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Oh Ye Traveling Bard
Chapter 64: Night Calls

Chapter 64: Night Calls

It was a long arduous day of listening to the squawking of young musicians on the flutes they practiced with. My ears felt numb after all that and what talent the older sibling seemed to have paled in comparison to the sheer stubbornness of their younger sibling and how poorly they took to lessons. I felt sorry for whomever was in charge of teaching them the fine art of literacy and manners respectively. For a wealthy family burgeoning on the doorsteps of royalty it was only proper that they raise their children to be exemplary in such things.

The air was crisp and fresh. I was grateful for the free meal that came with the lessons even though it was less than pleasant. I wondered about the true skill of their normal cook, or if that was just a ruse to mask what their true lifestyle was. I didn’t see the children protest nearly as much as a spoiled young sire might at such an unpleasant turn of quality.

The streets were busy with the evening sunshine piercing through the overcast clouds that dotted the sky with their light gray color threatening to sprinkle us with a little spattering of rain at any moment. I thought briefly of the hot dry deserts of the far south and how unforgiving they were. The strange changes of the world a marvel to me still even after such a long life. I watched everyone with passing interest and made my way to Trevor’s favorite places.

His memories showed me secret back alley pubs and where the best meat filled pies were in town. I parched one for a half bit and as I enjoyed it I kept my eye out for him. I had made it clear that it was a fleeting moment in his life but I did sense a much darker side of him with the rage he let loose upon that poor shopkeeper. Full from an early dinner I made my way to Featherdown. I would find one of the rowdier pubs in town and try to earn some coin with music.

Waving to the red headed innkeeper I grabbed my lute and left at a brisk pace. I know that Trevor would be looking for company at the Frothing Pig, his appetite for the pleasures of the flesh far exceeding any I had experienced in my own life. Instead I went to the Youthful Maiden. A place where many of the other guards went to relax and play dice, gossip, and brag about their many accomplishments with women, extorting fees from the public, and plenty of other undignified things.

As I approached the door to the pub a large burly man stepped from the shadows cast by the lamp at the doorway. “Ain’t seen you here before. What you want?”

I gave him my best winning smile and bowed slightly at the waist, “I merely mean to play a few songs maybe earn enough coin to wet my throat for the night. Maybe a little extra if someone pays for my drinks.”

The man built mucus in his throat and spat near my feet. “I don’t think the master of the establishment likes to poor minstrels that ain't worth their salt. So, why don’t you make yourself scarce.” The man looked at his dirty nails and started to pick at the dirt underneath them.

Though I didn’t fully need the coin I would need a little more after the large expense it was for the new clothes that were being fitted for me. I expected these guards would be a little tight with their coins at first but there is nothing a few drinks and getting more familiar with me would do to loosen their purses.

I smiled at him still and stepped a little closer before giving him a stage whisper, “Why don’t we make a deal? I’ll give you one half bit now to get inside and if I make enough coins you could have a full bit when I go to leave?”

I could see the greed sparkle in his eyes. I assumed he only got a half bit for a night of sitting in front of the door and making sure only a certain clientele made their way inside. Not a bad living for someone of low status. “Make it two bits on your way out.”

I shook my head, “I don’t think I can make that much tonight. Most of what I make is already going to you with the whole bit. However, this will have to be a one time deal if you ask for more. I need to make a living you know.”

His frown grew as he stared daggers at me. I debated using magic to influence his feeble mind. After a time he finally nodded at me and held one hand out for the half bit I’d promised him. “Pleasure doing business,” He grumbled.

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If he extorted me again on a different night I would have to tell the owner that he had been charging “entrance fees” and skimming the profits for himself. I wasn’t above making sure that he went down for pushing his luck a little too far.

I stepped inside to a rowdy and roomy bar. A dozen tables full of people playing cards and dice were spread out haphazardly through the room. No two tables the same distance apart as the others. I saw a few harlots in the room sitting on laps and stroking men’s egos with their charms to get coins from them. One satisfied watched them with a little more than carnal hunger in his eyes. A dangerous glint in them as he used a knife to trim his nails. The room was filled to bursting with the noises of conversation, laughter, and the arguments from people losing at a hand of cards or a roll of the dice.

Instantly I knew this wasn’t a place I would get much out of if I played music. No one would hear it over the sounds of the lives already swirling around the room like a tumultuous sea. I put my lute over my shoulder and picked out a table of men playing cards that had an open seat with them. I counted four other card players there as they shuffled and dealt out a classic card game. One with simple rules that could be manipulated with the deftness of a hand manipulating the outcome.

