Ten Minutes Ago
Despite the desolate small town outside, the tavern bustled. Farmers and shepherds bumped shoulders, roaring stories of the day’s woes at one another over tankards of warm ale. In the corner, a singer did his best with a worn lyre, while a girl danced beside him atop an upturned barrel. Although neither singer nor dancer displayed noteworthy skill, the townsfolk cheered enthusiastically nonetheless, tossing copper coins their way as the singer drew his song to a halt and the dancer bowed. The loudest and drunkest of their number shouted suggestions the singer’s way, and he nodded, twanging his strings as he retuned his instrument to match whichever request he’d taken up.
The dancer stretched, squinting her round eyes at the exertion. Her outfit shifted, revealing a few extra inches of flesh for a moment before the satin swung back down. Not that it covered much in the first place. Gold decorations adorned her brassiere, and satin curtains dangled alluringly from its underside, swinging and swaying as she moved. Her bottoms barely covered anything at all; loose satin shifted this way and that, occasionally revealing a glimpse of the tight, short pants they were sewn to, just long enough to cover her rear end but no longer. A few of the men leaned up toward her, bellowing or murmuring sweet nothings her way. She batted her eyelashes back, neither promising nor refusing anything.
A few games of cards or dice rounded the less-drunken tables, copper coins stacked neatly beside the players. At one table, one of the players revealed a hand of aces, and the others groaned and pushed coins his way. Other tables held only lively conversation and the tavern’s dishes, mostly bland-looking food without much for seasoning. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, an almost familial atmosphere to the place.
Gideon stepped inside, robes billowing wide, and spread his arms, closing his eyes to drink in the noise. Silently, he reached out to the mana in the air. Disappointment colored his eyes as he opened them again. “No bardic magic… oh, well. I suppose I was expecting too much.”
As he spoke, the locals turned. One by one, they fell silent, until the whole tavern turned as still as the grave. One particularly drunk man continued to loudly attempt to flirt with the dancer for another few moments before one of his compatriots elbowed him in the gut. All eyes turned to Gideon. Even the dancer and the singer stared at him, the singer’s lyre twanging to a halt.
“Where’d you come from?” one of the men grumbled, shifting arms easily half as wide as Gideon onto the table. He leaned his chin on his cupped hands and stared at Gideon, eyes narrowed in open hostility. Silver hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail, only a single strand escaping the grip. He wore a short beard and the patched, worn clothes of a farmer.
“I’m just a traveler, sir. Just passing by,” Gideon declared.
The farmer harrumphed. “Look at those fancy robes. What’s a mage doing in this little town?”
“Passing by,” Gideon repeated.
“Passing by. Sounds like he’s too good for us, boys,” one of the men beside the first man said, laughing. Dark-hair close-cropped to his head, blue eyes shining, he looked Gideon over and scoffed, shaking his head. Unlike the first man, he wore loose clothing, more fit to shepherding under the blazing sun than farm work.
“Well. I didn’t say it,” Gideon said, shrugging.
A vein bulged on the dark-haired man’s forehead. He pushed up out of his seat.
Suddenly, the silver-haired man broke out in laughter. He put a hand on the dark-haired man’s shoulder, pressuring him back toward his seat. “You’ve got balls, kid, I’ll give you that! Come on in. Have a seat.”
Unwillingly, the dark-haired man sat back down. He glared at Gideon, baring his teeth in disgust.
Gideon beamed and nodded at the silver-haired man, navigating the tables over to the silver-haired man’s table. The music started back up, and conversation soon followed. In moments, the tavern became as rowdy as it had been before.
The silver-haired man offered his hand. “Tom Burrowy, and that there’s my son, Eric.” He gestured at the dark-haired man who’d spoken after him. Raising his hand to his mouth, he stage-whispered, “Bit of a good-for-nothing, if you ask me.”
Eric scowled. “Subtle.”
Gideon nodded at them. “I’m Gideon Nightfellow, wandering mage. I don’t call anywhere my home, and neither does anywhere call me its son. I’m travelling with my companion, Jet Glacis, who between you and me…” He raised his hand and adopted the same stage-whisper as Tom had. “…he’s a bit of a prick. Got a stick up his ass and straight through to his skull.”
Tom laughed and slapped his shoulder, shaking his head. “Kid! I know what you mean. You should’ve met Eric’s mother, same way, same exact way.”
Eric barely hid a snarl. “Leave mom out of it.”
“Oh, I loved her, you know I loved her. But you have to admit…”
Slamming his hand on the table, Eric sat forward, glaring at Tom.
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Tom waved his hand. He leaned toward Gideon. “Son inherited a bit too much of her blood, if you know what I mean.”
Gideon chuckled, nodding knowingly.
“Fine. Laugh at me all you want,” Eric grumbled, crossing his arms.
“Still in a bad mood because of that ewe? She was always wandering off, you know. You were bound to lose her some day.”
Eric glared at Tom. “It’s not just one ewe. It’s three, now. We’ve either got wolves or an infestation of drakes. It’s bad news for the whole town, if you’d take me seriously for a second!”
Tom waved his hand. “Three ewes, that’s nothing. It’s not as if we’ve never seen wolves or drakes. Keep your eyes to the sky and ears piqued at moonrise, and when we figure out which one it is, we’ll take them down. But there’s no need to lose sleep over it until them.”
Eric huffed and crossed his arms again, turning away from the table.
“A delicate soul, always so delicate,” Tom bemoaned. He patted his chest pocket and pulled out a well-worn deck of cards. “Do you play?”
Gideon’s eyes gleamed. “Do I play. Do I play?”
Chuckling, Tom shuffled the deck. “You in, Eric? Mabel, Sam?”
