Assassin of Gor

20 — A GAME IS PLAYED

"This," cried Cernus, lifting his cup aloft, "is a night for rejoicing and amusement!"

Never had I seen the customarily impassive Slaver so elated as on this night, following the sales in the Curulean. The feast was set late in the hall of Cernus and the wine and paga flowed freely. The girls chained at the wall for the amusement of his guards clutched drunkenly, ecstatically, at those who used them. Guards stumbled about with goblets in their hands. The Warriors of Cernus sang at the tables. Roasted tarsks on long spits were borne to the tables on the shoulders of nude slave girls. Girls still in training, unclothed as well, served wine this night of feasting. Musicians wildly, drunkenly, picked and pounded at their instruments.

Hooded, stripped to the waist, chained, I had been beaten from one end of the room to the other with sticks.

Now, unhooded, but chained, I knelt bloody before the dais of Cernus.

A few feet from me, wretched, dazed, chained like I before the dais of our master, knelt Elizabeth Cardwell, her only garment the chain of Cernus, with its medallion of the tarn and slave chains, about her throat.

To one side, to my dismay, I saw Relius and Ho-Sorl chained. Near them, kneeling, her wrists and ankles bound with slender, silken ropes, knelt Sura, head forward, her hair touching the floor.

The doll which she had so loved, which she had had from her mother, which she had attacked me with the slave goad at the kill point, lay on the tiles before her, torn asunder, destroyed.

"What is their crime?" I had asked Cernus.

"They would have freed you," laughed Cernus. "The men we apprehended after severe fighting, trying to cut their way to you when you lay in the dungeon. The woman tried, with paga and jewels, to bribe the guards."

I shook my head. I could not understand why Relius and Ho-Sorl would make my cause theirs, nor why Sura, though I knew she cared for me, would so risk her life, now doubtless lost. I had done little to deserve such friends, such loyalty. I felt now in my plight that I had betrayed not only Elizabeth, and the other girls, and the Priest-Kings, but perhaps allies even unknown to me, among them perhaps Relius, Ho-Sorl, Sura, others. How overcome I felt, with fury, with rage, with helplessness. I looked across to Elizabeth, the chain of Cernus looped about her neck, staring numbly, woodenly, down at the tiles of the hall, half in shock.

I had failed them all.

"Bring Portus!" called Cernus.

The Slaver who had been chief competitor to the House of Cernus was brought forward, doubtless from the dungeons of the Central Cylinder of Ar, on order of its Ubar, Cernus, once of the Merchants, now of the Caste of the Warriors.

Portus, half wasted now, his skin hanging about his frame, was brought, manacled, stripped to the waist, to the square of sand.

His manacles were removed and a naked hook knife was thrust in his trembling hand.

"Please oh mighty Cernus!" he whined. "Show mercy!"

The slave whom I had originally seen victorious in the sport of hook knife sprang to the sand and began to stalk Portus.

"Please, Cernus!" cried Portus as a long line of blood burst open across his chest. "Please! Please! Caste Brother!" he cried, as the slave, swift, eager, laughing, struck him again and again, with impunity. Then Portus tried to fight but, weakened, unskilled, clumsy, he stumbled about, being again and again streaked with blood, no cut mortal. At last he fell into the sand covered with blood at the feet of the laughing slave, quivering, whining, unable to move.

"Feed him to the beast," said Cernus.

Whimpering, Portus was dragged from the sand, leaving blood across the tiles, and was taken from the hall.

"Bring the Hinrabian!" called Cernus.

I was startled. The entire Hinrabian family, in caravan, had been ambushed, months ago, shortly after leaving the vicinity of Ar enroute to the desert city of Tor. It was assumed the entire family had been destroyed. The only body not recovered had been that of Claudia Tentia Hinrabia, who had been originally the unfortunate victim of the intrigues of Cernus, the means whereby was brought about the downfall of the house of Portus.

I heard, far off, a weird scream, that of Portus, and a wild, savage cry, almost of roar.

Those in the hall trembled.

"The beast has been fed," said Cernus, chuckling, drinking wine, spilling some of it down his face.

A slave girl was brought, a slim girl, in yellow Pleasure Silk, with short black hair, dark eyes, high cheekbones.

She ran timidly and knelt before the dais.

I gasped, for it was Claudia Tentia Hinrabia, once the spoiled daughter of a Ubar of Ar, now a rightless wench in bondage, not unlike thousands of others in Glorious Ar.

