Anya Rousselle

An excerpt from my first novel, Across Jaspen Bay.

Welcome to Valedonia
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CHAPTER ONE
~GABE~

Gabe and Edward had played cards all night. That in itself was not out of the ordinary, but Gabe was bored. When he was bored, he became restless. And nothing good ever happened when Gabe was restless.

It was time to have some fun.

Dawn’s grey light crept through the tavern’s perfectly polished windows. It revealed a suffocating haze within the room. By the time the sun fully rose, the place would be an oven. Gabe didn’t particularly care, but the players at the table pulled and fanned their cotton shirts away from their chests. Their sweaty aromas were relentless. They extended their arms to add their cards to the centre of the table in turn, wafting fresh odors in Gabe’s direction.

The sweltering summer had long worn out its welcome.

One of the players took the last trick of the round and Gabe peered to his right at his older brother. Edward’s fingers ran through his black hair and pinched the base of his neck; his tell on boredom.

Why had they stayed so long? Sure, the four strangers around the table had each insisted they could win everything back with one more game, but they’d already lost most of the rounds, and their money. A quick glance at each of them wiping their russet faces, brows furrowed, concentrating so intently on their hand reminded him why he was still there. He had hoped they would surprise him.
Hoped they would live up to their claims. How disappointing. They brought it on themselves, really.

He cleared his throat and gave Edward a mischievous smile. “Do you feel a draft?”

Edward raised a thin, black eyebrow and returned his brother’s glance as he collected his cards from the dealer. When the corner of his mouth pulled up and his sapphire eyes, much darker than Gabe’s own, shined with amusement, he knew Edward was thinking the same thing. “You’re right. I do feel a bit of a chill.”

Gabe turned in his sticky leather chair and glanced across the mostly empty tables to the bar. “Jean, would you be so kind as to close the window? My brother and I feel a breeze.” The snicker that escaped was quiet enough he didn’t think anyone had caught it.

“Don’t be a smart ass, Gabe,” chuckled the portly man with tight copper curls. The barkeep attentively wiped down the oak and brass bar. Beads of sweat glistened on his brow while a slow shake of his head, not a pause from his task, told Gabe he knew the brothers were up to their usual tricks.

“Close that window, and I’ll throw you through it,” warned the burly man sitting across from Edward. He had a thick Fandoran accent that clipped the end of each word and annunciated each letter. His dark hair was cropped short, accentuating his round face. Stout and barrel-chested, his deep purple cotton shirt was too heavy for the heat as evident by the sweat stains showing through.

“That might finally be exciting.” Gabe rested his elbow on the table and clenched the tokin he would add to the pile on his next turn. His arms flexed through the rolled up sleeves of his light blue cotton shirt. This brute wouldn’t dare challenge him, would he?

Gabe wasn’t really looking for a fight, but taunting overtired, irritable, card playing drunkards was amusing. The man probably moved as slow as he spoke, anyway.

“Would you like to find out?”

Maybe the night wasn’t a wash after all. He could have a lot of fun toying with someone who took things too seriously. The corner of Gabe’s mouth twitched and curled upward.

“Something funny?”

Gabe shrugged.

Their waitress approached the table with another round of ales as the players moved to the bidding round. “Don’t let Gabe get to you, Fergus. He’s just teasing,” she said, sliding the pint in front of the man.

“Thank you, Eleanor,” Gabe sang as she placed a pewter mug in front of him too. Her large chocolate brown eyes gave him a wink, and long, flowing blonde spirals bounced lightly as she floated back to the bar. The smell of roses and honey lingered in the air, a welcome change to the combination of both dried and fresh sweat his nose had almost become blind to. At seventeen, Gabe wasn’t really old enough to be drinking, but no one ever questioned it anymore. Distracted from the game by the waitress discarding the entrails of ale, Gabe felt eyes on him from the table. With a shudder, he forced his attention back and tossed in his tokins.

The scrawny young man on Fergus’s left looked at his cards and quietly placed them face down on the table. He was out. Gabe didn’t need to see the cards to know it was nothing more than a low pair and some off-suit face cards. The other two men would fold next round if they were smart, which would leave Edward, Fergus, and himself. Edward’s hand couldn’t beat him, but Edward never folded. Fergus on the other hand… He’d been a harder one to figure out.

