The sun had sunk beneath the horizon and the stars began to brighten in the western sky. The evening air was filled with laughter, festive music and singing. Decorative lanterns of various shapes and sizes hung everywhere illuminating the streets. The Festival of Handras; a celebration of the arrival of trade caravans from Amn. During the festival, local and exotic food and drink are readily available while the residents inspect the latest goods. Other activities included the Trader’s Brawl, Archery Competition, Tourney of Talent, and Heftiest Hog Competition. Among the most popular activities is the Knaves’ Challenge. Revelers would write riddles on paper notes and paste them upon any flat surface for others to find. People would crowd round to guess the riddles.

Cal, who just finished his latest performance at the The Jovial Juggler, mingled with the crowds of revelers in the streets of Beregost.  As he began to make his way home, a toothless old codger lisped “Nightfall” to Cal as he walked past. “The finest hour of the day.”

“Yes, it is a beautiful evening.” Remarked Cal.

“Giorgio, I have seen your performance earlier today. Please join us this evening.” The old codger said motioning to the ring of Vistani caravans.

Giorgio, Cal recognized the term Vistani used among themselves to signify outsiders. Before Cal could respond the old codger continued.

“I disrespected you and did not put any coin into your jar. Allow an old man to make amends.”

Cal was going to decline but thought better of it as it would surely be seen as an insult. “Sure, friend. I would be honored to share your table.”

The old codger escorted Cal back to the Vistani camp. With an ease that would amaze a ranger, the old codger sparked a fire to life in minutes using nothing but a flint block and some kindling. The children had collected wood since the camp was set, and now they begin to feed the flames, laughing merrily and jabbering to each other in their colorful tongue. One by one the Vistani finish their final tasks of the day and join the growing circle around the fire. Someone produced a violin, and after a few caring plucks to tune the strings he began to ply his bow, striking up a spirited melody. Soon the Vistani were clapping and singing. A beautiful young girl rose and began to dance around the fire, shaking a tambourine to the rhythm of the music. She spun and twirled her skirt around and around until Cal was dizzy just watching her. Suddenly she came to stop before Cal. Gently she swayed before him, the slightest trace of a smile upon her lips.

“Who will dance with Gitana?” asks the old codger. He then focused on Cal. “Hers is a rare invitation indeed!”

Cal smiled to himself and then at Gitana and accepted her offer. Cal was skilled enough to acquit himself with the Vistani and even amused some in the process.

Once the dance concluded, the musicians retired. The old codger announced that the time of the telling of legends had arrived. Once again, he focused on Cal.

Wordlessly Cal acknowledged the queue. He stood before fire and addressed the gypsy tribe. He spun a tale of romance and high adventure using sleight of hand and spells to great effect. Once again, the Vistani approved of his skill and showered him with applause and coin. Cal graciously accepted the accolades but moved as if he was going to leave the coins behind. Gitana gracefully rose from her seat and glided to Cal’s side and skillfully disguised a whisper in his ear with a kiss on the cheek.

“It will be seen as an insult if you do not accept the gifts.”

Cal slightly nodded his head in acknowledgement, smiled broadly at the tribe and waved his hands in gratitude of the applause and began collecting the coins. Gitana and the children assisted Cal. The children laughed merrily and jabbered at each other and Gitana and Cal stole looks from each other. Listening to the children, Gitana couldn’t help but laugh to herself at times and even flushed with embarrassment at one point. Even in the fire light Cal noticed Gitana’s skin redden.

“What?” Cal asked innocently.

“They think you should be my boyfriend.” She said trying to hide her face behind her long dark glossy hair.

“What do you think?” Cal asked with a roguish smile.

Gitana giggled with embarrassment before answering. “I think you should meet my Nana first.”

Gitana took Cal by the hand and led him to a rich and colorful caravan decorated with stained glass windows. Gitana knocked on the door before entering.

“Nana!” she called out. “I want you to meet someone!”

An old crone emerged from behind a beaded curtain. Her clothing was just as colorful as her caravan.

“Callixtus.” The old crone croaked. “Sit.”

Taken aback by being addressed as Callixtus, he did as he was told.

“I never go by my full name. I hate it. How did she know?” Cal thought to himself.

 Gitana, still holding Cal’s hand, sat so close to him she was practically in his lap.

The old crone smiled at her granddaughter and offered both of them a cup of tea.Cal graciously accepted the small, tulip-shaped glass. He took note of the unusual bright red color of the beverage before he took his first sip. It had a fruity aroma and a pleasant aftertaste. Cal nodded his head in approval of the beverage. Satisfied with Cal’s reaction, the old crone sat heavily in a cushioned seat opposite the couple.

“You may call me Madam Eva, Callixtus.” She said in a gravelly voice.

“How did…” Cal began.

“Nana is going to give you a card reading.” Gitana interrupted. “Your true payment for the story you told the tribe this evening.”

