Iron Elf - A Race Reborn (Book 2) (18 page)

A blonde god of a Northlander passed. He wore a loincloth, a cape, and the gazes of every woman on the street.

“That,” Mina said. “That’s why. Because they can.”

“Mmm. I ought to arrest him. I’ll think of something.”

Humans were more numerous here than in any other city but they were far from dominant. It was an elven metropolis, after all, and we passed many of my people. There were stiff-backed Mithenian nobles and purple-robed Vergaran mages. There were aristocrats from every province, their wealth evident in their costumes and their retinues. There were even a few wood elves. You couldn’t separate a wood elf from their longbows, but they compromised by carrying a single arrow. It was more than enough deterrent.

There were dwarves aplenty, which was no surprise. They had a fortress in the Goldore Mountains and controlled much of the mining. Those in the city were either assayers or sellers of mining equipment. They paraded about in silks that shone with flowers of gold and silver thread.

“Your fellow dwarves walk boldly in this city. Almost like they owned it.”

“Where you see boldness I see confidence,” Mina said. “Or is that against the law nowadays?”

I held up my hands. “I spoke carelessly.”

Thankfully we were distracted by a young capran and his retinue, which included a guide, a valet, a sketch artist, and six young women. “This way! This way!” the capran said. “I want to get one next to Goldore Gil!”

He was ridiculously dressed in the latest elven fashions. The cap was too tight, the sash was too wide, and the sleeves were way too long, even if the idea was to show that their wearer did no manual labour. A smallsword hung too low from his belt.

The artist had a sketchbook out and was busy recording scenes. He was a capran like his employer, and for some reason that made me uneasy.

“We’ve been seeing more capran tourists lately, have you noticed?” Mina asked.

“Young men on a grand tour,” I said. “Apparently they’ve added Brandish to the itinerary.”

“Funny how the travel is all one-way. I’m probably the only dwarf who’s seen the Silver World. It’s almost identical to Brandish, except capran cities stand in place of elven cities. I never saw any other dwarves, and certainly no elves or humans except for Angrod and Heronimo.”

“What about halflings?”

“Oh, sure. But they’re everywhere.”

Indeed, even now the halflings all around us were quietly outnumbering everyone else.

“I thought there’d be more prostitutes,” Mina said.

“We don’t have time for that either.”

“I mean, I don’t see anyone who looks like it.”

“That’s not how it works here. Take a look at those flyers you’ve been collecting. The two-for-one looks like a bargain.”

“Oh. Oh.” We fell back into step. “So what’s the plan?”

“If I were alone I would be back on another ice yacht. But you told me you hired a team. A team of what, exactly?”

“Not mercenaries, certainly. A friend of mine set himself up as a knight-errant. He and his band have been wandering the countryside doing good deeds. I told him to wait for us at the Crippled Boar Inn. I don’t know where that is, but how hard could it be to meet him in an inn?”

Of course, this was Lamemheth, the city of second chances, where the entire merchant quarter is a red-light district. The Crippled Boar was an inn only in the sense that there were also rooms where gamblers could get a few hours’ sleep.

“Oh, dear,” Mina said. We stood at the head of the staircase that descended into the casino pit.

Virtually every elf has extrasensory and telekinetic abilities. Playing cards might as well be transparent. Dice are literally child’s play—toddlers enjoy making them float in the air. It goes without saying that every casino makes special arrangements.

Every single piece of equipment was dwarven-made. The dominoes couldn’t be teleported or transmuted. The slot machines and roulette tables were shielded and rigged with alarms. Floormen patrolled in pairs, scanning the players with normal vision and the Sight. There looked to be just fifty gaming tables and only a hundred one-armed bandits—a small casino to a Lamemhessian. Even so, it was a great deal of carpet to cover.

“How will we find your friend?” I asked Mina.

“We’ll circulate, I guess. Shouldn’t be too difficult to recognize him. After all, it’s only been sixteen years.”

I walked up to the bar. They had a good selection, from Corinthan ice wines to Vergaran spirits. “Whiskey on the rocks,” I said.

“Isn’t that a man’s drink?”

I turned and almost backed into the bar—it was a huge Northlander, fully seven feet tall and built like a stone wall.

I recovered. “Do I look like an umbrella-drink kind of girl?”

