1 State of Grace

by John Phythyon

  The object of Conquest was simple. Each player had seven territories to defend. Each tried to occupy the other’s territories. When one player had conquered all seven of his opponent’s, the game was over.

  However, the game was much more complex and subtle than the object. Each player had a unique deck of cards from which he deployed soldiers, monsters, and magic. Each deck was themed to a specific race of people. The green deck featured elves, the brown deck dwarfs, and the grey deck, humans. A fourth deck, black, was composed of various monsters, mostly the undead. In the last game, Silverleaf played green; Sir Leslie, grey. It was an obvious matchup. The green deck featured lots of magical creatures, spells, and elves. It could attack quickly, and it was easier to get its units into play. The grey deck was the best counter to it. There were far fewer magical creatures, but this was balanced with more war machines and a good number of spells.

  “How much would you like to begin, Mr. Dasher?” the croupier asked.

  “Will ten thousand be all right?” Wolf inquired.

  “That will be fine, Mr. Dasher.”

  The croupier counted out chips in denominations of one, five, ten, one hundred, and five hundred pieces of gold. After he was satisfied he had the ten thousand in front of him, he passed them over on a paddle.

  “Thank you,” Wolf said. “What is your name?”

  “You may call me William, sir,” the croupier said.

  “Thank you, William,” Wolf said.

  He took half the chips he was given and placed them in the “pot” – the common area where all bets between the players and in-game fees were placed. Silverleaf matched him. Having both anteed, Wolf and the Alfari ambassador could now begin their contest.

  “Shall we bid for deck selection, gentlemen?” William said.

  The first step to playing the game was for each player to choose a deck. Often, this was determined by some random method, such as a throw of the dice. But in gambling halls and high-end clubs like the Dubonney, players were required to bid for the right to choose first. Each placed money in the pot until one of them refused to go higher. The winner chose a deck, and the loser selected from the three remaining. Wolf decided to gamble right away.

  “Nonsense,” he said, putting a smile in his voice. “Ambassador Silverleaf is a guest in our country. He should have first choice.”

  A murmur went through the crowd. Wolf was playing stupidly. He was allowing the elf who never lost to take the stronger position without a fight. A few observers openly wondered if Wolf had any chance to win at all. Silverleaf smiled thinly at him.

  “Are you sure, Mr. Dasher?” he said in his sonorous baritone voice.

  “Of course!” Wolf replied. “I am, if nothing else, a gentleman.”

  It was all Wolf could do not to laugh at himself. He was a lot of things, but gentleman wasn’t one of them. Moreover, he was deliberately appearing to look stupid. He wanted to draw the ambassador in, make him think this would be an easy contest. Any game of chance was partially determined by psychology. The man who could use his will to outduel his opponent often won. Moreover, Wolf was looking to save himself some money. He had no doubt the elf would outbid him. This way, it wouldn’t cost him anything.

  “Very well,” Silverleaf said. “I choose green.”

  Wolf wasn’t surprised by the decision, but it told him what he needed to know about Silverleaf. The ambassador always played the same color. He had a strategy built around it. He knew what his opponents would do, and he knew how to counter. If things got difficult, he cheated. Otherwise, he played from a script. Wolf had no doubt Silverleaf would make sure to deal himself a certain combination of cards.

  That made him a dangerous opponent. Silverleaf made sure there were as few variables as possible. But Wolf knew from his combat training that the secret to success was to force your opponent to fight your fight, not his. Wolf was going to have to change the usual conditions of the game if he was going to beat the Alfari ambassador.

  “Your decision, Mr. Dasher?” William asked.

  “Black,” Wolf pronounced.

  There was another, louder murmur from the crowd. Wolf was pleased to see a brief look of shock – quickly concealed – on Silverleaf’s face.

  “Are you sure you’ve played this game before?” the elf asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Wolf said, trying to sound naïve. “Why?”

