It sounded plausible, but there were hidden points inexperienced citizens found difficult to grasp. Most understood that losing their wager meant losing the money. They did not understand so well that even if they won, they might receive very little. The money they received was a share of the pool, so the more money placed on one side, the lower its payout had to be. And as expected, tremendous numbers of people began to gather. Leonis, who had come to watch the operation with his hands behind his back, was called away and made to sell drinks.
The payouts announced on the first evening were seven times the stake for Gene, 14.6 for Nikephoros, and eleven for a draw. On the second evening, Gene stood at 4.8, Nikephoros at 48.1, and a draw at 12.3.
By the final evening, the Brothers of the Hawk too could not stop murmuring about this fascinating wager, though they promptly fell silent whenever Gene appeared. He was not unaware that it existed. On the first day, however, he had heard of it and spat out, “They’re doing very good business with someone else’s life.” No patrolman had been bold enough to bring it up before him again.
That evening, Gene was out. When Terry and Reddinus returned from Sachet Square, every eye turned toward them. Reddinus shouted, “Final payout! Two-point-five, ninety-two-point-six, six-point-three!”
“Wow, that’s an enormous difference.”
“Then how much do I get? I put down thirty alpion. Is it more than double?”
Not one of the Brothers of the Hawk doubted Gene would win. No, even if someone did, he would not have said so. His victory was a foregone conclusion. All they cared about was the final payout. Ashamed of the men who had wagered nothing, they seemed less intent on winning money than on confirming their faith in Gene’s victory. At Harat’s innocent remark, Onil lifted his chin and scoffed.
“Only thirty alpion? You lack faith. I’ve wagered one Serapion.”
“Wow, since when did you have so much money? That’s everything I own.”
“Borrowed it, of course, fool. Where would I get money? The money’s coming the day after tomorrow.”
“So it doubles, then? You earn three Serapion?”
One of the Masons, now friendly enough with the Brothers to sit among them, explained.
“If you wagered one Serapion when it was two-point-five, you get one-point-five Serapion apart from your original stake. You’ll receive forty-five alpion.”
“What? Is that all?”
“Be grateful it didn’t fall into the ones. With the commission taken off, you’d lose money then.”
Neups broke in, scowling.
“What do you mean, grateful? Is it the captain’s victory that matters, or money? The payout’s falling because he’s that much more likely to win, isn’t it?”
The men murmured agreement. Then Hal, unable to stand it either, joined in.
“Hey, it makes no difference. That’s just how it looks to people. It has nothing to do with the actual outcome. What do the people queuing in the square to buy drinks and carry certificates know about the captain? Is the general going to win because they buy more certificates for him?”
“That’s true.”
As everyone agreed, Mikun muttered from a corner.
“Then how much does someone who bets on the general get if he wins?”
“That would only happen if he won, wouldn’t it? Fool, do you think it’s just money for the asking?”
The men around him jumped up and slapped his back, and the question was soon forgotten. Amid the noisy chatter, Luke sauntered in. Hal asked him, “Hey, poet! Have you wagered too?”
“Wager? How would I?”
“Haven’t you been to Sachet Square? Not interested in this sort of thing?”
Luke spread both hands, then patted his pockets.
“I’ve heard, but I must have money first.”
“Oh, you penniless wretch. What did you do with everything you earned before?”
“Poets are expensive creatures. If you want the finest cocktail in your work, you have to drink it first.”
“And if you want to write a beautiful woman into a story, you have to befriend one? Oh, what a splendid profession.”
Luke smiled and squeezed into a corner. Turning to Neups behind him, he asked, “How are the house repairs going? I passed by earlier, and they were busy stacking bricks.”
“They’ve only just started, and two craftsmen keep arguing about the second floor’s design. It’s getting on my nerves.”
As Neups scratched his head irritably, Hal teased him with mock surprise.
“You haven’t decided how it should look, but you’ve already begun the work? Builders, honestly.”
“Not all of them are like that, understand? My father, at least, never was. I’ve got to work out the first floor’s arrangement too, and thinking about it is giving me a headache. I don’t know whether the guild’s filled with idiots while I’ve been serving our captain, or whether all the competent craftsmen have retired.”
“They must fill the place you left. Haven’t you heard every family has its quota of fools?”
Terry joined in, chuckling.
“They needed three to make up for Neups.”
“Why, you sons of dogs, no, hawks!”
While the three men traded harmless blows, Luke quietly spoke up.
“About the first floor. Might I offer an opinion?”
“Very funny. What would a poet know about building?”
“Hey, I’ve had a hand in stage design, I’ll have you know.”
Perhaps he found it plausible, or simply could not be bothered to think. Neups turned toward him. While Luke talked and Neups listened with growing seriousness, discussion of the wager continued in the opposite corner. Onil and the others could be heard exchanging remarks.
“Until yesterday, some people were wondering whether betting on the general might win them a fortune. But today, the general’s payout fell sharply. So people said, ‘Oh, whatever. Let’s bet on the side that looks likely to win.’ Then it rose enormously again.”
“What have those fools got in their heads? If they’ve money to bet on the general, I’d buy a drink instead.”
“Those drinks they were selling there were good, though. Was it ginger?”
“Oh, did it have ginger? I liked it too. I think there was a little liquor in it, but I don’t know what it was.”
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