Cheating is Bad

“Look, all’s I sayin’ is that part o’ the game is cheatin’ and so you shouldn’ be so upset.”

The two men stared at each other from across the table.  They were large and their bare arms were covered in tattoos.  Since this particular tavern was so close to the skimmer docks it was a good guess that the two were loaders.  Pull cargo off a skimmer.  Put cargo on.  Hard work that resulted in a lot of muscles, a lot of swearing, and the occasional head injury when someone wasn’t watching what they were doing when operating the pulley.  Between them lay two empty mugs of ale and a stack of coins.  In their hands were cards.

“A’righ, I’ll agree to tha’.  But if you try and lay down two Bandits of the same color that’s the wors’ cheatin’ I ever seen and it just won’t fly.”

The upper classes of society did not use the traditional deck of cards with Bandits and Wenches and the likes.  They used Kings and Queens and Knights.  The Academy used Literamancers and Pyromancers and Aermancers.

The other man considered it for a moment.  It was a valid point.  Before the game he’d stuffed one of each kind of card either up his sleeve or stuck it to the underside of the table so that he could make a pair out of anything.  Of course, if the card was an exact match of the other one down… well, that led to problems.  He reluctantly slid the duplicate card off the table and returned it to its hiding place.

“You’re cheatin’ too,” he said morosely.

“I didn’ get caught.”

They were about to deal out another round of cards when the door flew open to the tavern.  Everyone jumped.  This was a quiet building and most people kept to themselves or their drinks and spoke in muted voices.  The door slamming into the wall was like a gunshot, and then it was quickly followed by actual gunshots.  Two figures dove inside and the girl kicked the door shut behind her.

“Langley, dearest sister, I think those men are part of the crew of that captain whose cargo we stole,” the young man said, scrambling to his feet.

“Sabreur, sweetie, it wasn’t stealing.  We were liberating it.  To the authorities.”

“Whatever it was, I think we pissed someone off.”

The two strode across the floor, the girl reloading her pistol as she walked.  Sabreur made his way straight for the two card players and slid onto the bench along the wall, directly behind one.  Langley followed and settled herself in.

“It was our civic duty, brother,” she said, “That cargo was illegal.”

“And it was part of our civic duty to also rid ourselves of a competitor?”

“Precisely.  Never liked that git anyway.”

The card-players stared at the two.  They were comparatively small and looked quite young.  The boy had a beard and a strong jaw line but his features were smooth and his arms were covered with the muscle of a rapier, not that of heavy lifting.  The girl looked like she’d missed out on the better points of puberty.  She was also wearing a captain’s jacket.  It was very strange.

“’Scuse us,” one of the card players said, “but who are you?”

“Langley and Sabreur Stormrider,” the girl said, “Don’t mind us. We’re just hiding from some very large and very angry men.  Continue your game.”

The two muttered ‘Stormriders’ under their breath and started to deal.  Outside came the sound of a lot of yelling.  It paused outside the tavern and for a moment it seemed like it would pass by.  Then it stopped, a few voices started up again, and the two Stormriders readied their pistols.

The door was flung open for a second time that day.  Everyone jumped.  Eight very large and very angry men came storming in and for a moment stood there, looking around the room for the two Stormriders that were completely dwarfed by the large men in front of them.

That’s when the girl leapt out of hiding, putting one foot on the table and leapfrogging over the card-player’s head.  He winced and considered his hand as her pistol went off while she was in mid-air.  Someone pitched backwards and into a wall, leaving a large smear of blood behind him.  The owner of the tavern shook his head and left to get a bucket and a mop from the back room.

Langley hit the floor and ran, upsetting a table and hiding behind it.  Bullets splintered into the wood and she cringed, one hand practically crushing the feather in her three-cornered hat.  That’s when Sabreur leapt out of hiding, putting his feet against the wall and running along it two paces before dropping to the ground with a pistol in each hand.  He fired twice.  One person jumped at the near miss and another doubled over and dropped his weapon.

The girl pulled a second pistol and peered up over the top of the table.  She took down another man before everyone realized that they’d all used up their pistols and didn’t feel like taking the time to put new bullets in.  Swords were drawn shortly after this brief interlude.

