“It’s this one!” Holdric growled. He thrust his dagger down, pinning the card to the table.
“Yes, sir, you’re absolutely right,” Chumley stammered. “Today is your lucky day. You win the jackpot. I’ll even throw in a few gold coins for the lovely lady.”
“You’re a smart man,” Sieglinde said.
Chumley vowed to himself never again to try to take those naked rubes from the hills. It was just too dangerous.
Tariman the Druid watched, a gleeful smile on his face. For years, he sought a way to put the conniver in his place. These “hicks” from the country just did it for him, with no effort on his part. Leave it to the unclouded eye of someone unaccustomed to the city’s ways to see right through Chumley’s scheme. Tariman thought the leatherclad Holdric and Sieglinde might make splendid company for a round or two of ale.