by Ben Hale
“Nope, I just need to get home. I’m from Terros.”
“Hey! That’s where I’m from! I haven’t been back in a few years though. Anything changed?”
Braon hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding, “Nah, pretty much the same.”
Trin didn’t miss the pause, but still figured it wouldn’t be a problem to take him with them. “I would think you can come with us, but you’d need to ask the captain. Care to join us at our table?”
“Sure,” he answered and finished gathering up the game pieces.
As Braon followed Trin through the crowded room, Trin took the opportunity to surreptitiously study the young man behind him. With a few casual backward glances, he noticed two things. Braon was definitely not a fighter; his movement was exactly that of a plump young man. The odd thing was that his eyes were those of a fighter: cautious and wary, they took everything in. For some reason he couldn’t explain, Trin would bet anything that Braon knew everything that was going on in the room—including any threats.
Stopping next to Hunrin, Trin addressed the captain. “This young man would like to sail with us to Terros.”
Erix leaned back and pursed his lips, measuring Braon for a moment before giving his answer. “I don’t hold with disrespect,” he said firmly. “If you don’t follow my orders, I will drop you at the first spot of dry land. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, sir. Thank you for the ride. I was beginning to lose hope for a chance to return home this week.” Braon’s attitude conveyed the utmost respect; he even bowed a little.
The captain’s expression softened. “Any parents with you, or are you by yourself? And are you riding as a deckhand or passenger?”
“By myself, and passenger preferably,” he responded easily.
“Six silver, then, and you have yourself a deal,” Erix offered.
Braon answered by reaching into a bag at his waist and handing the captain nine pieces of silver. “What time do we leave, sir?”
Erix held the money and looked with crinkled brow at the young man. Six silver was the price of a child. Nine silver was for an adult. “At first light we are going to get some supplies and then leave as soon as possible.”
“I will be at your ship at first light. Thanks again.” And with that he turned and walked away.
“Do you want to know which ship?” Trin called out to him.
He looked back just long enough to say, “The Sea Dancer, I already know.”
As he walked towards the back of the inn, Hun spoke for the first time. “That is one smart kid, Captain.”
“I’d have to agree with that,” Erix replied in amusement, “and there’s no question he’s used to taking care of himself. I wonder how he knew about our ship.”
“The kid’s good,” Trin said, his tone thoughtful as he watched Braon’s retreating form work its way towards the back of the room. As he finally sat down he couldn’t shake the feeling that the young man had already known who he was and what ship he was on, before he’d even introduced himself.
They only had a moment to consider the interesting encounter before the barmaid returned with four bowls of steaming stew and mugs of ale.
“Folson said he would talk to you in the back in half an hour," her tone dropped, "alone. He said to give you a room as well. Upstairs, third door on the right.” Then she disappeared without waiting for a response.
“Do you have a friend in every city?” Trin asked as they began to eat.
“At least one,” Erix replied with a small smile.
They finished the meal in silence with each of them wrapped up in their thoughts. Finishing first, the captain stood. “I am going to talk to Folson. I’ll meet you in the room.”
He strode towards the back and disappeared through a door. A few minutes later the three of them climbed the stairs and found their room. Trin wasn’t the only one yawning as they climbed into the rickety beds and quickly fell asleep.
It felt like only an hour before Hun shook Trin awake.
“Time to go. The others are already downstairs eating breakfast,” he said.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Trin said, irritated, but sat up and pulled his boots on.
“We tried, but you refused to stop snoring,” Hun exclaimed with a bark of laughter.
Trin snorted and finished strapping his longsword to his back before following Hunrin down the stairs. Entered the dining hall, he stopped short at the feel in the room. Whatever levity the previous night’s games had provided was long gone. Men and women alike cast suspicious glances on each other, and few were speaking. Despite the warmth from the fire, Trin felt a chill go down his spine.
Grabbing a plate from the bar, he joined the others and ate fast enough to finish at the same time. He wasn’t surprised that no one else teased him about not waking up. The tension in the room made even him lose his sense of humor.
Erix slapped some coins on the table and stood. “Let’s get some supplies and get out of this place,” he said in an undertone.
Trin nodded in relief and followed them back into the streets. Streaks of light were barely piercing the darkness and the early morning chill still held frost on windows as they hurried down dim alleys. It was even earlier than he’d thought. Dawn was still at least half an hour away. He smiled to himself, No wonder it was hard for them to wake me.
Light continued to chase away the night, but the few people they passed refused to lighten with it. By the time they got to the city wall and the markets, Trin had to suppress the desire to run out of the city. Without a word, the four of them lengthened their strides and arrived at the shops just as they were opening.
Erix spoke to a few merchants and ordered several crates and barrels of supplies. The sun finally broke free of the horizon just as the four of them were walking onto the ship with a few dockhands rolling barrels behind them. The moment his boots touched the deck, Erix barked for his first mate: “Frey! Get this ship under way as soon as possible.”