She looked about herself, with wonder. I doubted that she had been before in that room.

"You are the slave girl Claudia?" asked Cernus.

"Yes, Master," said the girl.

"Do you know what city you are in?" asked Cernus.

"No, Master," whispered the girl. "I was brought hooded to your house."

"By what men?" inquired Cernus.

"I do not know, Master," whispered the girl.

"It is said you claim to be Claudia Tentia Hinrabia," said Cernus.

The girl lifted her head wildly. "It is true!" she cried. "It is true, Master!"

"I know," said Cernus.

She looked at him in horror.

"What city is this?" she asked.

"Ar," said Cernus.

"Ar?" she gasped.

"Yes," said Cernus, "Glorious Ar."

Hope sprang in her eyes. She almost rose to her feet. There were tears in her eyes. "Ar!" she cried. "Oh free me! Free me!" She lifted her hands to Cernus. "I am of Ar! I am of Ar! I am Claudia Tentia Hinrabia of Ar! Free me, Master!"

"Do you know me?" asked Cernus.

"No, Master," said the girl.

"I am Cernus," said he, "Ubar of Ar."

She gazed upon him, thunderstruck. "Noble Cernus," she whispered, "if you be my Master, free me, free me!"

"Why?" asked Cernus.

"I am Claudia Tentia Hinrabia," she said, "of Ar!"

"You are a slave girl," said Cernus.

She looked at him in horror. "Please, Ubar," she wept. "Please noble Cernus, Ubar of my city, free me!"

"Your father owed me monies," said Cernus. "You will remain my slave."

"Please!" she wept.

"You are alone," said Cernus. "Your family is gone. There is no one to protect you. You will remain my slave."

She buried her head in her hands, weeping. "I have been in misery," she wept, "since I was stolen by the men of the house of Portus and enslaved."

Cernus laughed.

The girl looked at him, not understanding.

"How could the men of Portus enter the Central Cylinder and carry you away?" he inquired.

"I do not know," she admitted.

"You were hooded and abducted by Taurentians," said Cernus, "the palace guard itself."

She gasped.

"Saphronicus, their Captain," said Cernus, "is in my hire."

She shook her head numbly.

"But the House of Portus-," she said. "I saw the collar on a slave girl-."

Cernus laughed.

He strode from the dais to stand over her.

"Stand, Slave," said he.

The Hinrabian did so.

She regarded him with horror. He parted the Pleasure Silk and threw it from her.

He then took the heavy chain with its medallion from the neck of Elizabeth Cardwell and placed it about the throat of the Hinrabian girl.

"No! No!" she cried, throwing her hands to the side of her head, and fell screaming and weeping to her knees at the feet of Cernus.

He laughed.

She raised her horror-stricken eyes to him. "It was you!" she whispered. "You!"

"Of course," said Cernus. He then took back from her his medallion and chain, and placed it about his own neck. He then returned to his place on the dais.

The room roared with laughter.

"Bind her arms and wrists tightly," said Cernus to a guard.

This was done to the Hinrabian girl, who, stricken with horror, seemed scarcely able to move.

"We have another surprise for you, my dear Claudia," said Cernus.

She looked at him blankly.

"Bring the pot wench," said Cernus to a subordinate and the man, grinning, sped from the room.

"Claudia Tentia Hinrabia," said Cernus to those assembled, while he quaffed yet another goblet of Ka-la-na, "is well known throughout Ar as a most strict and demanding mistress. It is said that once, when a slave dropped a mirror, she had the poor girl's ears and nose cut off, and then sold the then worthless wench."

There were shouts of commendation from the men at the tables.

Claudia was held on her knees by two guards, her arms and wrists tied tightly behind her. Her face began to turn white.

"I searched long in the kitchens of Ar until I found that wench," said Cernus.

I recalled that in his kitchen, seemingly months ago, though only a handful of days past, I had seen a mutilated girl.

"And purchased her," said Cernus.

There was a shout of pleasure from the tables.

Claudia Tentia Hinrabia, in her bonds, seemed frozen, horror-stricken, unable to move.

A girl came in from the kitchens, followed by the man who had gone to fetch her. It was the girl to whom I had, some days ago, on the evening of my capture, tossed a bottle of paga. Her ears had been cut from her, and her nose. She might otherwise have been beautiful.

When the girl entered the room Claudia was turned by her guards, still on her knees, bound, to face her.

The girl stopped stunned. Claudia's eyes regarded her, wide with horror.

