would have been a possible move, to place my Home Stone at Ubar's Builder One. If I had done so this would have permitted the diagonal move of the Spearman to his War's Initiate Ten, my Ubar's Initiate One, at which point it would doubtless have been promoted to a Rider of the High Tharlarion, thusly effecting capture of Home Stone. The defense of my Builder, on which I was relying, would in such a case have been negated by the placement of my own Home Stone, which would then have been inserted between it and the attacking piece. But, as it was, because of the Scribe's coverage of Ubar's Builder One, my move was forced. I could move only to, and must move to, Ubar's Initiate Two. It appeared I must lose my Builder. I eyes my Rider of the High Tharlarion at Ubar's Initiate Eight. I needed only a respite of one move to effect capture of Home Stone.
'Your Home Stone is under attack,' he reminded me.
'I am well aware of that,' I said.
'You have one and only one possible move,' he pointed out.
'I know,' I said. 'I know.'
'Perhaps you should make it,' he suggested.
'Very well,' I said. I moved my Home Stone to Ubar's Initiate Two. A Spearman who attains the rear rank of the enemy has the option of being promoted, if promotion is desired, to either a Tarnsman or a Rider of the High Tharlarion. The Tarnsman is generally regarded as the more valuable piece. Indeed, in many adjudication procedures the Tarnsman is valued at eight points and the Rider of the High Tharlarion at only two. I did not think he would directly advance his Spearman to Ubar's Builder Ten, even though it was now protected, the file opened behind it, by his Builder at Ubar's Builder One. I now began to suspect that the placement of his Builder on that file might not have been an accident, no more than the rather irritating placement of his Scribe at Ubara's Scribe Four. If he did advance it in that fashion, promoting it presumably to a Rider of the High Tharlarion, to bring the Home Stone under immediate attack, and prevent me from advancing my own Rider of the High Tharlarion to Ubar's Initiate Nine, finishing the game, I would take it with my Builder. He would then, of course, retake with his Builder. On the other hand, this exchange would sacrifice his advanced Spearman. I expected him rather, then, to take the Builder and then, with impunity, promote his Spearman to a Tarnsman at his Ubar's Scribe Ten, my Ubar's Scribe One. If he did this, however, it would give me the move I needed to effect capture of Home Stone, by advancing my Rider of the High Tharlarion to the coveted Ubar's Initiate Nine. I mopped my brow. He had miscalculated. The game was still mine!
'Spearman to Ubar's Initiate Ten,' he said, moving the Spearman neither to Ubar's Building Ten, nor to Ubar's Scribe Ten, taking the Builder. This placed it behind my Home Stone. 'Rider of the High Tharlarion,' he said, replacing the Spearman now with the appropriate piece. 'Threat to Home Stone,' he then said.
'I can take it with my Builder,' I said.
'Indeed,' he said, 'you must do so. You have no other move.'
I swept my Builder to my left, capturing the new Rider of the High Tharlarion at my Ubar's Initiate One. His career, it seemed, had been a brief one. There was no way he could, in this situation, recapture. It seemed he had done nothing more than deliver his new Rider of the High Tharlarion promptly, and for nothing, into my prison pit. I could not move the Home Stone to either Ubar's Builder One, Two or Three because of the coverage of these squares, all of them being covered by his Builder at his Ubar's Builder One, and Ubar's Builder One being additionally covered by his Scribe, that posted at Ubara's Scribe Four.
'Builder to Ubar's Builder Nine,' he said.
I regarded the board.
'Capture of Home Stone,' he said.
'Yes,' I said.
My Home Stone had been maneuvered to Ubar's Initiate Two. There he had used my own men to trap it and hold it helplessly in position. Then he had swept down the opened file with his Builder, to Ubar's Builder Nine, to effect its capture.
'Every one of your moved was forced,' he said. 'You never had an alternative.'
'True,' I said.
'An elementary Ubara sacrifice,' he remarked.
'Elementary?' I asked.
'Of course,' he said.
'I did not see it,' I said, 'at least until it was too late.'
'I gathered that,' he said. 'Otherwise you might have resigned several moves ago, thereby perhaps saving yourself a bit of embarrassment.'
'I thought I was winning,' I said.
'I think you were under a grave misapprehension as to just who was attacking,' he said.
'Apparently,' I said.
'Undoubtedly,' he agreed, unnecessarily, in my opinion.
'Are you sure the Ubara sacrifice was 'elementary, ' I asked.
'Yes,' he said.
'I thought it was brilliant,' I said.
'Those such as you,' he said, 'particularly when they find themselves their victims, commonly salute as brilliancies even the most obvious trivialities.'
'I see,' I said.
'Do not be despondent,' he said. 'Among those who cannot play the game, you play very well.'
'Thank you,' I said.
'You're welcome,' he said. 'Would you care to play again?'
'No,' I said. 'Not now.'
'Very well,' he said. He began to put the pieces back in a large leather wallet.
'Would you care to wrestle?' I asked.
'No,' he said, pleasantly enough.
'That Ubara sacrifice was not really all that bad, was it?' I asked.
'No,' he said, 'it was actually not all that bad. In fact, it was rather good.'
'I thought so,' I said.
I watched the player replacing the pieces in the leather wallet. He was in a good mood. Just as I had thought, that Ubara sacrifice had not been all that straightforward, or elementary. That, at least, gave me some satisfaction. This moment, it then seemed to me, might be a good time to speak to him. I had been wanting to speak to him for several days. I had been awaiting only a judicious opportunity, one in which the topic might seem to be broached naturally, in such a way as to avoid arousing his curiosity or suspicion. He drew the strings on the wallet, closing it. Yes, this seemed like an excellent time to take action. I would arrange the whole business in such a way that it would seem quite natural. It would be easy. Yes, I thought, I could manage this quite nicely.
'I wish that I had recorded the game,' I said.
'I can reiterate the moves for you, if you wish,' he said.
'From memory?' I asked.
'Of course,' he said. 'It is not difficult.'
I drew forth from my wallet some papers and a marking stick. Among some of these papers, which I would apparently use as a backing surface for the sheet on which I intended to record the moves, were the papers I had taken, long ago, from the Lady Yanina near the fair of En'Kara.
'Ah,' said the player. 'I see.'
'What?' I asked.
'Am I not, now, supposed to say, 'What have you there? or is that to come later?'
'I do not understand,' I said.
'We must have played a hundred games,' he said. 'Never before have you seemed interested in recording one. Now you seem interested. Why, I wonder. Now you draw forth papers from your wallet. Some of these are papers obviously covered with the notation of Kaissa. Am I not to express curiosity? And are you not then, almost inadvertently, to ask me some question, or questions, in which you are interested?'
'Perhaps,' I said, hesitantly.
'Are you really interested in the game?' he asked.
'I am interested in it, as a matter of fact,' I said, 'but, to be sure, as you seem to have detected, it is
