1 State of Grace

by John Phythyon

  Wolf had a plan. It was not going to be easy, but, based on the cards in his hand and the order of what he would eventually get, he thought it might work. The trick would be forcing Silverleaf to cheat at the right times. Wolf had played green often and was familiar with its assets. He needed to draw out the cards that could undo his plans.

  He took a sip of his wine and then drew his first card – another zombie. He pretended to think carefully about what to do. Then, he reached into his reserves, counted out thirty gold in chips, and tossed them into the pot. He placed the three zombies on the mountain with the six monsters already occupying it. Appreciative commentary made its way through the observers. It was going to be hell for Silverleaf to conquer. The zombies could be killed only with fire, and they could turn any units they killed into zombies themselves.

  “Five hundred gold on the ambassador to clear the mountain within three turns,” a man said. He placed his money on the sideboard. Several others bet against him. A few joined his wager.

  As a player, Wolf was under no obligation to respond to any of the side bets. He only had to match whatever Silverleaf wagered. However, whichever player “won” the side bet received one percent of its total. The house raked another two percent.

  Wolf placed one gold on the fungal infestation, activating its special power. Every time he paid a gold to it, it multiplied. Each chip represented another fungal infestation card. It wasn’t a particularly strong unit, but, if allowed to spread, it could be difficult to destroy. Wolf was betting he could develop it into a nasty hurdle for Silverleaf’s troops.

  Finally, he paid another thirty-five gold to the pot and placed the “staff of darkness” card on the cave wight. There was another flurry of betting as the odds on Silverleaf being able to make good on the side bet got longer.

  “I think that’s all for now,” Wolf pronounced. “You may go, Ambassador.”

  Wolf leaned back in his chair and sipped more of the cabernet. He lifted the flagon high to make it appear as if he was taking a large drink, but he only allowed a small amount of the pleasant wine into his mouth. He sat the flagon down, produced a handkerchief to wipe his mouth, and then smiled at Silverleaf. The elf only stared at him.

  Silverleaf drew a card from his deck. Wolf watched for the flash of magical energy, but it didn’t come. He was only half surprised by this. He didn’t have an opportunity to watch Silverleaf deal, but he was sure the ambassador had made sure to get the seven cards he wanted. For the moment, he was willing to play the deck as it was shuffled. Wolf suspected Silverleaf was still trying to get a feel for what he needed to do to win.

  After putting his draw in his hand, Silverleaf considered his options. He drummed his fingers lightly on the tabletop.

  “So tell me, Ambassador,” Wolf said. “I’ve never been to Alfar. What’s it like?”

  Silverleaf peered over the top of his hand and fixed Wolf with another withering gaze. Wolf smiled amiably.

  “I’m not surprised,” Silverleaf answered, a cruel tone entering his voice. “You Urlanders love to tell others what to do without ever having been anywhere beyond your own home.”

  He reached down to his chips and tossed ten gold into the pot. Then he laid a “swiftness” card on one of the elf units in the forest adjacent to Wolf’s mountain. The elves could now move at double their speed.

  “Oh, I didn’t say I’d never traveled,” Wolf said. “I’ve traveled all over the world. I’ve been to Gallica, Bretelstein, Patria, Celia, even Phrygia.”

  “Those are all human kingdoms,” Silverleaf criticized. “The languages are different, but the behaviors are the same. You should visit some non-human countries if you really want to see something different.”

  “Well,” Wolf went on, pretending not to notice the ambassador’s nasty tone, “I’ve met dwarfs in Bretelstein, although you’re right, I’ve never been to Nidavellir. But I’d love to see Alfar. Is it as beautiful as they say?”

  “Yes,” Silverleaf said quickly. He looked over his cards again, then added, “At least it was.”

  “Before the civil war?” Wolf prodded.

  He was rewarded with a hateful glare. There was real fire in Silverleaf’s eyes. Wolf could sense himself making a serious enemy of the big elf. It made him uncomfortable, but he was pleased Silverleaf was angry. It would cloud his focus.

  “Yes,” Silverleaf said. “And the Urlish occupation.”

