Ludo had never felt more embarrassed in either of his lives. He stood invisible near the hearth in the common room of The Gull’s Nest, and watched Teffania accept another round of cheers from the crowd gathered around her table.
Dice clattered across the worn surface yet again as a seven came up.
A farmer in a stained brown tunic threw his hands up. “Again! That’s the fourth time she’s called the number before the roll!”
Teffania swept the copper coins toward her growing pile without looking up.
“Third, actually,” she said. “But who’s counting.”
Ludo rubbed his palm over his face.
Please stop talking.
Zohbor moved behind the bar as he served his customers, but Ludo caught the glance the innkeeper shot his way. It was anything but friendly. Ludo mouthed the words
I know
and turned back to the disaster unfolding at the dice table.
The common room was packed for a weeknight. Mostly with travelers who came to town for the tournament.Whether to watch, compete, or use the chance to sell some goods. Meanwhile, Teffania had claimed the corner table nearest the stairs an hour ago, and she had only lost two or three bets since.
Ugh, what is this woman doing?
“Beginner’s luck,” a bald man with a scar across his chin muttered. Unfortunately for him, he’d already lost three silvers to her.
“You always make excuses when you lose your coin to a woman?” Teffy said.
The crowd laughed at her little barb. But Ludo didn’t. He edged closer to the bar, positioning himself behind a broad-shouldered man who had a strong smell of horse about him.
From this angle he could still see Teffania’s table, but most of the room couldn’t see him. It was just an extra precaution. He didn’t want to take too many risks when anyone there could be a god or sensitive to their presence.
Teffania scooped up the dice and held them out to the scarred man. “Your throw.”
The man snatched them from her palm. He shook the dice and let them fly. They bounced a few times before they finally settled.
“Four’s respectable,” Teffania said. She took the dice back and didn’t even shake them. Just tipped them from her hand like she was scattering seed for chickens.
And of course, she rolled a nine.
The scarred man stood up so fast his stool scraped across the floorboards. “She’s cheating. No one rolls like that.”
“Men and their bruised egos,” she clicked her tongue. “Check my sleeves if you want.”
She held out both arms. The sleeves of her tunic were plain wool, the cuffs were worn and unremarkable. There was nowhere a weighted die might be hidden. The scarred man stared at her outstretched wrists with a face that was quickly becoming bright red.
“Go on,” Teffania said with a bored expression. “I’ll wait.”
A woman near the front of the crowd snorted. “She’s got you there, Olrun.”
Olrun didn’t move. His jaw worked frantically as he tried to figure out a way to save some face. But finally he spat on the floor and shoved his way toward the door. The crowd parted for him with slight jeers and closed and closed around Teffy’s table again once he was gone.
“Then how?” someone asked. “What’s your secret?”
Ludo saw the answer form on Teffania’s face before she even said anything.
Don’t. Please, don’t say it. Just say you’re lucky and leave it.
“I’m blessed,” Teffania said.
Ludo groaned.
Can’t I get a break?
The common room suddenly went very quiet. Even Zohbor stopped wiping the mug he was working on as he shot her a glare.
“Blessed by who?” a patchy-bearded man asked.
Teffania picked up the dice and rolled them gently across the table. They came up eleven. “Ludo. The God of Games.”
She’s done it now.
Ludo wanted to sink through the floorboards. It should, theoretically, be possible. Since he could pass through doors. And honestly, it seemed like the best idea he’d had all day.
But he stayed where he was. Mainly because this would be his mess to clean up later.
“Never heard of him,” the bearded man said.
The scene that unfolded was all too familiar. Pretty much along the exact same lines as back in the village. Meanwhile, Teffania gathered her winnings into a neat little stack. Ludo could see that she was enjoying this since she had a huge grin plastered on her face while counting the coins. And it was a lot of coins.
“Tell us about him,” a woman’s voice called from near the window.
Teffania looked up. “What do you want to know?”
“What does he want from you? From anyone?”
Ludo held his breath.
Shit. This is dangerous.
Ludo couldn’t recall saying anything to Teffy about this sort of thing. So it was anyone’s guess what she’d come up with on her own.
Not just that, but the room was full of people who would carry the answer out into the streets of Solstcove before morning. He watched Teffania consider it. A cute frown appeared on her face before her eyes lit up.
“He wants people to enjoy life,” she said. “And to follow the rules.”
“What rules?”
“Whatever rules there are. Like the laws. Or things you agree on”
The bearded man laughed. “Is that it?”
“As far as I know.”
Ludo pressed his palm against his forehead.
Why didn’t you just say to follow the rules of the games they play? Oh, no. Is this because I said life is a game? I mean, I suppose that would make laws the rules of the game, but… surely there’s a god or goddess of laws out there.
That’s when a figure stepped forward from the crowd. He’d been standing near the back, half-hidden by the larger bodies around him. Ludo hadn’t noticed him until now.
Oh, come on!
The man was thin, and wearing simple, dark robes. A small wooden symbol hung from a cord around his neck, but Ludo was too far away to make out the details. His hair was greying at the temples and his face brought a memory of a strict instructor to Ludo’s mind.
“Blessings are not free,” the man said in a tone that expected people to listen to him. “Not from any god. There’s always a catch.”
Teffania glanced at him. But she didn’t recognise him as anyone she’d spoken to that night. “Who are you?”
“Father Cobus.” He dipped his head slightly, as it was the polite thing to do. “I serve the god Kallis. I’ve walked the roads of this kingdom for thirty years. Spreading the faith and teaching of my god. In all that time, I’ve seen new cults rise and fall more times than I can count.”
