Secrets of Capell Manor

Prologue

Lord Edmond Capell squinted at the blurred markings on the cards; his meaty hand trembled as he held them.

He’d lost again. With a grunt of frustration, the old lord flung the cards across the table, scattering them like leaves in the wind.

Nervous beads of sweat glistened on his brow; his stomach twisted in a sickly churn.

“Pay up, Capell!” his associate slurred, the words tumbling out in a half-belch.

Capell looked down and realized that all his coins would be cleaned out with this loss. He sighed and reached for his mug of ale. But rather than retrieving it, he pushed it over clumsily, and the dark liquid spilled across the table and dripped to the floor.

“And don’t forget what you already owe me,” the younger man bellowed. “I want every last bit of it tonight!”

Sweat now dripped down his back and pooled under his arms. Through his alcohol-induced haze, he knew the man who sat across from him was dead serious. He feared he might not live much longer if he didn’t pay.

“Come on, man! You know I’ll make good on what I owe. I just need a little more time.”

His plea was met with a piercing glance and cold smirk as much as his drunken friend could muster.

Capell shook his head. “One more hand?”

“Why should I play another hand, old man? I’ve already won!”

Capell’s alcohol-soaked brain scrambled for a solution—something that would give him one last chance.

He tried to sit up a bit taller, but he only swayed over in his chair.

He grabbed the edge of the table and finally managed to say, “I’ll make the deal sweeter.

If I lose, I’ll give you what you’ve been hounding me for the last months. ”

The young man’s interest piqued, and he sat up straight. “And if I lose?”

“Then my debt to you is erased, and I’ll hear no more of it.”

There was only a brief pause, but then the young man looked Edmond dead in the eyes and said, “Deal the cards, old man.”