„Meaning three thousand and something is all anybody else would risk. Can you still get odds?"
„They're getting nervous. But still a good two to one."
Dantice tapped his front teeth with a fingernail. „What's the game look like?"
„The King's going to lose ‘less there's a miracle. Charygin Hall reached eight Guards that I know about."
„Can we offset that?"
„Bribes? No way. This much money on the line,
Charygin Hall ain't taking no chances. They've got their boys locked up so tight even their mothers can't see them."
„Then if they lose, nobody will accuse anybody of any thing."
„Be hard to make a case."
„How would you reach them?"
„Don't think I could."
„Uhm." Dantice dropped his feet, leaned elbows on the table. „But somebody goes in and out. They've got to eat."
„Top officers of the Hall. Nobody we can touch."
„None of them owe us?"
„Nope. I checked."
„Who does the cooking?"
„Got an idea?"
„A silly little notion. Been knocking it around a couple days. Suppose the night before the game they ate something that would give them the back door trots next morning. Could you keep your mind on Captures when you had the drizzling shits?"
The Fat Man cackled like a hen laying square eggs. „Oh! Beautiful. But it'd be obvious, wouldn't it? Forty guys don't come down with the runs sudden like."
„Okay. Not everybody. Ten or fifteen. One pot of bad food. Happens all the time, right?"
„They'll suspect."
„Naturally. They're crying foul about the last two games. So are the Guards. Handle it so nobody can prove anything later."
„You saying do it?"
„And cover the rest of those bets."
„What about the money?"
„Get some that's already bet and bet it again."
„Damn, are they going to howl."
„Ask me if I care. What can they do about it?"
The Fat Man grinned a lopsided, evil grin. He hated as only a former Nordmen victim could hate. „All right. Death to the Panthers, and all that crap."
„Good. Tolliver. What's headed for Throyes?"
Ten soldiers stood at attention in Michael Trebilcock's office. Trebilcock wore his seldom-seen uniform. It gleamed. Inside it, he was a cold, pale, angry devil. The soldiers did not know why they had been summoned. He paced up and down, delaying the telling, making the waiting an exquisite agony.
They were terrified. They had heard the stories about Captain Trebilcock's cruel way with those who displeased him. The rumble of the storm fed their dread.
Michael stepped back. „Gentlemen."
One said, „Sir?"
„I can't hear you, Corporal."
They knew this formula well. „Sir?" ten throats thun dered.
„Good." For half a minute Trebilcock fumbled through the notes and gewgaws upon his desk. Then he stared each man in the eye. „The Palace Guard. An elite unit. Hand-picked men. Absolutely loyal to His Majesty. Its men ready to lay down their lives." He settled his rump on the desk's edge. A scrap of paper dangled from his fingers. „A plush posting. Easy duty. Pretty uniforms. Top pay. No field maneuvers. Envy of everybody in the Army. That right, Corporal Nikkles?"
„Yes sir."
„And at the opposite extreme might be the Briedenbacher Light. Border duty in Loncaric and the Galmiches. The regiment for bad boys. Right?"
„Yes sir."
„And then there's Cargo, where the bad boys send their bad boys. One light horse troop right in the heart of bandit country."
„Sir?"
„Nikkles, this piece of paper says you're going to become second stableboy with the Cargo troop."
„Sir?"
„Why? What did you do? Nothing. Yet. If you do, it's Cargo for the lot of you."
„But sir... ."
„Six days ago Corporal Kalsy Nikkles was paid a sum of forty crowns silver. Twenty-five crowns each were paid to Willem Fletcher and his brother Clete. Next day, twenty crowns each to Arman Sartella, Maries Bowyer... need I continue?"
Nikkles said, „Captain, I... ." and stopped.
„Not much you can say, is there? Here's the choice. Cargo or the palace. If you want to stay here, make sure the Guards beat the Panthers."
„Sir, we can't. The only reason I took the money is everybody said they're going to pound us anyway."
„If they do, you're gone."
Someone grumbled, „That's not fair."
„Fair doesn't interest me. Winning does. You do have a third option. Desertion. That puts you on my shit list. I'll catch up eventually." Trebilcock surveyed their ten grey faces. „Nikkles, have I made myself clear?"
„Yes sir."
„Good. We'll see you on the Captures field. Dismissed."
„Thelma, find Sergeant Gales."
„My Lady?"
„Are you deaf, woman? Move!" Inger marched to a window, stared into the storm lashing the city. The thun der had declined in violence, but the rain had not. She shiv ered.
„My Lady?"
She turned. Gales. How long had she been lost in the cruel storm? „Josiah. What's happening?"
„Happening? Nothing."
„Something's in the wind. Where's the King?"
„I hear he went out to the cemetery."
Lightning flashed. Thunder cracked. „That was close. On a day like this?"
„Sometimes he does strange things."
„I don't like it. Whenever he's going to start something, he goes and talks to his dead Queen."
„Maybe she tells him what he wants to hear."
„Don't joke. I'm scared. He could start on us now. Send somebody to watch him."
„In this weather?"
„In this weather, Josiah."
„As you wish." He was trying to remain detached. He didn't need any more heartaches.
„Let me know what you find out."
„Of course." He departed before she became any more unreasonable.
Inger received Gales' note five hours later. He had been unable to locate the King. Ragnarson had not gone to the cemetery. Her level of fright rose a notch. „At least the wizard is out of the way."
Ragnarson wore a heavy, waterproof cape. He leaned low over the neck of his horse. Nevertheless, he was soaked to the skin. He shivered in the chill wind. „Got to be a damned fool to be out here." His words vanished in the wind.
Lightning slammed down. Chunks of an old oak flung through the air. A shattered, steaming branch hit mud a dozen feet behind him. „That could've been me. How bad do I want to win this thing?"
He peered into the downpour ahead. Was that it? Yes. The boundary marker. „Get up," he growled. „Almost there."
His mare maintained her desolate pace. The footing in the woods was treacherous.
A quarter hour later he swung down, tied the mare, took a trenching tool from behind his saddle. He looked for a specific rock. „What a day. But it has to be today." The storm would wipe the evidence away.
The rock was flat, twenty inches across and six thick. He tried to move it, slipped on the slick leaves. He tumbled downhill, into six inches of galloping runoff. The rush tried to drag him away. Sputtering, he took his anger back to the rock.
Once he moved it, he dug. The earth flew into the water. The surge carried it away. Then the hole was big enough. He reinforced it with a few small stones, slid the flat rock back into place, considered his handiwork. „Guess it'll do."
That was one. Four to go. And already his hands hurt. He was going to have blisters on his blisters.
He and his mare were covered with mud before he finished. He was cold and miserable and ached in every muscle. He patted the mare's neck. „Let's go home, Lady." Headed south, she set a more ambitious pace.