Daughter of Ice and Fire

Three

"You let him win."

"Her."

"Fine. You let HER win," the man accused, correcting himself. Taking a large swig of his tankard, he wiped the foam off his upper lip, then dug into the trencher in front of him. Grease dripped down his chin and he absently wiped it on his sleeve.

"It was bad luck." The man Lihleih had beaten made a sound of disgust. Removing a folded cloth from his pocket, he handed it to his friend. "Use this. Wiping your face on your sleeve makes you look like a peasant."

The man grinned and slowly wiped his face with his sleeve again. "Isn't that the point?"

"Have it your way. But you won't be picking up any ladies looking and smelling like a roasted pig."

"Oh, my friend. I think you are wrong about that. Why just look at the ladies fawning over the wrestlers.  And they smell a lot worse than me, I daresay."

The first man shot a cursory glance at the wrestling pit. His friend was right. Women were practically throwing themselves at the men coming out of the circle. He made another sound of disgust and went back to playing with his food.

His friend sobered and took the cloth, wiping his lips and chin. Taking another swallow, he leaned forward and jammed his finger on the table. "Now tell me why you let the girl win, Averit. And why you let her go."

Averit refused to meet his friend's eyes. "I told you. Bad luck."

His friend slammed both palms down, causing the ale to slosh, "Don't lie to me, Averit. You may be able to convince others it was nothing more than a stroke of bad luck, but I saw what happened. You intentionally threw the match."

Averit flushed. "He, I mean she, said she needed the coin in order to survive the winter."

His friend sat back, swearing. "Of course, she said that. They ALL say that."

"But Gauthier, I don't need it. So what if I let her win? Even if she wasn't being honest, she can definitely use it more than I can."

"She broke the law, Averit. She hid her sex so she could compete in something she knew was forbidden. And when she was found out, she ran. And stole the pouch as well."

"Wouldn't you have done the same? Knowing what the alternative is?"

Gauthier sighed. "She won't get away with it. Even if you don't care, the other archers do. They'll be screaming for her head. Being caught by the King's guard might actually be safer."

Averit's head shot up and he glared. "Tell me you don't really believe that."

"At least if she's sent to the dungeons, she'll survive. Facing those she bested is surely a death sentence."

"Spoken like a true noble. One who has no idea what dungeons are like. And what happens to those sentenced to them."

"I most certainly do know what the dungeons are like. Or have you forgotten? Besides, those sentenced to the dungeons deserve their fate. They broke the law and are being punished. If they hadn't, they'd still be free."

Averit clamped his mouth shut. This was neither the time nor the place to get into an argument over what constituted lawlessness or just punishment in the kingdom. Staring at his trencher, he began furiously tearing the meat.

"Averit, the King's laws have kept the peace in the kingdom for years upon years. If the people who break his laws aren't punished, anarchy will ensue."

He continued to attack what lay in the trencher, shoving pieces into his mouth so he wouldn't say something he would regret later. Gauthier sighed again and crossed his arms.