The Sports Captain's Tale

Chapter Seven

“Blair came to me last night,” Jerry whispered, as we changed into our tunics for the big match. “Offered me shitloads of money if I fucked you – and not in a fun way. Said he’d give me the world if I put a hex in your back.”

“The world isn’t his to give,” I said, refusing to reveal how nervous Jerry’s words made me. Blair could offer a lot and there was no way I could match it. “You said no?”

“Demanded the world in advance,” Jerry said. “Blair called me all sorts of names.”

He turned away. I allowed myself a moment of relief. The last week had been hectic. Everyone was training, everyone was placing bets, everyone was arguing over who would win and what it meant for the rest of the sporty students … I’d even heard of duels being fought over the likely outcome of the final match. Blair had to be doing everything in his power to undermine his rivals, including me. Jerry, thank all the gods, hadn’t wanted to take Blair’s money. I hoped the others felt the same way.

I took a long breath and made my way down to the bunker. Blair’s team marched past – seriously; they marched like an army regiment on its way to the war –uniforms perfect and their faces grim. They knew what was at stake, just like the rest of us. If they won, they got to go to the big leagues … perhaps. Blair would have his pick of the players, without any obligation to keep the ones he already had. I wondered, numbly, if I should have been making overtures to some of his players, particularly the weaker ones. But I had nothing I could use to bribe them …

Sergeant Wills stood at the front of the chamber and waited for David and Sarah – and their teams – to join us. There was not a single hint of cooperation in the air. The team captains looked as if they were keeping their faces under tight control, while their players weren’t even trying to hide their feelings. One of Sarah’s players had been replaced on short notice, after he’d eaten something that disagreed with him. It had officially been ruled an accident, but no one I knew agreed with the verdict. He’d been poisoned and the poisoner had gotten away with it. Probably.

“You know what is at stake,” Sergeant Wills said. “The winner of this match will go on to the big championship games. The winning captain will become the next Captain-General. I suggest” – his tone made it clear it was an order – “that you remember two things. First, certain advantages you have here will not be present in the championship games and relying on them to win this match will cost you during the championship. Second, if you demonstrate good sportsmanship, you will find it much easier to gain respect if you win the prize. The days in which a Captain-General had complete, and unquestioned, authority are over. If you twist the rules to your advantage, you’ll be seen as a cheat even if what you do isn’t technically cheating. You will find it much harder to assert authority over the other sporty students.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. I kept my face expressionless. He had a point. The tactics I planned to use probably wouldn’t work in the championship. And we might be seen as cheats … I shrugged. It didn’t matter who won, as long as Blair was swept off the field. I glanced at him and smiled. He shot me a look that suggested he’d be throwing punches if the sergeant wasn’t right in front of him.

“Go to your bases,” the sergeant ordered. “When the bell rings … may the best team win.”

I stood and led my team out of the bunker, feeling eyes boring into my back. Sarah and David hadn’t tried to bribe me – or anyone else, as far as I knew – but they wouldn’t assume I was a silly captain in charge of a team of incompetent halfwits. They knew to take us seriously now. I briefly considered a plan that would have allowed us to get ahead without coming across as a real threat, only to dismiss it as a concept so foolish it didn’t work on paper, let alone the real world. Too many things could and would go wrong for the plan to be even remotely workable.

“You know what to do,” I said, once we were in the base. I’d done my best to reason out what the other teams would do, in response to our victory. Blair would find it hard to keep half his team in the rear – I didn’t know if it was true of Sarah and David, though I suspected it was – and that meant they’d counter by attacking our base at once. It was what I’d do if I thought my opponents were using entanglement charms. “Are you ready?”

I allowed my eyes to drift from face to face. Jerry, Mark and James looked eager. Bill and Karen looked a little more worried. Mildred seemed unconcerned … I suspected she was reluctant to invest too much heart in the game, or anything else. I grinned at them, wishing I could put my feelings into words. No one had bet on us, when we’d started. Everyone had assumed we were going to lose very badly. But now … we had a chance. They’d remember us even if we lost our final match.

“Mildred,” I said. “Are the spells ready?”

“Yeah.” Mildred looked nervous. “I don’t know if they’ll fool anyone …”

“They just have to last long enough for us to get into position,” I said, as I started to run through the first set of anti-tracking spells. Blair would expect us to stay in position … I just hoped he didn’t have time to torture us as well as take us out. “And then we can blindside him.”