  Wolf was unable to resist baiting the ambassador further. He knew it was risky, but he needed Silverleaf thinking about something other than the game, and he had decided he didn’t like the Alfari ambassador. He was a cheat and a jerk. Wolf wanted to make him pay.

  “Occupation?” Wolf said. “That seems a little strong. Didn’t your government ask us to deploy troops there to help keep the peace and keep it in power?”

  “Yes!” Silverleaf said, his voice rising. After a moment, he got himself back under control. “Mr. Dasher, I have no wish to discuss politics here. In fact, I have no wish to discuss anything. I would prefer to play the game in peace.”

  “Sorry, Ambassador,” Wolf said. There was no sincerity in his tone. “Are you sure I can’t buy you a drink?”

  Silverleaf had to grip the edge of the table to keep from exploding. He closed his eyes for a moment and then sighed softly.

  “No, thank you,” he said. Before Wolf could say something else, he tossed twelve gold into the pot and played another card: “area effect.”

  “That spell causes the ‘swiftness’ spell to affect all the units in the area. All my elves and pixies now have a movement of two.”

  “Well, not quite all,” Wolf said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the area affected is that forest territory you played the spell in. It doesn’t include more than one territory, so your elf that is in this territory over here,” Wolf said, pointing at the forest with a single unit in it, “isn’t covered by the spell. It still has a movement of one. You’d have had to move it into this territory with all your other units for it to have benefited from the ‘swiftness’ card.”

  Wolf watched as Silverleaf’s blood boiled. His face turned a strange color of purple, and the whites of his eyes became red. His hands shook with rage. There could be only one explanation. Wolf’s banter had broken his concentration; he’d forgotten to move the elf unit.

  Without a word, Silverleaf threw fifty gold into the pot and dropped a dragon – the same one he defeated Sir Leslie with – onto the territory with the two elves and two pixies. He didn’t smile smugly like he had when playing Sir Leslie. He scowled, and looked as if he would like to tear Wolf’s throat out.

  “Oh, wow,” Wolf said, “You dealt yourself that? That’s a stroke of luck.”

  Wolf knew luck had nothing to do with it, but he continued to play the affable fool. The card presented him with a problem, though. The dragon had a movement of three. It could reach his mountain lair when it was able to move next turn. It had an attack rating of ten – the highest of any monster. Moreover, it could breathe fire, which rendered his fungal infestation and his zombies vulnerable to its attacks. Silverleaf was planning to rout Wolf in the second turn. With Wolf’s units cleared, he’d be able to march across the remaining territories unhindered.

  The strategy was confirmed when Silverleaf turned his elves and pixies first sideways and then upside down to indicate they were climbing the mountain and had made two moves to do so. On the ambassador’s next turn, all four units and the dragon would be in position to attack.

  Wolf quickly added up the defense values of his cards. It would be enough to withstand the initial onslaught. Silverleaf couldn’t get him in the next round, but he could seriously damage Wolf’s position, making the result academic, barring a miracle.

  Wolf sensed the Urland-hating elf wouldn’t be able to wait. He was angry. He was going to make sure he got Wolf next turn. Wolf tried to think of all the ways he could do that with the cards available to him. Wolf wasn’t an expert on
the game, but he could think of two, maybe three, combinations that would increase the size of the damage the ambassador could inflict. He thought he knew which one he would choose. The easiest way was to play the “gargantuan” card on the dragon, and that was exactly what Silvearleaf had done to defeat Sir Leslie. Off his game, facing an unconventional and irritating opponent, Silverleaf was likely to employ the same, familiar tactic. Either he had the “gargantuan” card in his hand, or he would cheat to draw it next turn.

  Silverleaf finished his turn by moving the lone elf card into the forest the others had occupied. Then he glared at Wolf and adopted a smile. This one was not smug; it was cruel.

  “I wonder, Mr. Dasher,” he said, “if you’d like to make things a little more interesting.”

  “Sure,” Wolf said, as if he couldn’t see what was coming. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I feel a very interesting game coming on,” Silverleaf continued. “How about we double our wager?”

