seven cards from the river deck lay in the middle of the copper coins.
At one table, three upperclassmen, a rich boy and two girls, played with silver, and Ymir approached them. All were from the Sorrow Coast Kingdom, judging by the embroidered crests on their velvet shirts under their school robes: tridents, fish, and a single sailboat riding a wave.
Ymir caught the man’s eye, a brown-haired man with a soft jawline, which he tried to define with a sparse beard. “You have three players, but I’d like to try my hand at this game. Would you mind?”
One of the women, a big girl with a big chest and wide hips, laughed loudly. “It’s the barbarian with magic! Promise me you won’t cut my head off if you lose.” She pointed at the hatchet sheathed on his belt.
He smiled indulgently “I can’t ever tell what I’ll do if I lose. It happens so infrequently.”
That made them laugh, all three, the soft-faced man, his soft-bellied friend, and a thin woman with a hooked nose who could cuss and wasn’t afraid to tell a dirty joke.
Ymir sat. With no spare chairs, Jenny and Lillee stood behind him. The clansman watched the faces of his opponents as the cards were dealt. Most were numbered, two through ten, before the royalty started: duke, queen, king, and vempor. The vempor card could be a fourteen or a one, depending on the game. That gave the river deck a total of fifty-two cards. There were three other cards to give them fifty-five: a heaven card, a hell card, and the tree card. Some people preferred not to play with the extra three cards, but most did.
The thirteen cards were divided into four suits based on the elements that matched the four branches of magic: fire for Sunfire, ice for Flow, wind for Moons, and mud for Form. It wasn’t so much different than stone, stick, moss, and mud.
The game of Seven Devils started with everyone throwing in a sheck for the lake, also known as the pot. Each player would get three cards, which they kept hidden in front of them. That was called their riverbank. The first round of betting started. Money was thrown in the lake, which the winner would take.
During the flop round of Seven Devils, three cards from the deck were laid out on top of the table. Another round of betting. Then the demonspit round, and another card was dealt faceup. More betting. Then the damnation round, the last card, and the last bets.
Players had to turn over their boatman card, one of their three riverbank cards, in one of those three rounds. That was an interesting mechanic, depending on what was shown. Oftentimes, the boatman was one of the three special cards, which affected the game in interesting ways. With five cards showing in the lake, and two cards hidden in front of each player, the winner had the best hand of five cards out of seven, matching either number, or suit, or creating a run of five cards in order. The best hand was the magical royal run, ten through vempor, of the same suit.
In Seven Devils, the hell card gave you an instant victory, and everyone had to match the pot and pay you immediately. The heaven card allowed you a bit of redemption, and you could ask for a redraw during the flop round, either new cards for you, or three new cards, faceup on the table. The heaven card could also block the hell card. The tree card could be used to either get another card, a ninth card, or to reverse the heaven and hell cards.
If any of the three divine cards—hell, heaven, or tree—showed, faceup, in the flop, demonspit, or damnation round, they weren’t in play and couldn’t be used. However, with only four active cards showing in the middle, players wouldn’t have to turn their boatman card over. In that way, the players still had seven cards to make their best hand of five.
It was a complicated game of strategy and luck, and Ymir had been practicing with anyone who would play. He planned on buying his own river deck since he had to rely on Jenny for hers.
He played a couple of hands with the three upperclassmen, learning how to read them. He lost on purpose, several times, to gauge their reaction.
Ymir quickly saw that the round, happy girl couldn’t stop her eyes from shining when she got paired cards in her riverbank. The soft-faced man did better, except when he tried to bluff. He’d get quiet, unnaturally quiet, as if praying. The dirty-joke woman was harder to unravel, and so Ymir would drop out to let her win.
He could beat the other two, and he did. Jenny and Lillee pulled up chairs to watch him. Both kept quiet. Ymir had made the mistake of showing his emotions to his battle brothers during their time playing stone, stick, moss, and mud, and so he learned to control himself.
Ymir’s pile of silver shecks grew. Gambling was tolerated at the Sea Stair taverns, though you couldn’t play with gold or platinum, only coppers and silvers. Already, though, Ymir had several gold shecks’ worth of silver. He considered upping the bet to get more, but he worked it slowly. The money was fine, but he had other stakes in mind. The upperclassmen were nice enough, kind even, and he wasn’t about to trick them into anything. He could wait.
When the soft-faced man and the big girl were out of money, they left. And who took their place? Darisbeau Cujan and Odd the Smirk. The viscount, Roger Knellnapp, stood behind them, watching.
Daris and Odd laid their shecks on the table. “You don’t mind if we play, do you?” the swamp rat asked brusquely.
“Don’t worry,” Ymir said. “You’ve stayed away from me, so you won’t get another punch in the nose. And I didn’t hack off anyone’s head last time I lost.”
