“If they leave, the game will continue without them,” Caldenia said. “Five minutes away from the game could put everything at risk. Victory demands sacrifices.”
“I suppose being a fish does offer some advantages in this situation,” Karat said.
“But that advantage is offset by not having hands,” I told her. “Oond has to explain what he wants done instead of simply doing it.”
“He doesn’t seem to be suffering,” Karat said.
The holographic representation of the planet above the table was tinted with six different shades, representing the six territories controlled by the players. Oond’s orange territory spread over his continent, infringing on Bestata’s right side.
“The game is unfair,” Dagorkun pointed out. He had returned to his seat after half an hour. Some sort of internal struggle must have taken place and Dagorkun must’ve resolved it and settled on a course of action, because he seemed relaxed and well at ease, as if the incident with Karat had never taken place.
Caldenia gave him an outraged look. “In what way?” she demanded.
“Amphie is from the Dominion, where this game is a national sport. She has years of practice,” Dagorkun said.
“Well, those years were clearly wasted,” Caldenia said. “She’s made the one mistake she couldn’t afford. It is a basic rule of any galactic warfare. Never get into a land war with a vampire. Especially during the Feudal period.”
Karat chuckled.
The war between Bestata and Amphie had raged for almost two hours. The vampire knight had built several fortified castle cities, leaving a small gap by one of her major rivers. It offered a straight shot to her mountain range and the limestone caves within. The caves were a source of saltpeter, potassium nitrate, the primary component of early gunpowder. Amphie failed to find any in her part of the map, so she had amassed a horde of horse archers and invaded.
Bestata beat a retreat, drawing Amphie’s army deep into her territory, and then her fortified cities vomited armored knights who plowed into Amphie’s horse archers, ripping through them like they were paper. Bestata destroyed her opponent’s supply chain and a third of Amphie’s army died of starvation.
Now the war had shifted into Amphie’s territory, and Bestata had taken three of her cities and was laying siege to another two.
“Honestly,” Caldenia sneered. “I had expected a better showing.”
“Do you play, Your Grace?” Dagorkun asked.
“I was the Grand Champion of both the Dominion and the Supremacy for thirty years.”
“Was that because of your skill or your reputation?” Karat asked.
The two of them were playing with fire.
Her Grace gave them her best predatory smile. “Any time the two of you would like to find out, you know where to find me.”
She hadn’t played Progress since she had arrived at the inn. The reminder of everything she had left behind must’ve been too painful.
A pulse of gold light rolled through Grand Prelate Oond’s territory. His Magnanimousness had completed yet another ziggurat, to the delight of his worshipers.
“The Gaheas is throwing the game,” Caldenia noted.
At some point during the match and probably without knowing, Nycati had decided to follow ancient China’s approach to fortifications. He had built two massive walls connecting his mountain ranges, and then he sat on his steppe, breeding horses, building palaces, and developing poetry, music, arts, and medicine. He traded with Lady Wexyn, whose caravans by now reached every corner of the planet, and fought off two attempted invasions by Prysen Ol, but he showed no sign of expanding.
“His civilization seems to be doing well,” I murmured. “His approval rating is high.”
“The isolationist policy never works long term. One must interact with other cultures to progress, otherwise, they will surpass you. As a man of his lineage, he knows this. He had two chances to invade on favorable terms, and he deliberately ignored both.”
A man of his lineage, huh? I leaned closer to her. “When did you know?”
Caldenia shrugged. “Immediately. It’s blindingly obvious. Their attempt at secrecy was earnest and would’ve worked, except that I have eyes and a brain.”
A warning chime sounded through the arena. Fifteen minutes left.
My earpiece came to life with Sean’s voice. “Kosandion says that no matter what happens next, we should let it play out.”
What did that mean? Nothing good, that’s what that meant. “Remind him that we are responsible for the safety of our guests.”
“I did. He says he takes full responsibility. He has cleared it with the Innkeeper Assembly.”
And when, exactly, had he had a chance to do that? “It doesn’t matter what he cleared. This is our inn.”
“It’s a matter of the Dominion security and his safety.”
“And you’re going along with this?”
“If something happens to him, we lose the inn. I will secure him. Whatever happens between the candidates is fair game.”
I would have liked to argue, but I had let Kosandion fight Surkar with a knife despite all of my better judgement.
Caldenia leaned toward me, her voice discreet. “What’s happening?”
“Your nephew is anticipating something, and he doesn’t want us to interfere.”
“About time,” Caldenia said. “I was beginning to worry we’d miss the show.”
A loud bell tolled through the arena. The game was over. The five candidates stepped away from the table and retreated to use the various facilities. Oond’s humanoid helper stood up, bowed to him, and exited the stage. Oond rolled his high-tech fishbowl to the section of his delegation, where he was greeted by an enthusiastic fin display.
“You’re looking a bit pale for a human,” Karat said. “Here, eat some cookies. It’s about to get exciting.”
“No, thank you.”
I didn’t want cookies. I wanted peace and quiet and the orderly elimination of three additional candidates without any show or excitement.
“The scores have been tallied,” Gaston announced, his microphone-amplified voice carrying through the stands. “Candidates, please take your places.”
It took them five minutes to get there, and I could barely sit still from all the anxiety. The six candidates lined up. Nycati in a plain white outfit, Bestata in her black armor, Oond in a gorgeous veil of his orange fins, Prysen Ol in his trademark blue robe, Lady Wexyn in a translucent sage green kaftan style dress with a forest of golden accessories sprouting from her hair, and Amphie in a silver gown. They faced Kosandion, who sat upon his throne with all the dignity of a man who ruled an interstellar nation.
Three would go, three would stay. Almost there.
“In sixth place, finishing with the lowest score,” Gaston said, “is…Nycati of Gaheas.”
Nycati’s rankings appeared on the screens. His people were happy and well fed, and his population numbers were robust, but his tech score lagged behind other contestants. His military, although numerous, was armed with outdated weapons, and his culture was too homogenous. His nation had stagnated.
When Nycati played chess with Kosandion, he had built up his resources and then he attacked, unleashing a chain of assaults and planting traps all over the chess board. By the time Kosandion repelled one attack, the next one already would be in progress. Caldenia was right. The secret prince deliberately lost the game.
“Another hundred years, and he would be conquered,” Dagorkun murmured.
“Or not,” Karat said. “As long as one has a strong foundation, the nation won’t fall.”