Frey’s bald head popped into view from behind the helm, and he began shouting instructions to the crew who jumped to get the ship back on its way to Terros. Within minutes the Sea Dancer pulled away from the dock as the crew efficiently finished their assigned tasks. Before long they were sailing into the huge lake.
Trin leaned on the rail and forced himself to relax as Tallendale finally began to sink out of view. The horrible feeling that had dominated the city didn’t seem to extend onto the clear waters, and he felt his heart lift as the wind filled the sails. Sunlight danced on the blue water that crashed against the prow as the strong breeze drove the vessel forward.
A light voice spoke beside him. “I love the lake.”
Looking at the source, he found Braon next to him. Chuckling in chagrin, he realized that he’d forgotten all about the lad—but wasn’t surprised to see that he’d made it on the ship.
“How did you get on board?” Trin asked the young man.
Braon shrugged, “They were suspicious of course, but it’s easy for me to not appear as a threat.”
Trin laughed and shook his head. He didn’t doubt for a second that the chubby youth could play the innocent card well.
On the other side of him a musical voice spoke up. “I thought he was rather resourceful,” Mae said with a rare smile.
They enjoyed the view for several minutes until Trin looked at the young man beside him. “So, are you going to teach me your game, or am I going to have to throw you overboard first?”
Braon laughed easily, and Trin got the impression he was just as glad to be out of the city. “Follow me,” Braon said.
Trin glanced at Mae with a raised eyebrow, but she refused the unasked invitation. “I will let you boys play,” she said with her gaze directed towards the lake and a small smile still on her lips.
Shrugging, Trin followed Braon down to the tiny galley and helped set up a couple of chairs next to a barrel. Braon then pulled out the bag containing his game and laid the flat wooden board
onto the barrel. He then placed several pieces onto squares. Some were black or green while others were red.
Looking at Trin, the young man began, “Stratos is a game that simulates a battle between two generals. Each player chooses a different color.” He pointed at one of the small soldiers. “To begin, each player selects an army. You can choose to be elves, which are green, humans, which are black, or dwarves which are red. Each one has its advantages and slightly different soldiers.” Handing Trin a green piece that looked remarkably like an elf with a longbow, he continued, “This is an elven archer. They are better than the human archers and can attack further pieces.” Pointing to several others in turn, he said, “This is a human swordsman, this is a human knight, this is a dwarf with an axe, this is an elf with a short sword. Any questions so far?”
Trin shook his head, so Braon continued. “The field of battle is made up of squares, with ten to a side. Each player moves a single piece on his turn. To attack another piece, you simply move your piece to the same square. We begin by each choosing a race and ten pieces from that race. You have to show me five of the ones you have picked. The other five you won’t show me until we reveal our side of the board. You may place your pieces on the first three rows on your side, but cover what you are doing with this," he indicated a piece of cloth, "so I can’t see where you place your army or what other five pieces you have selected. We won’t play that rule though until you have a feel for the game.”
“Can you explain a little more about the different pieces and races before we start?” Trin asked.
Braon bobbed his head and pointed at the piece in Trin’s hand. “Each piece moves in a specific pattern. The elven longbow in your hand can attack four spaces straight, and one to either side.” Placing it in the center of the board, he indicated the squares that the elven longbow could move to by sliding his finger straight four, then to the side one. “The elven longbow, just like the dwarf axe throwers and human crossbowmen, can’t attack straight in any direction, or any other square in between. The red axe throwers move two straight, and one to the side, and the human crossbowmen move three straight and one to the side. Do you understand how the ranged attackers work?”
Trin nodded slowly, trying to commit the movements to memory. “I think so. What’s next?”
Braon had already begun separating the different pieces of the human side, and once he was finished he pointed to the three piles. “Each race has five ranged pieces, such as the elven longbow, the human crossbow, and the dwarven axe throwers. Then each race has five foot soldiers, which can move in any direction but are limited in how far they can go. The human knights move only one space, the elves can move two spaces, and the dwarves move three spaces in any direction.”
Trin was smiling. “The dwarves move furthest because of their endurance, the elves move second furthest because of their speed, and the human foot soldiers are slowest so only move one space.”
Braon grinned. “Correct. Most soldiers are quick to recognize the reasons behind the different races’ strengths and weaknesses.”
“So what are the last pieces?” Trin asked, pointing to the last group.
Picking one up, he gave it to Trin. “The third set is the special group, and the one in your hand is the human cavalry. They can move straight in any direction as far as they want, but can’t move diagonally.”
“Sounds powerful,” Trin exclaimed.
“They are, just as the special abilities of both the others are stronger as well.” He picked up a red piece. “This is a dwarf guardian. As you can see, they are armored and carry a double edged battle axe. They can move in any diagonal direction as far as they want.”
“OK, so what about the elves’ special group?”
“Ah, the elven mage,” Braon said with a smile, “one of my favorites, even though many players think of the elves as weaker because the mages have a handicap.”
“What do you mean?”
