“Are you hungry? Why don’t I get you a plate while you mull this over.”
He nodded gratefully, but his stomach was wrenching. The serving girl put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze. “How about some Silvan wine, too. You look like you need it even more.” She gave him a wink and looked back at the bar towards the Drugaen. The earrings she wore gave off a musical sound as she motioned for him to join them.
The Drugaen stared at her, nodded, and hopped off the barstool. He was a big fellow, thick around the wrists with big meaty hands. Approaching the table, he tossed the worn deck of Bones on the table and gave Thealos a warm smile. “Hello.”
“Flent, this is Thealos,” the serving girl said, folding her arms over the plate. “Play a round of Bones with him while I fetch his dinner.” She nodded towards the table with the Crimson Wolfsmen, and Flent winked and pursed his lips, some silent communication passing between them.
The din in the tavern was washed lower when the owner raised his voice. “Flent!” the bar owner howled. “What are you wasting your time over there for? Fetch that grain bag from the stores like I told you to.”
The Drugaen shrugged his shoulders and started tapping his boot on the leg of the chair. He gave Thealos a wizened look. “He’ll forget I’m here in a minute. Nice to meet you, Thealos.” He offered his big hand and gave Thealos a hearty shake. “My name’s Flent Shago. You know how to play Bones?”
“I’ve never played,” Thealos replied, watching as the serving girl approached the bar owner and whispered something to him. Thealos then glanced back in the corner of the room at the knight. He was leaning back in his chair, watching Thealos intently. He sipped slowly from a large mug of ale. Thealos folded his hands on the table. “Why don’t you show me.”
Flent started flipping the cards clumsily. It was a trick, Thealos recognized. The large fumbling hands, the ignorant pretense. Jaerod had already warned him. But Thealos kept back his own smile. He’d never played Bones himself. But he’d watched enough games played out in Dos-Aralon to know the rules.
*
Thealos lathered some butter on the rich slice of round bread. He took a few bites and set it down on the platter next to the stew. The Drugaen took a long sip from a mug of Spider Ale. He stared at the cards in his hands and then flipped over two, laying down a matching set.
Thealos nodded approvingly and flicked over an Aralonian piece. “Two shells in a row. You’re pretty good at this.”
The stocky Drugaen shrugged, finishing off the ale. “I play now and then. Mostly with sailors and Sheven-Ingen pirates.” He patted the axe at his belt and gave Thealos a shrewd wink. “Did you come in down-river from Avisahn?”
Thealos nodded, taking another sip of Silvan wine. It came from the Radstill vineyards. A good name. Glancing over, he watched Ticastasy approach again with a fresh cup for Flent. Her jewelry tinkled softly as she sat down and joined them, sliding the mug over to her friend.
“Roye says no more games unless you’re winning.” She gave Thealos a playful grin and brushed the long dark hair over one ear. “I don’t think your friends are planning to leave soon. It’s dark outside now. Maybe Flent can help you sneak out back, unless a Shaden can see in the dark like a Drugaen can.”
“I saw you over there talking to them,” Thealos said cautiously, ignoring her suggestion.
She nodded. “They’re definitely your race,” she said, “Though they’re trying to hide it. They have weapons. Like yours.”
“Like mine?”
“The blade you’re hiding in your cloak,” she said, her gaze level with his. Her eyebrows arched. “Is that why they are after you? Did you steal it?”
Thealos shook his head slowly. “No, they want me, not my weapon.” He rubbed his thumb along the lip of the wine cup. “I’m waiting for…a friend,” he said delicately. “If you can get me out of here safely, I’ll make it worth the trouble.”
Flent nodded and shrugged without concern. “There are only four. We can handle it.”
Thealos chuckled under his breath. “You have no idea who they are. One of them could turn that knight on his ear.”
“I doubt that,” the serving girl said, unimpressed. “He’s a Knight of the Blade.” Ticastasy looked at him probingly. “But if they’re as good as you’re boasting, Shaden, you must be pretty banned important. Who are you?”