Beasts of Gor (15 page)

We saw, on the great board, the placement not of the Ubara’s Spearman at Ubara five, but of the Ubar’s Spearman at Ubar five.

It was now subject to capture by yellow’s Ubara’s Spearman.

There was a stunned silence in the crowd.

“Would he play the Center Defense against one such as Scormus?” asked a man.

That seemed incredible. A child could crush the Center Defense. Its weaknesses had been well understood for centuries.

The purpose of the Center Defense is to draw the yellow Spearman front the center. Yellow, of course, may ignore the attack, and simply thrust deeper into red territory. On the other hand, yellow commonly strikes obliquely, capturing the red spearman. Red then recaptures with his Ubar. Unfortunately for red, however, the Ubar, a quite valuable piece, rated at nine points, like the Ubara, has been too early centralized. Yellow simply advances the Ubara’s Rider of the High Thalarion. This exposes the advanced Ubar to the immediate attack of the Initiate at Initiate one. The Ubar must then retreat, losing time. Yellow’s Initiate, of course, has now been developed. The move by the capturing yellow spearman, too, of course, has already, besides capturing the red spearman, developed the yellow Ubara.

The Center Defense is certainly not to be generally recommended.

Still, Centius of Cos was playing it.

I found this intriguing. Sometimes masters develop new variations of old, neglected openings. Old mines are sometimes not deficient in concealed gold. At the least the opponent is less likely to be familiar with these supposedly obsolete, refutable beginnings. Their occasional employment, incidentally, freshens the game. Too often master-level Kaissa becomes overly routine, almost automatic, particularly in the first twenty moves. This is the result, of course, pf the incredible amount of analysis to which the openings have been subjected. Some games, in a sense, do not begin until the twentieth move.

I looked at the great board.

Scormus, as I would have expected, captured the red spearman.

Some of the most brilliant games on record, incidentally, have been spun forth from openings now often regarded as weak or anachronistic.

The Center Defense seemed an implausible candidate however from which to project a brilliancy, unless perhaps the brilliancy might involve some swift and devastating exploitation of red’s temerity by yellow.

Still Centius of Cos seemed prepared to meet Scormus with the Center Defense.

The crowd was quite restless.

But Centius of Cos did not play to retake with the Ubar.

The crowd watched, stunned.

Centius of Cos had moved his Ubar’s Tarnsman’s Spearman to Ubar’s Tarnsman four.

It was undefended.

The Center Defense was not being played. Men looked at one another. Centius of Cos had already lost a piece, a spearman. One does not give pieces to a Scormus of Ar.

Most masters, down a spearman to Scormus of Ar, would tip their Ubar.

But another spearman now stood en prise, vulnerably subject to capture by the threatening, advancing spearman of yellow.

“Spearman takes Spearman,” said a man next to me. I, too, could see the great board.

Red was now two spearmen down.

Red would now advance his Ubar’s Rider of the High Tharlarion, to develop his Ubar’s Initiate and, simultaneously, expose the yellow spearman to the Initiate’s attack.

“No! No!” cried a merchant of Cos.

Instead Centius of Cos had advanced his Ubar’s Scribe’s Spearman to Ubar’s Scribe three.

Another piece now stood helplessly en prise.

I grew cold with fury, though I stood to win a hundred golden tarns.

Scormus of Ar looked upon Centius of Cos with contempt He looked, too, to the scorers and judges. They looked away, not meeting his eyes. The party of Cos left the stage.

I wondered how much gold Centius of Cos had taken that he would so betray Kaissa and the island of his birth. He could have done what he did more subtly, a delicate, pretended miscalculation somewhere between the fortieth and fiftieth move, a pretended misjudgment so subtle that even members of the caste of players would never be certain whether or not it was deliberate, but he had not chosen to do so. He had chosen to make his treachery to the game and Cos explicit.

Scormus of Ar rose to his feet and went to the table of the scorers and judges. They conversed with him, angrily. Scormus then went to the party of Ar. One of them, a captain. went to the scorers and judges. I saw Reginald of Ti, high judge, shaking his head.

“They are asking for the award of the game,” said the man next to me.

“Yes,” I said. I did not blame Scormus of Ar for not wishing to participate in this farce.

