The small man in the green and black tunic zipped nimbly through the busy crowd, dodging and weaving through the vendors and shoppers. He was being pursued by three grim-faced men who appeared as though they might be inclined to cause him some distress -- if they could but catch him. They lacked the swift agility of the little man, however, and they lost sight of him for a moment as he disappeared around a corner.

The nimble man's name was Hamish and he was, as the colors on his tunic indicated, of the Caste of Tarn Keepers. An ahn or so earlier, after having delivered several sets of hobble rings to one of the tarn cots used by the City Guard, he decided to take the long way back to his own cot near the Stadium of Tarns and wander through the busy marketplace. As usual at that time of day, the marketplace was busy and noisy. Ar is the largest city on Gor and her marketplaces, for there are many of them, are teeming with the commerce of virtually every commodity available on the planet. Naturally, whenever there is such a large amount of money changing hands, there are always those who will seek to secure a bit of it for themselves.

Hamish had noted the "Bone & Shell" game and, having more than the usual dose of the Gorean's love for games of chance, observed it discreetly for a time. The game itself goes back beyond reckoning and is quite simple. A small bone is placed under one of three shells and the three shells are rapidly shuffled. The player tries to guess under which shell the bone lies. The odds on guessing correctly are, of course, one in three. The person who runs the game, however, commonly offers odds of five or perhaps ten to one, to whoever can guess the location of the bone. On the face of it, this would not seem to be profitable. This assumes, of course, that the game is honest. Such is rarely the case, although most Goreans tend to take things at face value and rarely look for deception from the outset.

There are a number of variables that can be added to the game to make it more enticing to the unwary player. Hamish noted that one man seemed to be rather successful at winning the game. He would then, having won several coins, graciously allow another player to step up while he vanished into the crowd. After the next player, or the next several, had failed to duplicate his success and wandered away, the man would come back and proceed to play again, winning again and declaring his good fortune in a way that garnered attention anew. Much good-natured gibing went back and forth between the proprietor and the patrons of the game. There was much activity, and always a great deal of laughter and shouting.

The trick, of course, as Hamish well knew, was that the bone, or one of its duplicates, could be removed or replaced at will by the proprietor. Thus games could be won or lost not by chance, but by skillful sleight of hand. Making money at the game wasn't a matter of outright cheating, but by "working" the player slowly, letting him win a bit at first, then lose, and back and forth. Gradually, although he enjoyed himself fully, the player was "milked" for as much as possible. The second man was, of course, a shill.

All this Hamish knew. Eyes twinkling with mirth, he "allowed" himself to be drawn into the game. With much gusto and merriment he joined in the boisterous game. He would win a little and lose a little and the small crowd would cheer or jeer. At one point he reached out and turned over a shell and the crowd cheered to see the small bone displayed. The proprietor, however, had a strange look on his face. Again and again, Hamish's luck seemed to be with him and he began to win steadily. As happy as Hamish and the onlookers seemed to be, the proprietor's mood began to grow foul. Subtly he tried to end the game, but everyone was having far too much fun. Gradually, as Hamish continued to win, he became, much to the amusement of the crowd, more surly and taciturn.

Graciously, Hamish announced it was time for him to be going. As he turned to leave, however, he was jostled by the crowd and the pouch in which he had been putting his coins seemed to split. A half a dozen bones clattered onto the table. Everyone fell silent as the impact of what they were looking at hit them. The game, of course, was itself crooked, but most Goreans would not be likely to think of that. Hamish had simply been cheating the cheaters. They could hardly have exposed him since that would have exposed them as well. Now, however, with the evidence in front of them, the natural conclusion was that Hamish was the culprit.

"Look!" Hamish yelled and pointed over someone's head, "Marlenus the Ubar returns!" As they turned to look, Hamish bolted in the other direction.

The three men chasing Hamish were the proprietor, the shill, and a third cohort who had been simply standing by quietly to aid in case of trouble. As Hamish sped around the corner, he spied a balcony protruding over the street. He hopped onto a barrel of paga that a startled man was rolling down the street and leaped high grasping the lower edge of the balcony. He vaulted himself up and spun around onto the balcony. As a Tarn Keeper, Hamish had been climbing and vaulting on tarn perches all his life. Accustomed to the mighty birds, it was entirely appropriate that he thought in all three dimensions.

His pursuers, on the other hand, did not. They rounded the corner in clumsy fashion and saw only an empty alleyway. Hamish had vanished. They remained in the area for some time but Hamish simply took to the rooftops and made his way clear.

[to be continued...]