“Oh no, no, no.” Cal began in protest. “That is…” Cal stopped in mid-sentence as he saw the insulted look forming on Madam Eva’s face. “That is very generous of you Madam Eva. I would be honored.” Cal said recovering.

“Before I can do the reading, however, I must first uncover your past in order to learn your future.”

Madame Eva fell silent and still, a sudden shift that brought awareness of how quiet it was inside the caravan. Cal no longer heard the roar of crackling fire. The Vistani outside were not quiet, yet now they might not be there at all. His breath seemed loud in his ears. She took hold of Cal’s tea cup and stared deeply at the tea leaves, her eyes glazed over, the pupils and irises disappeared becoming solid white orbs. Her voice was low and deep when she spoke.

“Half a celestial, half a man, you are son of him called Marshal, I see you. You may not know your own heritage, Callixtus, but I do. I know of you indeed. You love the daughter of dragons; she has not yet unlocked her full power. Awaken the ghost of Argynvost and ask him to tell you more.”

Madam Eva placed the tea cup down and slipped her fingers into a black velvet bag, eyes closed, pulling out a card.

The Wizard

“Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. This card wishes to help you understand your enemy. I see a wizard’s tower upon a lake. Speak the wizard’s name, and let the servant guide you to that which you seek.”

The Trader

“Ah, this card tells of a holy symbol, an icon of great hope and protection. Look to the wizard of wines! In these troubled times, the treasure hides there, in wood and sand.”

The Rogue

“This…this is a card of great power. I see a weapon of vengeance, a sword of sunlight, lifted high into the air. I see a nest of ravens. There you will find the prize.”

The Ghost

“There are many souls in this land, but this card tells me that there is one who will aid you greatly in the battle against darkness. I see a fallen king of a fallen kingdom. He lingers like a ghost in a dead dragon’s lair, and will ask for but one thing in return.”

The Beast

“Your enemy is a creature of darkness and death, ever lurking. This card reveals him, I see it clearly now. A great hall, an ancient throne, a window shattered long ago. When you seek her, you shall find her there.”

Madam Eva’s eyes slowly returned to their natural shade of deep brown. “Go to Amn, Callixtus.” She said waving her hand dismissing the young bard.

“Thank you, Madam Eva, that was very…enlightening.”

“Thank you, Nana.” Gitana said as she took Cal by the hand and walked him out of the caravan.

Once they were outside, Cal looked at Gitana and asked “What do you think she meant by all of that? Wizards and ghosts? Son of a man called ‘Marshal’?”

Gitana shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “I guess go to Amn and find out?”

“Gitana!” A young man in the distance called out. “Does your friend play cards? Armand has chickened out and we are one player short.”

“I am done with him for now! You may have him!” She shouted back to the young man.

Gitana looked at Cal “That is my brother Arturi. He is a good man. You may go.”

“Done with me?” Cal said confused and maybe even a little hurt.

Gitana looked Cal In the eyes “Go play with the boys. Have fun. Come look for me when you are over the ‘dragon girl’.” She punctuated her sentence with a wink of her eye and kiss on the lips. She spun away from him doing a pirouette causing her dress to flair out. “I like you Cal. Don’t forget about me!”

Cal stood still with his mouth agape, his mind trying to process everything that just transpired. A friendly slap on the back disrupted his reverie.

“Are you done making love to my sister?” asked Arturi with a friendly smile. Before Cal could respond Arturi continued. “Com’on, the other players are waiting.”

 Arturi brought Cal to another caravan–this one was not as colorful as Madam Eva’s, and dimly lit. Five Vistani men sat around a table finishing the latest game.

“I’ll see your ten and I’ll raise you ten.”

“I call.”

“What do you have?”

“Full house.”

“That beats me.”

“Damn. You are a lucky bastard.”

Arturi sat in one of the two empty seats. “I found Armand’s replacement. This is Cal.”

Cal took a full measure of the men at the table before he spoke.

“Is this seat taken?” He said with a friendly smile

“If nobody’s in the seat, then it’s not taken, friend.” Said the current dealer in a friendly tone.

“I like the game the way it is.” Said an unhappy player.

“Well, I bring all sorts of pluses to the table. I hardly ever bluff and I never, ever cheat.” Cal said, trying to diffuse the situation.

“I don’t believe it.” The unhappy man said.

“Neither do I.”  remarked Cal with a smirk.

“I like the game just the way it is.” The unhappy man said again.

“What good is an empty chair?” said another player.

“Indeed.” Said another.

“I’ll bet I can change your mind,” said Cal. “I promise that I will lose for at least an hour.”

“Sounds good.” Said the dealer.

“My kind of player.” Said another.

“We’re playing Five-card draw. Please, sit down.”

“My name is Cal.”

“I caught that before, ante up.” Said the dealer.

“I’m in.” the players said in turns as they tossed their chips into the center of the table.

