The Sports Captain's Tale

Chapter Six

It was easier said than done.

We trained hard, of course. We went to the field every evening and played time and time again, testing ourselves against each other and the arena’s automatic defences. There was no way to test ourselves against other teams – Blair, damn him, had been making all sorts of promises and there was no one I could trust not to report our tactics straight to him – but we made progress. Slowly. I was starting to think the team really was coming together.

But it wouldn’t last past the next defeat.

And we would lose again, sooner or later. I knew it to be true. There’s no such thing as an ever-victorious team and the player who claims never to have lost a match or been on the losing side is either a liar or someone careful to ensure he only played against inferior competition. Blair, whatever else could be said about him, was testing himself against the best the school could offer. It made me wonder if the outside teams were doing the same. Probably. There weren’t many schools that couldn’t field at least four teams … if they had enough interested players. Just because I was obsessed with games didn’t mean everyone shared my obsession.

“You turned everything around, last game,” Jane said, as we sat and watched the next match. “Do you think you can do it again?”

I said nothing, my eyes following the players as they raced around the field. I was discomfited to note that one of the other teams had copied our tactic – really, it shouldn’t have surprised me. But then, it did require one or more players to stay in the rear while letting the others get the girls and the glory. Everyone wants to be the chap who scores the winning goal, not the chap who passes him the ball and certainly not the poor bastard sitting on the substitute bench when the goal is scored. I’d been lucky in that respect, if not in others. Mildred and the others who’d stayed at the back didn’t care much for glory.

“Of course,” I bragged. I didn’t really feel it, but half of being a team captain is pretending to be confident even when the score is so heavily slanted against you that you just know the referee is biased. It could be worse. I’d watched a team lose twenty to one and the ref had been on their side. It should have been at least thirty to one. “We’ll romp to victory once again.”

“The betting is in your favour,” Jane said. “That may change today, of course, but …”

I shrugged. The Grandmaster had laid down the law, in the aftermath of Juliet’s scandal, and forbidden team captains from placing bets on pain of expulsion. I wasn’t allowed to bet on myself and I certainly wasn’t allowed to bet on anyone else. There were probably some underground betting rings that had escaped his notice, but I knew nothing about them. Of course not. Besides, I didn’t have the money to gamble. Blair, damn him, had all the money in the world.

He doesn’t, I reminded myself. It just feels that way.

Jane leaned forward. She wore simple robes, but I knew what she looked like underneath … I bit off on that thought, hard. She was three years behind me and showing even the slightest hint of interest would get me in real trouble. Rules were rules, particularly when the staff were looking for ways to get rid of particularly troublesome students. I’d thrown everyone’s calculations for a loop when I’d formed a team and taken it onto the field, then won the second match. If Juliet had still been in charge, she would probably have come up with an excuse to bar us from the field.

“You came up with a new trick,” Jane pressed. “Are you going to rely on it again? Or are you going to come up with something new?”

“We’re going to run onto the field stark naked,” I said. There was no way I was going to tell her the truth. Jane wasn’t a bad sort, but she couldn’t keep secrets to save her life. Her father was worse. From what I’d heard, it was a minor miracle the muckraker was still alive. “The enemy teams will all be struck blind and we’ll romp to victory.”

Jane’s expression didn’t change, but I saw two red spots on her cheeks. “Are you sure they won’t keel over laughing, instead?”

“We’ll still win,” I said. I’d taken part in a game where tickling charms had been used to discomfit the other players. It was a shame it was the kind of trick that rarely worked more than once. Still … I made a mental note to consider it. Blair wouldn’t expect us to try and we might be able to sneak it through wards that would keep out nastier hexes and jinxes. “It doesn’t matter how we win, as long as we don’t break the rules.”

“We shall see,” Jane said. She gave me a wink that would have landed her in hot water in a more conservative kingdom. “I’m betting on you, for what it’s worth.”

She stood and walked off before I could come up with a response. It was a vote of confidence, I supposed, although I was nowhere near as confident of victory as I pretended. We’d played two games and only won one … sure, I could and did tell myself that Blair had rigged the first game against us – and he had – but we’d still lost. And we’d won the second game through outthinking the opponents … that trick, too, wouldn’t be as effective the second time around. Blair certainly wouldn’t let it work twice.

I leaned back in my seat and watched the players reach endgame. The team that had copied us was doing well, but they weren’t using the entanglement spells as effectively as we had. I guessed their spellcasters hadn’t wanted to stay in the rear. Or that someone had sneaked up on their base, once they realised what was happening, and taken the spellcasters out … a thought crossed my mind, a tactic that might just work …

“Hey,” a voice said. Blair. “What’s a pretty boy like you doing up here all alone?”

