by T. A. White
Could Eamon be right? Could she bear some responsibility for the loss of life because of her inability to communicate?
Shea shook her head. Eamon was full of it. She’d given them her informed opinion. If they ignored it because she was a woman and an outsider, there was nothing she could do about that.
Shea kept as far from Eamon and the rest of the scouts for the rest of the morning. Anytime it looked like someone was about to engage her, she went out of her way to avoid them. She was successful in her endeavors until they stopped for the evening.
Once they’d stopped, Shea didn’t know what to do with herself. The men worked as a team and whenever she tried to help she just seemed to get in the way. She’d gotten used to the responsibilities with Eamon and the others, but this was a different dynamic, and she didn’t automatically know her duties.
She drifted toward a group, containing Clark, playing a card game. She watched quietly for a while, trying to pick up the rules. It was difficult. It seemed random to her, lacking any sort of logic. They each held a set of cards with odd drawings on them. Every now and then one would pick up a pair of dice and roll them and then play a card.
“Would you like to play, Daisy?” a woman with a large scar bisecting her jawline asked. Her smile was cunning as she glanced up at her before picking up the dice and rolling.
“I don’t know the rules,” Shea said.
There was a look between the players.
“That’s okay; we’ll teach you.” This was said by a man not much older than Clark.
Clark coughed into his hand. Shea’s eyes narrowed on him. That cough had sounded very like a laugh.
“I think I’ll just watch,” she said.
She didn’t know what they were planning, but she had no intention of being the gullible newbie.
“It’s impossible to learn Bones and Cards by just watching,” a deep voice said beside her.
Shea jumped, her heart surging into her throat at the unexpected words. Fallon watched her quietly before his gaze shifted to the players as they sprung to their feet.
“Please. Sit. Continue your game.”
The game slowly resumed as Fallon lingered by Shea.
She wondered if it would arouse suspicion if she made an excuse and walked away.
“The point of the game is to gather the most points before the deck runs out,” Fallon told her.
Shea’s eyebrows rose slightly at the statement, and she nodded wordlessly.
What would be a good excuse? It had to be important enough to call her from his company but not enough to arouse his interest.
“Points are anything that have a bone on them. The dice tells you which set of cards hold ascension for each turn. It’s a game of strategy more than anything.”
“Sounds like it’s based more on luck than anything else,” Shea observed.
She fought against a wince. Why did she have to engage? What did she care what kind of game it was? She was trying to find a reason to politely leave.
Fallon chuckled, not offended at her disagreement. “I can see how it would appear so to an observer. Do you have another set I can use to show my friend the game?”
The woman with the scar nodded and reached behind her into a pack, withdrawing a set of beat up old cards and an equally dinged up set of dice.
“Oh no, that’s not necessary. I’ve never been very good at games.”
“Nonsense. It’ll be fun, and if you run with this group for very long, it’s practically a prerequisite that you learn if you want to fit in.”
That’s just it. Shea didn’t care if she fit in and didn’t intend to stick around for very long.
“Come.” Fallon found a place for them to comfortably sit. “Normally, you play this with four people, but it can be played with just two. There are seven types of cards. Warlord, scout, adviser, soldier, assassin, healer, and bone. Each type can do different things. Each role of the dice tells you how strong an action is for your turn and the possible reward. Traditionally, we used bones for the bet and to keep track of points. Now, they use rocks to represent camp chores.”
The cards blurred in his hands as he began to shuffle. Shea was already confused by the rules. It hadn’t been a lie when she said she wasn’t good at games like these.
“We each start with seven cards.” He dealt the cards to Shea and himself. He also upended a bag of colored marbles and parceled out 5 blue ones for each of them, 3 red ones and 2 yellow ones. “We’ll play the first few rounds face up so that I can explain what each move and card means.”
Shea found herself interested in spite of herself as he explained what each card meant and how each round was played. He was patient as he reminded her several times that the scout could not also take on the warlord’s role and that the healer could not kill the assassin.
She frowned down at her cards when he rolled a three. The number utterly destroyed her hand. She had several options left but strongly suspected that Fallon held the warlord and adviser, two cards that when paired were some of the strongest in the deck. The three would limit the actions he could take but not enough. She could pair her healer with her assassin or use the scout to supplement the assassin but the damage done to his cards might not be enough.
Hmm.
There might be one way. It was risky though and would mean rolling over and letting him win unobstructed until the right moment. If she won the game, it would be by the skin of her teeth and if her gamble failed she’d lose by a landslide.
She’d have to be sneaky to keep him from suspecting.
She peeked over at him, allowing a brief glimpse of worry to appear on her face. He regarded her with the same impenetrable expression he’d had the entire game.
She played her two weakest cards before picking up two more from the deck to replace them. He countered with stronger cards, winning the hand. The next several hands were more of the same.
Fallon regarded the bent head before him. He’d thought the boy would be more of a challenge. Granted, it was the first time he’d played Bones and Cards.
