“There now, get your feet under you and walk it off,” Maran said gently. Danner was glad there was no undue sympathy in his voice. He felt bad enough showing such a lack of control before his friend and mentor. Then there was his uncle.
“Uncle, where’s my father?” Danner asked weakly. Maran helped him to his feet, and Danner looked up at his uncle questioningly.
“He’s back in Marash, Danner,” Birch answered. Before Danner could ask, Birch said, “We’re halfway to Demar.”
“How long was I asleep?” Danner asked groggily. He took a few staggering steps then stopped. A few tentative shakes of his head seemed to reorient the world, and Danner was able to stand steadily and take in their surroundings.
Demar was east of Marash, and he oriented on that direction because of the way the three horses were facing. To the north and south Danner saw the Thorn and Salka mountains. Between the road and the Thorn Mountains was the Grun Desert that ran nearly to the northern edge of the road. To the east, south, and west Danner saw fields of rolling green, with only a few sparse shrubs and trees to break the monotony of grass.
“It’s Niday now. You’ve been out for nearly two days,” Birch said. Danner blinked, having forgotten that he’d asked the question.
“Halfway to Demar in two days?” Danner asked. The journey normally took a week for a small caravan, his sluggish brain recalled. Knowing the shipping schedules for major trade routes was a key factor in Danner’s job with the Coalition.
“We’ve been traveling nonstop,” Maran supplied, and Danner finally noticed the weariness in the elf’s voice. “It’s nearly dusk and since you’re awake, we can stop for the night and have a decent meal and night’s sleep.”
“I didn’t mean to… I mean…” Danner fumbled a moment, appalled that they’d kept moving for so long while allowing him to remain asleep. Of course, the stiff ache in his chest indicated they hadn’t exactly been coddling him, but Danner didn’t think he was in much of a position to complain.
“You needed it, Danner,” Birch said, coming up to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, “and we wanted to put as much distance between us and Marash as quickly as possible. We’ll probably be off again at first light, or before if we’re well enough rested.”
Danner nodded.
“At least allow me to keep watch so the two of you can sleep,” Danner offered.
“I’m glad you volunteered,” Birch said, then he smiled. “Saves us the trouble of insisting you do it.”
- 3 -
The three stopped for the night in a field of large boulders, which Maran noted would provide some shelter from the road in the event Coalition soldiers overtook them during the night. The elf and paladin both thought it likely the Coalition had learned of their departure by now and would be sending someone to track them and sooner or later attack them. As soon as they unloaded their gear, Maran left in search of food.
Danner stared across the small campfire at his uncle. With Maran gone, Birch began polishing his shield, his fiery gaze intent on the task. The shield was unlike any Danner had seen before.
The shield was nearly four feet from top to bottom, with an eight-inch metal spike protruding from the bottom of the shield. It was about a foot and a half wide at the top and only a few inches wide where the shield met the spike, but a foot or so down from the top there was a wide beam that marred the otherwise triangular shape. Set in the center of the beam was a fist-sized, brass disk. Had the beam not been of one piece with the rest of the shield, Danner would have thought the disk held it in place.
A two-barred cross painted in brilliant crimson dominated the front of the shield: the holy symbol. The Tricrus. The long vertical line was trisected by the shorter horizontal lines, and this depiction had stylized clover-like buds on the ends of all three lines. The brass disk Danner had noticed was set in the upper intersection of lines – with a matching, purely decorative duplicate on the lower intersection – and the entire symbol was outlined in polished brass. Birch was wiping the metal with a cloth blackened by polish residue.
“If you’re curious, you can ask, Danner,” Birch said without looking up. Danner jumped in surprise, then stood and walked closer to his uncle.
“I don’t know that I’ve seen another shield like that, uncle,” he said, unsure where to start.
“It’s a design originated by the paladins,” Birch replied, never taking his attention from polishing the shield. “There have been some adaptations by other groups, but for the most part it remains – like so many other things – unique to our order.”
