Martin Scott - Thraxas Under Siege (ARC)

"I'll cover your hundred."

Ravenius considers for a few moments, then tosses his cards back to Moolifi, dropping out of the hand. General Acarius immediately folds as well. Praetor Capatius, however, confidently pushes forward his hundred gurans.

There's a lot of money riding on this hand and Horm isn't even involved. So far he hasn't made any sort of substantial wager. If I win this I'll go well ahead of him. If I lose, I'll be a long way behind.

When my next card arrives it's a nine. I'm disappointed, but three queens is still a good hand. It's Glixius to bet. He muses on his cards briefly, then counts out another hundred gurans and places it firmly in the middle of the table. A little too firmly, maybe. I get the impression he might be bluffing.

Ravenius shrugs. He hands his cards back to Moolifi, taking care not to let them turn over. Even when you're dropping out of a hand, you don't want your opponents to see what cards you were holding. It might give them some clues as to your strategy.

I can either call Glixius, or raise him further. I'm fairly confident I've got the hand won and I'd like to raise him but I'm aware that I don't have all that much room for error. Two hundred and thirty gurans is a hefty chunk out of my capital. I'd risk it for myself, but there's Makri to think of. I utter a silent curse. Now I'm having to think about Makri it's interfering with my normal aggressive style. I put in a hundred gurans and call Glixius, then lay down my three queens for all to see. Glixius turns over a run of 6, 7, 8, 9, all green. A straight flush which beats my three queens. And then he actually laughs, which is a very low-class thing to do at the card table.

"My game, I believe," he says, and scoops up his money like a man who's never seen a few hundred gurans before.

I'm seething inside though I don't let it show.

Cicerius approaches the table.

"Time for a break, gentlemen," he says. "There are refreshments at the bar."

General Acarius looks up sharply.

"Time for a break? We've hardly got started."

The Deputy Consul shoots him a serious look.

"It's time for a break."

Acarius shrugs, and the players rise from the table. I attempt to follow them to the bar but I'm immediately surrounded by a gaggle of concerned Turanian citizens, demanding to know what I'm doing throwing my money away in such a rash manner.

"You lost two hundred and thirty gurans in one hand!" hisses Cicerius. "It was far too adventurous. Have you forgotten what this game means to Turai?"

"I had three queens," I retort. "It was a reasonable gamble."

Cicerius snorts in derision, though I swear he doesn't know one end of a pack of cards from the other. Meanwhile Lisutaris has hobbled up, still with her blanket round her shoulders, and she doesn't waste any time expressing her concern.

"Thraxas! If you keep on like this you'll be out of the game in five minutes."

"I'm doing fine!" I insist. "Even the best card player gets the odd reverse. Look, Makri's got more at stake than anyone and she's not worried, is she?"

"She was burying her face in her hands the last time I looked," replies Lisutaris. "And I'm not surprised. Keep on the way you're going and we'll soon be buying her wedding presents."

"Could you try showing a little confidence in me?" I say trying to keep my voice somewhere below a bellow. "You can't expect me to play cards when you're on my back every five minutes."

Cicerius and Lisutaris both open their mouths. I'm guessing they're not about to express confidence in me, so I break free and head for the bar, where Makri is serving drinks.

"Nice going, Thraxas," she says. "So, will you visit me in Yal?"

"You're not going to Yal."

"I should probably start packing. How long do you think I've got? Half an hour maybe?"

"Just hand me a beer and save the sarcasm. Glixius got lucky. I'll get him next time."

"Horm's hardly bet a thing yet," says Makri. "If you keep losing he doesn't have to. He'll beat you by default."

"He won't beat me by anything. Give me the beer and stop worrying. I'm just warming up."

Hanama joins us at the bar, and I swear I've never seen the Assassin look so perturbed.

"I knew this was a foolish venture," she says. "I won't let Horm take you off to Yal, Makri. The instant Thraxas loses I'm breaking you out of here."

"I'm not going to lose."

"How long do you think we have?" asks Hanama. "I estimate half an hour."

I shake my head, and grab my beer.

"You shouldn't be drinking," says Hanama. "You need a clear head."

"Do I tell you how to assassinate people?"

"No. But I'm good at that."

Not wishing to bandy more words with irritating Assassins, I head back to the table, avoiding the eyes of those who are staring at me with a marked lack of confidence; which is to say, everyone in the tavern.

We're all about to take our seats again when there's a loud knocking at the front door. We'd ignore it, but someone shouts loudly for Casax. The Brotherhood boss sends Karlox to find out what's going on. Karlox draws back the bolt, disappears briefly outside, then comes back to whisper in Casax's ear.

"Damn," mutters Casax. "I'll have to leave you gentlemen for a short while. A little trouble back at the Mermaid. Karlox will sit in for me."

There are a few nods and grunts round the table. It's unusual for a player to leave the table mid-game, but not unheard of. Providing he has a friend who can take over his seat, it's common practice in Turai to let him rejoin the game when he returns. Casax hurries off and Karlox takes his seat. Casax is shrewd. Karlox is dumb. It's an excellent opportunity to remove some of the Brotherhood's ill-gotten money.

Unfortunately, it's not me who does the removing. Moolifi keeps dealing me dreadful cards and I can't get into the game. It's dispiriting, particularly as Horm the Dead suddenly makes a move, sucking the hapless Karlox into an unwise gamble on two eights and two dragons. Horm beats him with three bishops, and rakes in several hundred gurans. I curse. Horm has suddenly leapt ahead of me. I'm down to about 750 gurans, and I'd guess he's on around 1,500.

Casax returns fairly quickly, having sorted out whatever criminal problem he was faced with at his own tavern. If he's annoyed to see how much money Karlox has lost, he doesn't show it. He retakes his seat, picks up his cards, and carries on playing. By now we're deep into the night. The fire is crackling in the grate and the torches are burning brightly on the walls. The spectators keep their voices to low murmurs and the players huddle over their cards, deep in concentration. I lose another fifty gurans on a reckless bid which I don't follow through, and I start to curse Moolifi for the cards she's dealing me. Horm's pile of money seems to be growing steadily while mine is shrinking slowly. General Acarius is the other big winner, while young Ravenius is doing badly, as he often does.

Moolifi deals the next hand. She sends me a black dragon and a red dragon. Very promising. General Acarius puts in thirty gurans and I follow suit, along with several others. Before Moolifi can deal the third card, the General starts to cough, quite violently. Sweat pours down his face. Acarius has come down with the winter malady.

"Another one?" says Ravenius. "This is strange."

It is strange, and not conducive to concentrating on the game. I look over at Horm.

"Is this your doing? Are you making everyone sick so you can win?"

"Nothing to do with me," protests the Sorcerer.

We haul the General back into the store room, which is by now resembling a temporary hospital. Dandelion fusses around him with medicine, as brightly as she did her first patient. Personally I'm heartily sick of all invalids and wouldn't much care if they died, but Dandelion seems to have taken happily to the role of nurse, and will probably keep them all alive. Makri arrives to see if we need any help. Dandelion shakes her head.