wonderful tactic. It made it that much easier to kill your opponent if he was scared.
Tsking, Charver shook his little head. “Because none of the pieces are removed from this game. If the piece cannot move this turn, it must be moved the first turn it is able.”
Pointing to four oddly marked squares—the four diagonal to each of the center four squares—Klain made a circular motion with one claw. “And the game is won when either of us gets three of our pieces on any three of these four squares?”
“Aye! Those are the watering ponds. Having any three of your pieces on three of them ends the game.” With a big grin, the boy-cub snapped his fingers. “Simple as that! Shall we play now?”
Klain most definitely did not want to play the game, even if it was the oldest on the Plane. Sitting in a room, moving tiny carved pieces around a checkered board, was not something he saw as enjoyable. Yet, the boy-cub was his charge—not to mention the fact that the boy had saved Klain’s life. If a few aurns spent playing a game made Charver happy, Klain could find the willingness. “Aye. I suppose we can.”
Clapping his hands, Charver reset all the game pieces. “You can move first, Master Klain.”
Eyes wandering over the board, Klain reached out and grabbed the Krugour. Just as he was about to place the piece back down a few tiles from its original position, the door to the sitting room opened and a Human walked in. Klain smiled as the boy-cub jumped at the sudden entrance—the pads of Klain’s hindpaws had picked up the vibrations of the man’s boots coming down the hall well before he reached the door, though the door shut off the man’s scent from his nose so he had been unaware of who would enter—and watched the boy scowl up at his father.
Rohann Vimith was not a large man, even by Human standards—the man’s head stopped just short of Klain’s shoulder. The prosperous diamond merchant’s beard, spackled with gray and cut to a point, left his upper lip bare, as was the local style.
The man who followed in Master Vimith’s wake almost made Klain give a start to rival the boy-cub’s. Not that Klain did not expect a second person—his hindpaws told him there were two—who it was, however, startled him.
Satner Timms, the head of Master Vimith’s bodyguards, had avoided Klain like a disease since their last “encounter.” The man glanced at Klain as he continued his rant at their Master. “This is not what I signed up for. You say that you have been planning this for winters, yet this is the first I have heard of it? I am the head of your bodyguards. You tell me everything. And now, you want me to believe that you have kept this secret from me for how long?”
Rohann waved a hand over his shoulder. “Believe as you will, Timms.” He knelt down beside his son. “How are we this day, Charver?”
Charver’s scowl turned into a grin as it did whenever his father turned his attention to his son. “Fine, father. And you?”
Casting a stern look over his shoulder toward Timms forced the bodyguard to hold his tongue. Rohann ran a hand over his beard to sharpen the already sharp point. “How would you like to go on a quest, son?”
Saucer sized eyes filled Charver’s face and his mouth hung open. “A quest! Where?”
“Well…” Rohann reached out and picked up one of the white Drakon playing pieces from the board. “…I have been trying to acquire information about a fabled lost city for a long time now.”
“Lost city!” The boy-cub’s words were little more than wind escaping his lips. Klain noted that this caused the smile on Master Vimith’s face to grow, and the scowl on Timms’ to deepen.
“Yes. It is far from here and may take us more than a moon to reach it. Yet, I have obtained information that will lead us there.” Standing—with Klain sitting it was the only time Rohann looked down on him—Master Vimith held out the white playing piece for Klain to take. “And it
Tsking, Charver shook his little head. “Because none of the pieces are removed from this game. If the piece cannot move this turn, it must be moved the first turn it is able.”
Pointing to four oddly marked squares—the four diagonal to each of the center four squares—Klain made a circular motion with one claw. “And the game is won when either of us gets three of our pieces on any three of these four squares?”
“Aye! Those are the watering ponds. Having any three of your pieces on three of them ends the game.” With a big grin, the boy-cub snapped his fingers. “Simple as that! Shall we play now?”
Klain most definitely did not want to play the game, even if it was the oldest on the Plane. Sitting in a room, moving tiny carved pieces around a checkered board, was not something he saw as enjoyable. Yet, the boy-cub was his charge—not to mention the fact that the boy had saved Klain’s life. If a few aurns spent playing a game made Charver happy, Klain could find the willingness. “Aye. I suppose we can.”
Clapping his hands, Charver reset all the game pieces. “You can move first, Master Klain.”
Eyes wandering over the board, Klain reached out and grabbed the Krugour. Just as he was about to place the piece back down a few tiles from its original position, the door to the sitting room opened and a Human walked in. Klain smiled as the boy-cub jumped at the sudden entrance—the pads of Klain’s hindpaws had picked up the vibrations of the man’s boots coming down the hall well before he reached the door, though the door shut off the man’s scent from his nose so he had been unaware of who would enter—and watched the boy scowl up at his father.
Rohann Vimith was not a large man, even by Human standards—the man’s head stopped just short of Klain’s shoulder. The prosperous diamond merchant’s beard, spackled with gray and cut to a point, left his upper lip bare, as was the local style.
The man who followed in Master Vimith’s wake almost made Klain give a start to rival the boy-cub’s. Not that Klain did not expect a second person—his hindpaws told him there were two—who it was, however, startled him.
Satner Timms, the head of Master Vimith’s bodyguards, had avoided Klain like a disease since their last “encounter.” The man glanced at Klain as he continued his rant at their Master. “This is not what I signed up for. You say that you have been planning this for winters, yet this is the first I have heard of it? I am the head of your bodyguards. You tell me everything. And now, you want me to believe that you have kept this secret from me for how long?”
Rohann waved a hand over his shoulder. “Believe as you will, Timms.” He knelt down beside his son. “How are we this day, Charver?”
Charver’s scowl turned into a grin as it did whenever his father turned his attention to his son. “Fine, father. And you?”
Casting a stern look over his shoulder toward Timms forced the bodyguard to hold his tongue. Rohann ran a hand over his beard to sharpen the already sharp point. “How would you like to go on a quest, son?”
Saucer sized eyes filled Charver’s face and his mouth hung open. “A quest! Where?”
“Well…” Rohann reached out and picked up one of the white Drakon playing pieces from the board. “…I have been trying to acquire information about a fabled lost city for a long time now.”
“Lost city!” The boy-cub’s words were little more than wind escaping his lips. Klain noted that this caused the smile on Master Vimith’s face to grow, and the scowl on Timms’ to deepen.
“Yes. It is far from here and may take us more than a moon to reach it. Yet, I have obtained information that will lead us there.” Standing—with Klain sitting it was the only time Rohann looked down on him—Master Vimith held out the white playing piece for Klain to take. “And it
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