I walked over to the bartender and motioned for his attention. “Barkeep, how’re you this fine evening?”

He eyed me dubiously and shook his head as he eyed me up and down. Noting the lute upon my shoulder. “That dumb bastard let a minstrel in here. Look, if you know anything you know it is too loud in here for any damned music to be played. So why don’t you cut your losses and get the fuck out of here.”

I held up my hands and shook my head vehemently. “No, I figured that when I came in. But I do love a game of cards. Why don’t you sell me a round for me and everyone at that table,” I indicated the one I had spotted from across the room. “I won’t bother with playing any music but I know a good place to gamble when I see one.”

The bartender stroked his chin and smiled. I could see a few teeth missing, most likely knocked out by a swift blow to the chin at some point from a drunken customer. “I can do that. Be a bit and a quarter for a full round. Pay up.”

I pulled out the necessary coins and placed them on the table. I waited for the five cups to be poured of frothy dark ales and sighed at the size of them. This man used rather thick mugs, sturdy but not as deep. A way to go about service less drink for the same amount of coin. I scooped the ales up and headed over to the table.

“Hey there gentlemen. I figured I’d offer a round of drinks for a seat at the table and a couple hands of cards. What do you say?”

Two of the men looked a little shorter on coin than when I entered the pub. Their stacks having taken a serious hit on a poorly timed bet. Though the table all nodded as I set down the drinks and passed them around. Taking my own I pulled out a handful of quarter bits and set them down in front of me. “I see you gentlemen have been playing for a little while. How do you settle dealer?”

“We rotate to the left each deal. Same card game each time, we ain’t got time to tell you how to play.”

I shook my head as I drank again, “I know every card game under the king’s eyes. I’ll be fine.”

I watched as each of the men drank and started to deal out cards. Some of them already showing signs of having maybe too much to drink to smartly be gambling. I altered my inner body to handle any of the liquor so no matter how much I drank I wouldn’t feel the effects as strongly. The benefits of shapeshifting.

When the cards came to my hands to be dealt I went back into another memory of how to set and rig a deck to always deal me a winning hand. I did so as deftly as when I had peak mastery of the skill. The sleight of hand was so seamless that I would be beyond shocked to be recognized. I made sure that the game would be close between me and another player so I could make sure to draw as much coin out of him as possible.

The temptation to always give myself a winning hand had long since faded when I was a gambler traveling in another kingdom. Being too ‘lucky’ often came with scrutinizing attention that never ended well.

I made sure that when I dealt I would only win every other time I did and always by a close margin. I kept all my other hands up to fate and chance making the smartest bets I could. It became clear to me though that another at the table had been cheating. The small movements of his hands from under the table where no doubt he had stashed a few cards. A clumsy move that got him caught a dozen hands in. When two King’s Crowns had been dealt and revealed to the group.

The guilty man stumbled over his words and tried immediately to blame someone else at the table. “I bet it was the new guy! This damned minstrel’s been cheating!”

I motioned to my own stack of coins and cleared my throat, “I barely have more coins than when I started. If I was cheating I would have a lot more wouldn’t I?” I had been secreting away some of my winnings to keep the other players from knowing how much I had been pulling ahead.

“Unless you're bad at it!” The man stood up and sealed his own downfall. One of the extra cards showing from his belt. He was too drunk to slip it back all the way as he pointed at me. As the other men of the group gasped he looked down, “Shit.”

One of the other guys stood up and punched the cheater in the face and tackled him to the ground. “You cheating BASTARD!”

As the other guys were distracted I swept my winnings away and stood up to retreat as a true bar fight started when the violence knocked over another table’s drinks ruining their dice game.

I had earned a pence and four bits from the gambling as the men kept piling more of their ill gotten gains on the table. I wasn’t so noble as to try and return them to their owners. I needed the money as much as they did.

The lackey at the door was obviously drunk and I had to struggle to get his attention. “How you holding up big guy?”

“Oi, you owe me a half bit. Ye slimy bastard! Trying to slip away from me.” His voice was slurred and stank of hard liquor.

I pressed the coin into his hand and pushed him back down gently to sit on his stool. “I just wanted to make sure you got paid. I’m off, see you tomorrow.”

I whistled as I headed out into the night.