He shrugged massively. His arms and shoulders were covered in blue tattoos. “I meant no offense. And those drinks can be surprisingly strong.”

I tried to picture him holding a glass with a pineapple wedge and bendy straw. My imagination failed. “Tell you what, why don’t I buy you a cocktail?”

He bowed. “Gods forbid I refuse a drink from a pretty girl. Is there any way I can help you?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Aren’t we all.” He laughed. He was quite old, I saw, his face lined with the years. He was bald but bearded. It rested on a bare chest because he wore only a single fur, which wrapped around his waist and hung to his knees. It was secured with a massive belt.

“You were startled when you first saw me,” he said. “You hid it well, but I saw.”

“Bad memories. I fought a human your size. I defeated him, but at some cost. He was a bandit chief.”

He laughed. “A great victory! I’ll drink to that!” And in one massive hand he raised his umbrella drink.

I bought another round and we wandered from the bar. We found Mina getting up from a Sparrow table. I frowned. “Good game?”

“It was.” She gestured at the halfling beside her. “He’s one of the best players I’ve ever met.”

He grinned. He was very black. “You’re not bad yourself.” He looked at the Northlander. “Is that a mai tai?”

The Northlander raised his glass. “It is small, but surprisingly potent.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” To us he said, “Borlog prefers tankards, if not pitchers.”

The human patted his massive belly. “Makes pleasant dreams.”

They were an odd pair. The human was big and round, the halfling tall and lean. They carried themselves like fighting men and I saw their hands trying to rest on weapons that weren’t there. (As an unarmed combat specialist I had no problem with casino policy.)

A new set of players had taken up the Sparrow table. They were shuffling the tiles for another round, swirling them on the table with a sound like pebbles falling.

“Ever bucked the tiger, milady?” asked the halfling.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve lost the mood for games of skill,” he said. “And as it happens, I see a game of Tiger starting up.”

We walked to the black velvet table. Painted on its surface was an array of designs.

“Ten numbered tiles and four court tiles make one suit. There are four suits but only the suit of swords is represented. Twenty-two trump cards make thirty-six. Think of it as roulette with tiles. Choose a tile and watch as the dealer draws a pair. The first tile is the banker’s tile, or losing tile. All bets on it are lost. The second is the player’s tile, or winning tile. All bets on it are doubled. The house and the players are thus equally matched unless the winning and losing cards are the same number. Then the house takes half the bet.”

“Simple enough,” I said. “But I don’t know if we have the time. Mina…?”

“I’ll do it.” She started digging into her purse. “Look around you. It’s a slow day and we’re the largest group around. My man is sure to be drawn to us.”

“It’s also a fast game, in any case,” said the halfling. “And you can pull out anytime.”

“This is a game of pure chance,” I said. “None but fools trust to luck.”

He grinned. “I trust my luck completely. Or are you afraid to play with me?” He really was a rogue—I forgot we would be playing against the house and not each other.

I reached for my webbing. “You’re on.” We bought chips and markers and the dealer shuffled the tiles into rows of thirteen. He drew the first tile (The World) and discarded it, leaving seventy-seven tiles in play. “Gentlemen, ladies, you may punt.”

CHAPTER 16:
MEERWEN

Two and a half hours later and Mina was in trouble.

I’d played it safe at first. The Devil cost me ten rupees and the Seven of Swords cost me twenty. I put thirty on the Eight of Swords and doubled my losses instead of recouping them. I was about to give up when twenty-five rupees on The Moon came back fifty. Encouraged, I let them ride on the Ace of Cups—and cursed as the Ace of Swords turned up first. The house took half. I added fifty rupees to my original stake and placed my hopes on the Knight of Torches, who seemed dashing. He didn’t fail me, and I won seventy-five rupees. I was slightly ahead and withdrew from the game.

Mina, on the other hand, started with hundred-rupee bets that soon escalated into the thousands. She bet on the Six of Cups and Three of Cups and won both times, which emboldened her. Eyes shining, she bet on the Three of Swords—and that turned up the loser. She lost with the Eight of Cups. She won with the Chariot. She won with the Empress, but the stake had been so small it barely scratched her losses.

The halfling and the human had been joined by another friend, a dwarf, and the three of them bet as a team. They laughed when the Strength tile came up and whooped when it was The Emperor. They won again with the Eight of Coins and not even the next turn’s loss could ruin their mood.