I tried not to tense as he stepped into view. I should have noticed him well before he spoke and the fact I hadn’t was … irritating. He’d spent plenty of time sneaking around the school, just like the rest of us, but still … I cursed under my breath, wishing I’d thought to bring Mark and James with me. Blair appeared to be alone, but that was meaningless. He could have brought his entire team under invisibility or obscurification spells.

“Enjoying the view,” I grunted, finally. Blair had probably come for the same reason as I had. “It just went downhill.”

Blair gave me a cross look. “Your bad taste is not my problem,” he said, as he seated himself next to me. “You’re not my type.”

I tried to hide my annoyance. “Are you trying to be funny? Because if you are, it isn’t working.”

He shrugged. I allowed myself a quick smirk. Blair could be funny, even charming, when he wanted to be. He had a disarming grin that made boys underestimate him and girls swoon …right up to the moment he put the knife in their backs. Mildred hadn’t told me how he’d managed to lure her into the alleyway, but I had my suspicions. I’d kept them to myself. I really didn’t want to know.

“I underestimated you,” Blair said, seriously. “I never thought you’d have a chance.”

I smirked, again. It was proof he was alone. He’d never have made that admission in front of his cronies, not when they might see it as a sign he wasn’t as confident as he pretended. And that meant …

“You convinced two other teams to gang up with you on us,” I pointed out, dryly. The best team in the big leagues would have trouble winning against such odds – and we’d lost so badly we’d become a laughingstock. “You took us very seriously indeed.”

Blair’s eyes narrowed, then he shrugged, conceding the point. More proof he was alone. He’d have argued for hours if he’d had an audience. “I thought we were doing you a favour by putting you out of the running so quickly,” he said. “You do realise you’re not going to get any sponsors for the big games? Can you afford even one banner to wave in front of your team?”

I felt a hot flash of anger. Blair had a point. Dad wasn’t going to sponsor us – I knew better than to ask – and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. I intended to cross that bridge when I came to it. The Grandmaster would probably give us some money, just to keep up appearances; there were others, Lady Emily or Queen Alassa, perhaps, who might be interested in sponsoring us. I’d played on Alassa’s team, when she’d been a student. She might just listen to my request without laughing in my face.

“That’s none of your business,” I said, finally. Let him think I was completely without options. “There’s no rule that says you need a sponsor.”

Blair smirked. It made me want to punch him. My fists clenched in anticipation. “But you’ll look like a bunch of commoners aping your betters.”

I stuck out my tongue. “You needed to outnumber us to win the first match and you lost the second,” I said. “I think we’re the better team.”

Blair’s face became ugly, just for a second. “You think your tricks will win in the big leagues?”

“It’s only stupid if it fails,” I said, quoting one of our old sergeants. “If we win, if it works, it’s smart.”

“No, you just got lucky,” Blair countered. “And that trick won’t work twice.”

I shrugged. “We’ll see,” I said. “Tell me, is there a reason you’re inflicting yourself on me? I’m sure there are places your company is merely unwelcome.”

“If only you were as witty as you think you are,” Blair said, crossly. “Kai, let’s be honest here. Your team is a joke. You won because you came up with something new and that trick won’t work twice. It really won’t.”

“So you said,” I reminded him. “Get to the point.”

Blair met my eyes. “We ally to wipe out the other teams, then fight it out,” he said. “If you win, you give me and two of my best players places on your team; if you lose, I give you a place on mine. You’ll go to the big leagues whatever happened.”

I blinked. He couldn’t have surprised me more if he’d conceded defeat without a fight. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Blair gave me an honest look. I wasn’t remotely impressed. Dad had taught me well. No honest man is ever quite so honest. “There’s no reason we have to be enemies. We can go onwards, together.”

I stared at him for a long moment. “You …”

“Me,” Blair said. “We must put aside our rivalry and think of the school’s best interests.”

“Oh,” I said. “We must, must we?”

I forced myself to think. On paper, his offer was workable even though it smacked of low cunning. The other two teams would never expect Blair and I to ally. We could take them both out and then … I scowled. If I trusted Blair, it would be a good offer. But I didn’t. I knew what had happened to his last set of allies. He’d let them take the brunt of the fighting and then wiped them out before they realised he’d positioned himself for the endgame. He had a point – the school would benefit from sending the best team it could muster to the big leagues – but … somehow, I had the feeling he was thinking more of his own advantage.

And I wouldn’t trust him to keep his word either, I thought, crossly. If he doesn’t offer me an oath …

Blair leaned forward. “I’m going to be Captain-General,” he said. “Do you not think I can make it worth your while?”

