by John Booth
Gally frowned. “From what I remember of the other nobles here, they would not tolerate that, if they were ever to catch him.”
“Quite right, my dear. He may be the Keeper, but no one in polite society would seek out his company if he were caught cheating. I have even been tempted to let out the word myself, but if he traced it back to me, he would slit my throat in a second. Be careful that you too are discrete, Gally. He would kill you without thought of the consequences.”
“I have no wish to disgrace the Keeper of Wegnar. Father would be most displeased after all the trouble he went to in making you Tib’s wife. Speaking of father, he has sent me the most disagreeable letter.”
“Are they not always like way? But that can wait for later, sister. I have need of you in my bedroom. There will be plenty of time to talk about father’s demands anon. After all, you will not be leaving Wegnar tonight or tomorrow.”
“If you insist,” Gally said irritably. However, a certain gleam in her eye suggested that she was not truly averse to the diversions her sister had in mind.
Jalia was led by the Keeper into a small room with a high ceiling. Plasterwork decorated the walls, the predominant theme being naked women with big breasts. When she glanced up at the painted ceiling, Jalia was not in the least surprised to see an orgy depicted in full vibrant colors. The painter of the scene had been highly skilled, but was prone to exaggeration of the male form, unless the men in the north were much better endowed than those in the south.
In the middle of the room stood a small circular table covered in a white silk tablecloth. There were four chairs positioned around the table, three of them already occupied by men of wealth. Wealth sometimes keeps its light under a bushel in Jalon, with rich men often choosing to wear peasant style clothing, but not in this particular town. These men, like the Keeper himself, wanted the world and his dog to see just how wealthy they were.
There were four piles of gold coins and smaller currency down to Eighths on the table. A hand of cards had been dealt and the other men waited somewhat irritably for the Keeper to return to his chair.
The Keeper’s guards took up positions behind him when he sat. Leaning against the wall, they never took their eyes off of Jalia, nor sheathed their swords.
As soon as the Keeper was sitting, one of the servants poised near the walls rushed over to fill the half empty wine glass waiting for him on the table.
“Are we playing cards, or should I go upstairs and show one of the girls a good time?” the bearded man at the table complained. He was dressed entirely in dark purple silk that didn’t suit him in the slightest.
“Perhaps you should, Trel,” the Keeper replied thoughtfully. “I have brought a new player to join us at the table and she is both rich and foolish enough to wish to play cards against us. She apparently wishes to remain anonymous while she is in Wegnar and has asked me to tell you her name is Jalia al’Dare.”
There was a wave of laughter across the table as the men appreciated the joke.
“Are you serious, Tib? You have asked this woman to join the game?” Trel asked. He threw down his hand with the cards showing. That effectively ended the round as seeing his cards changed the odds.
The other men murmured in anger as Trel picked up his money and stormed from the room leaving his chair vacant. Jalia sat and collected everybody’s cards. Her expert shuffling convincing the men in a way no words would have done that she was entirely serious about the game.
“As the Keeper has just said, my name is Jalia. Would you gentlemen care to introduce yourselves?”
“Can I be Daniel al’Degar?” the man on Jalia’s right asked. He was a handsome young man in his twenties with a smile on his face that was entirely devoid of malice.
“I’d rather you didn’t, as I already have one of those,” Jalia replied, smiling back equally warmly.
“Very well,” the man said. “I am Kend Saltar and the illustrious gentleman on your left is Mik Dalon. Directly across from you is the most noble Tib Prentice, hereditary Keeper of the Five Gem Coin and ruler of Wegnar.”
Jalia placed her purse on the table and tipped its contents out. Her pile of gold coins was equal to the largest on the table.
“What’s a Five Gem Coin when it’s at home?” Jalia asked as she let Kend cut the cards before she started to deal.
“It is a gold coin about one and a half inches in diameter and an eighth of an inch thick. It has five small rubies cut in the shape of stars inset in the form of a circle about a quarter of an inch from its outer edge,” Kend explained.
