“Now this is the life, is it not?” Theo gestured expansively at the contents of the table in front of him with a hearty grin, the stub of what remained of his lightly oiled cigar leaving cobwebs of smoke in the air as he did so. “Just kicking back in a chair, relaxing, and reaping the rewards that your hard work has earned you. Almost makes up for life's little annoyances, like getting the living tar soundly beaten out of you. A truly spectacular meal, followed by brandy and wine of equal, uh ... spectacularity,” he said, frowning slightly at the last word he'd spoken. “And, to top things off, we have these amazing cigars smuggled in all the way from Alledesh - purest tobacco and tana leaf, rolled and dried to perfection before being lovingly dipped in something very, very unhealthy for us.” He puffed gently on the aforementioned cigar, producing clouds of smoke around his satisfied looking face. “Yep ... as moments go, this one doesn't suck. The only thing I can think of that could possibly make this evening any better-”

He stopped talking mid-sentence as I leaned forward over the table, reaching out to pluck the card second on the left from the collection of similar cards in his hand. I saw a ghost of a wince come from him as I did, and felt the faintest phantom tug of resistance as I purposefully lifted that particular card from his grip. Turning it towards me, I smiled.

“Three Ladies, two of them natural, ten chaser,” I said, placing the four card hand I'd announced onto the table before discarding my remaining four, face-up.

“...would be if I could actually win a hand or two, you ash-snorting little cheese-weasel!” he said disgustedly, shaking his head as he allowed his remaining cards to drop face-down before him. “That's three times you've had three knights or better in a row! I don't understand it ... it's like the cards are marked or something.”

“Theo,” I said, trying not to grin too fiercely, “they're your cards. We always play with your cards.”

“Which is why I don't understand it, like I said. I mean, logic dictates that I can't lose every hand, right?”

“What I don't understand Lord Tucat, if you play cards every week as you'd mentioned earlier,” said Cyrus, who had carefully put down his own cigar and was leaning forward to inspect the four cards I'd just discarded, “is how you do not own half of Lord Haundsing's territory by now.”

“Is he always such a smart-ass?” said Theo, thumbing a gesture at Cyrus.

“He's off duty right now. Otherwise I'm sure he'd be the very picture of decorum and courtesy.” I looked at my softly chuckling Captain, whose eyes went from his own hand to the cards I'd discarded and back before he opted to draw a single card from the deck. Cyrus looked at it briefly, sighed a lightly intoxicated sigh, and lay his hand face-down on the table.

“Fold,” he said to me before turning his head slightly and raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Theo. “And perhaps I'm just being a smart-ass to make up for having been called a 'timid, simpering, door-mouse of a lackey' in public two weeks ago by a certain large, bearded Lord I could mention.”

I looked to the large, bearded Lord in question, who was busy inspecting the ceiling innocently.

“Theo,” I admonished.

“Well?” he said, defensively, “I have to do what I an to maintain the act, don't I? Plus, you should have heard the comment he made about the tunic I was wearing that day!”

“You should have seen it!” Cyrus said in a voice that was a little more exuberant and relaxed than usual, likely facilitated by the evening’s wine. He shook his head in mock sorrow. “It was orange. Errr, well ... orange-ish at least, with-”

“Oh, that tunic. Yes, I'm familiar with it,” I said, looking back to Theo expectantly.

“He'd asked if he might offer me a towel,” scowled Theo darkly, “in order to hide the fact I'd been assaulted by a Vereet kebab wielding scoundrel, who also appeared to be armed with various mustards.”

The gods know I tried, but I just couldn't keep it in.

My laughter was sudden and explosive. I shook in my seat as I laughed, high-pitched and loud. Soon all three of us were laughing (Theo only managed to maintain a dour look of disgust for a few seconds before his own booming laughter joined ours) despite the pain such an activity was drawing from our assorted injuries. We laughed hard enough that it seemed nearly an impossible task to remain balanced upright in our chairs, sitting around the card table. It was the kind of laugh that you wonder why you don't do more often, even as you're laughing.

Within a minute or so I managed to recover, hand wiping the moisture from my eyes.

It felt good. I'd needed that.

“That was great. Ow,” I said, adding the last word with a rueful grimace, still chuckling softly as my hand went to the bandage wrapped around my injured left temple.

“Milord!” Cyrus said, sobering instantly. “Do you require some additional herbs for that? The ones in the poultice might be wearing off, and the healer said-”

“Cyrus, please. You're off duty! I'm not 'Milord', I'm Vincent, or 'Lord Tucat' if my first name makes you uncomfortable. If I need anything, you can tell me to get it myself. Tell me to go to Hades first, in fact! You've earned some off-duty time in addition to the rather substantial raise in your monthly stipend we discussed ... and by all the gods, you're going to relax even if I have to beat you unconscious to get you to do so!”