  The crowd went silent. Every one of them knew what Silverleaf’s bet meant. He thought he had a combination to blow Wolf away in the next turn or so. The hope that this newcomer who played so strangely had a chance to defeat the invincible Sagaius Silverleaf went out of the room.

  Wolf understood it. He knew what Silverleaf was going to do. He just didn’t know how to prevent it. He might have overreached.

  “So you want us both to ante another five thousand gold?” Wolf said, trying hard to sound as though he wasn’t fazed.

  “Precisely.”

  Wolf listened for the voice from The Rift. This time it offered him nothing. He swore silently and looked over his cards. Was there any hope the four he had left could overcome the ambassador’s cheat?

  To his surprise, he saw that there was. He’d been planning on a long, slogging game where he would draw out Silverleaf’s best cards, outlasting him until he was in position to win. But he saw now he had a chance to turn the upcoming assault on his opponent and end the game quickly.

  He counted the cards Silverleaf had left in his hand. The Alfari ambassador played three cards, leaving him with five. He was mounting a major assault. It was therefore unlikely he had any soldiers or monsters left in his hand. He would have played them otherwise. That meant he was only holding spells. The question was: was one of them the “gargantuan” card? If it was, Silverleaf could cheat to draw another devastating monster from his deck. That might be enough to topple Wolf. But if he wasn’t holding “gargantuan,” he would have to use magic to get it. That meant he couldn’t get another monster and would have to assault Wolf with the elves, pixies, and dragon alone.

  Was it worth the risk? Wolf decided it was. Even if Silverleaf could draw another monster next turn, Wolf’s strategy would, at worst, produce a stalemate. Then he could play the long game he’d been planning with several of Silverleaf’s most powerful cards out of the game.

  “You must be awfully confident, Ambassador,” he said. “We’ve each only had one turn, and you’re already making a huge bet.”

  “I like living dangerously,” Silverleaf replied. His smug smile was back. “Besides, I’ve never lost. Why wouldn’t I be confident?”

  “A fair point,” Wolf said. He threw back some more wine. “Very well. I’ll see your five thousand ... and I’ll raise it another five thousand by betting you can’t beat me in three turns.”

  The crowd gasped as one. All eyes were on Silverleaf, who managed not to lose his smile. But his eyes told a different story.

  “I hardly think there’s a need to get carried away, Mr. Dasher,” he said.

  Wolf searched his face. Was he bluffing? Was he trying to conceal his forthcoming masterstroke? Or had Wolf unsettled him? Was he suddenly not so sure? Wolf couldn’t tell. Silverleaf was so beautiful he was hard to look at for long. And he kept his expression the same. Still, Wolf thought he read concern in the elf’s eyes, so he decided to press.

  “I didn’t think I was getting carried away,” Wolf said. “I thought I was playing in your spirit of the game. But if you’d rather not, that’s fine. You can concede the match rather than accept the bet.”

  Someone in the crowd choked on his drink. Doubtless, the elf who never lost had never been told to accept a bet or concede. Silverleaf’s eyes flared at the very suggestion.

  “There will be no concession, Mr. Dasher,” he said. “If you were hoping to chase me away by making the pot too large, your strategy has failed.”

  “Just so we understand, then,” Wolf said, “if you can beat me in three turns or less you win the pot plus an additional five thousand from me. If you can’t, I get five thousand from you, whether you win the game or lose.”

  “Understood,” Silverleaf said after a pause.

  “Great,” Wolf said and flashed a happy smile. “William, would you please put another ten thousand gold in the pot for me?”

  “Yes, Mr. Dasher,” William said. He looked uncomfortable.

  “Thank you,” Wolf said. He leaned back in his chair, drained his wine goblet and smiled. “Isabelle, I’ll need my cup refilled.”

  “Yes, Mr. Dasher,” she said, flashing bedroom eyes at him. They were a brilliant shade of blue.

  Wolf pulled his mind away from the distraction and tried to appear as if this was all jolly good fun. Then he drew a card. He knew without looking it was a “blood sacrifice” and placed it in his hand. Casually, he tossed two gold onto the fungal infestation.

  “That makes four in that territory now,” he commented.

