Number cards are no account, but Cavendish had gazed enough at the court cards to invest each of the twelve with a special character. He pondered why the spade and heart Jacks in profile and looking one over the right, the other over the left shoulder, seemed so bitter- the Jack of Hearts holding the wilted leaf still wincing, and the Jack of Spades gripping the infinity scepter defiantly resigned. Why was the spade Queen the only one looking left, and the only one armed? The long-faced Queen of Hearts with turned down mouth seemed to Cav somewhat Yankee in aspect and expression. Why, he wondered, was any king committing suicide as the King of Hearts seemed to be? Why was one king in profile, the King of Diamonds, and none of the queens?
The four families had dominated the steppe for years, Cav remembered, their low, sprawling ranch houses under towering ombu trees only a dozen or so miles apart. One family, the Spayeds, had come from England; the Hards were Scottish; the Cloughs and the Dimins, local stock, had lived there forever. In each there was an eldest son, a daughter a few years younger, and another boy: what are the odds of that?
The children were the royalty of the prairie, riding on their grand horses the circuit between each others houses into a rut, besides ranging far and wide over the grasslands, up the rivers to the mountains, down the rivers to the sea. The farm workers looked up from their herding or shearing to see them, sometimes three or four, sometimes all twelve, flying away at a gallop morning or evening over the crest of a rise. House parties, picnics, fishing and hunting expeditions: they were never at a loss.
It was expected that, just at the peak of their glowing youth, the first born of one, the heir, would marry the second born of another, and so interlocking dynasties would be created. Second sons would live in a state of perpetual congratulation.
All the court cards, Cav pointed out, are symmetrically reproduced upside down. So the fortunes of the pampa grandees. The Spayeds fell out with the Dimins when the 'king' caught the 'queen' by the riverside alone and had his way with her. The first son of the Cloughs gunned him down from behind a tree, a point of honor, then ran away to the the city to join the army, only to die in a duel. His brother, the so called Jack of Cloughs, fell in love with the Spayeds daughter, Maria, hereafter known as Black, and was ambushed and castrated by the eldest Hard boy, boon companion of the murdered rapist.
Boiling up in the capital, a rebellion against the dictator led to a pitched battle from which fleeing soldiers streamed over the grasslands. The second Hard boy joined a band of marauders leading them to the house where the second Dimins son was hidden. He looked away as the soldiers, adept at the deed, slit his white throat. The Dimins daughter, almost near term, screamed herself into miscarriage, and bled to death.
Did you know, asked Cav, the court cards were originally supposed to represent famous kings, Charlemagne, Caesar, David, Alexander, of imperishable memory. The Hard line came to an end as, his sister fleeing famine for the city, the eldest ate a pistol barrel rather than the nothing that remained in the desolate countryside. Who in which battlefield where the second son found his grave?
Who knows what happened to any of the others? The great houses, once bustling and adorned with trophies and striking objects, are unroofed now. Thistle bushes as tall as trees grow where girls and their beaus struck poses and provoked each other.
Not all the houses.
You're right, my dear. I never once thought this lonely bunkhouse for raw cow wranglers would become a place as cozy a place as it is for the two of us this cold winter night. Have you ever noticed that cards...?
Enough of all this talk; just deal.
Right away, Miss Mary, right away.
The four families had dominated the steppe for years, Cav remembered, their low, sprawling ranch houses under towering ombu trees only a dozen or so miles apart. One family, the Spayeds, had come from England; the Hards were Scottish; the Cloughs and the Dimins, local stock, had lived there forever. In each there was an eldest son, a daughter a few years younger, and another boy: what are the odds of that?
The children were the royalty of the prairie, riding on their grand horses the circuit between each others houses into a rut, besides ranging far and wide over the grasslands, up the rivers to the mountains, down the rivers to the sea. The farm workers looked up from their herding or shearing to see them, sometimes three or four, sometimes all twelve, flying away at a gallop morning or evening over the crest of a rise. House parties, picnics, fishing and hunting expeditions: they were never at a loss.
It was expected that, just at the peak of their glowing youth, the first born of one, the heir, would marry the second born of another, and so interlocking dynasties would be created. Second sons would live in a state of perpetual congratulation.
All the court cards, Cav pointed out, are symmetrically reproduced upside down. So the fortunes of the pampa grandees. The Spayeds fell out with the Dimins when the 'king' caught the 'queen' by the riverside alone and had his way with her. The first son of the Cloughs gunned him down from behind a tree, a point of honor, then ran away to the the city to join the army, only to die in a duel. His brother, the so called Jack of Cloughs, fell in love with the Spayeds daughter, Maria, hereafter known as Black, and was ambushed and castrated by the eldest Hard boy, boon companion of the murdered rapist.
Boiling up in the capital, a rebellion against the dictator led to a pitched battle from which fleeing soldiers streamed over the grasslands. The second Hard boy joined a band of marauders leading them to the house where the second Dimins son was hidden. He looked away as the soldiers, adept at the deed, slit his white throat. The Dimins daughter, almost near term, screamed herself into miscarriage, and bled to death.
Did you know, asked Cav, the court cards were originally supposed to represent famous kings, Charlemagne, Caesar, David, Alexander, of imperishable memory. The Hard line came to an end as, his sister fleeing famine for the city, the eldest ate a pistol barrel rather than the nothing that remained in the desolate countryside. Who in which battlefield where the second son found his grave?
Who knows what happened to any of the others? The great houses, once bustling and adorned with trophies and striking objects, are unroofed now. Thistle bushes as tall as trees grow where girls and their beaus struck poses and provoked each other.
Not all the houses.
You're right, my dear. I never once thought this lonely bunkhouse for raw cow wranglers would become a place as cozy a place as it is for the two of us this cold winter night. Have you ever noticed that cards...?
Enough of all this talk; just deal.
Right away, Miss Mary, right away.
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