“Unconscious people are very relaxed,” Theo said, nodding sagaciously, looking at the cards that he held and optimistically eyeing the face-up cards I'd discarded.

“You would know,” Cyrus said, attempting to sound innocent.

“Ouch!” Theo smiled, his face performing a beard-splitting grin. He drew two cards from the top of the deck and glanced at them briefly before tossing them and the rest of his hand face down on the table. “I fold too. Vince, I think I'm gonna like this guy. You know, once we've loosened him up enough to throw in the odd jab at you, of course.”

I smiled at that, also making a note of the sheepish grin that Cyrus was unsuccessfully attempting to hide.

“Cyrus,” I said, repositioning my injured leg that lay extended on a chair beside the table, rubbing the bandaged thigh area gently to assist with the circulation there. “In addition to giving you the raise we discussed, I think that some sort of bonus may be in order. Behind my wine cellar in the cold rack, there's an unopened bottle of Tifii thirty-six that is worth about twenty gold marks or so. I'd like you to have it, on the condition that you open it this very evening and share the contents with myself and Lord Haundsing here.”

There was a moment's hesitation, followed by a greatly amused chuckle from Cyrus. (I say 'chuckle' because I'm quite certain that a Knight-Captain should never, ever 'giggle') His chair squawked against the floor as he pushed it back from the table and stood up. His right hand pressed against the bandages of his injured left shoulder as he did so, I noticed.

“Certainly, and I must say that I'm most honored. I mean, if you were ordering me to fetch another bottle of Tifii thirty-six I'd tell you to go to Hades and get it yourself. However, since it's a bonus we're talking about...”

The three of us laughed, and a grinning Cyrus walked towards the ruined door of my exercise studio and disappeared from sight a few moments later.

“Vincent,” Theo said seriously, “I'm glad you're finally paying him what he's worth. The guy is an unholy terror when it comes to protecting your reputation, if you aren't already aware. I've seen him do it first-hand, and not just when I’ve been intentionally needling him. You can't just buy that kind of loyalty, you know.”

“I know,” I said, retrieving my cigar and awakening the angry red embers within it with a few short puffs, watching the fragrant smoke swirl around my face. “I imagine that I'm going to be giving him another raise soon too, once all of the property I've been assigned has been catalogued and collection dates have been coordinated. A minimal staff was okay before ... I could get by with a half-dozen domestic staff and ten knights or so for security, doing most of the dirty work myself,” I sighed. “Of course, those days are behind me now, what with my new acquisition and all. Everything’s changed - it’s a whole new game all of a sudden. Why, I can't even duel for a little extra cash any more.”

“Uh ... and why is that?”

“Think about it, Theo. Redforne made Ismir look incompetent out there at the Circles, in front of thousands. Though it may be a dubious distinction at best, what swordsman wouldn't seek to advance their own career by killing me? I'm the man who is rumored to have bested the only son of Salvatori Redforne, after all.”

“True,” Theo said, nodding thoughtfully. “Of course, you're not getting out of your weekly practice sessions with me ... don't even think that you can get out of those.”

“Oh, not at all. If anything I may have to spend more time practicing my fencing, just in case someone gets it in their head that they should try to push me around. So, that being said,” I puffed theatrically on my cigar as I swirled my remaining wine in its glass, “do you know of any good swordsmen I could perhaps hire as my trainer?”

“Uhm, what?” said Theo, looking bewildered.

“Well,” I said, as if broaching a delicate subject, “it seems that my current instructor was unable to defeat a certain swordsman who I was subsequently able to best in a contest of arms. By my reckoning, that-”

Theo scooped up a couple of petite food items that had been lovingly crafted by Mosond and chucked them in my general direction.

“Ass!” he laughed, reaching for another piece of mouth-watering ammunition and hurling it playfully at me. “You utter horse's ass!”

“Well, it's true!” I laughed, holding up both arms defensively.

“Yeah, and I'm sure that if you had most of your left arm muscles severed you would have done as well!” His eyes casted about for some other stray morsel of food to throw. “As it is, you're crazy if you think you could have pulled that off without me softening him up for-”

A small piece of frosted tea cake interrupted him mid-sentence, hitting his cheek with a moist sounding slap.

As if on cue, we both began pelting each other with handfuls of food. After a few moments we both picked up our dinner knives and simultaneously held them out toward each other threateningly.

Both of our blades fell to the table with a clatter, and we burst into peals of laughter.

Cyrus returned with a perplexed expression and bottle of wine cradled against his forearm, looking at the two us as though we’d gone mad. His expression did nothing to dull our laughter. If anything, it doubled it.

I don't know how long our second round of laughter lasted, but I wished it could continue, despite the pain.

“Ow,” I said once again, chuckling as I rubbed my throbbing temple.