"What is your name?" asked Cernus of the girl kindly.

"Melanie," said she, not taking her eyes from the Hinrabian, startled, astonished that she should so find her former mistress.

"Melanie," said Cernus, "do you know this slave?"

"She is Claudia Tentia Hinrabia," whispered the girl.

"Do you remember her?" asked Cernus.

"Yes," said the girl. "She was my mistress."

"Give her a hook knife," said Cernus to one of the men near him.

A hook knife was pressed into the hands of the mutilated girl.

She looked at the knife, and then at the bound Hinrabian, who shook her head slightly, tears in her eyes.

"Please, Melanie," whispered the Hinrabian, "do not hurt me."

The girl said nothing to her, but only looked again from the hook knife to the bound Hinrabian.

"You may," said Cernus, "remove the ears and nose of the slave."

"Please, Melanie!" cried the Hinrabian. "Do not hurt me! Do not hurt me!"

The girl approached her with the knife.

"You loved me," whispered the Hinrabian. "You loved me!"

"I hate you," said the girl.

She took Claudia's hair in her left hand and held the razor-sharp hook knife at her face. The Hinrabian burst into tears, hysterically weeping, begging for mercy.

But the pot girl did not touch the knife to the Hinrabian's face. Rather, to the wonderment of all, she let her hand drop.

"Cut off her ears and nose," ordered Cernus.

The girl looked on the helpless Hinrabian. "Do not fear," she said, "I would not injure a poor slave."

The girl threw the hook knife from her and it slid across the tiles.

Claudia Tentia Hinrabia collapsed weeping at the feet of the guards.

Cernus rose behind the table on the dais.

I heard someone ask, "Was she of High Caste?"

"I was the daughter of a Cloth Worker," said Melanie.

Cernus was furious. "Take them both away," he said. "In ten days, bloody them and bind them back to back, and feed them to the beast."

Slave bracelets were snapped on the wrists of Melanie and she and her weeping, stumbling former mistress, the helpless, bound Claudia Tentia Hinrabian, were conducted from the hall.

Cernus sat down, angry. "Do not be disappointed," he cried. "There is more sport!"

There were some tentative grunts about the table, some attempt to muster enthusiasm.

"Noble girl!" I called after Melanie, as she left the room.

She turned and smiled, and then, with Claudia Tentia Hinrabia, and their guard, left the room.

A Warrior in the hire of Cernus struck me across the mouth.

I laughed.

"Since I am Ubar of Ar," said Cernus to me, "and of the Caste of Warriors-."

There was mirth at the tables, but a look from Cernus silenced it in a moment.

"I am concerned," continued Cernus, "to be fair in all matters and thus propose that we wager for your freedom."

I looked up in surprise.

"Bring the board and pieces," said Cernus. Philemon left the room. Cernus looked down at me and grinned. "As I recall, you said that you did not play."

I nodded.

"On the other hand," said Cernus, "I of course do not believe you."

"I play," I admitted.

Cernus chuckled. "Would you like to play for your freedom?"

"Of course," I said.

"I am quite skillful, you know," said Cernus.

I said nothing. I had gathered in the months in the house, from what I had seen and heard, that Cernus was indeed a fine player. He would not be easy to beat.

"But," said Cernus, smiling, "since you are scarcely likely to be as skilled as I, I feel that it is only fair that you be represented by a champion, who can play for you and give you some opportunity for victory."

"I will play for myself," I said.

"I do not think that would be just," said Cernus.

"I see," I said. I then understood that Cernus would appoint my champion. The game would be a meaningless charade.

"Perhaps a slave who scarcely knows the moves of the pieces," I suggested, "might play for me-if such would not be too potent an adversary for you?"

Cernus looked at me with surprise. Then he grinned. "Perhaps," he said.

Sura, bound, lifted her head.

"Would you dare to contend with a mere slave girl," I asked, "one who has learned the game but a day or two ago, who has played but an Ahn or so?"

"Whom do you mean?" inquired Cernus.

"He means me, Master," said Sura, humbly, and then dropped her head.

I held my breath.

"Women do not play the game," said Cernus irritably. "Slaves do not play!"

Sura said nothing.

Cernus rose from the table and went to stand before Sura. He picked up the remains of the small doll which lay torn before her and tore them more. The old cloth broke apart. He ground the bits of the doll into the tile with the hell of his sandal.

I saw tears from the eyes of Sura fall to the tiles. Her shoulders shook.

"Have you dared to learn the game, Slave?" inquired Cernus, angry.