The game was a good chance to see how another person’s mind worked. Were they an aggressive player? Rash or cautious? Fallon hoped to learn something of this unknown entity with the game. So far, all he’d learned was that the boy couldn’t bluff worth a damn. Every expression was written on his face, letting Fallon know as clear as day what was in his hand.
His interest in the game and the boy waned with every turn.
Not paying particular attention, he laid down a scout and advisor. The boy’s face reflected pleased surprise, and he reached to clear the cards.
Surprised he’d lost that one, Fallon leaned forward. Oh well, guess he’d let his mind wander. They reached the end of their personal decks and shuffled, drawing seven more cards into their hand.
Fallon took the next hand but lost the two after that. Each time the boy seemed pleasantly surprised, and Fallon chalked it up to beginner’s luck.
When he lost his warlord on what should have been a sure win, he started paying more attention. He was surprised to see the boy’s chips had grown to a respectable size. His pile was nowhere near empty but it was much lower than it should have been.
“He’s giving you a time of it,” Caden said as he joined them. He nodded respectfully at Fallon.
Fallon focused on the game, watching as the boy threw two incredibly weak cards out in contrast to the last turn where he’d played brilliantly. Fallon countered so that he just barely won. There were three more hands in this round.
Yes, he had to agree. The boy, Shane, was doing surprisingly well. The corners of his lips twitched. Perhaps the boy had something to him after all.
Shea let out a breath. Seemed like he was finally onto her game. Luring him into a false sense of security had been easy. Keeping him there, a little less so. She’d managed to prevent him from seeing her strategy until now. She’d hoped her bluff would last through this hand to the next, but there was nothing for it now.
She smiled inwardly when the dice came up a five and placed a red stone in the middle for her bet. He matched her, and the hand commenced with him taking the first two tricks and her the last three to win the hand and the pot.
Because she’d spent most of the beginning of the game letting him take card after card, she had only the cards she wanted in her hand. Most of them weren’t considered high cards, but when paired with another, their strength increased exponentially.
As long as he didn’t roll a two, three or six, she was good to go.
“I’ll be…” he said as she took the next round.
Shea smiled inwardly. She’d settled on a neutral expression when he figured out what she was doing. Now it was time to let everything play out and see if she was right.
They were on the last hand, and Shea could practically taste the victory.
Fallon rolled a six. Shea nearly snarled.
“That wins me the game,” he said, laying his cards out.
Of all the rotten luck. Shea tossed her cards into the gaming center and sat back. So close.
Ah well, at least they hadn’t been playing for real.
“Good game,” she told him politely. “Thank you for teaching me.”
“Would you like to play again?” he asked.
She snorted. Not bloody likely.
If he’d been playing like he had in the last few hands for the entire game, it would have had a much different outcome. It was only because he underestimated her and took it easy in the beginning, that she’d done as well as she had.
“Thank you, but no. I’m sure my squad leader has things he needs me to do.”
She waited for his dismissal before she stood and left. It had been a surprisingly fun interlude, something she never would have thought possible.
Fallon and Caden watched the slight figure leave. Caden dropped into the spot the boy had vacated and picked up the hand he’d tossed aside.
“I’m surprised he did as well as he did with these cards. You should have been able to force an end to the game much sooner.”
He handed the cards to Fallon to examine.
“You’re right. He was astonishingly resourceful. Even you and I would have been hard pressed to give a good showing with a crap hand like this. Keep an eye on him, would you?”
Caden’s interest sharpened. “You thinking of recruiting him?”
“Possibly. He’s got a bright mind. He’s patient and bluffs better than most of the clan leaders I deal with on a regular basis. With a little polishing, he might be an asset in our ranks. What do you think?”
Caden considered. “It’s possible. Especially if he has the skills Perry said he has. It concerns me that he’s a Lowlander, though. Giving someone like that access to sensitive information could constitute a security risk. You’d have to make him part of the Trateri before even considering it.”
“Hm.” Fallon idly shuffled the cards. “It’ll probably be awhile one way or another. He’s too young for my guard right now. We’ll see what the future brings.”
Fallon set the cards aside. “Now, tell me. How do our forces stand?”
Chapter Twelve
Clark bounced up to Shea with all the energy of a newborn puppy. “How did you like the game? I can’t believe you played so long with Fallon. What’s he like? Did you have fun? It seemed like you had fun. I would have given anything to join.”
“Has anybody ever told you that you’re very chipper?” Shea asked, giving him a sidelong glance.
What had brought on all this enthusiasm? He was normally cheerful but not usually to this extent.
“Ah, give the kid a break, Shea,” Eamon said.
It seemed like he had forgiven her for whatever trespasses she’d made yesterday.
“He’s probably not the only one who’s going to be falling over themselves to ask you questions about your game. It’s not every day they see Fallon take an interest in someone.”
“Interest? Hardly. All he did was teach me the rules to a game.”