Centius of Cos sat still, unperturbed, looking at the board. He set the clocks on their side, that the sand would not be draining from the clock of Scormus.

The party of Ar, and Scormus, I gathered, had lost their petition to the judges.

Scormus returned to his place.

Reginald of Ti, high judge, righted the docks. The hand of Scormus moved.

“Spearman takes Spearman,” said the man next to me. Centius of Cos had now lost three spearmen.

He must now, at last, take the advancing yellow spearman, so deep in his territory, with his Ubar’s Rider of the High Tharlarion. If he did not take with the Rider of the High Tharlarion at this point it, too, would be lost.

Centius of Cos moved his Ubara to Ubar’s Scribe four. Did he not know his Rider of the High Tharlarion was en prise!

Was he a child who had never played Kaissa? Did he not know how the pieces moved?

No, the explanation was much more simple. He had chosen to make his treachery to Kaissa and the island of Cos explicit. I thought perhaps he was insane. Did he not know the nature of the men of Gor?

“Kill Centius of Cos!” I heard cry. “Kill him! Kill him!”

Guardsmen at the stage’s edge, with shields, buffeted back a man who, with drawn knife, had tried to climb to the level where sat the table of the game.

Centius of Cos seemed not to notice the man who had been struck back from the edge of the stage. He seemed not to note the angry cries from the crowd, the menace, of its gathering rage. I saw many men rising to their feet. Several raised their fists.

“I call for a cancellation of all wagers!” cried a man from Cos. He had, I assumed, bet upon the champion of Cos. It would indeed be a sorry way in which to lose one’s money. Several men had bet fortunes on the match. There were few in the audience who had not put something on one or the other of the two players.

But among the angriest of the crowd, interestingly, were hot-headed men of Ar itself. They felt they would be cheated of the victory were it so fraudulently surrendered to them.

I wondered who had bought the honor of Centius of Cos, to whom he had sold his integrity.

“Kill Centius of Cos!” I heard.

I did not think my hundred tarns were in danger, for it would be madness on the part of the odds merchants to repudiate the documented bargainings they had arranged. I did think, however, that I would not much relish my winnings.

Guardsmen, with spear butts and cruel shield rims, forced back two more men from the stage’s edge.

Scormus of Ar moved a piece.

“Spearman takes Rider of the High Tharlarion,” said the man next to me, bitterly.

I saw this on the great board. Yellow’s pieces, as they are arranged, begin from their placements at the lower edge of the great board, red’s pieces from their placement at its upper edge.

Centius of Cos had now lost four pieces, without a single retaliatory or compensating capture. He was four pieces down, three spearmen and a Rider of the High Tharlarion. His minor pieces on the Ubar’s side had almost been wiped out. I noted, however, that he had not lost a major piece. The response of Centius of Cos to the loss of his Rider of the High Tharlarion was to retake with his Ubar’s Initiate.

There was a sigh of satisfaction, of relief from the crowd. Centius of Cos had at least seen this elementary move. There were derisive comments in the audience, commending this bit of expertise on his part.

This move, of course, developed the Ubar’s Initiate. J also noted, as I had not noted before, that red’s Ubar’s Scribe was developed. This was the result of the earlier advance of red’s Ubar’s Tarnsman’s Spearman. The Ubara, of course, as I have mentioned, had been developed to Ubar’s Scribe four. The Ubar, too, I suddenly realized, stood on an open file. I suddenly realized that red had developed four major pieces.

Scormus, on his sixth move, advanced his Ubar’s Spearman to Ubar four. Ubar five would have been impractical because at that point the spearman would have been subjected to the attack of red’s Ubara and Ubar. Scormus now had a spear-man again in the center. He would support this spearman, consolidate the center and then begin a massive attack on red’s weakened Ubar’s side. Scormus would place his Home Stone, of course, on the Ubara’s side, probably at Builder one. This would free his Ubar’s side’s pieces for the attack on red’s Ubar’s side.

Centius of Cos then, on his sixth move, placed his Ubar at Ubar four. This seemed too short a thrust for an attack. It did, however, place his Ubar on the same rank with the Ubara, where they might defend one another. The move seemed a bit timid to me. Too, it seemed excessively defensive. I supposed, however, in playing with a Scormus of Ar, one could not be blamed for undertaking careful defensive measures.