"Forgive me, Master," said Sura, not raising her head.

Cernus turned to me. "Pick a more worthy champion, fool," said he.

I shrugged. "I choose Sura," I said. Cernus would surely have no way of knowing that Sura possessed perhaps one of the most astounding native aptitudes for the game that I had ever encountered. Almost from the beginning she had begun to play at the very level of Players themselves. Her capacity, raw and brilliant, was simply a phenomenon, one of those rare and happy girls one sometimes discovers, to one's delight or dismay, and she had caused me much of both. "I choose Sura," I said.

The men about the tables laughed.

Cernus then, for no reason I understood clearly, struck Sura with the back of his hand, hurling her to the tiles.

I heard one of the men near me whisper to another. "Where is Ho-Tu?"

I myself had been curious about that.

The other whispered in return. "Ho-Tu has been sent to Tor to buy slaves."

The first laughed.

I myself thought it was perhaps well that Cernus, doubtless by design, had sent Ho-Tu from the house. Surely I would not have expected the powerful Ho-Tu to stand by while Sura, whom he loved, was so treated, even by the Master of the House of Cernus. With hook knife in hand against a dozen blades, Ho-Tu would probably have rushed upon Cernus. I was, as I suggested, just as well satisfied that Ho-Tu was not now in the house. It would be one less to die. I wondered if Cernus would have him slain on his return. If Sura were permitted to live I supposed Ho-Tu, too, would live, if only to be with her, to try to protect her as he could.

"I will not play with a woman!" snarled Cernus and turned away from Sura. She looked at me, helpless, stricken. I smiled at her. But my heart had sunk. My last hope seemed now dashed.

Cernus was now again at the table. In the meantime Philemon had brought the board and arranged the pieces. "It does not matter," said Cernus to me, "for I have already arranged your champion."

"I see," I said, "and who is to be my champion?"

Cernus roared with laughter. "Hup the Fool!" he cried.

The tables roared with laughter, and the men pounded with their fists on the wood so pleased were they.

At this point, from the main entryway to the hall, there entered two men, shoved by guards. One retained a certain dignity, though he held his hands before him. He wore the robes of a Player. The other rolled and somersaulted onto the tiles and bounded skipping to his feet, to the amusement of those at table. Even the slave girls clapped their hands with amusement, crying out with pleasure.

Hup was now backing around ogling the slave girls, and then he fell over on his back, tripped by a Warrior. He sprang to his feet and began to leap up and down making noises like a scolding urt. The girls laughed, and so, too, did the men.

The other man who had entered with Hup was, to my astonishment, the blind Player whom I had encountered so long ago in the street outside the Paga tavern near the great gate of Ar, who had beaten so brilliantly the Vintner in what had been apparently, until then, an uneven and fraudulent game, one the Player had clearly intended to deliver to his opponent, he who had, upon hearing that I wore the black of the Assassins, refused, though poor, to accept the piece of gold he had so fairly and marvelously won. I thought it strange that that man should have been found with Hup, only a fool, Hup whose bulbous misshapen head reached scarcely to the belt of a true man, Hup of the bandy legs and swollen body, the broken, knobby hands, Hup the Fool.

I saw Sura regarding Hup with a kind of horror, looking on him with loathing. She seemed to tremble with revulsion. I wondered at her response.

"Qualius the Player," called Cernus, "you are once again in the House of Cernus, who is now Ubar of Ar."

"I am honored," said the blind Player dryly. "I beat you once."

"It was a mistake, was it not?" asked Cernus humorously.

"Indeed," said Qualius. "For having bested you I was blinded in your torture rooms and branded."

"Thus, in the end," said Cernus, amused, "it was I who bested you."

"Indeed it was," said Qualius, "Ubar."

Cernus laughed.

"How is it," inquired Cernus, "that my men, sent for Hup the Fool, find you with him?"

"I share the fool's lodging," said Qualius. "There are few doors open to a destitute Player."

Cernus laughed. "Players and fools," said he, "have much in common."

"It is true," said Qualius.

We turned to look at Hup. He was now sneaking about the tables. He took a sip from one of the goblets and narrowly missed an amused, swinging blow aimed at him by the man whose goblet it was. Hup ran scampering away and crouched down making faces at the man, who laughed at him. Then Hup, with great apparent stealth, returned to the table and darted under it. On the other side his head suddenly appeared, then disappeared. Again he came under the table, and this time his hand darted out and back, and he began to chew on his prize, a peel of larma fruit snatched from a plate, discarded as garbage. He was grinning and cooing to himself while chewing on the peel.