“You did say you’d lose for an hour.” Said one of the players.

“I’m a man of my word.” Cal reaffirmed.

“Place your bets.”

“It’s about time.”

An hour later the game continued.

“I’ll see you…and raise you…two-hundred.”

“Slow down, I’m running low on chips.” Complained the unhappy man.

“I’ll see your bet and… and raise you…two-hundred.” said Cal.

“I’ll call.”

One man seemed pleased with himself. “Two pair. Aces over queens.” He said with an air of confidence.

“Lucky for me, I had sixes.” Cal said with a grin. “Sorry.”

“Nice pot.” Arturi said.

“Broke your losing streak.” Remarked the dealer.

“That one shouldn’t count.” Said the unhappy man.

“Beg your pardon?” said Cal

“I don’t think that hand should count.”

“Any logical reasons why not?”

“My mind wasn’t on the game.”

 “What’s your name?”

“Nicolai.”

“What’s your occupation?”

“I’m a duelist.”

“I have to assume since you’re still alive…and playing cards with us…that you’re good at it.”

“Care to find out?”

Cal put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “Gentlemen, this hand definitely does not count. Take it all. Whatever you think’s fair, and I’ll be content with the leavings.”

“Have you always been a coward?” said Nicolai.

“I’m a historian. I want to become an old historian. You are a duelist. An exceptional one at that, from what I hear. If I went up against you, what chance would I have had? Answer? Zero. Absolutely none whatsoever. Come on, let’s just play poker. Who wants to play poker?” Cal raised his hand and nodded yes answering his own question. With the exception of Nicolai, the others at the table followed suit.

Then Cal asked “Who wants to see someone get killed?” Cal and the others put their hands down. Cal looked at Nicolai. “Let’s play poker.”

With the hostilities seemingly diffused the game continued for a few more hours.

“I’ll raise you one-hundred.” Said a player.

Cal looked at the pot and said “And I’ll raise you whatever that is. Looks like…

“Der’mo! I fold.” Said Nicolai.

A grinning Cal pulled the pot towards himself. Nicolai reached across the table and grabbed Cal’s cards. Nicolai became infuriated when he saw Cal did not have a playable hand.

“You said you never bluffed! I had a pair of aces!”

“No, I said I never cheated and I also said I hardly ever bluff. This is one of the ‘hardlys.’”

“You’ve been cheating the whole game!”

“What do you think I was doing during that first hour?”

Nicolai was silent.

“I was learning your ‘tells’. Your weakness comes when you get your hand. You shuffle the cards back and forth and act a little fidgety.”

“I just called you a cheat!” Yelled another player.

“You also called me a coward but I figured you were just teasing,” Cal added.

“There’s going to be a fight.” Said one of the other players.

Arturi got up and hastily exited the caravan.

“I’m going to cut you up, Giorgio!” Nicolai shouted as he drew a dagger from his belt.

“Hold on now.” Said Cal as he rose from his seat. “You’ve been drinking… a lot. And you played bad. Now whose fault is that?”

“Yours, you svoloch! It’s all your fault! It’s our time now!”

Two of the men hooked Cal’s arms with their own and dragged him out the caravan.  As the two men propped up Cal. Arturi returned with Gitana just in time to see Nicolai punch Cal in the jaw.

“Get your hands off him!” Screamed Gitana.

“We get him first!” sneered Nicolai as he hit Cal again.

Arturi faded into and out of the shadows and coldcocked one of the men holding Cal. Cal slipped out of the grasp of the other man holding him. Spinning, he threw an elbow into the gut of the man. The blow connected perfectly and he doubled over, his knees weak, and he fell to the ground.

Nicolai charged in swinging viciously with the training of a skilled warrior. But he’s slow, too slow. Cal ducked the blow, coming up with a punch of his own that landed on the side of the jaw. Nicolai staggered back and cartwheeled to earth. 

“You’re a pretty good fighter.” Arturi said to Cal.

“I’m glad they didn’t have time to kill you.” Gitana. said with a sigh of relief.

“Me too. That’s all in thanks to my lucky shirt.” Cal looked down and saw a tear in his shirt.

“All right! My shirt’s damaged! Damn! What the hell else bad can happen? You!” Cal shouted and pointed a finger toward Nicolai. “What did you say before? You called me something.”

“Nothing important.” Said Nicolai who was slow to stand up.

“He called you a gutless coward.” Said Arturi.

“I did not say that. I might’ve said a coward and a cheat.”

“Cheat?! Cheat?!” Cal said overreacting.

“But I was teasing.” Said Nicolai.

“Teasing?! I don’t like being teased!”

“My friend, I’m sorry.”

“Now I’m teasing you. Let’s play poker.”

The men dusted themselves off and went back into the caravan.

Gitana ran to Cal and tightly embraced him before he could rejoin the poker game. “That was truly amazing.” She exclaimed.

“I just get lucky sometimes.”