The bell rang. “We need to move. Now.”

I led the way outside, cold damp air slapping me in the face. It had rained last night and the ground was even muddier than usual, to the point half the field might have turned into a bog. I glanced around quickly, then led the way east. It was risky – if we accidentally crossed the line, or got blown over it, it would count as us leaving the field – but it would give us our best chance of setting up spells ahead of time. I’d sooner have done it in the base, but the others would attack our base as quickly as possible. They’d have no choice.

But that does raise the issue of trapping us, I reflected, wryly. Does it count as pinning us down if we can use entanglement spells to work magic outside the fort?

I put the thought aside as Mildred performed the summoning spell. There was a long pause – for a terrible moment, I thought the plan was going to fail before it had even begun – then a handful of foxes darted out of the undergrowth and charged towards us. Karen snapped out a compulsion charm, holding them in place as Mildred went on to the next part of the plan. It wasn’t hard to control animals, save for creatures of magic. They tended to attack anyone who tried to control them.

“Poor creatures,” Karen muttered. “They’re really quite cute.”

Mildred looked pale as she finished the spell. The four foxes morphed into copies of four of us. They didn’t have our intelligence, and the moment the control spell snapped their animal mentalities would take over, but they did have our handsome faces. It struck me, suddenly, that Mildred was actually very cute. Her body might not be as enticing as Samra’s or as toned as Darrell’s, but … I put the thought aside for later contemplation. Right now, it was a distraction, the last thing I needed.

“Add the blood,” Mildred ordered. “Hurry!”

I did as I was told, adding a tiny droplet of my blood to the spell as the transfigured foxes quivered in terror. It was hard not to feel guilty, even though I hadn’t been able to work out any other way to pull the trick off. I’d have felt less bothered about improving Blair’s looks remarkably by turning him into a duplicate of me. It wasn’t against the rules, and students had done far worse to animal subjects over the years, but … I promised myself I’d make sure the foxes were well-rewarded for their service. It was the very least we could do.

James caught my eye. “They’re coming.”

I nodded. I could hear them. A team was heading straight towards our base, moving so quickly it was clear they didn’t give a damn about stealth. I nodded to Mildred, who took over the compulsion spell and directed the foxes back to the base. James, Mark and Karen joined them, readying their magic. I felt another pang of guilt. They’d volunteered for the job – it had to look convincing – but still …

The entanglement spells buzzed around me. My mind slid through the connection as our faux team returned to the base. The whole experience was weirdly disconcerting, as though I was underwater … I wasn’t sure if it was because my mind was too close to the transfigured foxes or if it was just a side effect of the entanglement spell. It felt almost like flying on a pitchfork, only worse … as if the pitchfork was under someone else’s control. I’d met a witch from Laughter who’d taken me on a ride, before I’d taken her for a ride on my broomstick.

Sarah’s team exploded out of the foliage and crashed into our base, throwing spells through the arrow slits as though there was no tomorrow. They’d come up with their own tricks, part of my mind noted, as our faked team attacked. The magical grenades they’d devised froze everyone caught within the field, taking them out before they could react. It would have worked too – I made a note to steal the trick myself – if we’d been in the fort. Instead, we pitched into their side and counterattacked. Sarah’s team would have lost, in that instant, if we’d all been there.

Shit, I thought. Sarah was no fool. Would she notice we weren’t fighting as intensely as we should? What if …?

Sarah’s face went blank. Someone had hit her with a compulsion spell, right in the back. I knew who it was even before Blair’s face appeared in front of me, casting spell after spell. The fighting turned into a melee, a fight I couldn’t have followed even if my mind wasn’t having problems coping with the entanglement spells. Someone hexed me – the fox – and I tumbled to the ground. I could have freed the beast, but I wanted them to think they’d taken me out. My awareness glided away, leaving me with the impression of Blair calling his charmed slaves to him. I felt a stab of pity. Poor Sarah. A first-year being hexed with such a spell and forced to recite doggerel or kiss the caster’s feet or something was bad enough, but she was a fifth-year …

He won’t molest her, I told myself. But she’ll be all too aware he could.

