The Jack of Hearts (House of Cards Book 1)

Chapter 10 | Bid or Bunch

The Ibheren city of Du'ol, the Lands of the Cluvani

The gathered crowd cheered and stomped their feet for the Iihamban performers.

Wind whipped up the side of the mountain, raising a chill on Rosalyne's arms. She looked up at Lord O'rian, still catching her breath. Her chest felt open and lifted as she inhaled the brisk air.

Lord O'rian pushed his locs back from his face and raised an eyebrow. «Not bad for an Aerti.»

A competitive spark matched his expression in hers. «I am a jaquelle of many talents.»

«Humility, chief among them.»

«I'm sure his lordship should hardly like me if I denied my merits, curtsied to him and said, oh no, sir—»

«I hardly like you at all,» he said combatively.

«Ah, ahh...» She raised a hand and pinched her fingers. «That means his lordship likes me some.»

She nodded regally. «Territory nobly gained in the name of Aertisia.»

Before he could reply something stung the back of Rosalyne's head.

Rosalyne whipped around and another rock grazed her temple.

"Jharagii!" The word, no longer the playful taunt of small children, was lobbed at her in a deep and hateful timbre.

Half a dozen Cluvani stared her down. They looked rough and worn (rather like herself), more thugs than warriors. The fringes of their tunics and sleeves rattled with wooden beads as they rolled more stones in their hands, and none wore their hair in any of the clans' styles. Iihamba, then. Wandering clanless.

Rosalyne raised her chin as one of the younger men coiled back his arm to sling another stone.

Lucas stepped forward and snatched it out of the air. He opened his fingers and let it clatter to the ground. He spat where it landed.

Clovis lifted his hands gently. "We don't want trouble."

Another man pitched a pile of manure at Clovis, striking him across the temple and knocking his spectacles from his nose. "Go home, snake."

Clovis grimaced, swiping the crumbling projectile from his hair.

One of the youths made to grab more manure off the ground but Lord O'rian stepped around Rosalyne and Clovis, shoulder to shoulder with Lucas. "These Aertisians are guests here — as you are — and protected by the Ibheren and our laws of hospitality."

The oldest ihamba — looking some two score older than the youth who'd thrown the rock — tensed, raising his shoulders, but faltered when Lord O'rian swept his cloak aside so the man could see the hilt of his sword.

"Walk away. They've done you no harm."

«Yet,» Lucas growled beside Lord O'rian.

"Are you going to loiter here all day?" Lord O'rian raised his arms. "Your words and pebbles may work on the Aerti but they do not frighten me. We will leave this city when our business is complete and not a moment before." He crossed his arms. "And if that bothers you, you'll need more than horse shit."

Rosalyne stepped up beside him holding the small welt forming on her brow. «His lordship, leave rats to their refuse. I am not overly offended.» 

He didn't look down at her as he replied, «I am.»

The older ihamba's eyes flickered between Rosalyne and Lord O'rian with a blatant look of repulsion. He lost his battle with caution, placing his hand on the weapon at his hip. "You're hosting vipers."