“Lord Tucat, a question if I may,” said Cyrus, putting the wine bottle on the table and reaching for the corking lever. “I noticed in the cold rack that there was a bottle that had been marked with a red kerchief. I looked a bit closer and saw it was a Tifii thirty-nine. Now, I don't claim to be an authority on the vintage, but-”

“Ah yes, please make certain that the bottle you're speaking of is not disturbed, Cyrus. I'm saving it for a special occasion.”

“Earlier this morning you were given an increase in territory the likes of which no Lord in the history of Harael has ever been given all at once.” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me. “If that’s not considered special enough, I’m afraid that your standards may be just a tad high. By the way, you have a little-” he trailed off, pointing at a spot on his face while looking to a similar spot on mine.

I hastily wiped the unidentified remnants of Theo’s food assault from my cheek.

“Well, as much as this new territory is going to add new income and new opportunities, it’s not precisely a cause to celebrate,” I said, my tone becoming serious. “In fact, this might even be considered punishment. I’m going to be stretched very thin, and this next year is likely going to be a memorable one for anyone who works for me. No, that bottle of wine is special ... I intend it to be opened when I’ve discovered who was behind my family’s murder, and have dealt with them accordingly.”

We all sat in silence for a little while, the atmosphere becoming a little less jovial. Theo swirled the remaining wine in his glass and looked introspective, while Cyrus continued his efforts to uncork the bottle of green wine he’d retrieved.

Ah well, the laughter had been good while it lasted.

“I’m not sure I entirely agree about the territory being punishment,” Cyrus said, refilling the contents of my glass carefully. “If it is, I’d have to say it’s damned short-sighted of Tenarreau. Does he even realize what kind of turmoil there would have been had you fallen in the Circles? With the odds being what they were, the fortune Redforne would have made would have caused chaos!”

“I suspect that the chaos would have been intentional, possibly so that he would have the leverage necessary to influence the Prince’s decision when the time came for him to approve property arrangements and draw territorial lines.” I gave a sidelong shrug and took a sip of wine. “Tenarreau might have known about that as well though, all of it. I wouldn’t put it past him. The guy seems to know everything going on in this city.”

Cyrus grunted his assent as he finished pouring wine into Theo's glass and then his own, sitting down once more at the table. We sat in silence for a few moments.

“Oh, before I forget,” I said, remembering something, “if you’re not busy tomorrow Cyrus, I’d like you to draw five hundred gold from the treasury. Find out how Ismir fares, and make certain that all of his healer fees are paid for. Two hundred and fifty should cover his expenses, anything extra can be considered a little bonus on top of what I already paid him for the duel.”

“I can do that,” Cyrus said, nodding. His brow furrowed. “And the remaining two-fifty?”

“I would like you to see that Mouser gets it,” I said, receiving nearly identical puzzled looks from both Cyrus and Theo.

“Mouser?” Theo asked.

“Yeah. He’d stumbled upon a clever little trick with a sword completely by accident, and the fact that I’d remembered it when I did is largely responsible for me still breathing in and out.”

“Two hundred and fifty gold, because you borrowed a move of his?” Cyrus asked, looking at me dubiously. “Even if he suspected to have helped you in that manner, I don’t see how that might translate into gold in his pocket.”

“Well, I suppose it’s more for me - I always pay my debts. If he asks, you can tell him that it’s a retainer if you like, or make up something believable. The goodwill of those within the fencing community is never a bad thing to try to maintain.”

Cyrus shrugged. “I can do that, certainly. Doubtless with your new income from the new territory, five hundred gold will be a proverbial drop in the bucket.”

“I can’t even be sure about that, actually,” I said, tenting my fingers before me as I sat back in my chair. “Considering the size of Greybridge's new country estate, he was damn near broke. I don’t know enough about the territory he was managing, or how Redforne was able to bankrupt him. It might not be that profitable at all in its present state. Regardless, I strongly suspect that if the merchants who have suddenly found themselves tenants of mine have even half a brain, they’ll be hiding a good portion of their gold, revising their books, and practicing their ‘Oh woe is me, times are hard’ face in the mirror.”

“Not to mention the bevy of shopkeepers who will be visiting you in the next while, asking for a merchant seal with your family crest to be made for them.” Theo scratched his chin while giving me a sympathetic look. “My own territory is running smoothly, so if you need some help behind the scenes, maybe some extra cash to get things rolling in the right direction, let me know.”

“Thank you Theo, but I'm actually in pretty good shape on the financial side of things. As for the management of my new territory, I'll simply do what I always do in dire situations like this.”

“Which is?”

“Why, I'll square my shoulders, strengthen my resolve, and then make it the job of my remarkable Captain Cyrus here.” I gestured towards Cyrus with a winning grin. “A man with a towering intellect and nerves of iron. The pillar of strength that holds the roof up over our heads. A man I trust implicitly, who-”

Cyrus snorted derisively, making a 'pffft' sound.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You don't agree?”