"Behold your champion," said Cernus.

I would not reply to him.

"Why not slay me and be done with it?" I asked.

"Have you no faith in your champion?" asked Cernus. Then he threw back his head and laughed. The others, too, in the room laughed. Even Hup, his eyes watering, sat on his rump on the tiles and pounded his knees, seeing others laugh. When the others ceased to laugh, so, too, did he, and looked about, whimpering, giggling.

"Since you have a champion," said Cernus, "I thought it only fair that I, too have a champion."

I looked at him, puzzled.

"Behold my champion," said Cernus, "who will play for me." He expansively lifted his hand toward the entryway. All turned to look.

There were cries of astonishment.

Through the entryway, rather angrily, strode a young man, perhaps no more than eighteen or nineteen years of age, with piercing eyes and incredibly striking features; he wore the garb of the Player, but his garb was rich and the squares of the finest red and yellow silk; the game bag over his left shoulder was of superb verrskin; his sandals were tied with strings of gold; startingly, this young man, seeming like a god in the splendor of his boyhood, was lame, and as he strode angrily forward, his right leg dragged across the tiles; seldom had I seen a face more handsome, more striking, yet rich with irritation, with contempt, a face more betokening the brilliance of a mind like a Gorean blade.

He stood before the table of Cernus and though Cernus was Ubar of his city he merely lifted his hand in common Gorean greeting, palm inward. "Tal," said he.

"Tal," responded Cernus, seeming somehow in awe before this mere boy.

"Why have I been brought here?" asked the young man.

I studied the face of the young man. There was something subtly familiar about it. I felt almost as though I must have seen him before. I felt it was a face I somehow knew, and yet could not know.

I happened to glance at Sura and was startled to see her. She could not take her eyes from the boy. It was as though she, like myself, somehow recognized him.

"You have been brought here to play a game," said Cernus.

"I do not understand," said the boy.

"You will play as my champion," said Cernus.

The boy looked at him curiously.

"If you win," said Cernus, "you will be given a hundred gold pieces."

"I will win," said the boy.

There had been nothing bold in his tone of voice, only perhaps impatience.

He looked about himself, and saw Qualius, the blind Player. "The game will be an interesting one," said the boy.

"Qualius of Ar," said Cernus, "is not to be your opponent."

"Oh?" inquired the boy.

Hup was rolling in a corner of the room, rolling to the wall, then back, then rolling to it again.

The boy looked at him in revulsion.

"Your opponent," said Cernus, pointing to the small fool rolling in the corner, "is he."

Fury contorted the features of the boy. "I will not play," he said. He turned with a swirl of his cloak but found his way barred by two guards with spears. "Ubar!" cried the boy.

"You will play Hup the Fool," laughed Cernus.

"It is an insult to me," said the boy, "and to the game. I will not play!"

Hup began to croon to himself in the corner, now rocking back and forth on his haunches.

"If you do not play," Cernus said, not pleasantly, "you will not leave this house alive."

The young man shook with fury.

"What is the meaning of this?" he inquired.

"I am giving this prisoner an opportunity to live," said Cernus, indicating me. "If his champion wins, he will live; if his champion loses, he will die."

"I have never played to lose," said the young man, "never."

"I know," said Cernus.

The young man looked at me. "His blood," he said to Cernus, "is on your hands, not mine."

Cernus laughed. "Then you will play?"

"I will play," said the young man.

Cernus leaned back and grinned.

"But let Qualius play for him," said the young man.

Qualius, who apparently knew the voice of the young man, said, "You need have no fear, Ubar, I am not his equal."

I wondered who the young man might be if Qualius, whom I knew to be a superb player, did not even speak as though he might force a draw with him.

Again I glanced at Sura, and was again startled at the intentness, almost the wonder, with which she regarded the incredibly handsome, lame boy who stood before us. I racked my brain, trying to understand something which seemed somehow but a moment from comprehension, something elusive, hauntingly near and yet undisclosed.

"No," said Cernus. "The Fool is your opponent."

"Let us be done with this farce," said the boy. "Further, let no word of this shame be spoken outside this house."

Cernus grinned.

Philemon indicated the board, and the young man went to it and took a chair, Cernus' own, surrendered eagerly by him, at the table. The boy turned the board irritably about, taking red. Philemon turned the board back, that he might have yellow, and the first move, permitting him to choose his opening.

