Chapter 5 Part 4

"You're bluffing," Keeneye accused.

Norwind smiled, "Then call me."

Ultrecht listened only half-heartedly as the two elves indulged themselves in a game of poker. He knew Norwind was bluffing. The odds were easily calculated by the laws of probability. But, he also knew that given a chance, Keeneye would outsmart himself and that was what Norwind was betting on.

Ultrecht's primary attention was on the stage of the tavern they were staying in. They had arrived three days ago after traveling through the mountains a great deal southward. They had been told that the next ship southward on which they could book passage would arrive the next morning, but due to weather, it may not depart until the following day. So to pass the time, they had made themselves comfortable and taken part in the town's rich gambling industry.

On the stage a prestidigitator was demonstrating various sleight-of-hand tricks that had Ultrecht's interest. There was no magic involved, that much was obvious. But the smooth skill in which the performer created his illusions was admirable.

Samson was in another room listening to musicians. The music helped him to relax. "Soothing the savage beast," Marlena had once called it. It also gave him time to reflect.

He was in a strange land with two of his closest friends dead and a third lost with his wife as well as the halfelves. He felt little assurance that his wife's safety was undoubtedly in good hands. Her condition was anything but reassuring. That and the knowledge that they were being pursued off and on by different parties had him looking over his shoulder more often than should be necessary. Too many coincidences had made him paranoid. It had made them all paranoid.

Samson signaled a waitress over to his table and ordered another drink. He had lost count of how many that made. But since he was tipping the maiden heavily, she was keeping her eye on him awaiting his every beck and call.

Samson also noted that she was being very suggestive and friendly. He easily understood the unspoken language. She was hoping for him to proposition her for the night and a price. In his younger day, before Marlena, he might have eagerly accepted. But now, even though she suffered from the loss of memory, he still could not bring himself to be unfaithful to Marlena.

In a rush the test of the Oracle came back to him. The experience at the dam and the prophetic words that had been revealed by the dragon sent a chill down his spine. Enough was enough, and Samson decided that he was ready to leave.

He finished his drink and left the table. The maiden saw him leave and Samson noted she had a slightly disappointed look on her face. He did not want to disappoint her too much so he left a sizable tip almost equal to a night's wages. When she returned with his drink, he paid her handsomely and told her he was very tired and that he appreciated her service. He left her and went in search of the others.

Samson found Keeneye at a table with several others. He was throwing dice and losing.
"You've lost again, sir," the man to Keeneye's left stated flatly. "Do you wish to try again?"

"No," Keeneye shook his head sadly. "All I have left is my fare money to Allentown. I'll just have to quit and watch the other games." He saw Samson approach and he walked away from the table to join him. "Cripes, I love this place," he whispered excitedly. "I haven't made this much money in years."

"You have been winning heavily?" Samson asked.

Keeneye shook his head. "Haven't won a single game all night," he replied.

"I thought you said you had made money," Samson said confused.

"Exactly," Keeneye replied.

"What?"

"There are so many people crowded around those tables that light fingers can reap great rewards," he explained.

"You've been robbing these people blind?"

"Not quite blind," Keeneye laughed. "I have to admit that I have relieved most of the people here of about half of what they had, but I wouldn't clean anyone out." Keeneye struck a pose. "As the guild master once said: 'One is less likely to think one has been robbed if one spends the last of his money himself. On the other hand, if one finds an empty purse where before it had been half full, one tends to get suspicious'."

Samson laughed. "Well, how much have you made?"

"Enough to have to get it changed into gems," Keeneye grinned and held out a handful of glittering stones. He glanced around surveying the casino. "That is what is so good about this place. Everyone expects to lose money here, so when someone goes broke it doesn't surprise them. So what if they don't remember exactly how much they spent and where they spent it."

"What about your employer?"

Keeneye smiled. "When the cat's away..."

"Yeah, well Armegon isn't a cat," Samson warned. "If he finds out you are still playing at your old profession, he is liable to cut your hand off and let you live without it for a few weeks before regenerating it."

"Oh," Keeneye said frowning, "and how will he find out?"

"Hey, my lips are sealed, but playing with Armegon is like playing with fire."

"I am not worried about that. Living on the edge just makes life more exciting."

Samson clapped the elf on the shoulder. It was very hard, after all, he reminded himself, for a leopard to change his spots. "Where's Norwind?" Samson asked changing the subject.