“You didn’t,” the hook-nosed woman agreed. “But aren’t you clansmen erratic?”
“Wild and savage,” he agreed.
Odd the Smirk smirked. “Like your magic today. Nice job.”
Ymir didn’t give that comment a single thought. Thes
e were the men he would trick, and he had to be focused and careful.
The hook-nosed woman, Charlotte, or Charlotte the Harlot—at least that’s what she called herself—won the first three hands. Ymir had fairly good cards, a pair of tens one time, a fire vempor and an ice king in another. He pretended to get confused on when he should turn up his boatman’s card, and he played a tree card early, forcing a redraw on the flop round.
Daris joined Odd in smirking. Good. He was luring them in while not losing too much silver in the process.
Jenny bought him and Lillee some thick, bitter beer, which he drank in one gulp, pretending to weave a little. If he could convince them he was both stupid and drunk, all the better.
He waited until he got a very good riverbank draw. A pair of vempors, fire and wind, and the tree card. Despite the power of his riverbank, he didn’t bet big. He kept calm, in perfect control of himself.
When Charlotte laid down the three flop cards, he saw his chance. All were mud cards, a ten, a duke, and a vempor. So someone could have a run, five cards in a row of different suits, or they could have a magic five, which were five cards of the same suit. Another possibility was the royal magic run, ten through vempor, of the same suit, the very best hand. A royal magic run would beat him if he managed to get all four vempors.
That wasn’t likely. He hoped no one had the hell card or the game might end at any minute.
Daris bet high, and Odd raised him. Money began to pile up on the table. No one had turned over their boatman card, which was normal. People generally only showed their boatman card during the last damnation round. That was also when they might turn up their hell card, though you had to be careful. If you played the hell card after raising the pot time after time, and then walked away with a win, you might find yourself dead. There was a certain etiquette to playing the hell card.
The demonspit card added to the intensity of the game. An eight of mud. There were four mud cards faceup in the lake: an eight, a ten, a duke, and a vempor.
Ymir pretended to be confused. “A run is four cards in a row but different suits?”
“Five.” Daris didn’t look at him. The Cujan asshole turned his boatman card, a two of ice, and then bet high.
Again, Odd raised him after he turned his boatman card up, the heaven card. “I’d like another card. Not that I need it.”
Ymir flipped up his tree. “No, no more cards for you. I think I can block you with the tree.”
“The Tree of Life.” Charlotte the Harlot chuckled. “You know, I’ve heard the priests in Four Roads have fake phalluses supposedly carved from the tree. Not for me. I’d worry about splinters, no matter how old that wood is.”
Lillee tsked from behind him. With her cuff on, she didn’t appreciate dirty jokes much.
Odd sniggered. “Okay, no more cards for me. Your bet, Ymir.”
The clansman made a show of looking at his riverbank cards. He frowned. He then matched the bet.
Charlotte sighed. “Fuck me with a Tree of Life phallus, but I’m out. I was going to see if the damnation card would help me. I’m not stupid, though. You all must have a magic five if not a royal magic run.” She tossed her riverbank cards, facedown, into the lake.
She dealt the damnation card, and it was a very interesting vempor of ice.
Now a magical five, five cards of the same suit, was almost certain for the three remining players. Ymir had one, though he would put his faith in his four vempors. He’d beat everything except if someone had the royal magic run. That wasn’t likely, though it wasn’t impossible. No one had the hell card, or they would’ve been forced to play it.
Daris pushed all his silver in. Odd matched it and added a gold sheck. “You won’t tell anyone if we have gold on the table, I take it. Charlotte here won’t. I wouldn’t expect a barbarian to follow the rules.”
“Not if I can break them.” Ymir pushed his silver in. “Can I get a gold sheck, Jenny? I’ll pay you back.”
The Swamp Coast woman laughed, dug into a pocket, and gave him a handful of coins. “You don’t have the money, but I can collect in other ways. And since you wanna bet, why not bet high? I’ll give you five.”
Daris and Odd glanced at each other. Both couldn’t match his bet.
Ymir saw it. “You might not have the money on you. I understand that. How about this? How about if I win this hand, one of you will take over my work study for the rest of the school year?”
Daris didn’t look at his cards, though he ran a hand through his hair. He was bluffing, and too far in to back off. Odd might have the winning hand. Probably did. He jumped at the chance.
“I won’t do it until the end of the year,” Odd said. “I will do it until winter solstice break. That’s worth more than four gold shecks, though.” He paused. “If I win, I get to punch you in the face. Not a fight, mind you. I just want to break your fucking nose.”
