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Old 04-25-2006, 03:35 AM   #270
Lalwendë
A Mere Boggart
 
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Join Date: Mar 2004
Location: under the bed
Posts: 4,814
Lalwendë is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Lalwendë is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
He’d done it, the lad had actually done it, and what’s more, he’d made it look real. Larswic shook his head and wondered if the lad really had managed to pull it off all on his own. He couldn’t be sure.

His heart was racing now, more so than when the race had been going on. He had shouted and hollered along with everyone else as the riders had neared the winning post, but it was an act at first. Yet as the race had finally drawn to an end, his shouting and excitement had been genuine. His face was red and his throat sore. The little slips of paper which his bets had been written on were now getting crumpled in his fist, and he looked down at them almost tenderly, and smoothed them out.

Larswic went quickly to the bookmakers to claim his gold. First was the man to whom he had placed a single large bet on Leof’s horse. This was the most important one, and the bookmaker gave him a broad smile as he handed over the money, though his face was white with shock. Larswic left him with a silver coin and an instruction to “get yourself drunk tonight with that”. Next he went to the bookmakers where he had placed money on his own horse coming second; the amounts here were large too, as the odds on this horse not winning were long. Finally, he went to claim the money from his first and second place wager.

As he moved quickly through the throngs around the various bookmakers, Larswic nodded his head at a few people who went by. However, these were more than passing acquaintances. One was none other than the son of the man he had sold the black stallion to, and by the way he held his cloak close to his chest, he was reaping a large reward of gold for his wager. He gave Larswic an almost imperceptible wink as he went by and Larswic quickly pressed something into his hand.

The others that Larswic passed were some of his closest contacts. Regular punters, trusted dealers and those men who he wished to keep in favour. A small number of Larswic’s customers got a lot more for their money when they bought a horse from him; they also bought his intelligence and insider knowledge, they bought future hopes and chances from the man. He knew that he would be treated to more than a few drinks over the coming days. He also knew that he had bought their discretion and moved confidently as ever through the crowds, heading for the winners’ enclosure.

When he got there, he played his role as a part owner of the second placed horse, commiserating that he had not won, but saying how he was content with his share of the second prize, all the time feeling the pull and heavy weight of the bag of gold he carried under his shirt.
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