This is my first submission. Reader feedback is greatly appreciated.
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The stones arched through the air and bounced onto the table. They jumbled and rolled for several inches then came to a stop at the other end of the table. Though the room was packed, no one breathed. Suddenly, one whole side of the room burst into cheering and yelling. The room was obviously divided down the center, the line bisecting the length of the table. One side of the room was cheering and patting each other on the back. All except one. This man was standing, eyes locked on the man directly across from him. The other man's eyes never left the stones. The winner cautiously reached out and collected the scraps of paper that were IOUs representing everything the other man owned. He handed the papers to the man on his right and reached back to the table and picked up a key that, save the stones, was the only thing left on the table. He held up the key and turned it in front of his eyes.
His eyes locked on the loser across from him. "Where?" His voice boomed and the noise in the room dropped a few decibels. The other man answered without taking his eyes from the stones. "Door... around back... then down the stairs."
"Standar," he says to his right hand man. "Take those notes and first, take care of the widows and families, then distribute them to the men. I'll come find you in the morning."
"Yes, Brill. It will be my pleasure." And Standar turns to converse with a couple men.
Brill takes one last look at the stones, says a silent prayer of thanks to the gods, and begins to move towards the door. The going is slow as it seems all the men wanted to touch him and offer their congratulations. He finally makes it to the door and turns to walk around the big meeting hall. The few of his men still outside he directs to the Gathering now in full swing inside the hall.
He finds the door and unlocks it with the key. The hinges are old and he strains at the door before it finally moves. Grabbing a torch from beside the door, he enters and walks down the steps. The steps wind down in a gentle spiral for a couple hundred feet, then suddenly he is looking into a large room. It is not quite a dungeon, but it wouldn't take much to convert it.
A jingle of chains draws his attention to the darkened corner to his right. Brill walks over and places the torch in a holder. There, chained to the wall by ankles and wrists, is the woman he just won from Rolpe. He looks her up and down, from head to foot and back again. He sees past the dirt that covers her and the dress that hangs from her in tatters. He looks into her eyes and sees the beauty that lies deep within. A beauty that he now sees was worth the week-long bloody fights and the final winner-take-all game tonight. At stake were all his possessions for all Rolpe's possessions and his life for hers... sight unseen.
His hand reaches towards her face. Her eyes close and her body stiffens in expectation of the blow. The blow that they all use to show her who is in control, who has the authority. But it has never shown her that. She has instead shown them. She killed, in their sleep, three of her last five owners. And in such a way that she would never be suspect. What does that say about who is in control? But the blow never comes. Instead she feels a gentle touch to her face. Her eyes open as the back of the stranger's fingers slide down her cheek.