The other two burly figures sitting at the table, one woman and one man, nodded in response to his question. Eric snorted, but uncrossed his arms and sat forward.
“Ante up,” Tom said.
Gideon reached into a hidden inner pocket of his robes and pulled out a small gold coin. “This is the smallest I have, is it fine?”
A hush fell over the table. All eyes fell on the gold coin. Mabel visibly licked her lips.
“Aye, that’s fine, son,” Tom said, nodding. “Mighty fine.”
Gideon placed it on the table and gave them a wry smile. “I’m no rich man, but unfortunately, I couldn’t get change at the tailor’s in a smaller increment.”
Every word sent shivers through those sitting at the table. All eyes began to gleam, even Tom’s. To suggest he bought his clothes at a tailor, that this gold coin was change… for farmers like themselves who rarely saw a gold coin in their life, Gideon represented unimaginable riches. Mabel licked her lips again, and Sam leaned forward, tapping a finger on the table. Tom flicked his eyes around the group, and a flicker of understanding passed from one to the next.
“Poker fine with everyone?” Tom asked.
Ayes sounded from around the table. Gideon inclined his head.
The cards were dealt. Gideon looked at his and sighed. He hesitated, thinking long and hard about his move, then tossed another single coin onto the pile. The others complied, then added another. After another long look at his cards, Gideon sighed louder and folded, shaking his head.
Smiling wryly, Tom took the hand and collected the bids. “Sometimes Lady Luck just don’t smile your way.”
“Lady Luck always smiles my way,” Gideon said quietly, almost to himself.
Another round. This time, Gideon’s eyes glittered with excitement. He anted up once, twice, thrice, and then the hands were revealed. His full house of kings and queens lost to a straight flush. Another sigh, and the coins left his hand.
Tom shook his head. “It just ain’t your night, kid. Want to back out?”
Gideon shook his head, his eyes alight with fiery passion. “No! I can’t. Not now.”
Chuckling, Tom dealt another hand. “Ante up.”
Gideon checked his cards. A frown creased his brow, and he pressed his lips together. Tapping the table, he exchanged two of his cards for new ones. His eyes shone, then darkened. Again, he frowned, then grinned, then frowned again. His hand shook, and his brow creased. He glanced around at the rest of the table.
The others quietly shared looks. “What’ll it be, boy?” Tom asked.
Hesitating, Gideon took a deep breath. He shook his head, then bit his lip, at war with himself. At last, he drew out a large gold coin. Almost three centimeters in diameter, it glittered in the tavern’s oil lamps.
All eyes fixed on the coin. Some of the gamblers at other tables looked over, drawn by the golden light. Gideon slammed it down on the table and looked up, panting, his hair in disarray, eyes blurred with the rush of gambling. “This is my last coin. It’s all I’ve got.”
Mabel gasped. Sam caught his breath. Even Eric, who’d been sitting back petulantly, sat forward, eyes suddenly gleaming.
“All in, then,” Tom said, nodding at the others. They pushed their coins forward, including a few silvers and golds of their own, along with the gold coins they’d taken from Gideon. Tom shook his head, admiring Gideon’s youthful brazenness, and yet apologetic as he glanced at his cards. Four kings stared back at him, dealt from the bottom of the deck. He’d dealt Gideon four jacks, but they would lose to his kings. Sorry, kid. Still, it’s best you learn the ways of the world while you’ve still got gold to lose.
One after another, the others revealed their hands. Flush. Full house. Straight. At last, Tom revealed his cards. He shook his head at Gideon, a sorry smile on his face. “Listen, kid…”
Gideon put his cards on the table. Slowly, he looked up, smiling. “Do I take it?”
Eric jumped to his feet, staring. Mabel glanced at Tom, frowning, then glared at Gideon. Sam sat back, startled. Tom slowly lowered his brows, expression darkening by the moment.
A royal flush stared back at him, the top hand possible in the game, and not at all the cards he’d handed Gideon.
Grinning, Gideon gathered their coins toward himself, quickly secreting them into various pockets. “Wonderful playing with you. You know, I haven’t had a game that fun in a long time. Would you look at the time, though, I’m afraid I must go.”
Eric kicked the table over. Cards, coins, and mugs flew in every direction. Gideon shrieked and ducked away, hands over his head. Incensed, Eric charged at Gideon. “You cheated!”
Tom turned toward Gideon, a stormy expression on his face. He said nothing, but his expression said it all. Mabel and Sam followed after Eric, cracking their knuckles.
Gideon backed away, still smiling. He glanced back a few times, ensuring he retreated toward the exit. “It was just a friendly game of cards. Let’s not get all worked up. Didn’t I say? Lady Luck always smiles on me.”
His back bumped into something large. Gideon looked up. A burly man towered over him, hairy arms crossed, a stern expression on his face.
“Boy, I think it’s time you learned what happens when you cheat on someone else’s home turf…” Tom grumbled.
“I think it’s time you learned what happens when you tangle with a lightn—” Gideon’s hand fell short. He slapped an empty hip. His face fell. Shit! I forgot! And I didn’t even have time to tear out a page earlier. Fuck!
“I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t have your tome when you sauntered in, those fine robes flying all over the place. Awful brave of you to come our way unarmed. We appreciate it, we do,” Tom said, slowly smirking.
Mabel and Sam closed in on him, eyes twinkling with brutal light. Eric reached for his robes.
Gideon coughed nervously, wriggling away from the man behind him, and barely dodged Eric’s grab. “Uh, haha, or we can skip the beating and just—”
In that moment, the back door slammed open. Jet stood there, his hair wild, eyes narrowed, a curry brush in one hand, cloak lost somewhere in the stables. Gideon stared, and a bright grin broke over his face like sunshine after rain. “Jet!”