Amos wiped the sweat off his forehead, but the heat was still suffocating him. He loosened his collar, but it didn’t have any effect, so he took his turban off. It was a cool, winter day, but his dried, curly hair stuck to his head, drenched in his sweat. What’s going on? Why am I losing everything?
Amos thought he was fighting on equal grounds with Roy, since they both had wins and losses, but when he actually took the time to calculate his losses, he realized he lost everything. The right side of the board — where he’d put his rare cards — was empty. On the other hand, the right side of Roy’s board was stacked with rare cards, attracting everyone’s eyes, as if they were precious stones.
It was a devastating loss. Not only did Amos lose the crowns Roy paid the troupe, he even lost Vesemir, his gold card, and his Necromancer, a silver card. He went through a lot to get those cards, since they never showed up on the market.
This sly little fox! He finally realized what was going on. Roy might’ve looked like an inexperienced boy, but ever since the game was underway, he’d been luring Amos in like a fisherman waiting for his fish to bite the bait. When he’d realized what was going on, he’d already lost everything he had. But he’s just a boy? Impossible! Is he a prodigy?
Amos looked at Roy seriously. He wondered if Roy knew what he was thinking or if he was cheating. He always turned the tables and took Amos down. Even if he wasn’t the best player, he was among the top. Amos knew he couldn’t afford to stay arrogant anymore, so he pleaded sheepishly. “Um, Roy. Can you… Can you give me back my cards? Every Gwent performer worth their salt has a gold card, you know. Those cards are the prize of my trade.” Amos squeezed a tear out. “I can’t live without them. My life’s gonna be a mess.”
“I see.” Roy threw him a look. “How much are you going to pay for your life, then?”
“Um…” Amos froze. “I keep all my money back in Vivaldi. I can take it out once we’re at Ellander, though. I just want the cards. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed with the price.”
“We’ll see about that when we’re in Ellander.”
“Is there really no room for discussion?”
“Winners keepers. You can’t be a sore loser, right, Mr. Gwent performer?”
Amos flew into a rage. If fury could burn, the whole place would’ve been razed to the ground. But then he glanced at Letho. Even though Letho had his eyes closed, he still struck fear into Amos’ heart. Since he couldn’t do anything, Amos snorted and left the place. “I’m done.”
Then Roy said, “You might win the next game. I have Yarpen Zigrin here, you see. It’s a gold card.”
Amos stormed away, while Roy beamed. He’d won back his crowns and a gold Gwent card as a bonus in just a few games. “The bouncer back in Walls Inn said the Gwent tournament would start in the north soon.” I’ll have to take part in it in Ellander if I get the chance.
***
Letho’s guess was probably right on the money. The caravan was out of the monster’s territory a short while later, and they weren’t attacked either. The next couple of nights were uneventful, though Roy tended to most of Letho’s needs, so Letho spent most of his time recovering. Thanks to that, he regained part of his strength.
Also, Amos seemed to be really salty about his losses, so he asked his troupe members to challenge Roy. Roy, ever the welcoming boy, accepted their challenges and made a small fortune.
Since then, everyone looked at him weirdly. They were fearful, but also angry. The only one who ever won against him was Eveline, and that was only because Roy let her. When Amos found out about that, he stopped haunting Eveline. He was ashamed to even talk to her, since it meant she was a better player than him by extension.
“At least he knows his place.” But he keeps looking at me like he has some plans lying in wait. Roy wanted to teach him a lesson, but he was on someone else’s turf, so he refrained from doing so.
He was also annoyed about something else. The troupe had been keeping a close eye on them, albeit subtly at times. But that couldn’t escape his perception. He could feel the members’ eyes on them at all times. Even Eveline was supervising him, and she was genuinely nice to him. Everyone else was just pretending to respect them.
He never felt so annoyed before, not even back in Kaer or Mount Carbon. It was the first time he felt that upset when someone so blatantly distrusted them. It was worse than facing off against a bloodthirsty monster.
He was a human boy to begin with. Even though he’d seen the discrimination faced by the witchers, the full effect didn’t hit him until he was at the receiving end. Letho once told him, “Monsters aren’t the first problem new witchers will run into; it’s the change in humans’ attitude. Most spend years getting used to the discrimination. Humans are social creatures, but witchers have to learn to live alone.”
I have to face monsters and humans’ bad attitude, huh? Best not to dwell on it. I should meditate. Roy started spending more time on meditation, just like Letho did. And half a day had passed since then.
Something interesting also happened over the next couple of days. Roy noticed Alan leaving camp one night with his owl, Arri. He went into the bushes outside the camp area, and he didn’t even bring any weapons with him. When Roy looked into it, he realized Alan was doing the same thing every night.
“Owls are nocturnal animals, so I can understand why it goes out at night, but why’d Alan go along? He’s not much better than a normal guy. He’ll get himself killed by going into the forest at night.”
Letho’s necklace didn’t detect any magic from the troupe members, so Roy knew Alan didn’t have any magical items on him. Alan kept bringing Arri into the forest every night, until the fifth day came.
