Red Veld by Nicholas Rinth

Author:Nicholas Rinth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nicholas Rinth
Published: 2018-11-27T00:00:00+00:00

17

Vidal had always been a betting man.

It was one of the many traits Monet liked least about him. Vidal could name over a dozen other things she didn’t care for—‘How are you so bad at being a functional person?’ he recalled fondly in her voice—but gambling was perhaps the one thing that truly got under her skin. Although she wasn’t fond of it, Vidal had no intention of changing that particular aspect of his personality. By this point, it would be close to impossible anyway. He constantly started betting pools with Monet’s Potens in the Veld. Back when he was in the north, he’d even get the Elder’s to play along with him. Rocous was always the easiest to rope in.

Contrary to whatever they might’ve believed, Vidal didn’t bet for the thrill of the game or for the pouches, sometimes heaps, of gold—though that was certainly a good guess—he bet simply because he always wore the biggest smile at the end of it. His craftier friends had noticed that immediately, while others took to blaming their horrid luck. Then there was the occasional group that would smile smugly whenever they thought they’d beaten him. While it might not have always been apparent, Vidal never lost. This time would be no different.

People always assumed that his mind worked in abstract ways. That his imagination painted things into being, which was true in a sense. When it came to his shows, he was a free thinker; when it came to his speeches, he was a wild spirit. Even his clothes differed from the norm. But when it came to strategic manipulation, to how to best utilize his men, Vidal’s mind worked in bullet points. Organized and ordinary. As plain as can be. Once he crossed one out, he moved onto the next.

Today, it was finally time for the next step.

Vidal looked down at the playing cards he’d laid out before him. He flicked a card with a decrepit old man carrying a boulder on his back off of the table with a little more force than necessary. It flew under a sofa. Left to rot there until the maids came. Perhaps longer if they didn’t do their jobs properly. By the dust that always lined his upper shelves, he knew they never did.

Trapping two more cards with his finger—one, a regal mage with his familiar; the other, a wanderer burdened by chains—he moved them right into the middle of a pile of common gold sack cards, before shrouding his hand in flames.

They lit up brilliantly.

The two center cards, having been made of a different material, blazed differently than the rest. But even with their special covering and smoother surface, their smoke was visible, too, after a minute. Vidal watched their edges burn, before he threw in another group. A seeker at the top with a herd of Snuff below. He encased the sizable deck in a thin layer of ice, then stared as the fire continued to hum, slowly melting it.

Vidal doused the growing flame with water from a nearby pitcher before it could.

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