“That’s a deal I can take.” Ymir nodded at Daris. “And how about you take over work study for Lillee? Both of you can do the cleaning together.” The clansman was glad Roger the Viscount wasn’t playing. The man didn’t have the money to buy himself into Old Ironbound. Roger already had work study but not cleaning with Gurla.
Daris lifted his two riverbank cards. Did he have something after all?
“Those cards ain’t gonna change, asshole,” Jenny spat from above Ymir’s shoulder. “Do you take the bet or not?”
Daris lowered his cards and gave Jenny a smirk. “Sure, if I lose, I clean up after all them assholes until winter solstice break. Again, though, that’s worth a lot more than four golds. How about if I win, I’d get a night with you, Jenny?”
“Never,” Ymir said forcefully enough.
The Cujan rat lifted a hand. “Easy there, barbarian. The Josentown slut can’t sleep with me. She’s shopping for a husband for her sister. And she can’t sully herself. Then again, if she took me into the Josentown Queendom, we could combine our territories. What do you say, Jennybelle Josen?”
The swamp woman’s response was immediate. “You should take one of Charlotte’s phalluses and shove it straight up your ass.”
The swamp man laughed. “Like I thought. You know, Ymir, with them two, it would seem you got yourself a harem going. But you haven’t tasted Jenny now, have you?” He answered his own question. “No, she’s saving you for sister. How about this? If I win, you quit the school. Then you can go down to the Swamp Coast and fuck Arribelle Josen until she can’t see. But like Odd, I also want to punch you in the face. How about that?”
Ymir stared into Daris’s face. “Seems like two bets, but I’ll take them both. I call.”
The swamp man turned over his riverbank. He had a queen-high magic five not counting the vempor of mud. His other queen didn’t help much, but that was why he’d stayed in so long.
Odd went next. “Sorry, Daris, but it might be work study for you. I got the vempor-high magic five like we all do, but my next highest card is a king.” He’d also paired up—two kings. He’d tried to use his heaven card to get the queen of mud, but Daris already had it.
The smirking man wasn’t sneering. A bright smile curved his lips.
“Good hand, Odd,” Daris said. “But did you beat the barbarian? I hope so, or you and I are fucked.”
“He might’s have,” Ymir said. “I have just a pair.”
Odd smirked. Daris, though, wasn’t tricked. He swallowed hard.
The clansman turned over the winning hand. “A pair of vempors. Wait. I think that’s two pair. Does two pair beat a vempor-high magic five?”
The two other men didn’t laugh at the joke.
Ymir and Lillee were free.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A WEEK LATER, YMIR was on his way to the Moons Tower to talk to Siteev Ckins about his Introduction to Languages class. Or that was what he told her when he requested the conference. Really, he wanted to ask her about the ancient Homme word that may or not be sky. They had another three weeks before two full moons would sha
re the heavens, the night after the First Exams ended. If they needed all three moons, the spell might not work. And if Ymir failed the First Exam, his life at the Majestrial Collegium Universitas would be over.
A cold wind blew rain onto his new robes, which were surprisingly waterproof. That was probably Forms magic, or maybe Moons. Moons allowed mages to imbue items with sorcery. The very idea still made him uneasy. The visions weren’t so bad, but he was floating nearly every night. Thank the Shieldmaiden that Lillee slept in his bed. She would ease him down so when he woke up, he didn’t yell and fall. Just another benefit of having the elf girl around.
Both were enjoying their new schedule, free from work study.
Gurla, the Janistra Dux, took some convincing; she hadn’t been happy to have two new recruits. Ymir, Lillee, Daris Cujan, and Odd the Smirk had met with her to explain that the two men were taking over the work study until the end of the semester. The excuse was laughable. Daris swore that he and Odd felt bad for treating Ymir so poorly the first weeks of class. As for Lillee, Odd thought the Ohlyrran princess shouldn’t have to work. They claimed their deep faith in the Tree of Life drove them to help the pair.
Gurla had growled at them and said if there was any trouble, she’d grab Ymir out of his cell, beat him soundly, and then tell the Princept there was some kind of funny business going on.
Ymir would’ve liked to see the orc janistra try to beat him. His Classic Warfare teacher, Korga, had learned to respect the clansman’s skills. Gurla wouldn’t stand a chance.
It wouldn’t come to that. The Princept would never need to know.
That bought Ymir some time to figure out another way of getting him and Lillee out of work study for the second semester. If he could get the money together, he could simply pay for him and Lillee to go to Old Ironbound. Then Gurla could find two other wretches to sweep the stones and do all the other work.
He considered asking Jenny for a loan. Hell, he could say he would marry her sister if she paid, and she would, though Ymir would have to lie. Deception wasn’t unknown in the Black Wolf Clan, but it was frowned upon, especially among the clan itself. Truth was vital when it came to surviving on the tundra. Families had to trust each other. Lying made that impossible.