“That sounds nice, but six of my gold coins could buy such a thing from the nearest jeweler,” Jalia pointed out.
“Not like this one. The rubies in it glow red through night and day,” Mik said with a little awe creeping into his voice.
“Useful in the dark, I suppose. On the other hand, such a thing is not all that much use if you own a candle,” Jalia said.
“It’s from the age of the Magician Kings and it is great magic,” Tib told her irritably. “So much so that the vaults in which it is kept are surrounded by a ring of stones that chime a warning if a weapon crosses them and according to ancient stories, they would kill a Fairie stone cold dead. Legend says that disaster will befall Wegnar and its Keeper if the coin is stolen.”
“That’s the entire story. Nobody knows what else the coin can do, but it is important to the people of Wegnar. There are public viewings in the vaults every day at noon, so you can go and see it for yourself tomorrow. Now, CAN WE JUST PLAY CARDS?”
The players hunkered down and quickly got in to the rhythm of the game. All games ebb and flow and none more so than Fade, where exploiting a strong hand is essential unless you want to go home with an empty purse. Jalia was a natural at fade and began to assess the other players. Kend and Mik were solidly good players. They never risked a spectacular gain or loss, but always played the odds like professionals.
Tib Prentice, on the other hand, was impossible to gauge. He seemed to lack the ability to keep track of the odds and yet he gained money as the night progressed. He seemed to have an endless case of beginners luck, pulling himself out of poor situations with the flip of a card.
Jalia had seen almost all forms of cheating, but Tib didn’t follow those patterns. After four hours of play, she finally worked out what was going on. Tib was cheating with a superb physical technique, but with a poor understanding of the game. Had he understood the game better he could have won much more, but then the pattern of his cheating would have been obvious to anyone schooled in the subject.
Once she worked out what was going on, it was easy for Jalia to spot the subtle hand moments when Tib palmed a card. The fact that those were usually the wrong moments was no longer a problem. The question on Jalia’s mind was; what she was going to do about it?
Jalia was still ahead in the game, though only marginally. Kend and Mik were well down, though not disastrously so. It appeared that the men were used to losing to Tib, but had become skilled at limiting their losses. The sensible thing for Jalia to do was to walk away and say nothing. However, Jalia had never been known to be sensible in such situations.
Tib was getting increasingly frustrated at his inability to take Jalia’s money and was making wilder and wilder bids in an attempt to get her to put a significant stake on any of his winning hands. Jalia smiled and folded her hand at the beginning of every attempt, losing mere pennies in the process.
“You don’t want to seem to want to take this game seriously,” Tib complained after taking yet another winning hand that yielded him next to nothing.
“How about one hand between the two of us, winner takes all?” Jalia suggested. She had deduced that he had two kings up his sleeve and that opened up a possibility to her devious mind. It would require her to cheat during the hand, but cheating a cheat seemed perfectly respectable behavior to Jalia.
The tension rose higher in the room. Kend and Mik sat back to watch the tussle of wills between Jalia
and Tib.
“Four cards each, standard rules, everything in the pot,” Jalia offered. That was a massive amount of money. Some might say a king’s ransom. It was certainly not an amount of money that Tib could dismiss as pocket money. Losing it would cost him dearly.
“With you dealing the cards, I suppose?” Tib sneered. He was hoping that Jalia would back off from the challenge. Sweat began to form on Tib’s brow.
“I shuffle the pack, you cut the deck, Kend will deal the cards.”
That was a fair offer. Tib believed that cheating was impossible if separate people shuffled, cut the cards, and dealt.
He was torn with indecision. A large amount of money was at stake and so was his reputation. If he refused Jalia’s offer, word would spread around town about his lack of nerve. He only had a guaranteed two kings up his sleeve. Jalia could win everything with a hand as small as three twos.
