I don't know why people complain about the smog. It means that people are working and changing. A clean city is a stagnant city. A stagnant city offers no opportunities. Why would anyone hate the smell of opportunity?

That is why I took deep breaths as I walked through the streets. My opportunity was waiting for me, just like it always was. I was going to a little gambling hall, just close enough to the slums to make the little lordlings feel like they were transgressing the rules of their station. It was a safe place, but it had the taste of danger. The chairs and tables were ever so artfully chipped and stained so that they look worn but felt comfortable. After all, a tender lord's bottom needs a soft chair. They cannot bear the feeling of poverty, no matter how much they like the look of it.

Which was a pity for them, since I had every intention of making them experience it. I'd play with cards, or dice, or whatever else pleased them. They would trust in their superior bloodline to secure victory, and I would trust in my skill. I would take their money, and they would be too embarrassed to complain about it. The system was very much to my liking. It was as though I had the power to levy a tax on stupidity.

I settled in at a table and began to play. Dice were the order of the evening, a charming game of bluffing and rolling dice. Men and women came and went as I took their gold, but one of them insisted on playing again and again. I beat him every time, and he begged for credit. I was happy to oblige him. Lords have deep pockets, and they have much to lose by defaulting on their debts. Besides, I knew a few men who with more muscles than money. If he did not pay with gold, he would pay with his knees.

The poor fellow thought that he could win, but he was badly mistaken. I do not lose at dice. We were the last people to play that night, and it was nearly morning by the time that he finally gave up. His debt was so large that I almost thought it was obscene. I could drown a mammoth if I melted down all of the gold that he owed me.

Which, of course, is why he did not want to pay. He praised my good fortune, and he asked me if I wanted to try my luck in a place with higher stakes. I nodded. He had my interest, at least. He offered to invite me to a private party that his father was holding in a few days. All he asked in return was that I forgive his debt. I accepted, and he gave me his name, Halzio. He asked for mine, and I told him that I was Nizream. We parted company, and I returned home to sleep the day away.

--------------

I took my time in preparing for the party. I had to dress to impress, or else they would never let me through the door. At the same time, they would be insulted if they thought that I was dressing above my station. Lords are needlessly picky creatures.

I chose a pair of tight pants made of black leather, in the hope that I might distract and impress my opponents. I combined that with a shirt of burgundy silk that was not quite thick enough to conceal my muscles. I put a little bit of padding underneath it so that it could have a few "muscles" to fail to conceal. I added a pair of black shoes with short heels and a red hat with preposterously large black feather to that, and I almost felt like I was ready to go out.

Almost, but not quite. There was one more thing to add, an accessory that I had obtained at great expense to wear on occasions such as this. I call it the coat-of-many-faces, and it is the pinnacle of fashion. The tailor took the faces of nearly fifty victims, tanned them thoroughly, and sewed them to make a fine coat. It was useless if I wanted to stay warm or protect myself from the elements, but it was unique. I chose it because uniquely useless things are always fashionable, and I dressed to impress.

The sun was setting as I arrived at the party. I stood outside of a garden's wrought iron gate, and a servant crept up to me. She was a small creature, quiet, as though she was accustomed to meek obedience. She tugged at my sleeve, and she asked how she should announce me.

"Nizream!" I declared, with somewhat more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary. It is always good to remind those who submit to lords that there is another way to live.

She stared at me for a brief moment, and then she asked the question that I dread more than any other. A difficult question, one that must be answered with great care.

"Your house, Sir?"

There are dogs that have better pedigrees than I do. The only house that I can claim is the house in which I live. A lie came to my lips. I spoke, and I hoped that nobody would call my bluff.

"I am a scion of the d'Valenzi line, an heir to an ancient legacy."

I said it with pride, in the hope that none would dare contradict it. Nevermind that the d'Valenzi did not exist. I had bluffed before. I could manage.

She nodded, curtsied, and opened the gate. She called out my name, and my alleged house. All eyes were upon me for a moment, and then most turned away. They thought that I was too lowly a lord to matter, but at least they seemed to think that I was a lord.

I looked around for a few moments to find the gaming table. I did not manage to find it, but I did run into Halzio. He smirked when he saw me, but he bowed in greeting and warmly took my hand.

