TheCorsair
Pēdicãbo ego võs et irrumäbo
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2013
The melody was the gentle twanging of oud and qanun and the whistling drone of the nay, rising above the babble of voices that filled the katra. Serving women in bell-bedecked layered skirts and vests moved through the laughing, singing crowd bearing steaming dallahs of coffee and karak chai, and sweetened tamar and laban, and fortified wines. here and there one or another of the women spun, laughing as she avoided the groping hands of merchants and sailors.
"Hear my cry Bajir, bringer of fortune!" called a man in one corner. "Show your mercy upon your son Yusef, who will build for you a temple with his winnings!" With that he cast the dice, watching them bounce and clatter and come up with a liar's straight: 1, 1, 2, and 3. "Behold!" he proclaimed, throwing down his tiles before scooping the dice up. "The Gods have heard my prayer! I am favored of them!"
Palming the dice he'd thrown, he dropped the house dice into the cup and passed them to the woman who sat to his right. She was a worthy opponent, one that had been steadily cleaning out his stake all evening. Perhaps the Gods had been kind to him, but he had found long ago that the Gods showered their blessings upon those who created their own opportunities. And so he had begun switching in his own loaded dice, just frequently enough to begin tipping the odds back in his favor.
The woman took the cup, and he allowed his eyes to linger on the generous expanse of coffee and cream flesh her blouse exposed. She was slim and well built, with long silken midnight hair, possessed of the grace of a dancer. Ever since he had begun switching the dice he had made it his mission of the evening to raise the stakes in hopes of drawing her into wagering her favors for the evening. "I wager ten endubis," he announced, tossing the gold coins into the center of the table. Then, with a flourish, he poured a goblet of dark wine and drank deeply.
"Ten endubis," he repeated, meeting her eyes. Then, with an ironic grin and a lifted eyebrow, he offered her the goblet. "Will you drink before you throw, radiant daughter of Edana? The lips of the favored of the Gods have tasted this wine. Mayhap you will drink deep of my blessing?"
"Hear my cry Bajir, bringer of fortune!" called a man in one corner. "Show your mercy upon your son Yusef, who will build for you a temple with his winnings!" With that he cast the dice, watching them bounce and clatter and come up with a liar's straight: 1, 1, 2, and 3. "Behold!" he proclaimed, throwing down his tiles before scooping the dice up. "The Gods have heard my prayer! I am favored of them!"
Palming the dice he'd thrown, he dropped the house dice into the cup and passed them to the woman who sat to his right. She was a worthy opponent, one that had been steadily cleaning out his stake all evening. Perhaps the Gods had been kind to him, but he had found long ago that the Gods showered their blessings upon those who created their own opportunities. And so he had begun switching in his own loaded dice, just frequently enough to begin tipping the odds back in his favor.
The woman took the cup, and he allowed his eyes to linger on the generous expanse of coffee and cream flesh her blouse exposed. She was slim and well built, with long silken midnight hair, possessed of the grace of a dancer. Ever since he had begun switching the dice he had made it his mission of the evening to raise the stakes in hopes of drawing her into wagering her favors for the evening. "I wager ten endubis," he announced, tossing the gold coins into the center of the table. Then, with a flourish, he poured a goblet of dark wine and drank deeply.
"Ten endubis," he repeated, meeting her eyes. Then, with an ironic grin and a lifted eyebrow, he offered her the goblet. "Will you drink before you throw, radiant daughter of Edana? The lips of the favored of the Gods have tasted this wine. Mayhap you will drink deep of my blessing?"