"I'll take three."
He held a pair then, probably of low value because he hadn't opened. Dumarest dealt and turned to the woman.
"Two," she said.
She had opened and must have at least a pair of jesters. A two-card draw meant that she might have three of a kind or was holding onto an odd card, hoping to make two pairs or more, or, more likely, in order to bluff. She hadn't raised Yalung's increase-unlikely if her hand had been strong.
Beside her sat the seller of dreams. Envir had a thin, in shy;tent face, which told nothing, and hands which told little more. He moved a pair of cards, hesitated, then threw out his discards.
"I'll take two," he said.
Like the woman he could have either a pair or three of a kind. He could also be hoping to complete a flush or a straight, in which case he was fighting high odds.
"One," said Yalung.
He had not fiddled with his cards, his hands, like his face, unrevealing. He could have four to a flush or a straight, two pairs, three of a kind and an odd card, or even four of a kind.
Dumarest threw out his own discards. "Dealer takes three."
He let them lie, watching the hands of the others, the tiny, betraying tensions of their knuckles as they saw what they had drawn.
"Twenty," said the woman. It was a safe, normal opening bet. Envir raised it.
"Make that fifty."
Yalung pushed chips into the pot. "I'll raise that fifty more."
Dumarest looked at his cards. He had drawn another eight and a pair of ladies. A full house.
"Dealer raises that by fifty."
The engineer hesitated, scowling, then threw in his hand. The woman stayed. Envir cleared his throat.
"Well, now, this promises to be fun. I'll just meet that last raise-and lift it another two hundred."
"That's two hundred and fifty to stay," mused Yalung. "I'll raise by another hundred."
Dumarest looked at the pot. It held over a thousand. If he raised it would give him a chance to raise again later- but both Envir and Yalung had seemed confident. The woman, he guessed, would drop out. Envir might stay, in which case the pot would go to the one with the best hand.
"Dealer stays," said Dumarest.
He thought he saw a shadow of disappointment cross Yalung's face, then turned his attention to the others. The woman, as he had guessed, threw in her cards, displaying the pair of jesters on which she had opened. Envir hesitated then made his decision.
"I'll raise a hundred."
"One hundred?" Yalung leaned forward, counting the chips in the pot. "There is just over seventeen hundred there," he mused. "According to the rules I am allowed to raise to the full extent of the pot. So I will do that. I meet your raise, my friend, and add another fifteen hundred." He smiled at Dumarest. "It will now cost the dealer sixteen hundred to stay. An interesting situation, is it not?"
"No," said Dumarest flatly. "I cannot stay. I haven't the money."
"But surely you have items of worth?" Yalung looked at Dumarest's hand. "That ring, for example. Shall we say a thousand?"
It was a tempting proposition. Envir had drawn two cards and could be pushing his luck with a straight or flush, both of which he could beat. Yalung could be bluffing, using his money to buy the pot, also maybe holding a flush or straight. But, against that, Dumarest could only gain to one for his money if Envir dropped out and, if he raised, he would be unable to stay.
"Dealer drops out," said Dumarest, and threw in his cards.
He heard the quick intake of breath from those who stood around the table, Lallia among the watchers, Lin at her side.
Envir sucked in his cheeks and slowly counted his chips. "Damn it," he said. "Damn all the luck. Well, to hell with it. I think you're bluffing." He pushed forward a pile of chips. "I'll see you!"
Yalung slowly put three tens on the table. "Is that enough?"
"Like hell it is!" The seller of dreams glowed his excite shy;ment. "I've got a flush. That means I win."
"Not quite." Yalung put down the rest of his cards. An ace and another ten. "Four tens. The pot is mine, I think?"
Envir cursed in his disappointment.
VII
joy was at carnival.
Streamers of colored smoke hung in the air, luminous in the dying light, and from all sides rose the sound of music and gaiety. Tents, booths, collapsible shops, the open rings of combat and the closed enclaves of sensory titivation, jug shy;glers, tumblers, contortionists, men who promised eternal hap shy;piness, and harpies who roved, hard-eyed and falsely charm shy;ing, offering pleasure to those who had come to join in the fun.
"We could do well here," said Lallia as she stood beside Dumarest at the head of the ramp. "When it gets really dark I could get to work. Drunken fools won't object to a
woman's caress and they'll be too bemused to guard their pockets. With you to take care of any trouble we could clean up."
"No," said Dumarest.
"Why not?" Her tone was mocking. "Morals, lover?"
"Sense. The risk is too great for the reward."
"We need money," she insisted. "Your share is hardly enough to buy me some new clothes. Can you think of a better way to get it, Earl?"
He ignored the question, looking instead at the ships lit shy;tering the field. Mostly they were old, battered, traders like the Moray, but a few were new and one was big. A vessel strange to the Web and one which could be heading Out shy;side. The woman at his side he walked towards it, climbing the ramp to the open port. Shadows moved within the dim interior and a man, neat in his uniform, eyes and face hard, stepped before him.
"You want something?"
"A berth if it's going."
"You from the Moray?"
"Yes," said Dumarest.
"Then forget it," said the man. "There's no berth going especially to anyone from that hulk." He glanced at Lallia. "Your woman?"
"His wife," said Lallia. "What have you got against the Moray?"
"Personally, nothing," admitted the man. "But her reputa shy;tion stinks. If you'll take my advice you'll forget to mention her. Say you're from the Argos or the Deltara-both of those left just before the carnival."
"I'll remember that," said Dumarest. "If you haven't got a berth then how about traveling Low?"
"That might be possible." The man hesitated. "Look, I can't give you a definite answer until the captain tells me what space we'll have available. You'd better come back later-we're not due out for a couple of days yet but as far as I know if you can pay you'll get passage. Fair enough?"
"Thanks," said Dumarest. "I'll be seeing you."
He was thoughtful as he walked towards the edge of the field. The other ships would be similar, with only a single man in charge or locked while their crews went about their business or pleasure. Lallia touched his arm.
"Did you mean that, Earl? About leaving, I mean?"
"Yes."
"And me?"
She was worried, he could tell it by the way she clung to his arm, the expression in her eyes. "You'll come with me," he promised. "The Web is no place for a woman to be stranded."
Her smile was his reward. "Thank you, lover. Now let's go and get ourselves some fun."
They passed from the field into a welter of noise, con shy;fusion, and frantic activity punctuated by shouts, shrieks, and bellowing laughter. A procession weaved down the street, monstrous heads bobbing in fabricated distortion, voices echoing from the diminutive bodies.