War Aeternus 2: Sacrifices

by Charles Dean

  “So, this whole place, this park . . .” Lee trailed off as the realization dawned on him.

  “Yes, it’s just my yard,” Alexander answered with a laugh. “And this is the most beautiful house in the entire city. The real estate is worth more than the building. “It always drove my accountant mad that I would waste this much space, but I think that it is sometimes important for men like us to have a place to go to when we want to get away from things--and, then, the more distance between us and the outside world, the better.”

  “Spoken like a true introvert. By the way, I hate to ask this so far after the fact, but where did you train? You seemed very steady with that blade,” Lee commented.

  “Oh, that? I trained in a few things, but mostly I like to pass the time sword fighting with friends. Kendo, European longsword--it beats golf.

  “There you two are,” Masha called from the kitchen door. “I’ve set the table, and mother said the meal will be ready soon. We’ll be having beef stroganoff, and I’ve already opened us up a bottle of wine to go with it.”

  “Sounds great,” Lee called back, and the two made their way inside.

  The family was rather pleasant, and her mother seemed particularly happy to hear about what Lee did for a living, which was nice. The way she nitpicked him with questions about his life, he half-expected her to have been a professional inquisitor or interrogation specialist, but it turned out she only managed a shop in town where she sold arrangements made from the flowers that she grew in her backyard.

  Afterwards, he had to endure the occasional ‘Why can’t you find a good Russian boy?’ comments Masha’s mom made to her, but as awkward as the comments were, Lee almost burst out laughing when he saw Alexander’s eyebrows start twitching when he overheard his wife whispering these things to Masha in the kitchen, unaware of the fact that Lee could both hear her and speak Russian.

  “She means well,” Alexander said as he stood up, “but maybe we should retire to the study in order to save some of my dignity as a host in case she decides to say something worse. I’d like to play a game of chess with you while we wait for Masha to clean up if you don’t mind.”

  “We could help them out if you like. Many hands make light work, and it’d be done much quicker if we joined them,” Lee offered.

  Alexander looked between the kitchen and his study and said, “Well, there are only two sinks in the kitchen, and I had kids so that I wouldn't have to do chores. I don’t know why my wife even insists on helping out. What’s the point of raising a kid if you can’t get some manual labor out of her every now and then?”

  “Alright then, chess you said?” Lee might have agreed too quickly, but the alternative was that he argue his way into doing dishes, a thing he hated to do even in his own apartment

  “Yes, of course.” Alexander patted Lee on the back as the two headed into his study, where they started up a game. Lee didn’t say anything when the man took the white side, the advantageous side, and he slowly began to roll out all of his pieces. One by one, he was able to slowly build a wall of pawns to block and contain the white pieces, making it so that, if any of his pawns were taken, the piece who took it would quickly be felled by a pawn, bishop or knight supporting it. It wasn’t a fancy strategy--Lee wasn’t that great at chess--but this particular plan made sense to him. He didn’t want to be aggressive and making moves across the board until he had a better feel for the game.

  It was somewhere near the end of this wall creation that Alexander let out a little bit of what felt like a sinister movie villain laugh and then looked up at Lee. “You are scared to lose them, aren’t you?” Alexander picked up one of his pawns and held it in the air for a moment. “You think that this threat means much because if I take one of them, you will avenge him right away. This is the threat you use to protect your minions.” Alexander hovered the pawn in the air for a moment and then placed it in a spot where it could easily be taken by one of Lee’s own.

  Lee was even tempted to do it, but if he did, his wall would be broken. The second his pawn took that one, one of his other pawns would no longer be reinforced. Not to mention, the pawn that acted offensively would be taken quickly just the same. It left Lee in a bit of a predicament. In the end, Lee moved to reinforce his own threatened minion with a knight instead of grabbing the pawn.

