The Thief King

12 | Gambling Drunk

The Dancer, despite its name, was a ramshackle taste repellent. No matter the reason for coming to the tavern, Kole always made a conscious decision to arrive drunker than he left. This insured two things: First, that he'd less likely notice the riffraff that gathered within its old walls, and secondly that he had a far better time than he'd admit to.

The sweet and sour smells of body odour, ale and fire bombarded him upon entering the tavern, a large room filled with dark wood tables lit by candlelight. From the rafters hung ropes and iron candelabras missing spokes from previous bar brawls. The pealing walls basked in a warm glow from the candles and massive fireplace set far back where quieter dealings took place. A large bar took up most of the room and as usual, there was barely a space available to order a drink.

Kole sneered, feeling Chase stop next to him.

"They start early," Chase sighed. He meant the crowd and the vivacious band banging away at their instruments on a stage overlooking a mostly empty dance floor. "Mate, I think we should offer our services to this sorry lot. I expect we'd do a far finer job in ruining their hearing."

Kole peered at his friend. "I can hold a tune."

"I wasn't talking about you. You can hold a tune, but you can play no instrument just as I can hold my own on a lyre, but can't sing for my bloody life. I expect if we do what the other can, we are likely to frighten most of this lot into retirement."

"On any other night..." Kole sighed. "Come on. I need a drink."

Two hours later Kole judged them drunk enough to wander over to the dark corners near the fireplace where the shadier characters dwelt. Thieves rarely made a scene in public if they could. Attention was the last thing a criminal wanted to attract on a personal night.

As discussed, Chase left his side, approaching one table of gamblers while Kole approached another. The group eyed Kole's approach.

"Evenin, mate. Ye lost?" one asked before Kole had even reached a chair.

Kole paused, tapping his lips with a finger. "I think...Can I be finding a little...ye know..."

"I don't mate. What ye lookin' fer?"

"Well, ye see I got this coin," he produced a brown pouch and shook it to prove its contents.

All the men sat straighter, murmuring softly. One stood and made a grab for the coin. Kole's hand retreated and the man fumbled for balance.

"It still be my coin, mate," he clucked his tongue. "I be looking fer a few games to spend it, ye catch me meaning?"

"Oh aye, we catch yer meaning. Don't mean we accept yer presence. But yer coin. Well, we'll be glad to take it off yer person."

Another snorted. "Breathing or no."

"We don't take kindly to strangers, ye see. We can't trust men we don't know."

Kole snorted. "Trust with a thief ye do know or trust with a thief you don't, I be playin' me coin here."

All stood, their chairs scraping back.

Kole rolled his eyes. A coin dropped to his palm in a single shake of his arm and he flicked it in the air. It's black faces reflected no light as it turned in the air and landed on the table with a clink. All the men turned to look at it.

"Now," Kole said. "I be here on business fer someone we both fear. Ye got room fer me or no?"

Chase had been welcomed to the table with wary glances at first, but after an initial losing streak, his new acquaintances had taken quite a liking to him. Drinks were ordered, jokes exchanged, and an hour later he was cackling with them as if he had known them for years. Trick to gambling was to make your opponents underestimate you. He had to lose most of his coin before he won it back and earned their respect.