The young man looked about him with disgust, but did not protest.

"To the table, fool," cried Cernus to Hup.

Hup, as though shocked, leaped to his feet, turned a somersault, and bounded unevenly to the table, where he put his chin on the boards, trying to nibble at a piece of bread lying there.

Those in the room laughed, with the exception of Relius, Ho-Sorl, the young boy, and myself, and Sura. Sura was still looking at the boy. There were tears in her eyes. I tried to place the boy, his features.

"Would you not care," asked Cernus of the boy, "to inform the prisoner of your name?"

The handsome boy looked down from the chair of Cernus on me. His lips parted irritably. "I am Scormus of Ar," he said.

I closed my eyes and began to shake with laughter, seeing the joke on myself. And the others, too, those with Cernus, laughed, until the room roared with their mirth.

My champion was Hup, a Fool, that of Cernus was the brilliant, fiery, competitive Scormus of Ar, the young, phenomenal Scormus, who played first board of the city of Ar and held the highest bridge in the city as the province of his game, the master not only of the Players of Ar but doubtless of Gor as well; four times he had won the cap of gold at the Sardar Fairs; never had he entered a tournament he had not won; there was no Player on Gor who did not acknowledge him his master; the records of his games were hungered for throughout all the cities of Gor; his strategy was marked with a native and powerful subtlety, a profundity and brilliance that had made him, even in his youth, a legend in the harsh cities of Gor; it was little wonder that even Cernus himself stood in awe of this imperious youth.

Suddenly Sura cried out. "It is he!"

And in that instant the recognition came to me so suddenly and powerfully that the room seemed black for a moment and I could not breathe.

Scormus looked irritably from the board at Sura, kneeling bound on the tiles.

"Is your slave mad?" he asked of Cernus.

"Of course he is Scormus of Ar, Foolish Slave," cried Cernus to Sura. "Now be silent!"

Her eyes were glistening with tears. She put down her head and was weeping, shaking with emotion.

I, too, trembled.

And then it seemed to me that Cernus might have miscalculated.

I saw Hup waddle over to Sura and put his bulbous head to hers. Some of those at the table laughed. Sura did not draw back from that fearful, grotesque, countenance that faced her. Then, to the wonder of all, Hup, the misshapen, misformed dwarf and fool, gently, ever so gently, kissed Sura on the forehead. Her eyes were wet with tears. Her shoulders were shaking. She smiled, crying, and put down her head.

"What is going on?" demanded Cernus.

Then Hup gave a wild yip and turned a backward somersault and bounded suddenly, squealing like an urt, after a naked slave girl, one of those who had served the tables. She screamed and fled and Hup stopped and turned around several times rapidly in the center of the room until, dizzy, he fell down on his seat and wept.

Scormus of Ar spoke. "Let us play."

"Play, Fool!" cried Cernus to Hup.

The little fool bounded to the table. "Play! Play! Play!" he whimpered. "Hup plays!"

The dwarf seized a piece and shoved it.

"It is not your move!" cried Cernus. "Yellow moves first."

Irritably, with genuine disdain and fury, Scormus thrust out a tarnsman.

Hup picked up a red piece and studied it with great care. "Pretty, pretty wood," he giggled.

"Does the fool know the moves of the pieces?" inquired Scormus acidly.

Some of those at the table laughed, but Cernus did not laugh.

"Pretty, pretty," crooned Hup. Then he put the piece down on the intersection of four squares, upside down.

"No," said Philemon, irritably, "on the color, like this!"

Hup's attention was now drawn to the side of the table where there was a sugared pastry, which he began to eye hungrily.

Scormus of Ar, I was pleased to note, regarding the board, suddenly eyed Hup warily. Then the boy shrugged and shook his head, and moved another piece.

"Your move," prompted Philemon.

Without looking at the board Hup poked a piece, I think a Ubar's Scribe, with one of his swollen fingers. "Hup hungry," he whined.

One of Cernus' guards threw Hup the pastry he had been eying and Hup squealed with pleasure and sat on the dais, putting his chin on his knees, shoving the pastry in his mouth.

I looked at Sura. Her eyes were radiant. She saw me and through her tears, smiled. I smiled back at her. She looked down at the remains of the doll on the tiles before her and threw back her head and laughed. In her bonds she threw back her head and laughed.

