1 State of Grace (3 page)

Wolf chewed his lip for a moment. He didn’t like Silverleaf. The elf was a cheater, and Wolf abhorred that. Moreover, he was doing it to punish his opponents. Wolf wanted to know more about that. What was the source of the ambassador’s anti-Urlish sentiment? Finally, Simone was afraid of her lover. Wolf had little patience for a man who didn’t know to treat a woman well, especially a beautiful one like Simone de Beausoir.

His assignment was to observe Silverleaf and see what he could learn. So far, he’d ascertained that the Alfari ambassador was a jerk. It wasn’t exactly the kind of intelligence that would tell him anything about Sara’s death. He decided it was time to take the measure of Silverleaf in a new way. He stood up.

“Thank you for your company,” he told Simone. “I enjoyed talking to you very much.”

Then he walked straight towards Silverleaf’s table, setting his shoulders as he went.

“What are you doing?” he heard Simone say behind him, but he ignored her.

At the table, Silverleaf was counting his winnings, a classless thing to do. He was further rubbing in his victory. Wolf approached and threw a winning smile at the big elf.

“Fancy a game, Ambassador?” Wolf said.

Everyone in the club stopped talking. All eyes were on Wolf and the foreigner. Wolf smiled innocently.

“I assume you know how to play, Mr. Dasher?”

“I’ve played a few times,” Wolf answered.

“Well, this is a high-stakes game,” Silverleaf said, his magnificent eyes boring into Wolf. “The buy-in is five thousand gold. Side bets for the players are a minimum of five hundred. The pot for my game with Sir Leslie ended up being sixteen thousand, four hundred, eighty-three. I’ve never seen you here before. You’ll forgive me if I inquire as to your collateral.”

Wolf struggled to hold Silverleaf’s gaze. He was so frighteningly beautiful, it was hard to look at him and harder still to meet his eyes.

In the club, everyone stared at them. Silverleaf had been rude. One did not ask a gentleman or lady if he or she had funds to cover a bet. Their word as a noble was sufficient security that debts would be paid, especially in a club like the Dubonney. What would Wolf do, they wondered. Would he back down? Would he insult Silverleaf? Would he challenge him to some sort of duel? Wolf knew instinctively no one had ever dared to stand up to the elf. They were all too afraid of him.

“I’ll stake him,” a crusty voice called out. Wolf turned to find its source. The shabby noble he’d been talking to had pulled himself up into a proud, defiant stance. Wolf smiled.

“Thank you, sir,” he said. “But that won’t be necessary. I have the funds.” He turned to the
croupier
. “I believe my family name should be more than enough insurance.”

The
croupier
snapped his fingers, and a server in a red uniform designed to accentuate her cleavage, moved across the gaming room
en route
to the
concierge
desk. No one spoke. They all waited to find out what would happen next. Wolf supposed they hadn’t seen anything this exciting in a long time.

“I wonder,” Silverleaf asked, “why you wish to play me.”

“Well, I enjoy a little sport as much as the next man,” Wolf said.

“Sport, eh?” Silverleaf said. He gave Wolf another disdainful look. “And what makes you think our game will be sporting, Mr. Dasher? You bet on me in the last game, because you know I never lose. Why do you think your fate will be different than Sir Leslie’s?”

“Because I know your secret,” Wolf replied.

“And what is that?”

“Like you said, ‘magic.’”

Silverleaf searched Wolf’s face, trying to figure out if Wolf really knew how he was cheating. Wolf smiled impassively.

“And I suppose you have a little magic of your own?” Silverleaf said at last.

“No, I have something better.”

“And what is better than magic, Mr. Dasher?”

“Skill,” Wolf answered. This time he dropped the smile, so there could be no misunderstanding between them.

Presently, the server returned. She looked flushed.

“The Dasher family is a member of the Royal Court,” she announced. “Their assets are currently valued in the millions.”

She smiled broadly at Wolf and brushed her curly blonde hair away from her face. Wolf couldn’t help but smile when she thrust her chest out a little bit. It was amazing what the smell of money could generate in people.

“Very well,” Silverleaf said. “Sit, Mr. Dasher, and let us see about this skill of yours.”

Chapter 4: Conquest

(Twelve Days before Revelation Day)

Wolf seated himself across from Silverleaf and flashed a casual smile at him. Unbidden, fear rose in his heart. He’d just agreed to play a very difficult and expensive game with an opponent who never lost and who cheated in a way that made it impossible to catch. What had he accomplished except forfeiting a bunch of the Shadow Service’s money? Wolf’s family name was good enough to secure him any amount of credit he needed for this mission, but the Dasher family would never pay his debts. He was disowned, a pariah. If he lost a lot of money, Her Majesty’s Shadow Service would end up being stuck with the bill.

... trust ...

The whisper came in the back of his mind. Wolf’s powers came from The Rift – a poorly understood tear in the fabric of reality – that poured its black energy into the world, transforming some people into Shadows. The Rift was always whispering to him, to every Shadow. Most often, it was impossible to tell what it was saying. It mumbled its dark ideas nearly inaudibly. It was more intelligible in Mensch, the former capital of Bretelstein, where The Rift lay. Out here in Urland, it was just a murmur. But occasionally, a word or two could be understood, and it usually held some significance. Wolf hated that insidious, cloying voice, but he had learned to trust it.

He took a long drink from his cabernet, savored the blackberry and chocolate flavors woven through it, and enjoyed the burn on the back of his throat. Then he cleared his mind. If he was going to beat Silverleaf, he needed his wits about him.

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.