One Vengeance - Raven's Scheme

Every night for two weeks after the first encounter, Raven successfully snuck into Marcus Shrale’s hut, fully intending to steal Valius’s all-important relic. The safeguards were but a nuisance. But the heirloom was never put back into its original display jar. As kooky as the man was, Marcus’s paranoia was serving him well now, to the distaste of Raven’s patience. There was no way to break into a Facker Chest, and even if Marcus took it out, Raven would never know unless he chose to reveal it in public. He needed a new scheme, and it would have to start with the underground casino.

Little Fastings operated at its own whim. Everyone knew about its existence, even Roespeye’s governing body, but no one bothered to halt or regulate its operations. So, it became something of an exception to the rule of order. A place both disapproved of and disregarded by the church and ruling city state. Seek it out at one’s own peril. Even so, it was technically illegal and therefore banned for all students of Nine Star. But such a thing never stopped Raven before.

It did stop Valentine, however, who quite easily bade farewell to the boys the night Raven and Van intended to sneak in.

“Going to the black side is one thing. Disobeying school edicts? Quite another,” she said before walking off into the night, waving as she went.

“She’s right, you know,” Van said as they watched her go. They had met by the academy stables, a stone’s throw from the girls’ dormitory. A dozen wide paddocks were attached to two sizable houses where the groundskeeper and coachman lived.

Van continued. “If we get caught, we could get expelled… again.”

Raven put up his hood. They both wore heavy black cloaks. “At this point in the game, do you really care about school?” he asked.

“Hell no. This is much better.”

Raven smirked. “Besides. This won’t be my first time to Little Fastings.”

“Won’t be mine, either. But I usually go for a beer. Not to spy on someone with the hope of stealing a priceless object.”

“Theft is typically my last resort, but he seems to have no intent to give up the ring. We’ll just observe from afar tonight. We have to find a way to get it, no matter the risk. Sheeharu’s fate depends on it. You’re sure he’ll be there?”

“As I understand it, he’s never missed opening night. That’s when the so-called ‘Fyre Fund’ is the biggest.”

“Then let’s get going.”

They made their way back into the city. While Roespeye was covered in snow a vast majority of the year, the winters on the mountain were especially harsh. They could freeze rivers and make commute anywhere by carriage nearly impossible, whether drawn by horse or pandora. And these conditions forced the casino to close down annually during those darkest of months. This night was the end of the cruel winter period, marking the opening of Little Fastings once again. The city was abuzz with whispered chatter, and it was perfect timing for Raven to observe Marcus Shrale away from his ramshackle abode in Supenheil. But first he had to get there.

They sidestepped the main route through the city, instead opting for the river’s course through a park. At the north end, a stream broke off from the river. The ice was cracked, and flowing water’s soft melody beckoned them down into a darkened corner of the garden. The Bomfrosts were gaunt here, and snow crows cawed shrilly from their ice nests tunneled into the treetops.

The watercourse eventually drove back into the mountain by way of an icicle-toothed cave. On the riverbank were several small rowboats. There was no one around, so they quickly claimed one and shoved off, letting the current guide them into the cavern. Raven stood at the bow holding up a light pandora while Van sat in the back, steering with an oar. They drifted into the expanding darkness in silence.

The cave walls quickly became smooth and rounded, and the waters stilled, rippling as the skiff advanced into the blackness, turning at several bends through the mountain. Then, a new light appeared. A pandora lantern hung by an iron chain. Others followed, lighting the way until they came to a wide space carved into the tunnel, a landing with a makeshift dock.

A man in a crimson vest and green trousers stood at the end of the mooring. When he spotted their boat, he reached out with a long rod to catch the boat by a hook. He tugged, turning the boat around and bringing it alongside the dock until Raven and Van could disembark. Then, he let the vessel go. It drifted back into the river’s current and followed it to some unknown destination.

The boathook looked at Raven and then Van. He shook his head and muttered, “How on earth did you two find each other?”

“You’re not gonna tell Bumbkin, are you?” Van asked.

“No, but if and when he catches you lot, you’d better tell him you snuck in through the main doors. I don’t want to lose this job on account of you.”

Raven smirked. They proceeded up the short dock and onto the carved-out landing. A small door nearby opened quite easily.

Immediately, their senses were assailed. The roudy mirth of gambling drinkers and drinking gamblers mixed together, nearly drowning out what would have been loud music in any other venue. And what a venue this was! Little Fastings featured a wide and spacious scene. Though the casino had a rather low ceiling, the carpeted floor was immense, and hundreds were crowded around dozens of game tables or seated at a long bar with few unoccupied stools. Raven was reminded strongly of the first time he came to Little Fastings with Noelle. He smiled at the pleasant thought.