  This drew another soft cackle from Alexander. “I want to point out that this is where you lost the game.” Alexander picked up a pawn and made a move, taking Lee’s own. “Your hesitation to make sacrifices, to give up even an inch of ground, has ensured your defeat.”

  Lee didn’t understand at first what he meant, but it was clear a moment later. Alexander took the pawn, and then a series of rapid exchanges occurred until Lee’s wall was open, his king was exposed, and Alexander’s bishop had placed Lee in check. Lee stared at the board with absolutely no idea how to salvage the game. If he moved his king out of check, Alexander’s knight could easily take another one of Lee’s few remaining pawns and place him back in check. On the other hand, if he moved his rook to block it, he’d find himself quickly back in check and minus a rook. Alexander was right: the game was over. He had lost.

  “Do you understand your loss?” Alexander asked, his voice not at all conceited.

  Lee nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  “That’s good. This game has told me the last bits of information about you that I needed to know. Take it as a compliment that you were defeated for the reason you were. It only means that you’re not suited to lead, not that you’re a bad person.” Alexander smiled warmly as he reached under the table to produce a bottle of vodka with two glasses.

  “I thought we were going to have tea?” Lee asked.

  Alexander poured both cups as if Lee’s answer was a foregone conclusion. “This is my tea, and you will drink with me.”

  “So, I’m not suited to lead,” Lee repeated as he took the old-fashioned tumbler. “I suppose you’re right.” He tapped his glass against Alexander’s before taking a good swig of the vodka. Maybe it was due to his skill Drunken Appreciation, but it didn’t burn at all going down. It just tasted sweet and felt warm in his belly.

  “Not yet at least. Most men aren’t when they are your age, though, so don’t take it as an insult. It’s a compliment in its own right. Where I come from, they say that no good man makes a good leader. It’s not hard to see why. In order to be a good leader, you must be hungry and have that ambition for the influence you lack. A good leader sees the organization he runs, the people he is in charge of, not as people, but as pieces of his power--and he will grow his power at all costs.”

  “Even if that cost comes at the price of his people? Those pieces of his power?” Lee asked as Alexander took another swig of his drink and then proceeded to line up another chess game.

  “Let me show you the answer,” he said, turning the board so that he was black this time. “I want you to go for my king as fast as possible and try to throw away as many pieces as you can in the assault.”

  Lee frowned at the requirement, staring at the board. He knew that he would be more aggressive once he got used to the game, but that didn’t mean that he felt comfortable throwing away his pawns just for a quick win. Either way, he listened to Alexander and did as he was told. He started out with a quick offensive using his knight and the pawn in front of his king.

  “The Scottish gambit,” Alexander observed with a nod of his head, taking Lee’s knight. “It’s a good strategy.” It was a hard and early loss of a major piece, but several moves down the road, Lee had actually managed to secure a win.

  “There you go.” Alexander grinned as he toppled his king. So, you have potential after all.”

  “Yeah, but that playstyle felt uncomfortable,” Lee said. “But I was able to pull it off.”

  “It felt uncomfortable because it is hard to throw away pieces for you, isn’t it? But it got you the win, didn’t it?”

  Lee couldn’t help but agree. The aggressive style had left him in control o
f the entire match. “Yes, it did.”

  “And if you look to the side, you’ll see that you lost much less overall, even though you lost more pieces at the start.”

  “Ah . . .” Lee conceded the point again. Alexander was right: his ability to sacrifice pieces as if they didn’t matter at all had actually helped him preserve more of them than if he had cared about losing them.

  “So, you understand now?”

  “I . . .” Lee looked at the board. Alexander’s point was clear. “I understand.” If he was worried about his people, he couldn’t chase victory. If he didn’t chase victory, even at the sacrifice of his people, then he would be defeated, and he would lose much more than just the few pieces at the side. “But I’m also confused.”

  “How is that?” Alexander asked. “Should we play another game?”

  “No, I’m just confused why you’re worried about whether or not I can lead.”

