Casket of Souls

He wanted a look at the letter Reltheus had gotten from the scribe.
    Alec leveled an accusing finger at him and whispered, “I’m
not
getting drunk again!”
    Seregil grinned, making no promises. “And did you and Elani have an interesting conversation?”
    “We did. She more or less admitted that her heart is set on Danos. According to her, he’s not only handsome, but a poet and an excellent archer. And he makes her laugh.”
    “Good marriages have been made on less. What about the attentive young officer today?”
    “Apparently her mother thinks highly of him, and keeps throwing him and others in the princess’s way. It didn’t sound like anything more than that.” Alec shook his head. “It’s going to ruin Danos’s chances, isn’t it, if his father’s arrested?”
    “I expect so.”
    Alec cast a sad look back in the direction of Elani’s chambers. “If she really does love him, that will break her heart.”
    “It’s duty first for royalty, Alec. So long as she makes a respectable marriage and produces a girl baby or two, she can take a second consort when she likes, or lovers. Even Danos.”
    “It’s not the same, though, is it?”
    “No, talí, it’s not,” Seregil said, taking his hand. Alec hadn’t been much older than Elani was now when he’d fallen in love with Seregil, and Seregil with him. If they’d been separated by circumstance? He shook off the dark thought. “But we didn’t make this mess; Reltheus did.”

 
    “M Y lord, it’s said that there is no way to cheat at bakshi, so I can only assume you are using magic,” Duke Foris growled that evening as Seregil slapped down one of his carnelian pieces and captured the duke’s spear.
    The Three Dragons gambling house stood a few doors down from the Drake and was even more opulent, attracting a clientele made up of higher-ranking nobles. Young Selin had been invited, as well, and several other nobles Seregil knew only slightly; General Sarien was also there in the crowd that had gathered to watch the battle being played out between Seregil and Foris. Seregil’s reputation was well known up and down the Street of Lights, as was that of Foris, a young rake with a reputation of his own—one that had gotten the man banned from several of the brothels here in the Street, including Eirual’s, as it happened. Seregil was enjoying besting the man very much.
    “No magic, Your Grace, just Illior’s luck,” Alec drawled, leaning on the back of Seregil’s chair.
    “I’ve played him enough myself to agree, Foris,” Reltheus told the man. “He’s just damn good, and lucky.”
    “It’s all right,” Seregil said, sliding one of his carnelian pieces into place in front of Foris’s lapis one to blunt another spear. Picking up the captured stones one by one, he glanced up at the duke with a cold smile. “I’m sure it wasn’t your intent to impugn my honor.”
    The duke, however, was a little drunk and not put off by the veiled threat. Lord Seregil was better known for avoidingduels than fighting them. “Nine rounds in a row? You must have a charm on you somewhere!”
    A murmur went through the crowd; it was a serious charge.
    Seregil leaned back in his chair and spread his arms. “Search me, Your Grace. I swear by Illior you’ll find nothing of the sort.” He looked around at the crowd with the slightly inane grin he affected when dealing with situations like this among the nobles. “Why, the rest of you can wager on it, but I say your money is best laid on me!”
    “I’ll take that wager. Have him strip!” one of the ladies cried, holding up her silk purse, and the cry was quickly taken up by the crowd.
    Foris’s smile was mean. “Yes, I’ll take that wager. Fifty gold sesters says he has a luck piece or mark on him. What say you, Lord Seregil? Will you stand by your offer?”
    “I suppose I must,” Seregil said with a shrug.
    “You can’t be serious!” Reltheus murmured, raising a surprised eyebrow.
    “It’s a matter of honor,” Seregil said firmly.
    “But how will we know it?” the general asked. “A charm could be anything. Is there a wizard here?”
    “Here’s one!” someone at the back of the crowd shouted.
    Old Reneus, one of the senior Orëska wizards, was none too pleased to be pressed into service for such a menial task, but with some cajoling and a fresh cup of wine he finally consented.
    “Now you’ve done it,” Alec muttered as Seregil handed him his sword belt and pulled off his