Simon Hawke - The Outcast

“How far behind?” the Guardian asked.

“Not too far,” Sorak said, “but enough to make for a convincing loss this time. Roll... nineteen. That way, at least half the players beat us on this pass.”

The Guardian rolled the dice.

“Player Four rolls nineteen,” the game lord said. “The win goes to Player Three for one hundred and ” sixty ceramics. Sixth and final pass, sixty ceramics to stay in. Ante up, please.”

“If you drop out now, you will still be ahead by twenty ceramics,” Krysta said. “If you stay in and lose, you will be down by forty, but you stand to win over two hundred.”

“The risk would seem well worth it,” Sorak said.

All four players stayed in. Sorak had expected the young woman to drop out. There was no way she could win now unless she rolled an almost perfect score, but desperation was written clearly on her face. Her hands trembled as she counted out the coins. When all four players had wagered, the game lord called out, “Hawke’s Gambit. Place your bets, please.”

“I will wager twenty ceramics,” Player One said.

The young woman swallowed hard and bit her lower lip. “I shall wager... one hundred and sixty ceramics.” It was the precise amount she had bet so far, and by the look on her face, it was clear that she was thinking emotionally and not logically. The odds were very much against her.

“Player One, it will cost you one hundred and forty ceramics to stay in the gambit,” said the game lord. The merchant nodded. “I will match the wager,” he said.

Player Three was ahead at this point in terms of the final tally, but only by two points. He thought about it for a moment, then said, “I decline.”

“Player Three declines the gambit, and participates only in the final pass,” said the game lord. He turned to Sorak. “It is up to you, sir.”

“It will cost you one hundred and sixty ceramics to match the wager and participate in the gambit,” Krysta said. “Or else you may elect to decline and take part only in the final pass.”

Sorak glanced at the young woman, who looked as if she had wagered as much as she could possibly afford. If she lost this final pass, she would also lose the gambit, and her losses would be doubled. She did not look as if she could afford it.

“Player Two has increased the wager,” Sorak asked. “Do I have the same option?”

Krysta smiled. “If you wish.”

“Then I will wager three gold pieces,” he said.

The young woman gasped.

“The wager is three gold pieces, or three hundred ceramics,” said the game lord. “Players One and Two, it will cost you an additional one hundred and forty ceramics to stay in.”

The young woman looked down and shook her head. “I do not have it,” she said.

“Player Two declines the gambit and takes part only in the final pass,” the game lord said. He turned to the merchant. “That leaves you, sir.”

The merchant gave Sorak a level stare. “I will match the wager,” he said.

“Betting is closed,” the game lord said. “All players to take part in the final pass, gambit for Players One and Four. Sixth and final pass, Player One.”

The merchant picked up all six dice, gave Sorak a long look, and rolled. The score totaled fifty. He looked up at Sorak and smiled. The young woman rolled next, and she came up with a twenty-nine. She sighed when she realized what might have happened. She had still lost, but nowhere near as heavily as she would have if she had participated in the gambit, even at the level she had originally wagered. Player Three rolled next and came up with a thirty, which meant that the merchant still had the top score. His smile broadened.

: Sorak quickly calculated the merchant’s final tally. On his first pass, he had rolled a three. On his second pass, the merchant rolled a four, then eleven on the third, sixteen on the fourth, and seventeen on the fifth. Adding the fifty that he had just rolled, that gave him a final tally of one hundred and one. As of the last pass, Sorak’s own final tally stood at sixty-one, and if he lost the final pass, he would be down forty ceramics, but that was not counting the gambit. Roll forty-one,” he said to the Guardian.

The Guardian rolled.

“Player Four rolls forty-one,” the game lord said. “The win for the final pass goes to Player One, for two hundred and forty ceramics, less the house take of ten percent, which leaves the pot at two hundred and sixteen ceramics. Final tally for Hawke’s Gambit: Player One, one hundred and one points, Player Four, one hundred and two points. Gambit to Player Four, for six hundred ceramics or six gold pieces. Congratulations, sir. Next round, four ceramics to open, ante up into the pot.”

“One point,” said the merchant, through gritted teeth. He slammed his fist down on the side of the table. “One lousy point!”

“Better luck next time,” Krysta said to him. She turned to Sorak with a wary smile. “For someone who has never played this game before, you seem to have done rather well. I am curious, could you have stood the loss?”

“Not very well,” said Sorak.

She smiled. “You have the instincts of a gambler.”

“You think so?” he replied. “Is this the way that you have built your fortune?”

“One of the ways,” she replied slyly.

“Indeed? What are the others?”

“I am not sure you would possess the same talent for them as you seem to have for gambling,” she replied, with a chuckle.

“Then perhaps I should play to my strength,” he said. “This time, I shall buy you a drink, and you can help me celebrate. Then I think I will try this game again.”

“You may wish to try that table over there,” she said. “It has higher stakes.”

“Only if you stand next to me and bring me luck,” he said.

She smiled. “I will do my best. Now, about that drink....”

After Sorak won his first round, Krysta moved on to circulate among her other patrons. She wished him luck and made him promise that he would see her again before he left. He remained at the table long enough to win a few more rounds and lose Some others, playing in such a manner that despite leaving the table on a loss, he still wound up coming out ahead. Then he moved on to a different table. There were other games to be played, some fairly simple, where the players wagered on a little wooden ball that spun around inside a wheel, others more complicated, where cards were used and the wagering was based on strategy. Sorak decided to stick with the game that he already knew. It all went smoothly, and no one seemed to be aware that he was cheating, though Krysta’s eyes were sharp on him the whole night.

Before long, his purse was heavy with his winnings, despite his having converted all the ceramics to silver and gold coins. He had to transfer most of his winnings to his pack because his purse would not hold them all. As he made his way toward the door, Tigra at his side, he suddenly found his way blocked by three half-giants, all armed with heavy clubs of knurled aeafari wood.

“The lady would like to speak with you,” one of them said.

He ducked under quickly so the Guardian could probe the half-giant’s mind. There was not much there. Simple, brutish thoughts and simple, brutish appetites. The half-giant knew nothing about what he had done. He was simply following orders to bring Sorakto “the lady.”

A low warning growl rumbled from Tigra’s throat “It’s all right, Tigra,” he said. He looked up at the half-giant and smiled. “Lead the way,” he said.

The guards escorted him toward the back of the room where there was a stairway leading to the upper floors. They went up to the second floor and down a long corridor, then stopped before two heavy wooden doors about halfway down the hall. One of the half-giants knocked, and the door was opened by a half-elf male. Sorak noted that the half-elf was armed with an iron sword and several daggers. The half-giants did not enter with him.