While he contemplated the last few cards that might be in Fergus’ hand, the doors flew open with a bang. A petite young woman in a black dress with a red threaded bodice and ruffles in the skirt stormed into the pub. Her long, black hair fluttered behind as she sped over to the boys’ table.

Trouble.

“Edward. Gabe. Let’s wrap this up. You’ve been at it all night and now the sun is rising!”

The boys cocked an eyebrow at each other before turning to her expectant face. A sly smile emerged from the corner of Gabe’s mouth. “The lady says to hurry up.”

“Well… we wouldn’t want to get on her bad side, would we?” His brother’s grin matched his own.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Won’t be the last time.”

“Just hurry up!” she said, throwing her arms in the air. Her dark blue eyes, so much like Edward’s, bore into Gabe. She meant for him to hurry up and win. She spun on her heel, hitting his face with the tips of her hair and huffed back out.

The brothers burst into laughter.

“Sephine’s right though. We have commitments later today and Father will be angry if we are late,” said Edward.

“We’ll have time for a catnap first? I’ll never make it through all the nonsense without one.” Gabe let out a long sigh to wipe the grin off his face and looked at his cards. He assessed the pile of coins on the table and checked back to his cards. To keep his bets in, he topped up the pile with a ten-piece tokin, but for the sake of time, decided he’d better lay out. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll have to win and be done with it. We’ve run out of time and the novelty has long worn off. That…” he laid his cards on the table, “…is how it’s done”.

“You cheated!” Fergus bolted to his feet. The chair behind him fell to the ground with a clunk that echoed in the now silent room.

“No, my friend, I did not. You were simply outplayed.”

“I know you cheated! That… that waitress… she helped you! I saw the looks she gave you. You cheated and I want my tokins back!”
Fergus’s eyes darted around the room and sweat poured down the sides of his face. His accent grew thicker and had Gabe not been fluent in Fandoran, he wouldn’t have understood most of it.

“Oh, come on now, I didn’t cheat. You were an easy opponent. The waitress was just being flirtatious. If you couldn’t afford to lose, you shouldn’t have played.” Gabe stood and gathered the brass, copper, and silver hexagonal tokins into a purple drawstring bag he’d had looped on his belt. As he turned toward the door, Fergus appeared in front of him, practically out of nowhere. For a man of his stature, his speed caught Gabe off guard and hadn’t expected to be staring at the pointed end of a knife. “Whoa, now. I was just having a little fun. No need to get cranky, Friend.”

“Now, Sir, let’s not be a poor sport about this,” Edward said. A sly smile flashed at his younger brother, “Gabe’s been playing Tas since the moment he could count.” He too rose and stood beside Gabe.

Both almost six feet tall, the young men could have been twins, save for Gabe’s lighter eyes and thicker jaw, and Edward’s slightly leaner stature. Having his brother beside him gave Gabe’s confidence a boost.

“You don’t want to start another game you will lose, do you?” Gabe gave a chuckle and attempted to go around Fergus.

“I said, you cheated…and I want… my tokins… back.” Fergus’s knife was now inches from Gabe’s throat and the brother’s smiles faded.

From various tables around the room, the small group of onlookers slowly stood and gathered behind Fergus. One by one they drew short swords. Gabe should have known. Too many unfamiliar faces, Fergus’s frantic looks; he was making sure his men would back him up.

“Now, listen,” Jean, the barkeep, warned, “this is a peaceful establishment. You out-of-towners are welcome here, but not if you’re going to cause trouble.”

“You would think, that a fine establishment such as this would not tolerate cheaters either.” Fergus’s stare remained on Gabe.

“Gabe’s not a cheater,” Edward said. “He’s the best Tas player in Valedonia. You never stood a chance.”

Thanks Edward. Gabe tried not to smile.

“I know he cheated!” There was a new edge to Fergus’s voice, one that was shaky. He’d switched completely to Fandoran. Gabe calmly sized up his opponent. Eyes wide and frantic, legs shaking… his ability to reason clearly wavered. Fergus wasn’t going to be talked down at all.

Gabe hadn’t intended to cause a fight. He was just teasing. However, he was also never one to back down from a challenge, and the night had been rather boring. Might as well liven things up. He glanced over at Edward, who rolled his eyes and exhaled.

Gabe shoved Fergus backwards and the brothers drew their swords.

Anya Rousselle

Prophecy

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