“Oh, I'm fine with most of it. Towering intellect, pillar ... all that stuff. But 'trust implicitly'?” Cyrus snorted. “Please...”

“Come now, I trust you enough to have let you in on mine and Lord Haundsing's secret, haven't I? None of his knights or other staff can claim this privilege.”

“You didn't exactly 'let me in' as it were. You were discovered, and now you're simply making the best of it. That's not exactly trust as I see it.”

“He's got a point, Vince,” said Theo, casually taking a sip of wine as he stubbed out the remains of his cigar in the dark glass bowl that had been fetched for that purpose. “Accepting new circumstances with grace isn't the same thing as trust.”

I frowned. “I suppose that's fair. Well then, what if I shared something with you, some piece of information that was so sensitive and potentially damning that the mere mention of it could undo everything I've accomplished as Lord so far. Something I haven't even told Theo here. Would you take that as a sign of trust?”

Cyrus folded his arms and raised a speculative eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. Theo regarded me as well, listening intently.

“My family was murdered. Prince Tenarreau has all but admitted the fact to me, and hinted that he might share what he knows by next year's ceremony,” I said.

“Right. We've established that,” nodded Cyrus.

“Now,” I continued gravely, “I've decided to give the Prince one year. There are many things to consider when maintaining law and order within the city. Given how smart I believe Tenarreau to be, and in the interests of helping maintain order, I've decided to act in the capacity he's intended. He has a plan, and I will do what I can to help it along. This coming year will be very trying for me, but I shall do my best.

“Once a year is up, if I am not given the information I crave from the Prince,” I pursed my lips and tented my fingers, “I intend to take it from him.”

I watched the somber expressions on the two men's faces as they took that in, considered the implications.

“I do not know the manner in which I shall do this, as much will depend on the circumstances. I may exert pressures equal to the pressure he seeks to exert on me. I may trick the information from him, or steal it, or perhaps engage in activities considered treasonous. If I must, I'll dangle him by his feet from the highest window of the palace and wring it from him that way. It may cost me everything I have, getting this information, but get it I shall.”

Theo was nodding to himself, lost in thought. Wide-eyed, Cyrus gave the slightest gulp before grinning at me.

“Yeah. I suppose you do trust me. Hades,” he said, shaking his head slightly, “the more I'm finding out, the more I'm beginning to suspect I should be asking for a bigger raise.”

“Bah. What could you possibly want a raise for, when consider-ing the fine bonus structure now in place for you? Speaking of which,” I sat back in my chair in a thoroughly satisfied manner, “Cyrus, I think you deserve another bonus. Beside my drinks cabinet, there is a box of frighteningly expensive and lightly oiled Alledesh cigars. For all that you've done for me lately and as a tribute to your much valued service, I'd like you to have three of them, provided that you-”

“Lord Tucat,” Cyrus smiled, standing up from the table slowly. “Would you and Lord Haundsing like another cigar?”

“Why, what a fine idea! Grab one for yourself while you're at it,” I chuckled.

Cyrus went to retrieve a few more cigars from the box as I watched Theo collect the playing cards laying on the table, turning them all face-down and gathering them together in a pile so that he might shuffle.

Remembering that I had won the last hand, I gathered up the rectangular playing chips from the center of the table and drew them towards me. I had managed to sort about a third of them into straight orderly stacks by the time Cyrus returned to the table, offering me a cigar. I took it from him with a nod of thanks, and while lighting it I happened to glimpse the scar on the back of my hand.

I wondered idly what kind of a scar I would end up with on my temple. Likely it wouldn't be too visible - once my hair grew out, it might not be that noticeable at all.

Besides, what was one more scar for people to look at, more or less?

My leg felt twitchy and tingly from the healing that was already rapidly taking place, and I was likely to be back up and on my feet in a few days. This was a good thing – I had a tremendous amount of things that needed to get done in a remarkably short period of time. The last thing I needed was to be limping awkwardly about as I attempted to exert my authority over shop and home owners in my new territory.

Watching wisps of smoke rise from the tip of my cigar, I was reminded of the times I'd watched my father write, the drying sand mixing with the oily ink and burning his thoughts into place.

I wondered what he would have thought about these recent developments – more territory thrust into my hands than had ever been managed by any member of the Tucat family before.

He'd probably have smiled, and asked me what the heck I was going to do with it all. I grinned at the thought.

I knew exactly what I was going to do with it, too. I'd do some familiar things, force myself to try new things, occasionally attempt impossible things, learning as I went along. I would throw out all the old rules and make up new ones as I went. I'd kick a little ass.

I was a Tucat, after all.

And this was a whole new game all of a sudden.

“Gentlemen,” I said, setting the cigar between my teeth, feeling my lips draw back in an easy smile. “Let's play.”