“There’s no guarantee you’ll take Juliet’s place,” I pointed out. There was certainly no guarantee Juliet’s successor would have the same freedoms she’d enjoyed, not after she’d abused them so blatantly. “And you don’t even know what powers you’ll have.”

My thoughts hardened. Blair was an aristo. Aristos rarely bothered to bargain with their social inferiors. They took what they wanted, leaving their inferiors to thank them for taking everything and leaving them with nothing. If Blair was trying to bargain, it suggested he wasn’t anything like as confident of victory as he claimed …

And besides, I wouldn’t trust him to keep his word. How could I?

“No,” I said. “I think not.”

Blair glared. “The others already approached you, didn’t they?”

I shrugged, noncommittally. No one had – how could they? The match below had yet to be won or lost. But Blair wouldn’t see it that way. Arrogant ass, he’d assume everyone else was the same way. And he knew I wouldn’t ally with him if I saw any other option …

“We’ll kick your asses,” he said, standing. “And afterwards, you’re done.”

He stalked away in a huff. The game came to an end. I noted the winners, briefly considering the idea of asking one or both of them for an alliance, then got up and strode away. The Grandmaster had ordered all four captains to assemble in the bunker after the match, once we knew who’d be playing in the final. I wondered, idly, if Blair would try to ally with one of them. They’d be fools to trust him, but the stakes were already dangerously high.

Mildred is the only one who doesn’t really care, I reflected. She’d come a long way in the past few weeks, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with winning or losing. She’d be happy as long as Blair lost his chance to go to the big leagues.

I put the thought out of my mind as I stepped into the bunker. Blair sat there, his face so blank I knew he was annoyed. Sarah and David stood by the water cooler, drinking water as if it was going out of fashion. Their faces and tunics were drenched in sweat. I knew why Blair was annoyed. They were both aristos, with powerful connections and enough money to buy everything I owned out of pocket change. Blair couldn’t bribe them into doing anything and he knew it. I wondered, mischievously, if they’d tried to bribe him.

The Grandmaster strode into the room and cleared his throat for attention. “It has been an interesting set of matches,” he said, with what I felt was commendable understatement. “You have all worked very hard, and performed well, and I feel confident in saying that whatever team goes to the big championship will represent the very best of the school, in everything from spellcasting to sportsmanship.”

Really? I wasn’t impressed. There’s little sporting in convincing three teams to gang up on one.

“Regardless of the outcome, I also feel confident in saying the best captain will win,” the Grandmaster continued. “BattleBorne requires more than just physical and magical skills to win. It requires a certain degree of cunning, and diplomacy, and team management. The best captains are not those who bark orders at their teams, but the ones who help their teams to develop, to expand their individual skills and work as a team. The skills the game helps you to develop are ones that are very important in other fields.”

He paused, dramatically. I tried not to look impatient. Something was coming and I didn’t think I was going to like it. The entire chamber felt as if it was hanging on tenterhooks.

“The question of precisely who will replace the last Captain-General has haunted us for the last two months,” the Grandmaster informed us, as if we didn’t already know. “Traditionally, the Captain-General would be called upon to nominate their replacement, but this is impossible. Juliet left her position in disgrace and, while no one else has been implicated in her scheme, we have been reluctant to make a hasty decision about her replacement. None of the possible candidates stand out, certainly not to the point their nomination is a foregone conclusion.”

I smiled. And Blair thought he was going to be nominated without a fight?

The Grandmaster liked the sound of his own voice, I decided. He certainly kept talking.

“The Captain-General must have demonstrated the skills to direct and manage teams,” the Grandmaster said. “He must also enjoy the confidence of the students, at least those who play sports, and demonstrated a willingness to put his personal feelings aside for the greater good. After much debate, it has been decided that, regardless of the outcome of the championship, that the winner of the coming match will have shown all the skills needed to be a successful Captain-General. One of the four of you” – his eyes moved from face to face, taking our measure – “will be Juliet’s successor.”

Blair gasped. “What …?”

“The winner of the coming match will be the next Captain-General,” the Grandmaster said. I thought I heard a hint of irritation in his tone. It would be a long time before he trusted any Captain-General as much as he’d trusted Juliet. I suspected that was probably why the Ken captains hadn’t been given a chance to take her place. “The winner will take up the role as soon as possible. The losers” – his eyes swept the room again – “will be expected to support the winner to the hilt. No one is impressed by sore losers.”

I grinned. I couldn’t help it.

There’ll be no alliances now, I thought, as the Grandmaster left the room. And Blair knows it too.