Geralt unveiled the map, tracking his course from King's Landing to Harrenhal, as the boat careened slowly down the Blackwater. It had been two days, three remaining and he along with the sailors were losing their composure.
"My men are on edge."
Osmund Kettleblack. He'd seen the man in King's Landing and liked him even less up close.
"Is that so?"
"When my men are on edge they start raping. That or killing each other."
"In that case the fault lies with the commander."
"I don't like you Geralt. You reek of piss. Have eyes like a snake and hair like an old man. You'd best watch yourself. Cramped up and in tight spaces things can get heated on ships."
"And I don't like you either, Kettleblack. You're a two bit rapist with neither discipline or charm who made it this far through nepotistic connections. But I agree with you about the last part. So best watch your back."
Osmund drew back as if winding up for a punch before being interrupted by a nearby cough.
"Gentlemen, some of us are trying to enjoy our trip."
The man, sitting at a table surrounded by sailors was dressed well, clearly of noble birth, and with a smile plastered on his face. His clothes were bare of ornaments or of valuables. All except for a mockingbird pin stitched to his neck. One look from Osmund and his next few actions told Geralt all he needed to know about where he stood.
"We're not finished, Snake Eyes. Not by a long shot," said Osmund as he left the room. The strangers brown eyes rested on Geralt's.
"Clearly Ser Kettleblacks men aren't the only ones on edge. You look distressed. Perhaps clear your head with a game of blackjack?"
Five hundred dragons provided by Varys, enough for decent armor and equipment for a new Roach, though trifling for anything of high value.
He'd made a name for himself both through Gwent and dice poker, though his acumen with blackjack was scarce. If there was one thing Geralt could be called however, it was 'adaptable' having quickly picked up the former dwarven game before placing first in Novigrad's Gwent Tournament.
"Don't mind if I do."
"Good, good. Do you need an explanation or do you already know the rules?"
"I could use refresher course, that's all."
His smile never left his face and Littlefinger continued. "Player get five cards over the course of a round with the highest value hand winning that round. There are fifty two cards in a deck and thus innumerable combination but the most valuable is a royal flush: king, queen, joker, ace, all of the same suit. There are four suits: club, diamond, heart, and spade.
"Sounds more like Poker than Black Jack."
"Poker?" A rare look of confusion ran across Littlefinger's face. And was just as quickly gone.
"I think I know the rest. Combination pairs are worth more than unpaired hands with a few special ones like Full House or a Straight."
"Astute, and also correct."
"Let's play."
Both men rolled out their cards and put their chips on the table. Littlefinger was fishy, an idiot could tell that much but the card sharks were always the most gullible.
"Straight."
"Two Pair." Peter laid out his cards and shrugged, accepting defeat.
The dealer laid out a new a set of cards, prompting Geralt to overlook his hand. 'Six of Hearts, Six of Clubs, Two of Clubs, Three of Diamonds.' Summation. 'Two Pair.'
Littlefinger did the same.
"I have three of clubs and a one of diamonds. You can raise on this one."
He paused, "Am I lying, Geralt?"
Experienced as he was in the courts of Emyr and King Foltest Geralt could see subterfuge. The Lodge used plenty and in his line of work a gullible Witcher was soon a dead one, just like Gaetan, who'd been scammed by a client.
"No."
"No," Littlefinger laid out his cards. Three of clubs and One of diamonds, just as he stated.
The dealer once again began to dispense the cards.
Queen of Clubs, Queen of Spades. 'Two Pair, so far,' Geralt thought. 'I'd better raise.'
"Raise."
Littlefinger's left eyebrow rose.
"Raise? Are you sure about that?" The coinmaster smirked.
Two Pair was a solid hand but it was possible that Baelish had Three Pair or even a Straight. That would beat his Two Pair handily.
"Raise," Littlefinger added. The dealer took four more chips and placed them into the growing pile.
'Three Pair,' Geralt was in luck. The dealer had dispensed the third card prompting Geralt to look down at his newest addition.
"Raise."
"Again?" Repeated Littlefinger.
"Yeah. I'm sure."
"Fourth Street," the dealer laid down the next to last card.
"Raise," repeated Geralt.
"Determined to get me off your tail, eh? Very well. Raise."
Geralt cursed. It could be a bluff, but the chance of that was rapidly disappearing.
"Call."
The dealer laid down the River and Littlefinger revealed his hand.
"Full House. That's beats your Three Pair."
The dealer slid four hundred dragons worth of chips to Littlefinger. He smiled.
"Looks like you're in a bind."
Geralt silenced a frown. Those were Varys's dragons, and without three hundred buying armor would prove difficult.
"The flop," the dealer detachedly laid out the first card.
'Ace of Diamonds'
"Call."
Geralt maintained his poker face, allowing not a muscle to move as the dealer dropped the second card, a Four of Clubs.
"Fold."
"Getting cold feet?" Littlefinger surmised and Geralt didn't answer. He shuffled his cards.
"You know, Geralt. I expected a lot more from the eunuch's new lapdog. I do hope this money's not taken from his account."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Geralt eyed the first card of a new flop.
'Joker of Clubs.'
The second.
'Ten of Clubs."
He called as the third card was dispensed.
'Nine of Clubs, Eight of Clubs.'
"Raise."
The dealer revealed the final card, heaven or hell, determining the hand's status as a Flush or a dud. Peter could scarcely keep from licking his lips.
"Straight Flush. That beats your Full House, Baelish." And for the first time he relaxed his face and let a smile creep on it. "I hope that's not taxpayer money."
"I wouldn't think it," Littlefinger replied.
The dealer slid half of Geralt's lost dragon's back at him. He could quit and still afford the armor. He pawed the dragon's sitting in his pocket. 'But if I play I can have castle steel.'
"Raise."
Littlefinger sweated, Geralt sweated. And the dealer dispensed the second card.
"Raise."
"It's a bluff," Littlefinger added. The dealer dispensed the third card.
"Raise," Geralt upped the ante.
"Raise," and Littlefinger responded. The pot was now twice as large as when they started. The dealer dropped the next to final card. The two men glared at each other from across the table and Geralt opened his mouth.
"Raise."
Staring up at him were five Diamonds: a Ten, a King, a Queen, an Ace, and a Joker.
"Royal Flush."
The coinmaster stared at Geralt's hand flabbergasted.
"I'm out," said Littlefinger, "While I still have my shirt."
Amidst a group of sleeping sailors and a delighted Witcher Baelish departed from the table.
"By the way," said Littlefinger, looking back as he walked away, "the King's Road is arduous this time of year."
A threat as with Kettleblack? A smirked greeted his face and he tossed Geralt a penny.
He smiled.
"One for the road."