"Please do," Jack agreed. He climbed back into his coach and signaled the driver. The man flicked the reins with a small sound of encouragement, and the coach rattled away from the manor house. Jack settled in for the long ride, thinking furiously about Dulkrauth's hidden agenda and secret goals. "Some Game," he remarked, considering the situation. "Murder, conspiracy, kidnappings, and all the brightest of Raven's Bluff socialites and sycophants to weigh as suspects."
"Did you say something, sir?" the coachman called from above.
"Do you know where the Cracked Tankard lies?"
"I do, sir, although I advise against it. A person of your station would find the place squalid and coarse, filled with lowborn ruffians plotting robbery, murder, and worse."
"The very place!" Jack smiled, even though the driver could not see him. "Take me there at once!"
The hour was now growing late, and the Tankard was filled with local merchants, laborers, and clerks who preferred to take advantage of the tavern's comforts over those of their own homes. Several huge roasts sizzled invitingly over the fire, and Jack comfortably settled himself in his usual place. Briesa had the night off, but Jack flirted with another of the barmaids and won himself an unusually large helping of beef. He had barely started on his dinner when a large boot came down in the middle of his chest and rocked him back on his chair, pinning him against the wall.
"Hello, Jack," said Zandria. She held a dangerous-looking wand in his face. "I've been looking all over for you."
Now I remember, Jack said to himself. The Cracked Tankard is the place I come to when I want people to find me, interrupt my dinner, and threaten me with violence. "I need to find a new tavern to frequent," he muttered. He looked up at Zandria. The mage looked moderately charred, with black holes eaten in her leather jacket and an extremely close haircut, as if she'd angrily hacked off hair too singed to save. "Dear Zandria, is this uncomfortable approach absolutely necessary?"
"Where are the ring and the dagger, Jack?" the mage replied. "I found the Tomb's riches; I fought a deep dragon to keep them; I lost comrades and friends in doing so. I have no patience whatsoever for your petty larceny. You stole prizes that I worked very hard to acquire, and I want them back."
"You chased off the dragon? Excellent! When and where shall we meet to count out my two-elevenths share of the loot?"
"Your impudence was tiresome the first time you crossed my path, you sniveling little worm," Zandria snapped. "How dare you bring up such a matter, when you abandoned the field and left my company to stand alone against that monster?"
Jack shoved Zandria's boot from his chest and stood up as quickly as the blink of an eye, jamming one finger at her. "How dare you bring up the circumstances under which I departed the fight, when you went out of your way to make sure I would not show up in the first place! We had a deal, Zandria, and you broke it before I did!"
"You insinuated yourself into my company! I didn't ask you to eavesdrop on my conversation with Ontrodes, I didn't ask you to illicitly copy my notes, and I most specifically did not ask for your help!"
"But you accepted my aid when I had something useful for you, by which I refer to the solution to the Guilder's riddle. You would not have found the tomb at all if it hadn't been for my interference, and you sought to reward me by cutting me out of my agreed-on share. So who's the thief here, dear Zandria?"
The mage's eyes burned dangerously. "Choose your words carefully, Jack Ravenwild. You are an instant away from annihilation.''
Jack deliberately turned away from her to straighten his chair and took his seat again. He drank one sip from his mug and wiped his hand across his mouth. "Very well. Sit down, dear Zandria, and we'll examine the situation rationally. Both parties have claims and both have damages, so let us try to find a compromise that suits the situation."
"I have no interest in negotiating with you. Give me what is mine, and count yourself lucky that you walk away in the shape you were born to."
"I have always responded poorly to threats. In this case, I will make an exception. We have the Guilder's hoard; I want my two-elevenths. And, aside from the hoard, we have the Orb of Khundrukar-presumably in your possession-which I also was promised a two-elevenths stake in."
"I made no such promise!"
"Examine our contract, Zandria. The wording runs something to the effect of 'all items and treasures discovered in the Guilder's Tomb and any other regions jointly explored.' The Orb is certainly included in that." Jack fished around in his coat pocket and found a small pipe. He rarely indulged in pipeweed, but this seemed like an appropriate occasion. He tamped leaf into the pipe and lit it with a minor magic. "I would be willing to forfeit my two shares if you will forfeit your claim to the Orb."
"Impossible," Zandria said. "The Orb is not subject to discussion."
"If we remanded this matter to the local courts, I am certain they would uphold my claims on two-elevenths of the treasure, and they would assign me two-elevenths ownership of the Orb." Jack puffed on the pipe a moment.
"However, I have no particular wish to engage in an ugly legal battle with such a dear comrade as you. I would prefer a more informal and mutually satisfactory arrangement."
The mage glared at him for a long moment, thinking hard. Then she shoved her wand back into a holster at her hip and drew up the chair opposite Jack's. "I'll see to it you receive your two shares of the hoard. You give me the magical items you stole. You are bound by that contract, too, and I have a nine-elevenths ownership of the ring and the dagger. Does that meet your requirements?"
Magical items? Clearly, Zandria believed that the ring and the dagger were enchanted, which meant that they were more than mere baubles to be pawned at the first opportunity. In fact, magic rings had a reputation for potentially concealing extraordinary powers. Jack had thought that the gems and coins he'd stuffed into his pockets were the prize for his efforts in Sarbreen, a few hundred crowns of loot quickly converted into cash. But if he had a magic ring and an enchanted dagger in his possession, he might have scored far better than he'd thought.
Of course, there was no point in acknowledging this to Zandria. Jack carefully controlled his reaction and frowned studiously. "I accept two shares for the two items for the sake of argument, as long as we add the value of the ring and dagger to the hoard before calculating my cut, but the Lady Mayor's advertised reward for your Orb is ten thousand gold crowns and a noble title. What value shall we place on that?"
"We cannot split a noble title," Zandria said slowly, as if explaining weighty matters to a child.
Jack smoked and nodded thoughtfully. "I propose this: we place eleven marbles into a bag, two black, nine white. We shake up the bag and hand it to an impartial stranger, asking him to draw one marble from the bag without looking. If he draws a black marble, I win the entire reward due the finder of the Orb. If he draws a white marble, you win."
"I will not settle this question by gambling! Who knows how you might fix such a game?"
"We seem to be stuck," Jack remarked. "Clearly, you want the title. I will settle for cash. I'll give you ring and dagger for two-elevenths of the hoard (including the value of ring and dagger!) You give me the ten thousand crowns for the Orb's reward and keep the title."