The Hell of It by Peter Orullian Read Free Book Online

looks an awful lot like a magpie in this set of placks. And there’s a desperation in your play.” He sat forward, folding his hands together on the table and leaning toward Malen. “You tried to keep it to yourself, but I saw it clearly enough. No doubt it clouded your vision.”
    Malen shook his head. “No. The plack was a twelve-feather magpie. It has changed.”
    Gynedo’s expression darkened, became threatening. “Then you are calling me a cheat. And I won’t have it.”
    Leaning in himself, Malen let all the dread of what losing would mean sharpen into a counterthreat. He spoke softly. “Here’s what. We either play again—this time, all-up Double Draw—or you will simply give me my things, and I will leave your boat. Anything else, and I will bring the city guard to investigate all your games. Which would you prefer?”
    The man’s face slowly lit with a new kind of smile. There was a hint of pity in it. Maybe a dusting of appreciation for Malen’s audacity. What could not be found in this new smile was concern. He gave a very deliberate look to two men standing in the makeshift gallery of onlookers.
    Then, he spoke with utter casualness. “Unless I’ve missed something, you’ve nothing left to wager. And others are waiting to play. Please do me the courtesy of getting off my boat without a fuss.”
    Malen glared back at the man. Then his eyes slipped down to Marta’s nice things. He couldn’t let them be taken this way. Not by a cheat. So he simply started to gather them.
    Before he knew what was happening, three very large men had seized his arms, ripped Marta’s things from his hands, and were roughly escorting him out a rear door at the back of the third deck. He struggled, but the hands gripping his wrists and shoulders were like iron. A few moments later, his arms were free, pinwheeling as he fell from the third deck, tossed overboard into the dark harbor waters.
    Thrown overboard like a damn plunger.
    The cold bit his skin as he sank deep into the bay. He flailed wildly, trying to reach the surface. Every direction looked the same. He swallowed several mouthfuls of briny water before calming himself long enough to note the glimmer of light behind him. He got himself oriented and kicked hard. A long, desperate moment later he broke the surface and gasped for air.
    The three men hadn’t waited for him to emerge. And in the night, the sounds of laughter and shouts of loss and elation rolled out over the harbor like the calls of loons. Malen got his breath back and swam to the pier ladder, where he climbed up and sat, exhausted.
    His wet clothes clung to his skin. And he shivered in the cold night air, too weary just now to stand. Several moments later, the sound of boots on wharf planks came in muted rhythms, until two men stood on either side of him. They hunkered down, staring out at the harbor with Malen.
    â€œDamn cheat, Gynedo is,” the man on his right said in a confidential tone.
    â€œSaw the whole thing,” the other said. “Been there myself. Lost my own catch to the bastard.”
    Malen wiped his eyes and turned to look at each man. “What’s any of that to me?”
    â€œOnly this,” the first man replied, still looking off into the harbor. “We know where Gynedo lives. His dockside rooms, you understand. We have a mind to take back what we’ve been cheated out of. Or as much in coin, if that’s what we find.”
    â€œYou’re going to rob him?” Malen found the idea distasteful, but not unthinkable.
    â€œThat’s the wrong way of looking at it,” the second man answered. “He’s got things that don’t belong to him. Things he took unfairly. The strong law won’t see it that way. So we’ll go quiet-like to get them back. We’re putting balances right, is all. You in?”
    Malen imagined returning home, facing Roth