The gambling house was not that impressive from the inside either, the air was full of smoke from the n and won with a cigar in their mouth as they took puffs and exhaled the rest outside.
But there was sothing else layered with the smoke, it was much worse than tobacco, it was greed and desperation. The dice clattered in uneven rhythms as cards slid across the polished wood tables.
Cassian’s gaze was still on the man he saw in the corner, surrounded by won. But his gaze was not ant to invite attention, only for him to gauge out his opponent.
He then looked around one last ti and saw guards stationed along the edges, though they were not armored but they were still there. And their purpose was to watch the hands of the fixers.
Cheating was not forbidden, it was more or less regulated. Just then a man cursed under his breath as a pile of gold coins vanished from his side of the table. Another man got up quickly, only to freeze as the guards shifted slightly. In the blink of an eye he sat down again.
Cassian took a few steps forward all the while the man, well half a man according to Cassian moved to a table to play.
"Left side." Martha murmured softly, her voice was barely audible for others beneath the noise. "It’s high stakes."
Cassian nodded as he had already seen it, his target went to the sa table. It was a table slightly removed from the rest and was even larger and cleaner. The players there were peculiar from one glance at them.
They didn’t drink anything, nor did they show any unnecessary movents. They were simply quiet and focused on the ga. Then the center seat of the table was occupied by a short man, he was not hunched at all.
His feet were firmly planted and his back was straight.
The dealer started, his hands were steady but not like they were before he joined.
There was so sort of tension lingering in the air. Normally people would insult or comnt on such a person but no one did.
As Cassian moved closer to the table, he saw the gaunt looking man closely. He had dark brown hair cut short. A full dark brown beard covered his face.
He wore a simple suit and a white shirt underneath it. Seeing it all gave Cassian enough information to know so stuff.
He was definitely the target, and not so random human with dwarfism, Little Joe. Cassian could’ve joined the table already but he didn’t. He circled the table once slowly while Martha followed him, taking notes of things on her own.
Cassian finally stepped forward and took an empty seat. The dealer was hesitant for a fraction of a second before he continued. The others at the table spared him brief glances, as they asured, dismissed and returned to their own calculations for the ga. Little Joe did not look at him at all.
The cards were dealt and Cassian played. At first he feigned ignorance and it was nothing remarkable. A loss, a tight win followed by another loss. They matched the tempo of the table and tried blending in.
Slowly he shifted, from deliberately losing he made slight delays before placing a bet. He also changed his rhythm and began to read them. Not only their cards but the person as a whole, their habits. The way one man tapped his fingers before he bluffed and the way another leaned forward when holding sothing strong.
Cassian waited but soon he shifted the ga in his favour. It was enough to not alert the guards but was enough to disrupt the pattern.
The dealer’s hands beca tighter as one of the players folded earlier than he should have while the other one stayed longer.
Little Joe observed the table and a small chuckle escaped his mouth. And just with that his coins paused.
For the first ti he was hesitating just a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Cassian placed his bet and won. Then without looking at anyone in particular, only the table he spoke.
"Strange," he said, his tone mild. "I expected more from this table."
It wasn’t loud, it didn’t have to be loud to get his point across. One of the players frowned as irritation flickered across his face. Another shifted in his seat, so that he could intimidate Cassian with his height. But Little Joe placed down a chip on the table which made him stop,
Then he looked up, he didn’t look at Cassian rather the other two and assessed the situation.
"You play as if you’ve already decided the outco and that outco would never change?" Joe said, his voice deep and even.
Cassian t his gaze. "I prefer knowing the odds."
There was a pause that followed, Joe looked at him more clearly. "You’re not here for the ga," Joe said.
It was not a question, it was a declaration which didn’t need any confirmation from Cassian.
Cassian didn’t say a single word, he gathered his winnings and stacked them neatly before pushing it towards Martha who was putting it into a leather pouch.
"I’ve seen enough, Mr-?" He said.
"The na is Joe, Little Joe is what people like to call."
Cassian got up from the chair, turned and walked away. Martha followed him without a word, her hands held a leather pouch filled to the brim with gold coins.
Behind them the ga continued but the rhythm had changed.
Cassian and Martha stepped outside, the night air felt colder and cleaner. Cassian didn’t slow down and stepped into the narrow street. Martha scanned the surroundings while following Cassian.
"They’ll follow," she said.
"Of course." He nodded and said.
Just then they heard footsteps behind them. It seed there were about twenty of them. Twenty against two was overkill but it was ti for the real ga to begin.
***
[Chapter 22 - Ragebaiting a Gambler]
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