“Why the bar here?” Danner asked, indicating the crossbeam on the shield.
In answer, Birch paused long enough to turn the shield over on its face. On the backside, Danner saw the straps for Birch’s arm were positioned on the crossbeam, set directly behind the round disk. A small, leather-wrapped handle was placed on the right edge of the beam, and another a foot below the twin strips of leather.
“I’m borrowing this shield from the armory in Nocka, since I lost my own,” Birch explained, “but it’s close enough to my previous one that it’s comfortable. An old friend of mine in Nocka is having a new one forged to my specifications.”
“And the second handle? The lower one.” Danner asked, pointing.
Birch smiled. “One of the more innovative uses of this design.”
With a twist of Birch’s arm, Danner found himself staring down the length of his uncle’s shield, the metal spike only inches from his throat. Birch’s arm was pointed straight forward and the shield acted like an extension. Backing away slowly, Danner ducked beneath the shield and saw that the upper disk was actually a swivel to which the leather straps were attached, allowing Birch’s arm to shift and grasp the grip that was lower on the shield. This turned the shield from a defensive tool to an offensive weapon.
“Hence the spike,” Danner said aloud.
“Well, the spike does serve other functions,” Birch replied, lifting the shield away from above Danner. With a grunt, Birch drove the shield spike-first into the ground, then slipped his hand free with a practiced motion. “If you want to use your sword two-handed but don’t want to drop your shield to the ground, this makes a nice alternative. That is, assuming you have the time to get your arm free.
“If you do it wrong, you’re likely to twist your arm and leave yourself vulnerable to an enemy attack,” Birch said. “The same goes when you’re retrieving your shield.”
“Where was the shield when we were in the Coalition dungeon?” Danner asked.
“In a cheap hostel, in an even cheaper room,” Birch said wryly. “I hadn’t anticipated the need for it.”
“Is that why you didn’t have your sword, too?” Danner asked, thinking he now knew why his uncle had carried a wooden blade. Involuntarily, his eyes went to Birch’s waist, and he saw the paladin still carried only the wooden sword.
“No, the bowkur is the only blade I will allow myself to wield until my own blade is reforged,” Birch said solemnly.
“What happened to it?”
“I don’t remember.”
Birch was silent a moment, then he reached into a leather sack lying next to him. He withdrew a deck of Dividha cards and two hand-sized tablets. He proffered the deck and one tablet toward Danner.
“Game?”
- 4 -
Danner lifted his cards[25] from the rock they were using as a table and inwardly grimaced. The first card he saw in his hand was the six of demi-humans, and Danner suffered a strong pang of guilt at the picture of a Dale gnome. The representation only bore a passing resemblance to Faldergash, who was overweight for the normally scrawny gnomes, but the racial characteristics were enough that Danner had to tighten his eyes to prevent a reaction that would reveal his inner pain.
He shuffled the Dale to the back to hide it, and glanced at the other card he’d been dealt.
San, the Jack of the Heaven suit. The artist who’d created Birch’s deck had a perfect eye for detail an
d a flawless talent for creating realistic depictions of the card personas. Seeing the realistic representation of the full moon over a silvery cloud, Danner resisted the urge to glance up into the night sky make sure the moon still hung above him and hadn’t fallen and been caught on the card. San was waxing almost full now, while Sin was only slightly less full. The two moons appeared the same size in the sky, but Sin had a much shorter cycle than its counterpart. San would reach a full-moon state first, but Sin would begin to wane more quickly.
Too late, Danner realized he’d been staring at the moons in spite of himself. He nonchalantly looked back at the cards in his hand, hoping Birch wouldn’t read his interest in the moons as anything more than mindless gazing.
Danner’s cards weren’t the most promising beginning, but he’d seen worse. Only two hands ago, he’d been dealt the Alethion and the Dena-Fol,[26] two cards that were completely useless together, since they were in different immortal suits, not to mention exact opposites. Of course, he’d still managed to come out ahead of his uncle on that game by betting to lose.