Braon placed the elven mage onto the center of the board and laid other pieces on different squares around it. “The elven mage can move diagonally or straight as far as they want, but they cannot attack players first. They can only defend other pieces. This means that the only way an elven mage can take another piece is if an opponent killed one they were covering, like this.” He moved a red guardian to take an elven longbow, then took the red guardian with the elven mage. “Understood?”
Trin laughed in delight. “It makes perfect sense. The elves’ magic is more defensive than attack oriented, so it fits.”
Braon grinned. “Exactly. Last of all is the general.” He handed him the most ornate piece of a human man on a horse carrying a raised flag. “All three generals can move only one space in any direction and also carry the flag of your troops. If the general is killed, the game is over.” When Trin nodded Braon asked, “Any questions or are you ready to play?”
“I think I’m ready,” Trin answered, and after a moment’s thought, chose the elves. Braon then showed him how to choose ten of the fifteen pieces and explained how it was better to have a well balanced army.
After a minute of examining the pieces, Trin placed his three elven archers on the row closest to him and two elven swordsmen at various points on his side. Lastly he placed the five mages to cover the rest of his army. When Braon was done placing his human army, they started.
Trin had to laugh at himself. It didn’t take long before the human cavalry had crossed the board and decimated his elves. His archers were able to shoot four squares, but it wasn’t enough to bring down the armored humans. The game ended quickly with Braon the victor. Trin smiled in chagrin, but took notice at how the young man had used the foot soldiers defensively, the crossbowmen as backup, and the cavalry as attackers.
“Want to play again?” Braon asked as he took the last elf.
Trin started laughing. “Of course, but something tells me I’m not going to win, am I?”
Braon smiled, but sidestepped his question. “Which race do you want to be?”
“I’ll try humans,” Trin exclaimed.
Braon’s smile widened and he gave him the human pieces. Trin watched him set up his side with the dwarves. Five minutes later, Trin was watching his general get pinned on the wall and killed.
Laughing again, he tried the dwarves next, but lost to the humans—and then the elves right after. Once he felt he had the hang of the game, Trin asked, “So, why do you have to go back to Terros?”
Braon’s expression hardened in a subtle manner, and he didn’t take his eyes off the board to respond. “My father still lives there, and he doesn’t think I am old enough to live on my own.”
Trin caught just a trace of bitterness, and wondered what kind of father he had. “What about brothers or sisters?”
He shook his head. “None. You?”
Trin grinned at the memory of Aroet. “One, an older brother. He is probably captain by now. He’s several years older than me, and was a sergeant in the guard before I left. Even then, his men called him Captain Arrow. I don’t doubt that by now he has achieved that rank.”
Braon raised an eyebrow. “I think I have heard of him. I believe he rides with the cavalry, and if my memory is correct, he is quite popular with the ladies.”
“That would be him,” Trin laughed, “but I doubt he realizes it. We used to say that he got the looks, the skill, and the sense of responsibility, and I got the fun.” The nostalgia quickly faded and was replaced by a sadness he did his best to hide. “My father was very proud of him, which was why he helped Arrow get into the army. At the time, the better soldiers were given ranks. Those less . . . skilled, were either sent home, became common soldiers, or if the family could afford it, were sent to train with elves.”
Braon’s expression revealed that Trin hadn’t managed to keep the bitterness from his tone, so Trin grinned wide to soften his words. “I consider myself lucky,” he said. “I got to go to an island in the sea with beautiful elves. Aside from daily, brutally exhausting training, it
was like a vacation.”
“I’m sure,” Braon said with a grin that shrank to a tight-lipped smile. “At least you got to go. I came from one of the less fortunate families, so my training did not go as well.”
“What happened?” Trin asked, moving a piece forward, only to see it be taken immediately.
“Let’s just say that I did not excel in weaponry, and my . . . other skills . . . only cultivated enemies.”
“That must have been hard,” Trin said, realizing that despite his familial problems, he probably did have a better life than many of the other students at the early training in Terros. “So how long will you stay in Terros?”
Braon laughed. “Until the next tournament.”
Looking down, Trin watched him take one of his last pieces. “Well, you are certainly winning this contest. Care to start over?”
The kid nodded and they began to reset the board, but Trin found his mind returning to their conversation. Something about it left him feeling unsettled, until he realized that the young man had learned a great deal about him, while revealing very little about himself. The little he did say had served to reinforce a perception of youth and vulnerability. Yet there was something entirely too concise about the way he’d expressed his words.
Never one for subtlety, Trin asked with a sly smile, “Do you always work conversations to your advantage?”
Braon paused and looked at him, his expression calculating. “Most of the time,” he admitted, and then shrugged. “It helps to know those around you.”
“—and for them to not see you as a threat.”
Braon’s eyebrow peaked. “When you are not good with a blade, invisibility is your greatest weapon.”
Trin started to laugh, a deep belly sound that shook his entire frame. “Kid, you would make a fine general.”
“If they ever let me be in command.”
For the first time since he had known the youth, Trin heard a statement that he recognized as a true insight into Braon’s personality.
“It’ll be their loss if they don’t,” he said. “Now are you going to move or not?”