Pretty waitresses served us drinks. Their pink corsets and high heels did things to the way they walked—the three men ordered drink after drink. Borlog downed one vodka martini after another but remained steady as a rock. I’d ordered Mina a watered wine. She needed the hydration. Her sideburn braids were limp and she dabbed at her face. “Please, Muradin, let me have this turn and I’ll finish this drink and never touch a tile again.” She continued to lose heavily.

Finally she reached for her purse and found it empty. “My sovrins! I’m out of pocket money!”

“So cut your losses,” I said. “Maybe see if we can get a free room.”

“But I’ve got to finish this game. The last turn pays four-to-one!”

“I saw a Bank of Brandish—”

“No time! Wait, I’ve got it!” She raised her shirt and pulled out a moneybelt. It was full of gold coins. “It’s for the reinforcements. I can always pay Angrod back.”

“What is taking so long?” asked the halfling. “Change your silver for ceramic, if you are not afraid to play with me.”

“It’s gold, actually,” I said. Mina bought chips before I could stop her.

She chose The Fool, and a fool’s luck was with her—it doubled her bet. The Five of Torches paid off as well, but the Ten of Swords wiped out her stake. She threw more money at the table but the Death tile was as unlucky as it looked. She was sweating and I passed her my handkerchief. It wouldn’t do for a lady to be seen sweating. “Yes!” She’d bet on the Hanged Man to lose, and lose he did. She bet on the King of Torches and that yielded a pile of chips. She had nearly recouped her losses. It looked like a good time to pull out.

But then the halfling tossed his hair back and laughed. Something glittered on his left ear—it was a gold hoop earring. “Well, and now it is the last turn.” He pointed at the discarded tiles, which had been arranged in order. “As you can see, three tiles remain, as well as the chance to quadruple your wager. Will you play?”

I glared at him. “You’ve been awfully lucky.”

His smile broadened. “And how could I, a powerless halfling, hope to cheat this casino? You know the saying, Lucky in love, unlucky at games? I lost everything I loved, so I take consolation where I can.”

“Enough. Play on if you must, but leave my friend alone.”

But Mina slowly picked up her marker and dropped it onto the table. “I bet everything. I say Nine of Coins, Ten of Cups, and The Tower.”

The halfling threw his marker as well. “And I say Nine of Coins, The Tower, and the Ten of Cups.”

Silence. Even the whores on the balcony were speechless.

The dealer moved with dreamlike slowness. He picked up the first tile, turned it over—it was the Nine of Coins. Everyone sighed. Then he turned over The Tower.

“Aah!” Mina screamed, lifting her hands to her head. The halfling, the human, and the dwarf leapt into each other’s arms. I wanted to beat them to death.

“Aah… aah… it can’t be. It can’t.” She leaned heavily against the table. I caught her arm. “Come, come.” I offered her a drink. “Surely that hasn’t ruined you.”

“It’s over. I’m lost. Just shoot me already.”

“I’m sure Angrod won’t mind that you’ve lost, er…” I glanced at the chips. The glass shattered in my hand. “Over nine thousand rupees?”

“I can afford it. But how am I to pay the man? Knight Errant or not, he’ll still want half up front.”

The halfling carried a tray of chips. “Why don’t you offer him an IOU? I’m sure he’d understand.” He looked at his winnings. The house hadn’t profited much. “I think I have enough operating funds to last awhile. It’s not every day that I get the marker of a dwarven princess.”

Mina shook herself and focused on the tall black halfling. “Conrad?”

“You said you’d recognize him.”

Mina grimaced. “How was I to guess that he’d become such a scoundrel? Halflings, man!”

“I’m sitting right here,” Conrad said.

He had insisted on treating us to dinner. Mina had been eager to put a few stiff drinks on his bill. Along the way he had introduced Zukaldi, his dwarven friend.

“I’m the sawbones,” he said. He’d snuck a hammer into the dining lounge.

Borlog laughed. “More like the shatterbones. Don’t let him hit you with that!”

“It is a healing hammer,” he said with dignity. “One side crushes, the other side mends.”

“Do you ever mix up the two?” I asked.

“… sometimes.”

Conrad explained that he had another man on his team, who was lodged elsewhere as a precaution. I nodded. Always good to have backup.