  “Call it an old man’s hobby,” he chuckled. “You’re talented, you’re bright, and you have great taste in women. Maybe I just want to nurture you to be more than a crappy office worker. That way you can provide for whatever woman you end up with in ten years--though I hope that it is Masha and that she is happy.”

  “Well, I’d drink to that, but I seem to be out,” Lee said, looking at his glass. If Masha’s father wanted to help him learn a few things, things that were helpful for leading, he was more than okay with it. Even as he was staring at the chessboard, he was already starting to see a plan come together. He stared at the knight he had lost during the opening of his attacks and thought, Alexander is right. Miller is right. I’m being too cautious. Even if I reach the pinnacle of combat, of abilities, death is all that awaits me against a larger army. I need to learn to use more of my people, to throw them into combat and keep the good ones for the appropriate time.

  The lesson started to seep into Lee’s head. From the first decision to cut back on forces to his fight in the alleyway, he had been trying to do so much himself. In the end, it only meant that he was going to lose more. If he couldn’t stay alive, Satterfield was doomed. If he didn’t secure the town of Kirshtein, their grasp would spread outward and swallow Satterfield whole. He needed to be ambitious because the slow and inevitable creep of defeat would destroy everything if his own ideology didn’t win--and even if he did win the slow battle, the casualties would be too great.

  So I need to do a Blitzkrieg, don’t I? Just like the Firbolg Herald did. Lee nodded to himself, the beginning of a plan forming in his head. There was just one piece missing. Hoping to gain some additional insight, Lee asked, “If you’re a leader, then what do you do to keep them all in order? Like the pawns lined up here? This is just a game, but in real life, the pieces will move without your consent. How do you stop that?”

  “Charisma? A common cause? Fear? Machiavelli once wrote, ‘When a Prince is leading his army and has many men under his command, he must never turn his back on cruelty, for without it, no army can be maintained.’ Well, I’m paraphrasing perhaps, but the examples are riddled throughout history. The one Machiavelli first turns to is Cesare Borgia, whose cruelty unified the Italian people and returned them to peace.”

  “So, a man must be both callous and cruel to be a great leader?” Lee was curious if another chess game would spawn to reinforce the lesson, but Alexander merely refilled their cups and sipped at the vodka.

  “No, he doesn’t need to be cruel. Cruelty is necessary, but it doesn’t always have to come from the leader. It doesn’t even have to inflict its wounds upon the people it inspires. Its presence must just merely be felt,” Alexander said. “Although, you must keep in mind that these are just my musings . . . my thoughts. I’m sure other leaders think differently, and no one person’s way is entirely wrong. Some just result in different endings. If you had absolute control of the board, you might have protected all of your pawns without having to make a sacrifice. If you are loved enough, perhaps the idea of cruelty is entirely unnecessary. Don’t take what I say for granted: I’m just giving you the lessons a life of leading has given me in hopes you can use it to better your own.”

  “And what do you lead?” Lee asked, taking a swig of the vodka, savoring the smooth flavor.

  “Lead? Nothing more than a family. I’m just a father.” Alexander’s line was said smoothly as if it were rehearsed.

  “A very well-off father,” Lee noted, “with very good taste in vodka.”

  “If you like it, perhaps you should come by to sip some more of it some time. I’m sure Masha would love the visit, and I could always use a sparring partner,” Alexander offered.

  “Dad,” Masha called, interrupting their little meeting as she came in. “Don’t go hogging all of Lee’s free time. And mom says she needs you in the kitchen.”

  Lee knew what that meant: ‘Get out, old man! You’re bogarting my friend!’ It made him chuckle. Lee stood up politely and moved to leave with Masha. “We’ll definitely have to spar some time, but I could use a martial arts instructor or two if you know any,” he said by way of parting as he left.

  Lee and Masha ended up spending the rest of the night on the porch in rocking chairs, enjoying the moonlight and a very thorough conversation about whether it would be easier to face off against a giant bear with a laser or a pack of armored wolves.