  “Because black is the worst color you could choose to play against me, Mr. Dasher,” he answered. “You don’t have nearly as many soldiers, my creatures are superior to yours, and many of my spells render your deck’s dark magic inert. I feel obligated by your kindness in letting me choose first to offer you the opportunity to make another selection. Grey is the preferred deck to repel green, but if you won’t choose it, at least choose brown, so that you have a chance.”

  Wolf smiled. Silverleaf was used to his opponents doing the expected thing. Take the best position left. If, under some rare circumstance, Silverleaf lost the bet, and his opponent chose green, he could easily choose grey for himself, knowing how to counter his own color. Perhaps occasionally someone would choose brown to try to throw him off. He doubtless had a plan for that. But no one ever chose black. It just didn’t make sense. Silverleaf was unaccustomed to this matchup.

  “Thank you for your kindness, Ambassador,” Wolf said. “I understand well why you were chosen for your post. You have everyone’s best interests in mind.

  “However, I think I will stay with my choice. I’ve always wondered just how effective black could be against green. You’ve afforded me the opportunity to find out.”

  Silverleaf stared at him. His brown eyes searched Wolf, looking for some hint of malice or deeper meaning. Wolf smiled affably.

  “Very well, Mr. Dasher,” the elf said after a moment. “I shall indulge your experiment. But I think you will find this lesson to be very expensive.”

  “You never know, Ambassador,” Wolf said. “You may be surprised.”

  The two set to choosing their initial positions. First, they arranged their territories. Wolf’s black deck contained a limited selection of topography. He had two mountain territories and five marshes. Silverleaf had more options – four forests, two meadows, and a sea. Wolf gathered up his cards, pretending to think about what to do, while he waited to see how Silverleaf would arrange his board. The rules required at least two of the players’ territories to be adjacent.

  Silverleaf wasted no time in laying out his domain. He placed two forests at the forefront along with the sea. The two meadows he placed behind the forests and then set the remaining forests behind the meadows, effectively creating a clearing. Wolf recalled seeing the ambassador’s territories identically arranged in his game with Sir Leslie. This must be how he liked to play.

  Once again, Wolf felt he needed to throw Silverleaf off his game. He wanted to give him something he wasn’t used to seeing. Most black players set the mountains at the back of their domain and surrounded it with marshes to make it difficult to penetrate. The marshes were hard to move through and fight in, and the idea was to wear down one’s opponent before he or she could assault your central stronghold in the mountains. Wolf decided to be unconventional.

  He placed his two mountains out front. One he set adjacent to Silverleaf’s sea. He set the other adjacent to his already placed mountain and across from one of the forests. He then placed the marshes in a line behind the mountains.

  Another murmur ripped through the crowd. No one could understand what Wolf was doing. This time, Silverleaf didn’t comment. He just smiled smugly.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, lad?” the shabby noble who had offered to sponsor Wolf asked. “If he gets past your mountains, there’ll be nothing to stop him.”

  “Well I’ve always wondered if you could play black sort of in the reverse,” Wolf said.

  The shabby noble winced. He could no doubt feel the gold leaving Wolf’s bank account.

  The last step in setting up the game
was stationing their initial troops. To do so, both players went through their decks and selected seven cards depicting soldiers or monsters and set them out in their territories. One of the things that made Conquest such an expensive game was the fact that the players had to pay in gold the cost of bringing cards into play. The price of the card varied based on how powerful it was. These initial seven cards could be placed for free, but the rules forbid them from having a play cost of more than five gold. You couldn’t just bring your most powerful monsters into play at the outset.

  Wolf played Conquest semi-regularly – usually with other Shadows back at headquarters waiting for an assignment – but he was less familiar with the black deck than the others. He took his time thumbing through his cards, looking at his options. He immediately selected a cave wight for its ability to be more powerful as long as it occupied a mountain territory. He pulled out three goblins – not terribly strong monsters, but he needed some cannon fodder, and the cave wight could command them, making them more effective. On a whim, he selected a ghost; he liked the idea of a haunted cave. Likewise, he was amused enough by the idea of vampire bats in a dark cavern to choose that card.