The door through which he and Van entered was behind the bar, and they quickly side-stepped a few of the scantily clad bartenders to take two available seats on the other side. Raven ordered a cherry fizzy and Van took a stein from his belt to have filled with his beer of choice. And then they watched. Careful to keep their hoods drawn up, they scanned the revelers for their quarry.

Little Fastings featured six main games. There was blackjack, craps, seals, Djinn, and roulette, as usual. But there were also several tables dedicated to Parchen, and according to Van, that was Marcus Shrale’s vice of choice. Parchen was not a forte of Raven’s but he knew the general concept. It was a chess-like game that featured two opponents taking command of identical armies facing each other. The one who takes the king wins. But that’s where the similarities end. In Parchen, before the start of the game, the players take “move” cards from a pool of available moves. One hundred move cards are picked per player and those are the available moves for all pieces. Each player uses one move card per turn and then discards it. Moves are made until both players run out or cannot legally play any of their remaining cards. Then sixty new cards are drawn each, if necessary. They also get to pick five “special move” cards at the start of the game, which can drastically alter the flow or even change the rules of a game, depending on the circumstances.

While Raven had never played Parchen, he knew it was a difficult game to play. The best players had long memorized all the possible moves available in the large pool of cards, as well as all the special moves. Professional Parchen players picked the best moves based on their chosen strategy and opponent. But the reason the game was so popular was because of the nature of its betting. Throughout the game, gamblers are allowed to make bets with others or the House on who will be the victor. Odds are updated after every move by the “dealer” of the table. Bets are proposed and can be accepted by any in the casino, even the players. Thus, gamblers would often work in teams. A good player could manipulate the odds by showing strength or weakness with any given move, thus allowing teammates to make or accept bets at the most crucial time without giving away the partnership between them.

“I see him,” Van said into Raven’s ear.

Raven followed his gaze. Two tables down, Marcus Shrale squeezed into a spot at a Parchen table, red-faced and smiling from ear to ear. He wore his same ratty garments, but he was in particularly good spirits, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why. Everyone at that table was smiling big, because Fanny Fyre had just stepped up to play a game.

“You’re all in big trouble!” she said, smiling with fierce tenacity. “Lady Luck is calling my name tonight!”

She drew her hair up into a ponytail while her opponent took the opposite side of the table, a large man with a grizzly beard. Van said his name was Bear. The man flashed a crooked smile at her as they both began poring through large stacks of white-backed cards on the side of the table. Fanny studied the cards intently, and a bead of sweat ran down her face as she sorted through them, looking very much nervous. One by one she added cards to a personal pile. Bear finished picking his cards in short order. Once his deck was at his side, he folded his arms and shook his head at Fanny. The others laughed.

Finally, she finished, exhaling mightily. But then she smiled. “Let’s do this!”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Bear asked.

“What?”

“The special move cards. Unless you don’t want any?”

Again, the onlookers burst into laughter while Fanny turned red-faced. “I-I know! That’s what I meant!”

“You can go first,” Bear said, chuckling.

Fanny reached for a shorter stack of blue cards. She frowned as she thumbed through them, clearly overwhelmed. She eventually picked one and handed the deck to Bear. Back and forth they went until they both had five each.

Raven leaned forward in his seat as the game began. The bar was slightly elevated compared to the casino floor so he had a manageable view of the table. Fanny started, playing a “Goblin +2 any” card. The checkered game board featured thirty pieces per army, and the front row consisted of eight Goblins and seven Wardens. She took one of the Goblin game pieces and moved it forward two spaces. The “any” directive indicated the goblin could move in any direction. Fanny discarded the used move into a designated pile.

The dealer sitting beside the table wrote on a ledger in hand. Then he called out in a strong voice. “Favorite: Bear. One to Two Odds.”

And like a flood, dozens of bettors shouted all at once.

“Bet! On Bear!”

“Bear! Twenty-five crowns!”

“Forty crowns! Bear! Bear!”

And Marcus Shrale was among them. They all held bags of coins up in the air, jingling as the arms holding them jostled for position around the table. Because all of the bettors were offering their wages to a single person.

And in one fell swoop, Fanny proved all the rumors true. “I’ll take all those bets!” she exclaimed.

“Hurrah!” they all cried.

The dealer began furiously scribbling the bets into his ledger.

Van shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m seeing the famed Fyre Fund at work,” he said quietly. “I’ve never even heard of a player plummeting to two-to-one odds after the first move. But she’s still betting on herself. And all those bets amount to a small fortune. Bear is either that good, or she’s that terrible.”

Raven frowned. This didn’t make any sense at all. Fanny was obviously a rational, intelligent person. But by his calculation, she had just put an entire month’s worth of salary on the line. Was she so addicted to gambling that she would take such a ridiculous risk?