"A scion of the d'Valenzi? Doubtless a lineage of cunning plotters that rule from the shadows, so secret that none of us have ever heard of them. It's an honor to meet one of such an august house."

A little teasing never hurt anyone, and it seemed that he did not care about my lie. I might have misjudged him. A lordly lad who does not care who my parents were could be a wonderful friend. I smiled at him, and I spoke with mock sorrow in my voice.

"Very august, and very secret. All of your guests would tremble and bow before me, if they had only heard of my kin. If only my family's reputation preceded me! Alas!"

"I have no doubt that you will teach them to fear your house when they join you at the gaming table. My father and his dear friends like to play late at night. Mingle. Make a few friends. We will get you when the time comes."

With that, he shook my hand once again and went off to flatter some dainty lady in an tight dress. I had hoped that he might stay with me for a while and make a few introduction, but even I am not that lucky. I decided to take his advice and wander through the crowds. A gambler must make his own luck, and there was a chance that I might find something of interest.

-------------------

I certainly found something of interest, but it was not what I expected. I was looking for an easy mark, someone who might play a few games and line my pockets before the main event. What I actually found was the most beautiful viscanti that I had ever seen. The preachers of Celest say that our kind are hideous, but they would turn to apostasy on the spot if they ever saw her. Her hair was long, and it was thick, the color of unspoiled snow. Her body displayed all the advantages that an athletic life can bring, and she stood with the quiet dignity of a person who knows that she can do great things.

My heart pounded in my chest. It told me to approach her, but my mind told me that the odds were stacked against it. I had spent many years listening to my mind and following the safe bets. It was how I made my fortune. If I approached her, I could get rejected. Men would mock me for daring to approach a lady who was so far above my own rank. I would be disgraced, exiled from this party, and I would lose my chance at profit. Good sense told me to forget about her. I listened to my heart instead.

I took a deep breath, and I walked right up to her. I spread my arms out as wide as I could, and I bowed like a lovestruck lordling. I tried to speak firmly, but I was too nervous to manage it. I sounded more like an asthmatic, stuttering child than anything else.

"Fairest lady, your noble countenance is blessed with the beauty of ten thousand goddesses. May I profess myself your most ardent admirer?"

She looked at me like I had suddenly turned into Gorgulu. She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.

"No."

"Might I ask the reason for your humbling rejection?"

She sighed. "What is my name?"

I thought for several seconds, and then I realized that I was an idiot. "I do not know."

She stared at me for a moment and rubbed her temples, as though this was not the first time that she had this conversation. "Do you think it is appropriate to burn with admiration for someone when you do not even know her name?"

It was at that moment that I realized I was both an idiot and a moron. I tried to salvage the situation. "You could tell me your name, and then it might become appropriate?"

"I do not love fools, sir. Perhaps you should try your luck with one of my brother's many admirers. They have lower standards."

I burned with shame. It was a strange feeling, to know that she was right and that I was a fool. Still, I could not bear to give up. "Would you believe that I am not a fool?"

"You would have to prove it."

That was my opportunity! Proof is easy. I only needed to find out how. The direct approach seemed to be best. "And how would you like me to prove it to you?"

She thought for a few moments. She pursed her lips, and turned her back on me to gaze out over the plants. Soot was settling on the rose bushes, just like a feeling of doom was settling on my heart. I feared that she would send me away. Just as I was preparing to leave her and go drown my shame in wine, she spoke to me.

"You're not really one of us, are you?"

"One of you?"

"Noble. Well-bred. You talk like somebody who thinks we speak like amateur actors in a cheap theatre."

There are times when a man must drop his bluff and lay his cards on the table. "You've got me there."

"Then I have a task. Find a lord, a real lord, and beat him at something. Anything. Take a trophy, so that you can prove that you're really better than he is. Do that, and I'll graciously assume that you only sounded like an idiot because you were trying to act noble. We'll start again without any of that ardent admiration, and we shall see if you are worth knowing."

I could do that. It wouldn't even be difficult. I already had a contest planned, after all. I sketched a much more reasonable bow and left her in peace. I had to calm my nerves before the big event, after all.

-------------------

I kept myself out of trouble until Halzio found me. He found me by the buffet, shoving disgustingly expensive morsels into my mouth. He was probably disgusted, but he didn't comment. He simply placed his arm around my shoulder and led me to a little table near the back of the garden.