My awareness fell back into my body, as if I’d awoken from a dream. The world was too bright … I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stand. Blair and the others would think he’d wiped us out to the very last man, unless he thought to check the bodies … I hoped he wouldn’t, not when he had David coming up behind him. He’d want to believe it too, I told myself. He certainly wouldn’t want to do anything that would throw his good fortune into doubt.

I glanced at Mildred as the sound of fighting died away. “How long will the spells last?”

“At least an hour,” Mildred whispered. The silence was worse than the noise. “Unless they start prodding at them …”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “Let’s go. Quietly.”

I glanced at the survivors – Jerry, Bill and Mildred – then led the way along the boundary line. It was risky to stay so close, for all the reasons I mentioned earlier, but the rest of the teams probably wouldn’t want to come looking for us. Probably. If you crossed the line, you were out. No arguments would be accepted. We moved in absolute silence, not daring to say a word, as we made our way to Blair’s base. I was entirely sure he would come out ahead, even against David. His charmed slaves would draw his fire long enough for Blair’s team to get the advantage and overwhelm him, then release his teammates and return to his base. It was the only way he could declare victory …

He needs as many of his teammates free as possible, I reminded myself. Sarah might pick up a few more points – perhaps. It depended on how the scores were calculated, after the match. David certainly would, unless he got very unlucky. I didn’t think it would make any difference, but you never knew. Blair had enough enemies looking for a way to embarrass him that it would be wise to cover all the bases. If they insist he was beaten on points … they might just steal his victory from him.

Jerry put his lips close to mine. “Hell of a gamble,” he whispered. “What if David wins?”

I shrugged. I’d thought about it and that was all I could do. There were no guarantees Blair would win the coming fight, but … I was betting on him. David wasn’t a bad captain – and I rather liked him – yet when it came to being an asshole Blair had the edge. He wouldn’t have gotten so far if he wasn’t capable of thinking outside the box …

“We wait and see,” I said, finally. “Now … you know what to do.”

I braced myself as Blair’s base came into view. It was identical to ours, surrounded by wards that should – should – have kept us out. Mildred went to work, weakening the wards enough to let us slip into the base itself. It wasn’t cheating, not in a legal sense, but it was unheard of. No one bothered to break into a base when laying siege to it was quite enough. I laid a handful of warning charms around the edge of the clearing, listening carefully as the sound of fighting echoed over the field. Someone shouted … I had no idea who. Blair and David were going to war …

“Done,” Mildred said. “Get inside.”

I stepped through the gap in the wards and into the base. The interior was as bland and boring as ours. I was almost disappointed. Sneaking into bedrooms and offices was an old school tradition – I’d done it myself – but there’d always been some kind of reward, even if it was just bragging rights. Here … I was surprised he hadn’t tried to smuggle in alcohol or something else that bent the rules to the breaking point. I would have expected it from him.

“Against the wall,” I hissed, casting an invisibility charm. “When they enter and close the door, hit them as planned.”

I leaned against the wall and waited, feeling the seconds ticking away like hours. Blair thought he’d won. Or David … if David had come out ahead. Whoever it was, he certainly thought he’d taken out my entire team; he knew he had to return to his base to declare victory. Or … had the trick failed? The plan had seemed so clever and cunning – if cruel – when I’d put it together, but … would it survive contact with the enemy? I knew, now, why the sergeants had warned us so often that war was a democracy. The enemy got a vote – and his vote could easily undo ours. If I’d misjudged the situation …

The wards crackled in warning. I braced myself. Blair was returning, convinced he’d won … he had to be. If he knew we were still unaccounted for, he’d be searching for us. He’d have no choice. We might win by default if we ran out the clock. The wards crackled again as the door opened, Blair’s team swaggering into the chamber as if they’d won. And they thought they had …

I raised my hands the moment they closed the door and cast the spell. It was a weak spell that rarely worked against even slight resistance, but they thought they’d won. Blair’s eyes went wide, a moment before he morphed into a toad. The others cast their spells at the same time, wiping out Blair’s entire team. They’d never expected to be ambushed in their own base … I laughed, despite myself, as the toads croaked in outrage. We were going to earn so many points we might win even if they – somehow – turned the tables.

It was a moment that called for supreme dignity, for honour and respect to our defeated opponents after we’d won. It was a moment that demanded I take my victory with good grace …

“Fuck you,” I said, cheerfully. “Who’s laughing now? We won.”

And we had.