That was the beauty of playing Dividha - even if you lost, you could win. If you were smart.
“First bet,” Birch said, his glowing eyes intent on his own cards.
Danner knew his cards weren’t terribly strong, and he was tempted to lead off by betting high toward losing. But it was still the first deal, so instead he scratched a two into both the “win” and “lose” columns. That done, he threw four pebbles into the bowl they were using to hold the bets. They weren’t playing with the dwarven variant that included an extra round of betting before any cards were dealt, usually called the Demon’s Wager. Some players, other than dwarves, liked to, but Danner had never been one for betting before seeing his cards. The ante was the only money Danner ever put in blind.
“That bad a hand?” Birch asked mildly, baiting him. His uncle couldn’t see the tablet on which Danner had written his bet, nor could Danner see Birch’s tablet. Bets were kept hidden until the end.
By now, Danner was becoming used to his uncle’s playing habits, and he ignored the paladin. Birch occasionally made such small comments, fishing for some reaction from his opponent. Danner was forced to admit privately how poorly he’d reacted to his uncle’s tactic for the first hour or so of playing. Once he caught on, though, Danner had maintained his bearing and let nothing slip.
At least he didn’t think he had. Birch was still over two dozen pebbles ahead of Danner in the game, a small fortune had they been playing with real money.
“Well then, I’ll leave the bet there,” Birch said, tossing four of his own stones in as he marked on his tablet. “Ready?”
Danner nodded, and Birch dealt each of them two cards, this time face up. Danner received the knight – the Jack of Men – and Min, one of the three sixes of the Hell suit. That left him with two Jack cards of differing suits, and two sixes of differing suits. Unfortunately, since cards from each pair were in differing immortal suits, he could not use them together. The smart call was to keep the Jacks.
Cards in the Heaven suit could be paired with any other cards for a hand, except for cards from the Hell suit. The Syncretic Rule prevented immortal cards from opposite suits from being played anywhere in the same hand together. The only exceptions were, of course, the Angel of Death and Kaelus.
As if the mere thought of the card had been enough to summon it, Danner glanced at Birch’s table cards and saw his uncle had been dealt Kaelus, the Devil’s Deuce. Next to it was the artisan – the Four of Men – and while they were close together, Danner was glad it wasn’t a card from the Heaven suit.[27] Of course, Birch could always have at least one Heaven card in his hand that Danner couldn’t see.
When the second chance to bet came around, Danner checked the bet to his uncle, and Birch left the bet at zero.
“Trade?” Birch asked. Danner nodded and put his Dale gnome face-down on the rock, then flipped over the Min card.
“One and one,” he said.
Birch dealt one card face up and one face down to Danner. He nearly grimaced when he saw his cards. The dakkan and Sal: the Ace of Beasts and yet another of the three sixes of Hell. Both of the sixes had been face-up, where Birch could see them.
“Well, I guess that means neither of us will be Hunting The Three then, eh?” Birch said, humor in his voice.
“Guess not, uncle,” Danner replied a bit sourly.
The three sixes of Hell were one of the most powerful combinations in the game, but very difficult to gain. Having all three effectively made all the non-Heaven cards in your hand switch to the Hell suit. That gave a player an immediate pure hand, and even left the possibility for a Pure Five-of-a-Kind, the most powerful combo in the game since possessing all three Hell sixes was the only way to do it.
Many a player had found himself with two of the three sixes and spent his other cards seeking the third, only to find it in the hand of an opponent. At one time the practice became so widespread that it was officially dubbed “Hunting The Three,” and became synonymous with the phrase, “wild goose chase.”
Despite the improbability of getting all three, Danner couldn’t help but feel a bit put out that he’d let even the mere possibility slip through his fingers.
Birch turned his Kaelus card face down on the rock, followed by a card from his hand, then took two more from the deck. The first he took into his hand, and the second went face up beside the artisan. Danner saw it was the faerer; the Five of Beasts. That left his uncle with a four and five of differing suits. A relatively worthless combination unless he had other cards in his hand to potentially complete a straight or full house.