“I accept,” Tib replied, trying to keep any tremble out of his voice. Sweat began to pool at the bottom on his back and his heart beat as fast as if he had just been running.
Jalia shuffled the pack so that the dealer would deal two kings and two queens to Tib and four aces to her. Then, she split the pack in half with one hand, bending the top half of the deck a little before putting the pack back together. Anyone casually cutting the deck would put the cards she wanted back on the top. A card player experienced with such trickery would never fall for it, but these men lacked the necessary experience.
Jalia looked straight at Kend’s face as Tib cut the pack, acting totally unconcerned. If the cards were cut in the wrong place, there was nothing she could do about it.
Kend dealt the cards out so they didn’t touch. Four cards in front of Jalia and another four in front of Tib.
Jalia lifted the edge of the first of her cards and confirmed it was an ace. She relaxed in the knowledge that her scheme had worked.
Tib picked up his own cards and could not believe his luck. Two kings and two queens would have been a good hand in any circumstances; however, a quick shake of his wrist changed the hand to a virtually unbeatable four kings. He wiped the sweat from his face in relief.
“I win,” he said, turning over his cards to a collective gasp from Kend, Mik and the servants. Tib reached to scoop away the money.
“No you are wrong, I win,” Jalia said softly. “I have four aces in my hand.”
“You haven’t even looked at your cards,” Tib blurted in a mix of outrage and fear. Looking into Jalia’s deep blue eyes he was certain that she had the cards she claimed and that she knew he had been cheating.
“Turn my cards over Kend,” Jalia commanded. The tension in the room reached fever pitch as the guards behind Tib moved to take up fighting stances.
Kend reached over the table and turned Jalia’s four cards over, one by one. Each was an ace.
“You cheated,” Tib shouted in outrage.
“Yes I cheated,” Jalia agreed. “I dealt you two queens and two kings, having seen you hide the other two kings up your sleeve earlier in the game. When the game you are playing is crooked, you have no choice but to cheat to win.”
“Seize her,” Tib said in desperation. His reputation would be in ruins unless he could distract Kend and Mik for long enough to get rid of the cards up his sleeve. The guards moved forward, but stopped as Kend and Mic drew their swords. Jalia remained calmly seated at the table. She had seen such drama’s play out before.
“Show us your sleeves,” Kend demanded, his usually cheerful face now looked hard and bleak.
“You can’t possibly believe this stranger over me.”
“His left sleeve, if you really want to know,” Jalia said infuriatingly calmly. Tib wanted to strangle her at that moment. Only the threat of the swords pointing at him stayed his hand.
“All right, all right,” Tib said, as he decided to try another approach. “Yes, I do have those cards up my sleeve, but it was only a joke. I was going to give you the money back after the game was over.”
“My pot I believe,” Jalia said in a pleased tone of voice. She started to scoop up the money when she felt two swords pressed against her back.
“House rules,” Kend told her, almost apologetically. “All money played by cheats is retained by the club and you cheated as well as our beloved Keeper.”
“That’s hardly fair,” Jalia said angrily.
Kend and Mik nodded their heads in agreement, but their swords still pricked firmly into her back.
Jalia knew defeat when she saw it and allowed the men to escort her out of the club. As she watched the door close on her winnings and the money she had brought to the table, she shouted loudly at the men.
“This isn’t over. I always win in the end.”
Kend stopped closing the door and offered her some advice.
“You have made a mortal enemy out of the Keeper of Wegnar. We aren’t going to forget his cheating tonight and you have destroyed his social standing in the town he thinks he owns. Be satisfied with that and leave as quickly as you can. He will certainly try to have you killed.”
Kend closed the door on her.
Cara giggled and flopped exhausted onto the floor of the barn.
“You are the best, Daniel al’Degar. I would never have believed that any man could teach me something new,” she said in delight, rolling onto her side to stare at him.
“Glad to be of some small service.” Daniel replied. He lay exhausted against bales of hay. “Do you think you will get a chance to use this new skill in the future?”