  With one unit left to go, he flipped through the cards trying to find something he thought might be useful but which fit the price limitation. He came across a monster he hadn’t recalled seeing before – a fungal infestation. Reading the card’s abilities, he got an idea.

  With his seven starting units finally sorted out, he looked up. Silverleaf had already placed his. He had a siren stationed in his sea, two pixies and two elves in the forest adjacent to Wolf’s mountain, another elf in the forest next to it, and a dryad in one of the two forests at the back of his domain. His meadows and the other forest were undefended. It was sound strategy. He had a nice line of defense across the frontier, and he could quickly get units from front to back, since meadows were the fastest terrain to travel across.

  Wolf couldn’t help but smile. He could see what Silverleaf was trying to do. He placed a siren in the sea to lure Wolf’s units in the adjacent mountain down to their doom. From the forests, he planned an assault on Wolf’s other mountain. He no doubt planned to use the pixies’ glamour power to charm Wolf’s units. Wolf had other ideas.

  He placed the fungal infestation in the mountain adjacent to the sea. The rest of his soldiers he stationed in the other mountain. Silverleaf immediately protested.

  “You can’t do that,” he said. His tone implied his word was final.

  “Why not?” Wolf said.

  “You can’t place that many units in a single territory,” Silverleaf pronounced.

  “Sure you can,” Wolf said. “There are no limits to how many units you can get into a single territory as the game progresses. Why can’t you start that way?”

  “Because it isn’t allowed.” Silverleaf stared coldly at Wolf. He would accept no solution but his own.

  “William,” Wolf said, turning to the croupier, “is it illegal to begin the game with six of your units in a single territory?”

  William looked like he’d been asked to do magic when he knew nothing about it. He gulped.

  “I’ll have to consult the rules,” he said, his voice shaking a little.

  Wolf felt a bit sorry for him. He’d been put in an impossible position. He would either have to rule against the Alfari ambassador – an elf Wolf suspected would not take kindly to such things – or he would have to make this human noble look foolish – something any wise servant at a club would never do.

  Wolf tossed back the rest of his wine, while William flipped through the rules. He smiled affably as if this delay was no intrusion on the game.

  “You there,” he said, signaling to the blonde server who confirmed his credit. “What’s your name?”

  “Isabelle,” she replied, flushing.

  “Isabelle, I’d like another cup of this extraordinary cabernet and a glass of whatever Ambassador Silverleaf would like.”

  “I don’t drink while I play Conquest,” he said immediately, throwing Wolf a withering look as he did so.

  “Why on Earth not?” Wolf asked.

  “It clouds the mind,” Silverleaf replied.

  “Really?” Wolf sounded as though he had never heard of such a thing. “I’ve found quite the opposite. A drink relaxes the mind, allows it to see more possibilities.”

  “There is no limitation on the number of units that may start the game in a single territory,” William said. Wolf thought he could hear him wince. Silverleaf scowled in disgust.

  “Can I bring you anything at all, Ambassador?” Isabelle said.

  “No!” he snapped. “Bring the fool his wine so we can begin the game.”

  Wolf was secretly pleased, though he did his best not to show it. He already had Silverleaf off his game. If he kept playing the annoyingly happy fool, he might just be able to cloud the elf’s thinking during the game. No matter how well Wolf had managed to set up the board, he still had to deal with Silverleaf’s ability to cheat. Any advantage he could gain was critical.

  Over Silverleaf’s shoulder, he saw Simone smiling at him. Clearly, she was enjoying Silverleaf’s struggles as well.

  “May we start, please,” Silverleaf said. It was a statement, not a question.

  “The shuffle, Ambassador?” William prodded.

  Silverleaf nearly spat his disgust at forgetting part of the pregame ritual. He was desperate to start giving Wolf the beating he felt he deserved. He tossed his cards to Wolf and then held out his hand.

  The rules called for each player to shuffle the other’s deck and then offer him a cut. This way, a player couldn’t stack his own deck.

