Page 18 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

Ronan scowled, already regretting his decision to cave. The night had been so much more enjoyable before this fucker opened his mouth. Shaking his head, he returned his attention to his cards. An hour later, the game came to an end with Ronan winning the pot.

“Beginner’s luck,” one of his tablemates muttered with a good-natured scowl.

Since a couple of the gamblers had plans elsewhere for the evening, further play was suspended while the rest got up to stretch their legs or grab a refill before the next round began, providing Ronan with another opportunity to eavesdrop.

Once again, conversation centered on the High Lord and his tourney. Although this time he seemed to be listening to a husband and wife.

“You should really stop referring to it as the Tournament of Death, dearest. The High Lord’s Raven has ears everywhere.”

Raven?

“But that’s what it is. Only one will survive. What do you think happens to the rest? They float off into the sunset? Be reasonable, love. This is blood sport.”

“What better way to test the mettle of his champion?”

“Any other way. There is no honor in mindless slaughter.”

“The contestants know what they’re signing up for.”

“I’m glad our Gregor is too young to enter. What a waste, all those lives lost. And for what?”

“A chance at honor, dearest. Men have lost their lives over less.”

“It’s not right.”

“Hush, darling. The High Lord is fair, but he does not tolerate dissent.”

“I’m speaking the truth. That’s hardly dissension... ”

The voices trailed away, leaving Ronan with more questions than answers. This was the first time any of the patrons had spoken of their High Lord with anything other than approval or outright awe. From what he’d gathered from the various snippets of conversation he’d collected, their ruler was newly appointed, having made a name for himself after saving the prior High Lord’s life from some sort of attack. The city had been nearly razed to the ground, but he, along with his army, had arrived in the nick of time—though not before the man’s wife and daughter were lost. When his predecessor died a couple of months later—many claim from a broken heart—the citizens of Glimmermere overwhelmingly showed up in support of the hero taking his place.

Sebastian returned to the table a moment later. “What did I miss?”

“What’s raven?”

He froze in the act of taking his seat. “I think you mean,who’sRaven. And that’s a bold question for a man newly arrived in town.”

“Why, is it a secret or something?”

Sebastian looked around, dropping his voice. “The Raven is the High Lord’s chief spy. Very few know their exact identity, though it is widely assumed Lady Dovina holds the title. More importantly, and perhaps more relevant to you,mon ami, is that she has many in her employ. One never knows to whom they are speaking, so it is best to watch what you say,oui?”

Ronan wasn’t sure what the word meant but took it as some sort of affirmation check, so he nodded. Head swimming with all he learned, he decided to forgo another round of Diamonds and call it a night.

“I’m going to pack it in.” He did a swift calculation in his head. “You owe me seventy starling.” Ronan hadn’t quite gotten a handle on the various coins, but he knew the sum was no small fee.

“About that...” Sebastian’s throat bobbed, and he paled.

Ronan narrowed his eyes. “You better not be about to tell me you cannot make good on your debt.” The other gamblers had winnings enough to cover their bets, but Sebastian had started using badges, or what amounted to an IOU, about an hour prior.

“If you stay a while longer, I’m sure I’ll make back what I owe you with interest.”

“You haven’t won a game all night.”

“So my luck is about to turn.”

“Spoken like a true addict. I want my money.”

“Please, I’ll—” Sebastian licked his lips, his eyes darting around nervously. “I’ll make it up to you. It just... it cannot get out around town that I am...without means.”

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