When Heledd comes out to the bar floor, Tric catches her attention. “Our mutual friend is upstairs,” he tells her. She starts to pass Tric by, but he holds her for a moment longer. “Uh, he’s recovering, but he’s all right,” he adds.
Heledd frowns at him. “That’s an awfully vague and ill-boding statement.”
Tric shrugs. “You know how things are with him,” he says. “If I had good news to share, that would be suspicious.” Heledd allows that he has a point. “And you should bring him up a bread bowl,” Tric adds, knowing Heppa wants to plump up her patient.
“I’m not going upstairs as a waitress,” Heledd says levelly.
“Oh, there is another matter. I’d like to engage your guide services later.”
“A hundred coins a night,” Heledd throws over her shoulder as she brushes past Tric for the stairs. She does not volunteer any information she gathered on her trip home through the tunnels last night.
“Say ‘hi’ for me,” Tric calls after her. “I’ll, uh, be happy to settle terms later. I know that’s not how much you’re making here!”
Heledd pauses at the foot of the staircase for a moment, “Well this isn’t guide service through a dangerous place,” she counters before disappearing up the steps.
“It’s plenty dangerous here,” Tric mutters to himself. “I got punched here. By her.”
Business starts to pick up in the Parting Glass, and soon Haskel comes out of the kitchen with a loaded tray. Tric flags him down. “Does this place have a deck of cards?” he asks.
“I don’t think the house does, but I do,” Haskel says.
“Oh! Do you fancy yourself a card player, sir?”
“I have been known to shuffle a deck or two in my time,” Haskel replies modestly.
“It’s not too busy. Would you care to play a hand?”
Haskel glances around. No customers seem to need anything right now, and Heledd is not around to give him any trouble. “Pick an alcove,” he tells Tric. He quickly delivers the food and drink on his tray, reserving two mugs for him and Tric, and then slips behind the curtains himself. While Haskel lights the candles, Mate settles on a perch above. Tric asks to see the deck and takes a moment to flip through the server’s cards, suspecting they might be marked. Sure enough, they are. He continues flipping through the cards, while reciting, “We elves are known for our dance. / Through the forest we love to prance. / We move through the glade / As though on the edge of the blade. / But you see, we leave nothing to chance.” Through the magic of the silver tongue, the cards are now marked favorably for Tric instead.
Tric hands over the deck, and Haskel shuffles the cards, then deals them out. The players are quiet in the first round, Tric nibbling on a piece of jerky and Haskel getting the measure of his opponent. Haskel wins the hand and deals the cards out again. Tric and Mate yodel back and forth at each other a bit. While it might seem innocent to the observer, they are in fact communicating about Haskel’s cards.
“Who let this bird in?” Haskel asks.
“You know about aviary, right?” Tric asks back.
A few more cards slap down on the table, and Haskel leans back, a wide smile on his face. “Look at me, playing a game with the celebrated Tric Manu. No one back home will ever believe that I played with someone so famous!”
“Famous, yes. There’s things that I have to do in this life,” Tric says with false modesty. “Things that must be done, and done in the right way. No one wants to be infamous,” he adds, thinking of Anador’s mixed legacy.
Haskel wins this hand, too. Tric shakes his head at himself and drops the illusion from the deck. “You never needed the marks on these cards at all, did you?” he asks, impressed by the double bluff. “They were just to make me think you did.”
Haskel laughs. “Ah, so the marks were convincing enough, then,” he says, pleased to engage in conversation with someone who can appreciate the artistry involved.
“Yes, you beat me fair and square, relatively speaking. Ten coins to the victor,” Tric says, handing over the cash. “Your game worked out today, but I know it doesn’t always. I can help with that,” Tric offers. He has sensed no malice from Haskel; the fellow probably just feels forced to be an informant. “I can help you get back on your feet so that you won’t have to take the least job you can get. And I don’t mean working here.” Haskel mulls this over for a moment, and Tric presses on, “I never intended to win the card game. That was just to get you and me together for a private chat.”
Haskel raises an eyebrow. “I think you did intend to win the game. That’s why you brought the second set of eyes with you.” He nods at Mate, who has relocated to Tric’s shoulder.
“You didn’t need the cards marked; I didn’t need to win that game,” Tric insists. “Now, I happen to know of a noble who takes a shine to people with some repartée… perhaps you also have some fencing work?” Tric imagines Lady Glynnis would be delighted to watch Gwaffalyn and Haskel spar with words or blades. “She could use someone with your way with words. But! I understand there’s something of a spectre hanging over you.” Tric intentionally uses the loaded word.
Haskel nods. “It’s true… In search of other sources of income and also indebted to certain individuals, I have been on the lookout for you. It seems that those on the other side of your stories don’t always appreciate your wit and skill.”
“Well, perhaps they don’t have the full story about the betrayal of one of their own lieutenants,” Tric says, thinking of Sleidr. “But I can clarify that.”
“As it happens, there is a former Rat who bears you ill will and has been hanging out in the tunnels,” Haskel shares. “She has amassed a certain following of her own that might mean you ill.”
“Would she be one of some strength of arms, would you say?”
“She can, indeed, be quite persuasive with her fists,” Haskel agrees.
Realizing now that this must be Efa, the Rat arrested when they ambushed Sleidr, Tric nods. “All right, that’s fair. That’s an understandable misunderstanding.”