  Wolf handed over his cards. He never took his eyes off them as Silverleaf shuffled. He detected no magic – the elf wasn’t going to mess with Wolf’s deck, only his own – but he wasn’t nearly as concerned about that. Wolf was watching for another reason. He shuffled Silverleaf’s cards absently as he watched.

  Wolf once heard from a professional gambler that a deck of cards must be shuffled a minimum of seven times to achieve a truly random assortment. He suspected Silverleaf knew this little tidbit too, because the ambassador shuffled sixteen times before offering Wolf a cut. Wolf rapped his knuckles on the top of the deck, indicating he didn’t want one.

  “You’re ‘knocking’?” Silverleaf said.

  “Sure,” Wolf replied. “I trust you. Besides, you shuffled them enough times.”

  Another groan went through the crowd. They thought Wolf had taken all leave of his senses. Silverleaf handed over Wolf’s cards suspiciously. Then he cut his own deck twice. Wolf smiled.

  Presently, Isabelle returned with his wine. She leaned over him to place it to his right, making sure to give him a good view of her breasts and a whiff of her perfume. Wolf did his best to conceal his amusement. This girl was trying very hard. Perhaps she hoped to improve her social position by becoming his mistress. Too bad she was trying to seduce the wrong Dasher.

  “Thank you,” he said, tossing a five-gold chip onto her tray as a gratuity. “Don’t go far.”

  “Gentlemen, shall we bid for first move?” William said.

  “No,” Silverleaf pronounced. “Mr. Dasher was kind enough to offer me first choice. I feel obligated to repay the debt. He may have the first move.”

  A ripple of surprise went through the crowd. Wolf surmised no one had ever seen the ambassador offer any sort of quarter before. Wolf counted it as a victory. Silverleaf was pretending to be kind, but he was employing the same tactic Wolf had when he gave the elf first choice of deck. He wanted to see what Wolf would do. He wanted some hint of his strategy.

  It made sense. Wolf had made a number of irregular choices already. Furthermore, he had set the board up so that Silverleaf could only attack his domain from one territory. While the siren in the sea could lure creatures down to their doom, the only one of Wolf’s units she could affect was the fungal infestation – which couldn’t move. The rest of them weren’t adjacent
to her and therefore were outside her range. Thus, Wolf had already rendered that card inert. The only other way into Wolf’s domain was through the heavily defended mountain. Moving into a mountain territory required a movement rating of three. All of Silverleaf’s frontline troops had movements of one. Thus, unless Wolf came down to fight him, it would take Silverleaf three turns before he could attack.

  The situation was not impossible for the elf. He had his ability to magically cheat, and Wolf assumed he would at the first opportunity. But Silverleaf wanted to know his opponent’s strategy. Unless he had an idea of Wolf’s intentions, he wouldn’t know which cards to draw from his deck. For the moment, Wolf had stonewalled him; it bought him some time.

  With the game at last set up, the two players dealt themselves seven cards from their own decks. Wolf scanned his own deal briefly. He had two zombies, a plague, a “staff of darkness,” a “pall of darkness” spell, a “blood ritual” spell, and an “insidious design.”

  After he noted his cards, Wolf put his hand on his deck. He felt bad about what he was about to do, but since he was playing a cheater, cheating was a reasonable response. His Shadow powers gave him the ability to read the history of any object and see what had been done to it or with it and by whom. It was for this reason he had watched Silverleaf shuffle the cards closely and for this reason he didn’t cut the deck.

  Closing his eyes, Wolf put himself back in the moment when the last shuffle occurred. He slowed the vision down. He watched each card flip through the deck and memorized its position. Unlike Silverleaf, he could not magically draw the card he needed or wanted, but, by using his postcognitive powers, he could know the exact position of every card in his deck.

  “Mr. Dasher!”

  Wolf opened his eyes with a start and saw Silverleaf glaring at him.

  “Can we please begin the game?” the ambassador demanded.

  “Sorry,” Wolf said. “Just saying a quick prayer to the gambling gods for good fortune.”

  “There was nothing quick about it,” Silverleaf spat. “Please draw a card so we can begin.”