I took the measure of my opponents before I sat down. There were three of them, and they were all enormously fat. Clearly, these were not men of action. Nor were they men of taste, judging by their outfits. They had enough lace to cover the Megalith a dozen times over, and they had more jewels on their fingers than a Hallifaxian has in his city. Rich, lazy, and, going by the looks on their faces, more than a little bit arrogant. Perfect marks.

The fattest one spoke as I sat down. "D'Valenzi?"

"Nizream d'Valenzi. Who shall I have the honor of bankrupting this evening?"

His eyes bugged out like I had put a knife in his kidneys. He gasped. The others stared. He spat on me as he spoke.

"Razion d'Folgari. Deal, and we shall see if you can bankrupt me."

We played a simple game. Each of us received five cards, exchanged as many as we pleased with the dealer, and compared the results. Simple. Trivial. Just a matter of knowing the odds and occasional bluffing. It was not the most exciting evening of my life.

Razion's companions were the first to concede. I did not press the issue. I might have goaded them into losing a little more money, but I had a more pressing goal. Razion's pride would probably keep in game long past the point where intelligent people would leave, so I chose him to provide my trophy for the evening.

We went back and forth for a few hours after the others had left. I won more than I lost, but it was closer than I'd care to admit. He played well. Still, he found himself short on gold as dawn began to rise over the horizon.

"Tell me," I said to him, with just a little hint of a smirk, "would you like to win it all back? One round of one game of my choosing."

"And what would you have me bet?"

I thought for a moment, but only a moment. I smiled. "Your hat, your ring, and your brooch will suffice."

He nodded, and he threw his hat down onto the table. It was an ugly thing, black velvet with an obscene number of plumes, but nobody would ever think that I got it from anyone but a lord. His golden ring and bejeweled brooch followed. All I had to do was pick the right game, and a trophy would be mine.

"This game is an easy one," I said, "and I think you will like it very much. We have four prizes here. We shall place four tokens into a hat, and each of us shall draw a single one. Each of us will take our prize, and the rest will return to their owners. I will allow you the honor of drawing first or second, as you prefer."

I pulled a set of tokens from my pocket. One was plated gold, and the other three were simple clay, each marked with a number.

"Gold for gold," I said, as I dropped the tokens into his hat. "Would you like to draw first?"

Of course he did. Any fool could pick the gold token out of the hat. He reached into the hat, pulled in out, and laughed when he saw that he had won. I reached in to pull out my token and discovered that I had won the hat. I had what I needed, and all it cost me was a pile of gold.

He seemed quite pleased with the exchange. He could not stop laughing. It was a hacking, wheezing laugh, but a laugh all the same. I took his hat and left him to it. I had a lady to find.

----------------

I found her as she was taking her leave of the garden. I could have spent a lifetime simply gazing at her and considered it a life well-lived, but I did not have time to stand and stare if I wanted to catch her. I stepped out in front of her and threw the hat into her hands. She caught it, and she gasped.

"This is my father's hat!"

"If you ask him, I think he'll say that it belongs to me!"

I laughed and I bowed before her. Victory is sweet, but nothing is sweeter than taking a chance to gloat. "Is that enough of a trophy for you, or shall I go thrash him again to get another?"

She laughed and threw the hat back at me. "It will do. You wanted to know my name?"

I was relieved to hear her accept it. "I want it more than I want life itself."

"Isrella d'Folgari. To whom do I owe this pleasure?"

"To Nizream d'Valenzi! I would like to know you better, Isrella."

She stared at me for a long moment and smiled softly. "I would like to know you better, Nizream, but I would also like to sleep. Give me your address, and I will send you a letter."

I did as she asked, of course. I'd have done anything that she asked. I wrote down my address, and we parted company. I rushed home, but I burned with far too much excitement to rest. A letter was coming! I only had to be patient.

--------------

The rising dawn heralded the start of a new day, and then another and another. I heard a knock on my door on that third day, and I jumped from my bed to open it. I did not even bother dressing myself.

Halzio was at the door, with a letter in one hand, a flask in the other, and raised eyebrow on his face. He took a swig from his flask and bowed before me.

"Nizream? May I come in? Thank you. I have a letter."

I had not, in fact, invited him into my home, but that letter was as good a passport as any in the world. It had been a very long time since I had let anybody into my home. I had to think for a minute to come up with the proper protocol.

