Jagger sat hunched by the fire.
The stump where his left hand had been ached. He could still feel his hand out there, somewhere. His thoughts returned to ‘Odsi, his heart ached at the thought of what her life could have been; and of all he had lost.
Hal, smiled as he pulled an old deck of cards from his pocket. “Fancy a little game?” His emerald green eyes shone nearly as bright as the fire.
“Not in the mood, ‘al. Not tonight,” Jagger said, nursing what was left of his arm as he looked up from the flames.
“Oh, come on!” Hal whined as he dealt out the cards. “Ten sterling to the winner. Anyway, I’m pretty sure you can still beat me one handed.”
Jagger glared up at Hal from the fire, then they both laughed.
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