“This isn’t a cult.” Teffy frowned as she shot a glare at him.
“Isn’t it?” Cobus took a step closer to the table as the crowd scurried out of his way. “You say this god wants people to enjoy life. By all means, that’s a pleasant message. But it’s a dangerous one. What if it’s just lip service to turn the faithful from their gods, before you spring your trap on them?”
Ludo felt like someone was twisting something in his chest. He’d never think of ensnaring anyone. But it was true that he’d have to lure people into believing in him to increase his power. For his own safety.
But isn’t that true for every god? Why am I so bothered about what he’s saying?
Meanwhile, Teffania didn’t back down. “I’ve prayed to the most well-known gods my whole life. But they never answered me when I needed them. Ludo did.”
“And what did he ask for in return?”
“Nothing.” Teffy stated matter of factly while staring in his eyes.
Father Cobus smiled. But it was the kind of smile someone gave you when they pitied you. “My child, the gods always extract a toll for their help. At least our national gods are honest about their costs. Only charlatans and evil gods hide them until the debt comes due. Where does his temple stand?”
Teffania hesitated. “He doesn’t have one.”
“So, no temple.” Cobus flashed a smirk at her. “And yet he gives his blessings freely to anyone who rolls dice in his name?”
“I didn’t say freely.”
“Ah.” The priest’s eyebrows lifted. “So there is a cost.”
“You’re twisting my words,” Teffy blurted out.
Ludo watched Teffania’s jaw clench.
Just give up, Teffy. This guy’s just trying to drag you down with your own words
. But he knew her well enough to know she wasn’t going to fold. At the same time, she also wasn’t going to win this argument, because she didn’t know the answers any better than he did.
“Forget it,” Teffania suddenly said. “There’s no point arguing with someone like you.”
Ludo couldn’t help but grin.
Seems like she caught on to his game.
Father Cobus studied her for a long moment. But remained quiet. Seemingly unable to think of anything more to say.
In that moment, the room had gone completely still. Even the logs on the fire seemed to have stopped popping. Ludo spotted Zohbor staring at the priest with a hard expression.
“I’m not asking anyone to follow him,” Teffania continued. “I’m just telling you what Ludo did for me.”
“And what
did
he do for you?”
“He helped me win the games I was playing. Simple as that.” Teffy smirked, almost certain that she hadn’t given Cobus any room to attack her again.
“That’s just a gambling streak,” Cobus snorted. “And you believe this is divine favour?”
“I know it is.”
“Humour me then.” Cobus smirked. “Prove it.”
Teffania picked up the dice but kept her eyes firmly fixed on the priest’s face.
“Call a number,” she said.
“Eight.”
A moment later, the dice skittered across the table. There were some low chuckles and snorts as they landed dead on eight.
The rest of the patrons gasped since they hadn’t been paying attention to the gambling corner until the arguments. Ludo raised an eyebrow as he glanced at the notification that had just come in.
Faith +4
Sure, it was a small amount. But it was better than nothing.
Meanwhile, Cobus stared at the dice. “That proves nothing.”
“Then call another number.”
The priest’s mouth pressed into a thin line. He looked at Teffania, really looked at her, as if he wanted a hole to open up in the middle of her head. “Twelve.”
Teffania threw again.
“That’s six in a row,” the bearded man whispered to the woman next to him. “Maybe there’s something to this god of hers.”
Ludo snickered to himself as he watched the priest’s face and saw the exact moment the man’s certainty cracked. It was clear that Teffy had stolen the momentum out from under him.
“I will pray for your soul,” Father Cobus said quietly, obviously trying to cut his losses and run.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Teffy shot back.
The priest straightened his robes, as he shot a sharp glare at Teffania. “You should be careful, child. One day, your god may put you in chains instead of giving you freedom.”
His expression softened, and Ludo got the feeling he was genuinely feeling sad for her. “You would be better served putting your trust in a god who has proven themself over centuries. If you ever need help dealing with this, Ludo, then you may come find me at Kallis’ temple in the capital.”
With those parting words, Cobus vanished out the door. The mood in the room was a lot heavier now. But that didn’t last long.
The murmuring started up again. Quietly at first. But then it spread like a fire. Teffania, on the other hand, sat completely still. Her hands rested on the table on either side of her winnings.
She should be happy with how she handled herself. But he could see the priest’s words had gotten to her.
Zohbor suddenly appeared at Ludo’s elbow. He hadn’t made a sound as he crossed the room. Hell, Ludo hadn’t even noticed him vanish from behind the bar.
“Your follower has a talent,” Zohbor said quietly, “for doing exactly what you told her not to.”
“But, I didn’t tell her not to.” Ludo said with a frown. Then it dawned on him.
Oh.
He flashed a sheepish smile at Zohbor.
“Well you bloody well should have.”
Ludo watched Teffania as she began to gather her coins. The crowd was still buzzing around her, a few people pressed closer to ask her more questions. But she didn’t have the same enthusiasm to boast about Ludo anymore. The argument with the priest had left a sour taste in her mouth.
“That priest is going to talk,” Ludo said rather worriedly.
“Priests always talk.” Zohbor scoffed. “The question is who he talks to, and what they decide to do about it.”
“What do you think will happen?”
Zohbor gave him a long look. “Listen, kid. You’re basically still in diapers and your follower just announced your existence to a crowded inn. Right in front of a priest of Kallis. What do you think is going to happen?”
Ludo didn’t answer. He just watched as Teffania stood up from the table with her winnings clutched against her chest.
I don’t know. And that’s what worries me.