  Lee wanted to talk to Masha all night. Listening to her discuss what it was like growing up with such a unique lifestyle and hearing her talk about everything she loved was the perfect way for him to spend his evening. The best part was that he didn’t have to deal with any religious Q&A, bother anyone about converting, debate which beer best honored Augustus while drinking at three in the morning or decide whether Augustus would prefer someone to craft something or drink something in his honor. He didn’t even have to listen to Miller’s long and graphic descriptions on how best to kill someone with a spear--Miller often assured Lee that, while impaling took longer, the effect was worth the effort. In all, the relatively normal conversation about games, movies, food, and silly, childish jokes was a pleasant change.

  He likely would have sat with her until the sun came up, but a black car pulled up in front at some point, putting an end to their conversation. A man stepped out, walked around the car, opened the door and only said four poignant words: “Your ride, sir.”

  It was the least subtle curfew call Lee had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but laugh even as he had to leave a conversation he didn’t feel was finished. Lee was tempted to go in for a goodnight kiss before leaving since he and Masha had been so close and so comfortable for the entire night, but an abrupt cough from the chauffeur stopped him before he could make a move. He wanted to say something, but he also knew the man was acting on behalf of the father who was politely not bothering them.

  The driver took Lee straight to his apartment without being told as if he had driven the route before. It was rather unsettling, but Lee tried not to think about it. He had already jumped in head first, and it was too late to complain about the water possibly being too hot.

  Lee almost jumped out of his skin when he opened the door to his apartment until his brain caught up with his body. There, waiting for him to return home, was a bear as large as he was, propped up on his couch and watching television.

  “You’d think that, with nearly a thousand channels, there would at least be one show to watch,” the bear growled.

  “What in the heck? You’re getting fur everywhere,” Lee complained. Still, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and joined the god on the couch.

  “It’s a small price to pay to maintain my figure. Gotta stay extra fluffy ‘cause girls love the teddy. You know, you really shouldn’t be drinking when you’ve got work in an hour.”

  Ah, that’s right. Work. Between his first day back and the time in the other world, he had spaced out on his mental calendar. “I can’t believe I almost forgot,” Lee sighed, standing up.

  Augustus opened his paw and looked at Lee expectantly. “Hey, pass me that
since you’re not going to drink it.”

  Lee actually felt a little glee as he shot down Augustus’s request. “Work isn’t for an hour. Who says I’m not drinking this? It’s not like I drive to the office.”

  “Well, could you at least go get me a beer and pop the top? These stupid ursine hands--claws, paws, whatever--don’t handle tiny beer openers very well at all. I tried shrinking them down a bit, but it’s still on par with trying to adjust the tiny screws in a pair of glasses,” Augustus grumbled.

  “Well, maybe you should have just changed into a monkey,” Lee suggested. “Then you’d be able to work the fridge and steal all my beers without any effort.”

  “I did a primate during my last visit here with you. Wanted to change things up.” Augustus just extended his paw again, and it only took a moment for Lee to crack open another cold beer and pass it to the bear. “So why are you going to work? You know you could just cheat at cards, cure some rich person or do any number of things to make a ton of money and not have to show up again, right?”

  Lee nodded. “Yeah, but wouldn’t that ruin the simplicity of this life? I mean, if-- Wait, cheat at cards?” Lee stopped halfway to his room. He had planned on changing into work clothes but suddenly came to a halt when something occurred to him. “Do you mean? Could I . . .” Lee set down his beer and went into his home office, where he began digging around for something.

  Augustus swiveled his bear head around to follow Lee as best he could without getting up from the couch. “What are you up to now?”

  “Well, it’s not smithing, but I’m wondering if it falls into the category of other crafting things.” Lee opened up a pen and dipped his finger on the ink, then placed the other hand on the paper. “If it does, then I think I may have found my way out of that stupid prison when I get back.”