At the table, the card-player surveyed his opponent.  Was that one card he was holding?  Or two, finely arranged so that it appeared there was only one?

The two groups met in the middle.  The four standing sailors and the skimmer captain and her brother.  The girl had a rapier in each hand and the boy had a rapier and what appeared to be a match.  From the sidelines came a roar of approval and a chair flying through the air.  There were only three sailors after it hit.

Langley met two of them and parried with her left hand and attacked with her right.  She was clumsy on her off-hand but it was enough to keep the sailor’s wild swings from connecting.  She thrust at her opponent’s stomach and that gave her enough time to skip backwards and leap up onto a table.  With a swift kick she sent a mug flying off into the face of one of her opponents.

“That was mine!” the drinker complained loudly and stood, upsetting the table as he did so.  Langley went over with it and the sailor dove for his chance and swung a club at her head.  It hit the offended drinker’s shoulder instead, who promptly punched him in the face.  Langley rolled onto her back and stabbed him in the groin with her rapier.  He dropped.

Sabreur took on the third sailor.  He put his sword tip up and the man hesitated, watching the boy to see what his first move was.  It was to strike the match on a nearby tabletop.  The fire glinted off the goggles he wore on his forehead and the card-players momentarily stopped to watch.

Five seconds later the last remaining opponent ran screaming from the tavern, the seat of his pants burning merrily.  Langley cleaned the blood of her rapier, sheathed them both, and turned to her brother.  He was grinning broadly.

“That was overkill,” she said.

“No, that was fun.  Can we do it again?”

The owner of the tavern appeared with a bucket and mop and surveyed the damage.  Some upended furniture, a few bloodstains, and one table that had been shot up.  Not too bad for a brawl.  And most of the patrons had elected to simply watch the fighting this time instead of joining in.  Must be because it was rare that two scrawny kids could take on eight sailors and win.  Usually the others joined in to help even the odds.  Hell, if he hadn’t been fetching the bucket he may have lobbed a wine bottle at anyone who had went after the girl.  She was pretty, in a rather unobtrusive way.

“Sorry about that,” Langley said, addressing the tavern in general, “We kind of offended some other skimmer captain and his crew decided they didn’t like us.”

“Kind of offended?” Sabreur replied while checking to make sure everyone was down for the count.  He twirled the spent remains of the match in his hand.

“Kind of a lot offended,” she conceded.  “Anyways, we’ll just be going now.  Here’s for the damage.”

She slapped some bills down on the bar counter.  The tavern keeper took them and shoved them in his apron pocket with a nod.

“For double that we’ll dump the bodies in the ocean,” someone from the back of the room called out.  Langley just waved her hand.

“No need.  They’re all wanted men right now.  No bounty, sadly, or we’d stick around.”

The card-player stared at the table.  His opponent was watching the twins.  There was an extra card on the table.  They should only have four in their hand at the moment and yet there was a fifth card lying on the table that had fallen from his opponent’s grasp.  He was cheating.  He’d lost his grip on it when the boy had done that pyromancy thing and a fireball had erupted on the seat of the poor sailor’s pants.  Carefully, he reached over and slid the card over and into his own deck.  Two could play at this game.

The girl turned and swept her hat off her head in a bow to the room.

“Enjoy your evening, gentlemen,” she said and backed away for the door.  Her brother opened it for her and she turned again and replaced the hat on her head.

The two stood in the doorway for a moment.  Stared down the street.

“Say, that large group of very large and very angry men wouldn’t be headed in our direction, would it?” Sabreur asked.

“Um, well, there were a lot more people that sailed under that captain than just the eight.”

“So does that mean yes?”

Langley sighed and adjusted her hat to stay on her head better.

“Well, you did say you wanted to do this again.”

“Can I use firebombs this time?”

The door swung shut behind them.  Through the window the tavern patrons saw two small figures go running past down the street.  A few minutes later a large group of very angry people followed.  A minute after that a very angry man with charred pants followed them.  The tavern keeper shook his head and started dragging the dead and unconscious sailors towards the doors.  One of the drinkers got up to help.

And at the card-player’s table one of the men just realized he only had four cards in his deck instead of five and that his opponent had a very nasty grin on his face.

First Previous Next Current