‘Search me,’ growled Gremble. ‘But the Archduke ain’t happy about it, I bet. There’s already all them rumours about the Archduchess, how she’s secretly a daemonist and that. You know they say the Archduke has a regiment of golems helping guard his palace in Thesk? And that he’s planning to make more regiments to fight on our front lines?’
‘Didn’t know that,’ said Frey.
‘It’s what they say. They say the Archduchess is behind it. They say that’s why they’re doing all that stuff to undermine the Awakeners. Awakeners and daemonists hate each other.’
‘Yeah, I gathered,’ said Frey, thinking back to his earlier conversation with Crake.
‘And now there’s Hengar behaving like this . . .’ Gremble tutted. ‘You know, I always used to like him. He’s a big Rake player, you know that?’ He folded his arms and sucked his teeth. ‘But now? I don’t know what that family’s coming to.’
‘Speaking of Rake, are you gonna bet?’
‘Five bits!’ Gremble snapped.
‘Raise five more,’ Frey replied.
‘I bet all of it!’ said Gremble immediately, piling the rest of his money into the centre of the table. Then he sat back and looked at his cards with the air of someone wondering what he’d just done.
Frey considered for only a moment. ‘Okay,’ he said. Gremble went pale. He hadn’t expected that.
Frey laid down his cards with a smile. ‘Four Priests,’ he said. Gremble groaned. His own four cards were the Ace, Ten, Three of Wings and the Lady of Wings he’d just picked up. He was going for Wings Full, but even if he made it, he couldn’t beat Four Priests.
Unless Frey drew the Ace of Skulls.
The Ace of Skulls was the wild card. Usually it was worse than worthless, but in the right circumstances it could turn a game around. In most cases, if a player held it, it nullified all their cards and they lost the hand automatically. But if it could be made part of a high-scoring hand, Three Aces or a Run or Suits Full or higher, it made that hand unbeatable.
If Frey drew the Ace of Skulls, his Four Priests would be cancelled and he’d lose everything.
There were two cards left on the table, face down. Gremble reached out and turned one over. The Duke of Wings. He’d made his Wings Full, but it didn’t matter now. He sat back with a disgusted snort.
Frey reached out for his card, but there was a commotion behind him, and he turned around as a tavern-boy came clattering down the stairs.
‘Did you hear?’ he said urgently. Scrone jerked in his chair, startled halfway out of sleep, and then slipped back into unconsciousness.
‘Hear what, boy?’ demanded Foxmuth, rising.
‘There’s criers out in the streets. They’re saying why the parade got cancelled. It’s because of Hengar!’
‘There, what did I tell you?’ said Gremble, with a note of triumph in his voice. ‘They’re ashamed of what he’s done, and so they should be!’
‘No, it’s not that!’ said the boy. He was genuinely distressed. ‘Earl Hengar’s dead!’
‘But