"He decided to spend the night in the company of some girl he met earlier," Keeneye informed him.

"Is she on the level?" Samson was genuinely concerned. He didn't think it was a good idea for Norwind to run off with the first woman he saw, especially when it had become all too obvious that someone wanted them dead.

"I think so," Keeneye replied. "Why, do you think he may be in trouble?"

"I am not sure. Did he come on to her or did she single him out?"

"I think he picked her up."

Samson rubbed his eyes. His vision was little blurry. How many drinks did he have he wondered to himself. "I am sure he will be fine then," Samson said wearily. Had she singled Norwind out she might have been an assassin on hire, but the fact that Norwind pursued her made them all feel a little better.

"Hey," Keeneye said noticing Samson's state, "you need to find a bed yourself."

Samson yawned. "I think you are right."

"Why don't you go on and get some sleep," Keeneye said herding the big man towards the stairs leading up to the rooms they had rented. "I'll go see what mischief Ultrecht has gotten into." Samson nodded and waved a weary farewell.

Ultrecht was eating a piece of cake in the tavern part of the casino when Keeneye found him. The elf sat opposite him at the table and pulled a smoking pipe from his belt pouch. Filling it with dark green grindings, he lit it and took a few puffs.

"Where are the others?" Ultrecht asked.

"They both went to bed," Keeneye said between puffs.

"It must be well before midnight," Ultrecht said. "Why did they go to bed so early?"

"Well," Keeneye said with a grin, "only Samson went to sleep."

Ultrecht lifted one eyebrow. "Did Norwind find himself a squeeze for the night?"

"Yep." Keeneye saw the look of curiosity cross the mage's face. "It's okay," he assured him. "He went after her. I don't think she set him up."

"Was she good looking?"

"Not by a long shot," Keeneye laughed. "But as sauced as Norwind was, he probably thinks she is a goddess."

"That bad, eh?"

"Well if I woke up one morning with her in my arms I would consider amputating them to keep from waking her."

"Hoo-boy," Ultrecht whooped and slapped the table. "Tomorrow is going to be one entertaining day."

Keeneye grinned slyly. "Bet on it."

The next morning Norwind awoke from his drunken stupor. The figure in the bed beside him stirred in sleep but did not awake. He arose and walked over to the wash basin. Glancing in the mirror, he saw the shapely figure in the bed shift slightly and the sheet dropped enough to reveal the long red hair of his companion flowing gently down a creamy white back.

The chivalrous thing to do was to gently awaken his lover and treat her to breakfast before bidding her good-bye, so Norwind returned to bed and cuddled up behind his guest. Reaching around her waist, he softly caressed her belly and let his hand slide down to her... Instantly, he froze as his hand encountered something he had definitely not expected.

A million thoughts raced through his mind. But at last, Norwind decided that the best course of action was to cease to exist. Slowly, he removed himself from the once tender embrace. Without a doubt, he did not want to awaken the sleeping person in bed with him.

Monk, thief, assassin or hunter, no person in all the world made less noise than Norwind when he quickly and quietly dressed and cracked the door to see if anyone was in the hallway. Seeing that it was deserted, Norwind compose himself with as much dignity as he could muster then vacated the room with such rapidity that he left partial vacuum behind.

The others were enjoying a morning meal when Norwind descended into the tavern. "Good morning," he greeted them.

"Good morning to you too," Samson smiled. "We hear you engaged in some after hours entertainment last night."

Norwind swallowed. "Well..."

"We also hear," Keeneye interrupted, "that she had a face that would drive a dragon from his hoard." Everyone broke into a fit of giggling everyone that is, but Norwind.

"Okay," Norwind said exasperated. "I, er, well that is. Oh! I give up!" Caught, Norwind joined in the merriment. He'd rather they think he had spent the night with an ugly woman than with what he had awakened to.

"Did the ship come in this morning?" Samson asked as the laughter died down.

"She came in just before sunrise," Keeneye informed him. "The storm that hit late yesterday south of here has broken, so the wharf master said that our passage to Allentown may get underway this afternoon. The ship is called The Razor III. The captain's name is Cuick."

"What kind of passage did you purchase?" Ultrecht asked.

"First class berthing, of course," Keeneye smiled. "Samson picked up the tab from the treasure he got from his morhulk.

"That is morhulks," Samson corrected stressing the plural.

"How many were there?"

"How many times must I tell you?" Samson complained. "There were twenty-seven.