The Stranger - Max Frei [276]
Then I won six rounds so easily I was surprised myself. My theory about inheriting a sizable chunk of luck from your card-playing mentor proved to be a sound one. Here was the proof, clear as day. Sir Juffin must have a huge surplus of this blasted luck.
“Not having any luck today, Ravello?” someone asked with studied indifference from the nearby table.
Up to now, the other patrons hadn’t paid the slightest bit of attention to our game.
He’s probably the local champion, some sort of rescue squad. Now he’ll have to come to grips with me. In my joy, I ordered another glass of Jubatic Juice. I never thought I’d let myself go like this.
“No luck,” my partner admitted mournfully.
“Well, if you’re not having any luck, you’d better go home and go to bed,” the new gentleman advised. “The moon is out tonight, and you haven’t so much as glanced at it.”
“You’re right about that, Tarra,” my victim said with a sigh. “Today the only luck I’m going to see is when my head’s on my pillow. But Mr. Brando here isn’t tired yet, is he?” He looked at me quizzically.
Not a chance, I said to myself. I guess the idea was that this local ace would step in and save the day. Well, we’ll just have to see about that. I’m rather curious to see how it will turn out myself.
“I think I’m just getting the hang of it,” I said, assuming the bemused expression of a victor who has won by chance rather than skill. “But if you want to stop the game, I won’t insist.”
“My friend’s name is Tarra. As far as I know, his partner, Mr. Linulan is always expected home by this time. But Tarra is a solitary man. Maybe you’d like to keep him company?” Ravello asked. It seemed I was meant to take the bait; and take the bait I did.
Mr. Tarra closely resembled his predecessor. He even had the same silvery gray hair surrounding a long-nosed face of indeterminate age. Is it just coincidence, or a widespread Kettarian phenotype? I wondered. Maybe it’s even simpler than that—they’re brothers, and this is a family business. Without engaging in too much idle chit-chat, Mr. Tarra and I got down to work. Suffice it to say, the so-called Mr. Ravello had the temerity not to go anywhere at all, but just to move to the next table. Of course, I pretended not to notice.
I lost the first round without much difficulty. Evidently, my new partner really was an ace. I won the second, though, since my luck seemed to be just revving up.
“Two?” I suggested.
“Two crowns per game?” Tarra drew out the words. “Well, I’ll be, Brando. You’re a guy who likes to take risks, aren’t you? Three!”
“Three it is!” I tried my best to look like a fool you could reason with.
Then I won six games in a row. I realized that Mr. Tarra might also be overcome by a sudden need for sleep, so I quickly lost two in a row. My new partner played well enough that it didn’t take much effort to lose to him.
“Six!” he wagered, after his second win. I nodded, and then won almost a dozen games. It happened so fast he didn’t know what hit him.
“Good morning, gentlemen, It’s already getting light,” I said as I stretched and stood up.
“Are you leaving already, Brando?” Tarra asked. It seemed to have just dawned on him that his money was leaving with me. “You could at least give me a chance to win it back.”
“I wouldn’t advise it,” I said. “You’d only lose more. Don’t be sad, friend! You’ll get lucky someday, too. Kettari’s full of tourists, as far as I understand. It’s just that your moon is crazy about me!”
“Moon? Well, well, well . . .” my partner drawled in confusion. “Who taught you to play Krak, Brando?”
“My aunt. You’re lucky she hasn’t left her house in three hundred years. Don’t grieve, Tarra. There won’t be any more visitors like me in Kettari in your century. You really can play! I hardly had to try at all to let