"Tea, Halzio?"

"No, thank you. I brought my own."

I could smell the contents of his flask. It was not tea. Something brown, certainly, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it came from a barrel instead of a pot.

"Your own tea?"

"My own drink. I am not at a tea party, and so I need not tolerate tea. Try it."

He handed over the flask. I really had no interest in it, but I didn't want to offend him until after he gave me what I really wanted. I took a sip. It burned like a bad memory as it went into my mouth. I gestured towards the letter as I handed it back to him and tried to swallow.

"Yes," he laughed, "down to business! This letter is yours, but I think that we need to have a few words."

I started to object, but he held up his hand at me and kept talking. "Planning, my friend. I'm not here to object. Perhaps you should find some pants while I explain?"

It was a good suggestion. I went over to the pile of clothes that I kept next to my bed and started to sort through it. I listened to Halzio as I tried to find a relatively clean garment in the heap.

"You are trying to seduce my sister. You did this by pilfering my father's hat. She found you so terribly amusing that she sent me as her messenger, like some sort of servant. Do you know why she did that?"

I did not, but I couldn't help but think that it was for some terrible reason, if he was bringing it up. I asked the only question that came to mind.

"Why?"

"Because everybody knows that the august line of d'Valenzi is as real as Celestian morality. It's a lie, and not a good one. Our father would never approve of a covert love affair, let alone an actual match."

I finally managed to get my pants on. "Then why would she send a letter?"

"Because you interest her. And I'm stuck carrying it because she can't trust anyone else to keep it secret."

"You don't care about my house?"

That made him laugh. He even spilled some of his drink on my floor. "That's true, but it's not why she trusts me. You see, I care very much about my inheritance, and I was hoping that his heart might give out if the two of you elope. But that requires a romance. You see? It's in my best interest to make sure that the two of you fall in love."

That made me laugh. "So you'll help us?"

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and grinned a wild, slightly drunken grin. "Friend, I am at your disposal. If you need a letter carried, I will carry it. If you need a rival killed, I will duel him. If you need pretty words to make her love you, I'll bully a poet into writing them. Here is your letter, my friend. If you need me, you know where we can play at dice."

I could have ripped it out of his hands, but he simply laid it on the table and walked out the door. It was a little piece of paper, dyed a dark shade of purple and folded over upon itself. She had sealed it with a dollop of black wax stamped with with a picture of a coiling snake. My fingers were trembling with anticipation as I broke the seal and began to read.

---------------

To Lord d'Valenzi, if that is your real name,

You are an insidious charmer, a daredevil of the highest order, and terribly pretty. I have no doubt that there are dozens of fair maidens and base harlots that are eager to win your favor, but I hope that I can convince you to set them all aside to make room for me.

I will not make you any promises as to the results of a meeting, but if you were to take a walk among the tombs of my forefathers this evening, you would find me doing the same. We could do as we pleased together, and we could do it without fear of censure. After all, although many of the dead are quite inclined towards the telling of tales, these particular corpses are silent.

You must take care not be seen. There are people who would frown on any love that might blossom between us, and I suspect that they would try to crush that blossom as it grew. Some of them would even try to have you killed. I know that you are the sort of man who will gamble on long odds for the right prize, and I know that I am certainly worth dying for, but I'd rather you lived for me instead. Try not to get caught.

I have told my courier not to wait for a reply. If he lingers, just shove him out into the street. Your body is the only reply that I require. Come to me or stay at home, and I shall consider that your response to my missive.

With mild optimism,
Isrella d'Folgari

--------------------------

I obeyed her. How could I do anything else? I had plans for the day; I canceled them at once. I spent it preparing instead. I bathed three times, just to be sure that I was clean. I had my hair cut to match the latest fashion. I did not know if she would care, but at the very least I hoped she would appreciate the effort. There was no harm in trying.

That took most of the day. Night was falling by the time that I was ready, but that suited me perfectly well. I slipped out of my home and joined the throng in the street. I got close to her family's tombs, and I placed a veil of mourning upon my head in the hope that it would hide me from observation. Who gives a second thought to a mourner beside a tomb?

Isrella did, as it happened. She had gotten there before me. I did not see her as I slipped past the gate, but I have since learned that she had been lurking in a corner. She followed me, and she came up behind me as I settled down to wait beside a sarcophagus. She ripped the veil from my head and laugh.