  “No,” Silverleaf said. “You can’t play on the copy, only on the original. You may only pay one gold and increase the number of fungi to three.” Again his tone implied he would not be overruled.

  “I don’t think so, Ambassador,” Wolf said. “According to the text on the card, paying one gold allows you to make an exact copy of the card. If the copy is exact, then the special ability would be copied as well.”

  Wolf fell silent and waited for Silverleaf’s counterargument. He was ready to have William consult the rules again.

  “Very well,” Silverleaf said, sounding angry.

  Wolf considered the rest of his cards. Should he play any of them now or wait to see the shape of Silverleaf’s attack? He elected to wait.

  “So, Ambassador, you were telling me how beautiful Alfar is,” Wolf said.

  “I told you nothing other than it is beautiful, Mr. Dasher. If you want to know how beautiful, you will have to visit it yourself. Are you finished?”

  “Hmm?” Wolf said, pretending to have forgotten what he was doing. “Oh, yes! Sorry, Ambassador, it’s your turn.”

  Simone winked at Wolf. She looked as though she hadn’t had this much fun in a long time.

  Silverleaf reached for his deck. Wolf watched carefully. This time there was a flash of magic from the elf’s hand. Wolf hid a smile as Isabelle delivered his wine. She tried to put her breasts in his face, but he leaned around them so as to keep his eyes on his opponent. He tossed another five-gold chip on her tray without comment.

  The ambassador studied his draw for a moment as if a new idea had come into his mind. Then the smug smile crept over his face, and he stared into Wolf’s eyes.

  “Mr. Dasher,” he began, “I can’t help but feel this is the most interesting game of Conquest I’ve ever played, and I just can’t resist making it even more exciting. I’m willing to bet ten thousand gold I can wipe out your entire force this turn. What do you say?”

  Wolf tried hard not to laugh. Silverleaf was doing exactly what he thought he would do. Now he just had to hope the elf didn’t have some other trick he was playing Wolf hadn’t thought of.

  “I’d say you’re insane, Ambassador,” Wolf replied. “Your dragon’s fire could no doubt wipe out my fungi or my zombies, but it isn’t enough to get them both, even with the help of your elves and pixies. You’re throwing your money away.”

  “Nevertheless,” Silverleaf said, sounding happy for the first time, “I just can’t resist. Please say you’
ll keep playing. You could certainly forfeit, but it would be so much more fun to see if I can actually do this.”

  “Very well, Ambassador,” Wolf said, sounding as though he was resigned to the actions of a fool. “It’s your money.”

  Wolf signaled for William to place another ten thousand gold in the pot as Silverleaf pushed over an enormous number of chips. A flurry of betting rapidly ensued, with nearly everyone betting on Silverleaf. They’d seen him pull off the unthinkable before. It was too sure a bet, as much as they might hate it.

  There was one notable exception, though. The shabby noble proudly plunked down fifty gold in favor of Wolf. He smiled boldly at Wolf, although he looked to have concern in his eyes.

  With the betting settled, Silverleaf leaned forward. He licked his lips in anticipation.

  “I’m afraid it might have been cheaper if you’d folded, Mr. Dasher,” he said, using the same tone he’d taunted Sir Leslie with. He tossed fifteen gold into the pot and played a card on his dragon. “Gargantuan,” he said.

  “Unbelievable!” a voice exclaimed. Wolf glanced at its source and saw Sir Leslie.

  “Not nearly so much as you think,” Silverleaf replied. He tossed another fifteen gold into the pot and played a second “gargantuan” card on the dragon. “Now the dragon has four times its size, range, and attack and defense values.”

  The crowd gasped. Silverleaf had played masterfully. If Wolf could somehow find a way to neutralize one of the “gargantuans” there was still a second he would have to deal with. The elf had guaranteed he could do enough damage to vaporize Wolf’s entire force.

  “Wow,” Wolf commented as though this were something amazing to behold. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a double-gargantuan, let alone one played on a dragon. That’s pretty impressive.”

  “Thank you,” Silverleaf said. He almost sounded sincere.

  “So do you get to live in a giant castle, since you’re with the government,” Wolf asked as Silverleaf moved his cards into Wolf’s mountain territory.