“Third bet.”
Danner glanced up at his uncle, but the paladin’s face was as unreadable as ever. Danner had learned not to trust any hints or tells on his uncle’s face, since the man apparently had near-perfect control over his expression. Twice, what Danner had thought to be subtle “tells” turned out to be pure deception on his uncle’s part.
Again, Danner checked the bet, hoping for some indication of his uncle’s hand based on how he would bet. He didn’t think Birch would let a second round of zero-betting happen, and he was right. The paladin made a quick notation on his tablet and threw three pebbles in the middle. Conservative, but not overtly so, given the first round of betting. Birch might be trying to sucker Danner with a low bet.
With a pair of Jacks, Danner at least had some power in his hand. He marked five notches in the win column and none in the loss column. He threw his pebbles in the bowl and stared expectantly at his uncle.
“I’ll raise the bet to five,” he said evenly.
Birch stared speculatively at his cards a moment, then jotted a quick notation on his tablet and threw three more pebbles in the bowl, bringing his bet to a total of six stones. Danner frowned.
The increased bet could either mean that Birch had a poor hand and was betting to lose, or else he could be keeping his bet to win because he had a good hand but didn’t want to scare Danner off by raising it too much. For all that Danner liked the ability to lose and come out ahead in Dividha, reading your opponent’s bet was all but impossible against someone like Birch who revealed nothing.
Danner marked another bet in the win column to match his uncle’s and threw a pebble into the bowl.
“I’ll call,” he said simply, trying not to give anything away.
“Ready?” Birch asked. Danner nodded, and his uncle dealt their final two cards face-down. Danner fought to contain his excitement when he lifted his cards and saw the God card – a blazing light atop a gilded throne. One of two wild cards, Satan and God were also the most powerful cards in the game when paired with a good hand, thanks to Providence: having a wild card in a combination automatically made it the best of its level. A two-of-a-kind with the Two of Beasts and the God card would beat any two-of-a-kind in the game, even a pair of Aces. Any three-of-a-kind would still beat the pair of deuces, but with a stronger combination... Danner smiled slightl
y.
In some variations, possessing both wild cards made one automatically win, but Danner had never really liked that rule. Divine Intervention, it was called. He’d heard of men betting everything to win on a strong hand and then losing it to the infallible combo. Of course, that’s why they called it gambling.
With a blink, Danner looked past the God card and saw the he’d also been dealt the Ace of Men – the paladin. This left him with two Aces, two Jacks, and the wild God card, giving him a nearly unbeatable full house. He withheld a smile.
Birch meanwhile had lifted his cards, glanced at them once, then immediately collapsed his cards into his hands and sat impassively staring at Danner, as was his habit. Each of them had four cards in-hand and two on the table.
“Final bet,” Birch said.
Since Birch was the dealer this hand, the initial bet still belonged to Danner, for which he was thankful. It meant he would be the last one to play his cards down, and he wanted to see his uncle’s hand before playing his own.
Danner marked a dozen under the winning column and nothing in the losing one. That drained the last of his pebbles, but he was confident the wild card would let him win.
“I’m all in,” Danner said, his expression neutral.
Birch raised his eyebrows in surprise when Danner tossed his last twelve pebbles in the bowl, but said nothing. He frowned to himself, then shrugged and threw a handful of his own pebbles in the bowl, more than Danner had put in himself. That was enough to make Danner sit up straight, though he knew Birch could very well have marked everything down in the lose column. If so, Danner wouldn’t see a single pebble Birch had just thrown in.
In many places, betting more money than your opponent had left was against the rules of the game, but that was a predominantly southern trend. In the northern rules, it was politely considered mere bad form. When people weren’t being polite, they generally called it sheer stupidity. A player had nothing to gain from it, and everything to lose. Birch was quite possibly trying to end the game, one way or another, in this one hand. It wasn’t a strategy for long-term success, but then again, they were playing with rocks as currency.
Hunting The Three (The Barrier War) Page 11