She had a son. His name, of course, was Scormus of Ar, her son by the dwarf Hup, conceived years ago in the revels of Kajuralia. I now, clearly, recognized the boy, though I had not seen him before. His features were those of Sura, though with the heaviness of the masculine countenance, the bred slave lines of the House of Cernus. Cernus himself had not recognized them; perhaps none in the room had; the lame foot was perhaps the legacy of his misshapen father; but the boy was fine, and he was brilliant; he was the marvelous Scormus, youthful master Player of Ar.

I looked at Sura and there were tears in my eyes, with my happiness for her.

Hup had kissed her. He had known. Could he then be the fool he pretended? And Scormus of Ar, the brilliant, the natively brilliant master Player was the offspring of these two. I had sensed the marvelous raw power of Sura, her amazing, almost intuitive grasp of the game; and I wondered of Hup, who could be the father of so brilliant a boy as Scormus of Ar; perhaps Hup, the Fool, was no stranger to the game; I looked to one side and saw Qualius of Ar, the blind Player; unnoticed, he was smiling.

After Hup's second move Scormus of Ar had looked for a long time at the board, and then at Hup, who was devouring his pastry.

Cernus seemed impatient. Philemon suggested three or four counters to the position now on the board.

"It is impossible," said Scormus, more to himself than another. Then he shrugged and pushed his third piece.

Hup was still eating his pastry.

"Move!" cried Cernus.

Hup leaped dutifully up and, crumbs on his mouth, seized a yellow piece and shoved it sideways.

"No," said Cernus, intensely, "you move red pieces."

Hup obediently started shoving the red pieces about the board.

"One at a time!" screamed Cernus.

Hup cringed and, lifting his head timidly over the board, pushed a piece and darted away.

"His moves are random moves," said Philemon to Scormus.

Scormus was looking at the board. "Perhaps," he said.

Philemon snorted with amusement.

Scormus then made his fourth move.

Hup, who was waddling about the walls, was then summoned again to the board and he hastily picked up a piece and dropped tottering to a square, and went back to the walls.

"His moves are random," said Philemon. "Develop your tarnsmen. When he places his Home Stone you will be able to seize it in five moves."

Scormus of Ar regarded Philemon. His look was withering. "Do you tell Scormus of Ar how to play the game?" he inquired.

"No," said Philemon.

"Then be silent," said Scormus.

Philemon looked as though he might choose to reply, but thought the better of it, and glared angrily at the board.

"Observe," said Scormus to Cernus, as he moved another piece.

Hup, singing some mad little song of his own devising bounded back to the table, turned a somersault, and crawled up on the dais, whence he seized another piece in his small, knobby fist and pushed it one square ahead.

"I will give you two hundred pieces of gold if you can finish the game in ten moves," said Cernus.

"My Ubar jests," said Scormus of Ar, studying the board.

"I do not understand," said Cernus.

"I should have known my Ubar would not have perpetrated the farce he pretended," said Scormus, not raising his eyes from the board. He smiled. "It is seldom that Scormus of Ar is so fooled. You are to be congratulated, Ubar. This joke will bear telling in Ar for a thousand years."

"I do not understand," said Cernus.

"Surely you recognize," asked Scormus, curiously, looking up at him, "the Two Spearman variation of the Ubar's Scribe's Defense, developed by Miles of Cos and first used in the tournament at Tor held during the Second Passage Hand of the third year of the Administrator Heraklites?"

Neither Cernus nor Philemon said anything. The tables were silent.

"The man I am playing," said Scormus of Ar, "is obviously a master."

I cried out with joy, as did Sura, and Relius and Ho-Sorl. We, the four of us, cheered.

"It is impossible!" cried Cernus.

Hup, the Fool, blinked, sitting on the tiles before the dais.

Scormus of Ar was studying the board intently.

"Hup, my friend," said the blind player Qualius, "can play with Priest-Kings."

"Beat him!" cried Cernus.

"Be quiet," said Scormus. "I am playing."

There was little sound in the room save the occasional noises of Hup. The game continued. Scormus would study the board and move a piece. Hup would come from somewhere in the hall, rolling, skipping or bounding, sniffing, gurgling, glance at the board, cry out, and poke a piece about. And then Scormus would again, head in hands, face not moving, study the board once more.

At last, after perhaps no more than half an Ahn, Scormus stood up. His face was hard to read. There was something in it of irritation, but also of bafflement, and of respect. He stood stiffly, and, to the wonder of all, extended his hand to Hup.

"What are you doing?" cried Cernus.

"I am grateful to you for the game," said Scormus.

