Inked

wanting to get this over with.
    Trillian motioned for me to follow him inside. The tent was a two-room affair, with the main room taken up by the den. There were two low-rise tables, around which sat a dozen men—six at each table. I glanced over the crowd and there he was. Roche.
    His eyes were glazed and he looked rough, his face covered with stubble, his hair unkempt, and his clothes filthy. Worse yet, he was stinking up the place. I wondered how long it had been since he’d had a bath. A pile of coins sat in front of him and he toyed with them, rolling them over and over in his hand.
    Trillian sauntered up to the table and spoke to the dealer, who nodded curtly and pointed to a chair. As he sat down, he motioned for me to stand behind him. As I slowly crossed the floor, my gaze demurely pointed at my feet, something felt off. Very off. As though hidden eyes were watching me.
    I leaned over Trillian’s shoulder to whisper to him but then stopped. Roche was still turning over the coins in his hand, but his gaze was firmly fastened on me. Catching my breath, I placed a hand on Trillian’s shoulder, squeezing in the hope that he’d get my message that something was up.
    “In or out?” the dealer asked him.
    Trillian tossed a few coins on the table. “In.”
    Roche glanced down at the pile of coins in front of him and anted up, then added twenty pen more. The bets went round the table, with each player meeting or raising the bet. Roche held up the dice and pitched them on the table. Out of five dice, they landed a total of twenty-one pips. He frowned as the dealer jotted down the number. Round the table they went, each man taking his turn. By the time Trillian was up, Roche was still the leader. Trillian scooped up the dice and neatly tossed them. They rebounded off the bumper on the other side and came up four sixes and a three.
    “Twenty-seven. You’re the current leader. What’s your pleasure? Let stand or bet for the second round?”
    Trillian shook his head. “Stand.”
    Roche snorted. “That the best you can do, Svartan?” He tossed another three coins on the pot. “Re roll.” The dice came his way and he shook them in his hand, blowing on them for luck, then tossed them.
    The dealer grunted. “Twenty-three pips. Still under. Next?”
    Roche slammed his hand on the table but said nothing as the other four players took their turns. Two walked out, their pockets clean. The other two bet again but neither one hit the mark and they both folded.
    Trillian glanced at Roche. He could either match what had been added to the pot and toss again for the third and final round, or he could stand on his mark and see if Roche bested him.
    “Stand,” he said, giving Roche a faint grin that bordered on patronizing.
    That’s the way, I thought. Push him over the edge.
    Roche took the bait. He motioned to the dealer. “Kysa.” As he lit up the hookah the dealer offered him, he glanced at me again. “What would you think of a higher wager—just between us? I’m sure I can make it worth your while.”
    Trillian grunted. “What do you have in mind?”
    “A night with your woman.” Roche gave him a lopsided grin. “Can’t see her face but from the walk, she’s got it where it counts.”
    What the fuck? The look on his face was that of a mad dog’s. I stiffened, then it occurred to me this was the perfect way to get alone with him. I forced myself to relax, wondering if Trillian would think of that little fact, too.
    Giving no sign that the request had unnerved him, Trillian leaned back in his chair, glancing up at me. “What makes you think she’s for rent?”
    Roche’s breath came heavy as he leaned across the table. “Every coin in my pocket against a night with her.”
    Trillian frowned. “Let me consider it while I have a drink.” He motioned to me. “We’ll be back. Have an account of how much you’re willing to wager.” He paused, not turning as we reached the door. “And don’t even think about lightening the pile on the table. I know exactly how much is there. I’m not lenient with thieves,” he added. He motioned to the boy who was running drinks for the players. “Tygerian brandy. Now.”
    The boy scurried off and within seconds was back with a shot of brandy. Trillian tossed him a coin and then motioned for me to follow him out of the den.
    “This is the way for me to get to him,” I said when we were out of earshot.
    “It’s dangerous. Did you see the glint in his eye?