On his seventh move Scormus advanced his Ubar’s Tarnsman’s Spearman to Ubar’s Tarnsman five. At this point it was protected by the spearman at Ubar four, and could soon, in league with other pieces, begin the inexorable attack down the file of the Ubar’s Tarnsman.

Scormus of Ar was mounting his attack with care. It would be exact and relentless.

I suddenly realized that yellow had not yet placed his Home Stone.

The oddity in the game now struck me.

No major piece had yet been moved by yellow, not an Initiate, nor a Builder, nor a Scribe, nor a Tarnsman, nor the Ubar nor Ubara. Each of these major pieces remained in its original location. Not one piece had yet been moved by yellow from the row of the Home Stone.

I began to sweat.

I watched the great board. It was as I had feared. On his seventh move Centius of Cos advanced his Rider of the High Tharlarion to Ubara’s Builder three. This would prepare for Builder to Builder two, and, on the third move, for placement of Home Stone at Builder one.

The crowd was suddenly quiet. They, too, realized what I had just realized.

Anxiously we studied the board.

If Scormus wished to place his Home Stone at either Ubar’s Builder one or Ubara’s Builder one, it would take three moves to do so. It would also take three moves if he wished to place it at Ubar’s Initiate one, or at Ubara’s Scribe one, Ubara’s Builder one or Ubara’s Initiate one. He could place the Home Stone, of course, in two moves, if he would place it at Ubar’s Tarnsman one, or Ubar’s Scribe one, or Ubar one, or Ubara one, or Ubara’s Tarnsman one. But these placements permitted within two moves left the Home Stone too centralized, too exposed and vulnerable. They were not wise Placements.

Already, though he had red. Centius of Cos was moving to place his Home Stone.

Now, on his eighth move, Scormus of Ar angrily advanced his Rider of the High Tharlarion to Builder three. His attack must be momentarily postponed.

On his own eighth move Centius of Cos advanced his Ubara’s Builder to Builder two, to clear Builder one for placement of Home Stone.

On his ninth move Scormus of Ar, following suit, advanced his Ubara’s Builder to Builder two, to open Builder one for the positioning of the Home Stone on the tenth move.

We watched the great board.

Centius of Cos placed his Home Stone at his Ubara’s Builder one. He had done this on his ninth move. It needed not be done before the tenth move. His tenth move was now free, to spend as he would.

Scormus of Ar, on his tenth move, inexplicably to many in the crowd, though he possessed yellow, a move behind, placed his Home Stone at Builder one.

The two Home stones, at their respective locations, faced one another, each shielded by its several defending pieces, Scribe and Initiate, one of the central spearmen, a flanking spearman, a Builder, a Physician, and a Rider of the High Tharlarion.

Scormus might now renew his attack.

“No,” I cried suddenly. “No, look!”

I rose to my feet. There were tears in my eyes. “Look!” I wept. “Look!”

The man next to me saw it, too, and then another, and another.

Men of Cos seized one another, embracing. Even men of Ar cried out with joy.

Red’s Ubar’s Initiate controlled the Ubar’s Initiate’s Diagonal; the red Ubara controlled the Ubar’s Physician’s Diagonal; the red Ubar controlled the Ubar’s Builder’s Diagonal; the Ubar’s Scribe controlled the Ubar’s Scribe’s Diagonal. Red controlled not one but four adjacent diagonals, unobstructed diagonals, each bearing on the citadel of yellow’s Home Stone; the red Ubara threatened the Ubara’s Scribe’s Spearman at Ubara’s Scribe two; the Initiate threatened the Ubara’s Builder at Builder two, positioned directly before yellow’s Home Stone; the Ubar threatened the Rider of the High Tharlarion at Builder three; the Scribe threatened the Ubara’s Flanking Spearman at Ubara’s Initiate three. I had never seen such power amassed so subtly in Kaissa. The attack, of course, was not on the Ubar’s side but on the side of the Ubara, where Scormus had placed his Home Stone. Moves which had appeared to weaken red’s position had served actually to produce an incredible lead in development; moves which had appeared meaningless or defensive had actually been deeply insidious; the timorous feint to the Ubar’s side by red with the Ubara and Ubar had, in actuality, prepared a trap in which Scormus had little choice but to place his Home Stone.