What is it about her? I asked. Every damned guy that walks on his hind legs gets near her for five minutes, he starts floating around with his tongue hanging down, banging into things. But Ive been around her for years. I can see shes got the right stuff in the right places put together about as good as you could want but I dont think I could get excited even if she didnt used to be the Lady and she wasnt married to the Old Man. Not that that was literally true. They had not even bothered to jump over a sword.

Swan shuffled. Cut?

I cut. I always cut. One-Eye taught me that.

Swan asked, You really dont feel it? Man, she comes around me and my brain goes south. And shes a widow now so...

I dont think so.

What?

She aint no widow. Croaker is still alive.

Shit. Thatd be my luck, too. You want to stack Cordy a hand, make him think hes got a winner, then skunk him? As soon as I shook my head he wanted to know how come I thought Croaker was alive. I evaded a definitive answer for the few moments it took Mather to return.

Blades too busy looking for an angle to use while hes close to the magic. You load me up again, Willow? No? Bullshit. Lets just pick them up and deal them over.

Aint this the story of my life? I grumbled. Look here. I had two aces, a pair of deuces and a trey. An automatic winner, damned near couldnt be beat. And thats a true natural, no help.

Swan snickered. Dont matter. You dont got anything to do anyway.

You got a point. Why dont you guys come over to Dejagore? Ill buy you a mug of One-Eyes home brew.

Ha! Competition, huh? Swan and Mather had gone into the brewing business back when they first came to Taglios. They were out of the racket now, among their reasons the fact that the priests of all the native religions condemned the use of alcohol.

I doubt it. The only thing good about their brew is it gets you skunked.

That was the only good thing about the rat piss we made, Mather said. My dear old daddy the brewmaster rolled over every time we tapped another keg.

We never laid any beer up, Swan countered. Soon as it was ripe we skimmed the scum off and poured it down Taglian throats. And dont buy that shit about his daddy, neither. Old Man Mather was a tax assessor who was so dumb he didnt take bribes.

Shut up and deal. Mather snatched up his cards. He did brew his own beer. And Swans old man was a hod carrier.

But a handsome one, Cordy. And a lover. I inherited his good looks.