“When the time comes, I truly expect I will. Thank you sweet Daniel,” Cara moved closer to Daniel and kissed him on the cheek.
“Then let us put out these lanterns and get back to the Steam Dragon. Jalia may have won all the townsfolk’s money by now and be on her way back.”
“I suppose you have taught this to Jalia as well,” Cara asked.
“You could say that, Cara. You certainly could.”
8. Revenge
Tonas and the Denger brothers sat at their usual table for breakfast. Apart from the small form of Rolf Wanor cleaning the tables, the dining room was empty. Wilf and Tred were anxious to know what was in the message that Tonas received the previous day. It was written in a code that Hadon had created and Tonas had promised to decode it for them overnight.
“Well?” Wilf asked impatiently. He had trimmed his beard almost to stubble that morning and looked younger and meaner as a result.
“Can I not even break my bread before I tell you?” Tonas asked. He enjoyed the power that came with his father’s position and deeply regretted that he only had the Denger brothers to lord it over.
Tred frowned severely and Tonas decided he had pushed the men far enough.
“It was from my father’s alternate buyer in Slarn. That person informs me that we have friends onboard who will assist us when the time is right. Obviously the contact thinks that my father is still alive and some of the message was incomprehensible as it relied on his personal knowledge.”
“We might understand it, if you read it to us,” Wilf offered.
“Unless you were privy to my father’s bedroom secrets I would doubt that very much,” Tonas replied, his face reddening at the thought of the things he had read. “The message suggests that all three royal families may take a hand.”
“Just what we need,” Tred offered gloomily. “Three sets of Slarn royalty fighting over the swords. I should have stuck to selling horses. I understood the horse trade.”
“I cannot change the words on the parchment just because you do not like what they say, my lord,” Jant spat out angrily. He and Dor had been locked in this argument since the previous evening and had made no progress. Nothing could change until they either received another message from Gilan or reached Slarn where Dor could argue it out with his father in person. Mal sat listening to the two men shout at each other in amused silence while he honed the edge of his knife to razor sharpness.
“He wants me to give up the f
ight and let Gally Sorn give the swords to the house of Tallis. We don’t even know which Tallis brother she means to give them too. It could even be Maximus,” Dor said angrily. It was the same point he had been making last night.
“With respect, my lord, what your father has ordered is that you take no unnecessary risks. He believes that the swords are not worth your life, which they are not,” Jant explained in exasperation.
“It doesn’t say ‘no unnecessary risks’ in the letter, it says ‘take no risks at all’,” Dor pointed out. “It also says; ‘Don’t leave the boat at Wegnar, don’t leave the boat at Bretin, don’t go anywhere near Gally Sorn, don’t trust anyone but you two’. The only thing that surprises me is that my dear father doesn’t send me instructions on when to breathe in and out.”
“You know what happened to Jared,” Jant pointed out. “He was most certainly murdered by the Sorn’s”
“Fifteen years ago, Jant. We cannot be afraid to act simply because the Sorn’s killed one of us in the past.”
“He was your brother and the heir.”
“I was a child when he died and father still has Petric regardless of what happens to me. Petric has three children and two of them are boys, so the line of succession is safe.”
“Perhaps your father is concerned for you,” Jant offered. Dor snorted at the idea. His father had been treating him like an idiot his whole life. It was hardly likely he cared what happened to him.
“I will not allow Gally Sorn to give the swords to the house of Tallis. I would sooner die,” Dor said quietly.
“As my lord wishes.” Jant gave up on the argument. Mal looked up and gave Jant a reassuring smile.
Captain Gil Toren, First Mate Seb Halder and Bosun Hal Patin sat at a table on the bridge. A number of letters lay scattered across the table.
“I still cannot believe that any of the Triums would dare to attack the Boat Company,” Hal said for the eighth time.
“The worse thing is we don’t know which one of them did it,” Seb threw in.