“I don’t know of any other person he’s done that for,” Buck said, joining them.
Maybe not, but she still didn’t see what all the fuss was about. They’d barely spoken aside from him explaining the rules.
He hadn’t recognized her, had he? Maybe he’d done so without realizing it.
“What do you think? He might be recruiting the Daisy?” Buck asked Eamon.
Eamon folded his arms. “It would be the first time someone from outside the clans has ever been considered.”
“Considered for what?” Shea found herself asking.
“His personal guard.” Clark practically hopped up and down.
“Not necessarily his personal guard,” Eamon clarified. “But something in that vein. Maybe for a position that reports directly to him.”
“That’s absurd.”
Please let it be absurd. She didn’t know how long her disguise would hold up under repeated contact or when she’d run into people, like Darius or his men, who’d seen her more recently.
“If you say so.” Buck’s tone of voice made it clear he didn’t entirely believe her. “Anyway, the men discovered a nice little pond we can use to bathe. Grab what you need and let’s go.”
Shea felt the blood drain from her face, leaving her suddenly light headed.
“Yes! Finally,” Clark said. “I’ve got enough dirt, grime and blood on me for a Lowlander to farm.”
“Indeed. Even my chiggers have chiggers at this point.” Eamon grimaced, scratching his neck. “Well hop to, Shane. We want to get to this pond before the rest of the company muddy it up with their own grime.”
“Right. Let me just get my stuff.” Shea pointed behind her and backed away.
“I’ll go with you,” Eamon said, standing up. “My stuff is over there as well.”
Shea gave him a sickly smile and turned. The smile quickly dropped from her face as soon as she had him at her back.
Panic welled inside. What was she going to do? There was no way in all of the Broken Lands that they wouldn’t know she was a female if they saw her naked. She really didn’t want to know what their response would be either.
Perhaps she could grab her stuff and slip away before anybody noticed. Making it back to the Highlands by herself, with no provisions or the proper gear, would be tough and damn near impossible, but it had to be better than waiting to be exposed.
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder.
Her stomach jumped up into her throat.
“Where are you going Shane?” Eamon asked. His brown eyes frowned down at her in puzzlement. “Our stuff is over here.”
She looked in the direction he was pointing. Sure enough, her pack sat next to his.
“Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking,” she told him.
She followed him to their packs.
She was overthinking this. She’d just leave something behind so that when she got to the lake she’d have to come back and get it.
Yes, that might work.
Maybe.
No, it would. It had to. The alternative was unacceptable.
“You two ready?” Clark asked from behind her. A towel was thrown over his shoulder and he held a change of clothes, soap, and washcloth in his hands.
Shea grabbed a towel and smiled back. “Yup.”
She trailed the three as they bantered among themselves. It didn’t take long to reach the pond, if it could be called that. Nestled into a smooth expanse of slippery stone, the pool was fed by a waterfall that fell in three tiers, creating smaller pools at each rock outcropping. A ledge rimmed the water allowing the men easy access. On three sides, a thin, slow moving stream trickled over moss covered rock.
It was an ideal place to bathe with the sun warming the shallow water and enough movement to prevent algae and other plants from growing. The water was slow enough that you didn’t have to be worried about being carried downstream.
; Shea felt a little envious that she wouldn’t get to enjoy it. Having only been able to run a wet wash cloth over her skin the previous night, she was still covered in the filth from battle. Blood flaked away in little chips in the spots she missed. A bath would be a decadent pleasure.
Maybe she could find her way back. Later. When everyone was asleep or busy with other things.
The men began disrobing. Shea turned her back and walked to the edge of the rock and set her stuff down.
There was a shout and then a splash behind her.
“Come on, jump in, Shane,” Clark called. He ducked under the surface and then shot up in a spray of water.
Buck and Eamon leapt into the middle of the pool after him, sending water cascading over the edge.
Shea kept her eyes determinedly on the men’s faces. She hadn’t seen so many naked bodies, in well, ever. There was no way she was going in that water.
“I think I forgot some things,” she told him, edging back. “I’ll just head back and get them.”
“What did you forget? Perhaps one of us has something you can use,” Buck said. He slicked his hair back and wiped the water off his face.
Shea shook her head. “I don’t think so. I forgot a change of clothes and my soap.”
“You can use my soap, Shane,” Clark offered, swimming to the edge and grabbing the soap he left there.
“Thanks, Clark, but I’ll need to get my clothes anyway.”
“Just wear what you’re wearing now,” Buck said.
“No, I don’t want to get clean only to put on dirty clothes again.”
Buck and Clark shared a sly look. Clark climbed out and walked towards her. She held her ground. It wasn’t easy; she didn’t like the grin he was giving her.
Buck climbed out as well, and now she had two naked men closing in on her.
“I think the Lowlander is afraid of a little water,” Buck told Clark.
“I’m thinking so too. What should we do about it?”