"Come now, Nizream. If the thought of seeing me sent you into mourning, you could have stayed home!"

"I do not mourn for your presence," I said, "but because I was afraid you would not come!"

She laughed at me again. I will not say how we spent the rest of the evening, for some things should stay private, but I will say that she laughed a great deal more that night.  I mustered all of my charm, my good looks, and my wit to seduce her, and I think that I succeeded.

At the very least, I proved that I was better than my competition. She told me that her father had been working to arrange a marriage for her, so that he could seal some sort of deal with a business associate. The man was rather unpleasant, so naturally Isrella wanted to avoid him. Apparently she had been planning to have him killed, but I presented her with a much better alternative.

We plotted a plot to secure our marriage. Her father would never approve of it, but we agreed that his approval was not strictly necessary. After all, the city of smog has higher authorities than him. All that we needed was a way to get their attention and to force them to intervene. Fortunately for us, we had just the thing to do it. The plan was a little bit risky for me. Trusting Isrella to do her part was easy. If she betrayed me, I would die, but I would also wish to die, so that was no great concern. Her brother was another matter entirely. I liked the man, but how many men have stopped to admire the beauty of a snake before it bit them? There was no way to be sure.

It was still an easy choice. What good would it do me to pass up my chance at Isrella because I was not willing to risk my life? None at all. The choice was made, and Isrella was pleased with my decision. We parted that night with a kiss, and we began to work towards our marriage.

------------

It took a few days, but soon everything was ready. Guards were bribed, gangs were hired, and weapons were procured. It took almost every last coin that I had, but it was worth it. After all, I could always win more gold, but lovers are very hard to replace.

The bright midday sun shed its light upon the smog as I walked down the street. I had a sword at my hip, and I found myself constantly running my fingers over the hilt. It was blunt, of course. There was not going to be any killing today, as long as everything went well.

I pushed through a crowd and saw Halzio waiting for me. He was leaning on a lamp on the corner of the street. He was smoking a pipe, but he threw it onto the ground as soon as he saw me. He shouted, and all around us the people stopped to listen to the commotion.

"Nizream d'Valenzi! Stay where you are! I have business with you."

He stood up straight and swaggered over to me. He flipped his cape aside to reveal a sword, he tipped his hat at every lady that he passed, and be sketched a mocking bow at me. There was even a hunting horn strapped to his belt. He looked every bit like a pompous lordling. I would say that he played his part well, but to this day I'm not sure that he was playing a part at all. He called out to me as loudly as he could.

"I have heard rumors, my little friend, that you have been getting ideas above your station."

"And what rumors are those? The ones about how everyone thinks that I am prettier than you? Or have you been listening to liars again?"

"Rumors about my sister. I'm sure you've heard them."

This was my moment, the one where I had to make the gossips pay attention. Everyone had to hear me say it. I laughed as loudly as I could. I cackled like a fool. When everyone was watching, I looked my friend right in the eye and gave my response.

"Your sister is not above my station at all. In fact, I think she would agree that her station is below me!"

He roared and went for his sword. I drew mine as well, and I took a step back. I turned to the crowd and I shouted for my hirelings.

"Come, come! This man thinks a title and a fancy cape make him a leader! Come out and show him what real fighters can do!"

My men came running out of their hiding places. Some leaped out from the crowd, some burst out from buildings, and a few came running up from farther down the street. Halzio laughed at me then, and he put his hunting horn to his lips. A clear note rang out, and his own men came running from the other end of the street. Our gangs came to blows, and we crossed swords in the midst of it.

There was no bloodshed. Not one man among us had a sharp weapon, but the crowds did not know that. A few screamed. More cheered. Most were content to watch us in silence as we played at fighting. We did not do it for long. The sound of feminine sobs soon reached our ears, and the sound of marching guards soon followed.

The sounds were coming from Isrella and our bribed guards. I could hear her weeping and wailing as she told the guards that her brother and her lover were fighting over her, and that she was terrified that we might kill each other. They broke up our fight at once. We did not resist. The guards decided that our fight was a serious matter, largely because we had paid them to do so. Such a matter clearly warranted the warlord's personal attention, and so they took us to meet him.

