The dealer scattered cards to each player, and the small audience fell silent. There were three players at this game, and each guarded a good-sized pile of coins, silver Vagren crowns. These were the sorts of people who won more than Renado ever had at cards and lived off those winnings. For them, the onlookers held breath and tried to sneak glances at their carefully hidden cards.
Ren stood across the table from the young woman, Ira, who had won the last two nights he’d watched her play. He glanced briefly at the other two players: a man with veiny arms sat next to the man in front of Ren, with his thick black beard and braided hair. Then he looked back at Ira.
The game was a familiar variant on Court. Ira played a yellow seven. Muscle arms played a green nine—a high discard, to be certain. Black braid matched the called suit with a yellow six and a malcontent grunt. Ira took the cards and followed the scheme with a second yellow card. Muscle arms was aptly irked by the lack of his yellows and put on his Court card, the Minister. Black braid was out of his yellow cards, though he had followed house in the last scheme. He also opted to play his Court card, the Baron, and won the second scheme.
Ren was there on his own—though he was certain Karsef was somewhere in the tavern too. Gravagan had left the city as abruptly as he had arrived, and now they were awaiting the arrival of warriors from the Circle. Warriors to help them overthrow the Mage Kings of Ith. Ren tried not to think about it, because he doubted they could accomplish it without casualties. He entertained his anxious waiting with Ira.
She won the game of course. Her friend, Torbin, stepped up to the table to pile her coins into a lockbox. The mercenary was always there when Ira gambled, to protect her. He was a friend, she had told Ren a few weeks earlier, but also an employee. Ira did nothing but gamble, and Ren could not have guessed if she had a fortune hidden away somewhere or if she spent it all on her illustrious perfumes, rich chestnut hair dyes, and sharp silk skirts. She took a few of the coins before Torbin made them disappear and headed for the bar. A few members of the audience tried to get close, but her leaning hand kept a stool free for Ren.
“Good game,” he said, sliding in beside her. The game she had just won was the third match the three had played before the others were busted.
Ira’s grey-brown eyes flicked toward him. “I knew by the end of the first game how he would use his Court cards,” she said. She ordered a beer, and the innkeeper complied. Ren already had a cider in hand, as he leaned against the bar and faced her. She leaned over to sniff his drink. “You and your fruity drinks.”
“My brother was always the heavier drinker,” Ren admitted, smiling.
Ira smiled, putting her palm on her chin. “Your brother from… south?” To Ren’s nod, she added, “Ever mysterious, Ren.”
Ren took a drink. “Normally, I might give you the chance to win some secrets from me in a game, but it just wouldn’t be fair.” He watched as she took a drink, smiling tauntingly until she lowered her cup.
“No, I would take that bet,” Ira said, grinning. “After all, you don’t know where I am from either.”
“If we played cards for it, then I never would.” Ren scratched his chin and frowned.
Ira fluffed her hair, holding her beer in front of her. “I’ll just take that as a compliment then.”
“Please do,” Ren said. They both took a drink, smiling. It was the pleasant sort of awkward, where they both wanted to say more, but both had reasons not to. Ren leaned a little closer. “I might have to leave Vagren soon. Next week, maybe.”
“When will you be back?”
Ren shrugged. “Maybe a month or two later. Maybe never.”
She was nodding during the first part, but glanced sharply at him when he said the last two words. Her expression was blank, but she probably felt the same way Ren did. He hoped she did, secretly. “And your friends—Karsef and the others—will they go with you?”
Ren nodded.
“I see,” Ira said. She probably knew the four regular companions of Renado were not simply his friends. They were always armed, and usually stayed sober. “Then we’ve got another week, at least.”
They smiled at each other, and Ren raised his mug for a cheers.