The two men, the young, fiery Scormus of Ar, and the tiny, misshapen dwarf shook hands.

"I do not understand," said Cernus.

"Your departure from the Two Spearman Variation on the sixteenth move was acute," said Scormus to Hup, paying the Ubar of Ar no attention. "Only too late did I realize its position in your plan, the feint of the four-piece combination covering your transposition into the Hogar Variation of the Centian, striking down the file of the Ubara's Scribe. It was brilliant."

Hup inclined his head.

"I do not understand," said Cernus.

"I have lost," said Scormus.

Cernus looked at the board. He was sweating. His hand trembled.

"Impossible!" he cried. "You have a winning position!"

Scormus' hand tipped his Ubar, resigning the game.

Cernus seized the piece and righted it. "The game is not done!" he cried. He seized Scormus by the cloak. "Are you a traitor to your Ubar?" he screamed.

"No, Ubar," said Scormus, puzzled.

Cernus released Scormus. The Ubar trembled with fury. He studied the board. Philemon did, too. Hup was looking away from the table, scratching his nose.

"Play!" cried Cernus to Scormus. "You position is a winning one!"

Scormus looked at him, puzzled. "It is capture of Home Stone," said he, "in twenty-two."

"Impossible," whispered Cernus, trembling, staring at the small pieces of wood, the intricate pattern, the field of red and yellow squares.

"With your permission, Ubar," said Scormus of Ar, "I shall withdraw."

"Be gone!" cried Cernus, regarding the board.

"Perhaps we shall play again," said Cernus to Hup, inclining his head to the dwarf.

Hup began to dance on one foot, turning about.

Scormus then went to Qualius, the blind player. "I leave," he said. "I wish you well, Qualius of Ar."

"I wish you well, Scormus of Ar," said Qualius, the blind, branded face radiant.

Scormus turned and regarded Hup. The little fellow was sitting on the edge of the dais, swinging his feet. When he saw Scormus regarding him, however, he stood up, as straight as he could with his crooked back and one short leg; he struggled to stand straight, and it must have caused him pain.

"I wish you well, Small Master," said Scormus.

Hup could not reply but he stood there before the dais, as straight as he could, with tears in his eyes.

"I shall play out your position and win!" screamed Cernus.

"What will you do?" asked Scormus, puzzled.

Cernus angrily moved a piece. "Ubar's tarnsman to Ubara's Scribe four!"

Scormus smiled. "That is capture of Home Stone in eleven," he said.

As Scormus, his path uncontested, took his way from the room, he stopped before Sura, who lowered her head, shamed that she should be so seen before him. He regarded her for a moment, as though puzzled, and then turned and faced Cernus once again. "A lovely slave," he commented.

Cernus, studying the board, did not respond to him.

Scormus turned and, limping, left the room.

I saw that Hup now stood close to Sura, and once again, gently, he kissed her on the forehead.

"Little Fool!" cried Cernus. "I have moved Ubar's tarnsman to Ubara's Scribe Four! What will you do now?"

Hup returned to the table and, scarcely glancing at the board, picked up a piece and dropped it on a square.

"Ubar's tarnsman to Ubara's tarnsman six," said Cernus, puzzled.

"What is the point of that?" asked Philemon.

"There is no point," said Cernus. "He is a fool, only a fool."

I counted the moves, eleven of them, and, on the eleventh, Cernus cried out with rage and dashed the board and its pieces from the table. Hup, as though puzzled, was waddling about the room scratching his nose, singing a silly little ditty to himself. In one small hand he held clutched a tiny piece of yellow wood, the Home Stone of Cernus.

I gave a cry of joy as did Relius and Ho-Sorl. Sura, too, was radiant.

"I am now free," I informed Cernus.

He looked at me in rage.

"You will be free tomorrow," he screamed, "to die in the Stadium of Blades!"

I threw back my head and laughed. Die now I might, but the vengeance of the moment was sweet. I had known, of course, that Cernus would never free me, but it had given me great pleasure to see his charade of honor unmasked, to have seen him humiliated and publicly exposed as a traitor to his word.

Relius and Ho-Sorl were laughing as, chained, they were taken from the room.

Cernus looked down on Elizabeth, chained at the foot of the dais. He was in fury. "Deliver this wench to the compound of Samos of Port Kar!" he screamed.

Guards leaped to do his bidding.

I could not stop myself laughing, though I was much beaten, and laughing I still was when, chained, I was conducted stumbling from the hall of Cernus, the noble Ubar of Ar.