--------------

The warlord was not pleased to see us. I had never met the man before, but he had a reputation for harsh suppression of public disturbances. I hoped that it was true, and that Halzio could play his part well.

He interrogated each of us alone, but that did not matter. We had all planned our stories in advance. I told the truth, that I had no grudge against him or any other person, but that I did love Isrella as deeply as anyone can love another. Halzio and Isrella both maintained that the whole problem was their father's doing, and that had ordered Halzio to kill me because I was Isrella's lover. The guards merely testified that neither of us seemed to be putting our hearts into the fight.

The warlord sent for their father immediately. I am told that he professed complete ignorance of the whole affair. In fairness, that would mean that he told the truth, but the warlord did not believe him. He put the pair of us in a room together, and made his intentions clear.

"Gentlemen, you are going to end this fight, or I will end it for you. I will leave this room for five minutes. When I return, you will tell me what settlement you have reached. If you have the nerve to tell me that you haven't reached one, I cut off your heads. I will see your shortly."

On that note, he left me alone with my lover's father. The man hated me, and thought that I should have nothing to do with her. I'm sure that many men had been in this situation before me, but it was still a terribly unpleasant experience for me. There were a few seconds of silence before he turned to me.

"Could I convince you to kill yourself, d'Valenzi?"

"I'm afraid not. Could I convince you to let me marry your daughter?"

"You'd have a better chance of marrying Nifilhema. What will it cost me to get you to leave us alone?"

"I'm not interested in your money.

"You're a gambler, aren't you? Your kind is always interested in money."

That was the most marvelous opening that I could have hoped for. I had expected to talk him around to the topic of gambling, but he handed it to me on a silver platter!

"I'm a gambler. I'm interested in excitement, especially of the sort that your daughter can provide. I'll make a deal. We settle this with a game of dice for her. If I win, we marry. If I lose, I part company with her forever."

"I think," he said, as he thought it over, "that you are risking less than me."

I looked at him with a mournful expression on my face. "I am certain that our parting would fill me with such sorrow that I would drink hemlock within an hour of it."

That pleased him. We had a bargain. The warlord gladly accepted our proposal, and arranged for us to play in the evening, in the company of whatever witnesses we cared to invite.

----------

The rules were simple. Each of us had a cup of six-sided dice. We would roll those dice and conceal the result from our opponent. Then, we would take it in turns to guess the number of dice with a certain face on the table. Each guess had to involve either more dice or a higher face than the last. When we believed that our opponent had guessed more of a face than was present, we would say so and check. If the guess exceeded the number rolled, that one who challenged it would win. If not, the one who made it would win.

A hard game to cheat in, but one that still involved a great deal of skill. We were not allowed to speak to each other outside of making our guesses, in the hope of avoiding conflict, so I rolled my dice in silence. One of each number. There are no worse results.

This left me with a choice. I could play it safe and allow my opponent to direct the bidding, in the hope of getting more information about what he had rolled. On the other hand, I could feign confidence and open with a bluff. That would give me the initiative, and an opportunity to force him into making an unlikely guess.

Safety, or danger? Danger. I was playing for the highest of all possible stakes, so I could not give my foe a chance to guess at my poor position. I bid three fives, because it was a plausible roll for a single person, but left very few ways to safely increase the bid.

He answered with a bid of four fives. That meant that he probably had a few of his own, or else that he had no sixes. I raised the bid to six fives immediately, in case he took hesitation of a sign that I was contemplating a lie. I smiled, as though I was daring him to challenge my guess.

He backed down, as I hoped that he would. Magnagoran lords do not live long if they lack caution. He slowly placed a bid of seven fives. That was a reasonable bid if he thought that I had actually rolled a large number of them, and he had one or two to add to the count. But I knew that we could only have that many if all of his dice had been fives.

Possible, but unlikely. I could have increased my bid to be sure that it was impossible, but he likely would have contested my claim. I didn't dare give him that chance. I smiled, and hoped that I was not making a mistake as I spoke.

"You are a liar, my friend. There are not so many fives on the table."

I cast aside my cup, and he saw what I had rolled. He turned pale, and then he turned red, and he shook with rage. He gripped his cup so tightly that it cracked in his hand, and he threw it away before storming out of the room.

I had won my bride, and I saw no reason to wait on the ceremony. Halzio had the foresight to bring a priest to the competition, and thus Isrella married me at the very site of my victory.