From Ashes and Snow

Rushed Words.

Chapter 33: Rushed words.

"You are very strange, little Cat." Gwendolyn Feldspar stretched out her legs, boots crossed at the ankles and picked at her teeth. 

She wore a clean, grey-blue tunic that looked so very different from her usual dirty working clothes. She had already downed three jugs of ale and her resolve was unshaken, her dark eyes still sharp and watchful. Gwen's mouth was always curved into a small smile, an amused smile that made me think that she found all of this utterly hilarious.

Kohen didn't reply to her. He sat on his chair with his legs crossed, his attention appearing to be solely fixed on the cards in front of him. He too, had donned nice, clean clothes for this night of drinking. A snow-hawk's feather was tucked above his ear, and his hair was sloppily plaited. He had chosen wine and had left it relatively untouched as the night went on and the music grew louder as the patrons of the tavern grew more inebriated.

"Don't tease Kohen," Fyr scolded. "We are all strange in our own little ways."

I took a long drink. I had known a night of Dragon's Peril, mixed with drinking and a new player would lead to problems. Gwen was a vicious, clever player. She apparently had played the game on building sites with other dwarves who she informed us, were prolific cheaters at the game.

"You are only annoyed because you're losing, Fyr." Captain Bryant held a smug air. He had won the last two games, chased only by Gwen and me; the smugness was insufferable and by the way he held his cards now, I knew he thought he was going to win another round.

"You are not going to win this time," I shot back.

Dark blue eyes flickered to me, his smile taunting. "Is that so, Birchwood?"

"That is so, Mahon."

"I have an idea," Gwen slammed an open palm down on the table. "You lose, and you have to dance Mahon. With a partner."

The Captain recoiled – as if being asked to dance was akin to being asked to flay himself willingly. "I do not dance."

"So, you are afraid of losing then?"

Mahon's face set, the challenge too great for him to deny. Kohen's ears flickered, his gaze twinkling and I swore I caught the edge of a smile rising before Fyr slammed down her cards moodily. "Nothing! This is the worst set that I've ever held. No matches or anything I can build from. I'm retreating."

"Good," Mahon leaned back in his chair, his cards close to his chest. He took a long and slow drink, his attention flickering to me, assessing my mood. "And what of you Birchwood? Are you retreating?"

I resisted the urge to look at my cards. It wasn't a good hand. "No."

A brow quirked. "You are rattled, Aviana."

"A game of cards is not enough to rattle me, Mahon."

Gwen picked up a card, watching our bickering. Another tune rang out from the bard and I tapped along to it, wishing my leg was good enough to keep up with the intensity of a good reel. Around us, people drank and danced, laughing merrily as they enjoyed their quiet night. There would be soldiers patrolling the walls and others working throughout the night, but this night was our break. A rare chance to enjoy each other's company beyond the normal conversation of trade routes, Nirani and death.

Kohen picked a card and shuffled his deck. A frown puckered his brow and the three of us still playing the game homed in on it like a wolf spotting an injured doe. "Does anyone have a dragon card?"