As there were no further bets offered, Bear commenced with his first move. To Raven’s surprise, he reached for his small stack of blue cards.

“Special move,” he proclaimed. “Prince’s Charge. I can take my Prince and move it anywhere on the board as long as it’s exactly four spaces away from the enemy King. A piece taken cannot be a royal.”

Bear quickly reached down, taking a piece standing next to his king and used it to smack one of Fanny’s tokens off the board, a corner piece Raven knew to be the valuable Lancer Knight.

Fanny gasped, bringing her hands to her head.

“What?” she squealed. “Is that even possible? I didn’t know you could use special moves on your first turn!”

“Favorite: Bear!” the dealer announced. “One to Three Odds.”

This time only two people around the table offered up bets. As Fanny was left nervously scanning her cards, looking like a novice in every way, Raven surveyed the situation. He now understood why so many bets had been made after the first turn. With every move, it seemed the odds were going to further favor Bear. By making big bets early, the most money was to be had if and when he was victorious.

Fanny ended up taking the two bets offered. Though she tried to sound confident still, she was clearly glum. She made another common move, and Bear took another of her pieces on his turn. Back and forth they went until about twenty moves had been made each. By that point, Bear was in complete control, and a heap of her pieces was piled on his side.

Fanny was red-faced and drenched from creeping perspiration. Her hands shook as they sifted through her remaining cards looking for salvation. But none seemed to find her. She made one more move and then slumped her head. Bear smiled and immediately played his card before the dealer could declare new odds.

“I win.” He used his Queen to topple Fanny’s King.

And then the casino erupted with joy again. Everybody who made a bet had just won a lot of money. Drinks were ordered up, people laughed and hugged each other, and some even clapped Fanny’s back in thankfulness.

This seemed to get her a bit irate. She stamped her foot and clenched her fists. “I want a rematch!” she shouted.

“HURRAH!” they all cried.

“Good Lord,” Van exclaimed. “I have to get in on this action. I just have to!”

Raven nodded. “I think it’s at least time to get a little closer to Marcus anyway. Let’s see if we can get next to him without being noticed.”

They were about to hop off their stools when strong hands grabbed them by their shoulders, keeping them seated. Then, they were whirled around to face the bar again.

Sonny Bumbkin, the owner of the casino, placed an enormous arm on the bar and leaned into it, looking Raven straight in the eyes. He took a deep puff of a long pipe sitting between his teeth and exhaled from the side of his mouth. One of his eyes was deeply yellowed, a stark contrast to his dark skin, and two of his teeth were silver. He looked from Raven to Van, puffing his pipe. Then back to Raven. Another puff.

“So?” he said. His voice was ratchety and astringent. “You gonna tell me what you’re doin’ here, Raven? And with this guy, no less?”

Van laughed nervously. “Whaaaaaat? I don’t know this ‘Raven’ person.” He actually used air quotes. “Who is this scoundrel you speak of?”

Sonny looked at him dully. The muscles of his huge arms flexed and tightened as he reached beneath the bar for a mug. He poured himself a drink from the tap.

“Been a while, Sonny,” Raven said. “A year, is it?”

“Heh.” He took a drink. The handle of a sword at his side flashed in the light. “Almost two. Nearly made a mess of my casino. You didn’t think I’d forget that now, did ya?”

“You were paid handsomely, if I recall.”

“I already told you both I can’t have you showin’ your faces in my place. Not ‘til you’re the age that won’t be causin’ me all sorts of problems. Seventeen. That’s the city law. Why do I gotta repeat myself?”

Raven smiled. “I see plenty of people here that are probably our age.”

“Maybe, but they ain’t you,” he quipped. “Nobody cares about a bunch of nobodies. But you ain’t nobody, Whitesong.” He looked at Van. “And you…” He issued a short, pointed laugh. “Well, you’ve had a target on your back for a while, haven’t ya? Look fellas, I don’t mess around when it comes to my place.”

A dangerous look came over him as he leaned in close. “I ain’t losin’ my place. So, I’m gonna ask you boys to scram.”

Raven tsked. He had hoped Sonny wouldn’t notice him, but it was a fool’s hope. Sonny was always far too careful for his own good. Raven downed the last of his cherry fizzy and hopped off the stool. Nearby, Fanny was in the midst of another losing game. Marcus Shrale was delirious with joy.

Raven flicked a coin at Sonny. “I guess I’ll be seeing you after I turn seventeen,” he said.

Sonny took another deep hit from his pipe. “By all means,” he said. “But not until then.”

Raven and Van made to leave.

“Oh, one more thing,” Sonny said. Raven stopped.

“Tell Arkh I got something for him,” Sonny said. He laughed like a deep, lingering drum. “Tell him… it’s gonna finally put a smile on that sour face of his.”