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〃This ought to work；〃 he said。 〃Perhaps you could oblige me by lying down？〃
C h a p t e r
F I V E
Ryld sipped his chilled； tart wine with a sense of satisfaction； secure in the knowledge that the game； though technically still in progress； was already won。 In three more moves； his onyx wizard and orc would trap and mate his opponent's carnelian mother。
As usual； he had acplished his victory without recourse to the dice。 Truth to tell； those clattering ivory cubes with the magically warmed images incised on the faces were the one aspect of suva he didn't like。 They interjected blind luck into what should be a contest of pure cunning。
Ryld's adversary； a scrawny young merchant clansman with an uncouth habit of letting drops of liquor slide from the corners of his mouth as he guzzled； had thrown the dice early on and gloated when chance allowed him to eliminate one of the older male's priestesses。
Shoulders hunched； brow sweaty； he stared at the board as if the fate of his soul were being decided thereupon。 A truly petent player would have recognized almost instantly that there was only one move he could make。 Indeed； he would have foreseen the inevitable mate just three moves hence and resigned。
Mindful of his true purpose for visiting the Jewel Box； Ryld； doing his best to sound only casually interested； took up the thread of the conversanottion that he and the slightly tipsy trader had been carrying on in fits and starts。
〃Did your cousin give you any warning that he was going to run away？〃
〃No；〃 the clansman answered curtly。 〃Why would he？ We despised each other。 Now shut up！ You're trying to break my concentration。〃
Ryld sighed and settled back in his spindly； flimsy…looking limestone chair。 From the corner of his eye he glimpsed something that made him sit up straighter； double…check the precise position of Splitter leaning against the wall； and stealthily loosen his short sword in its oiled sheath on his belt。
He himself didn't quite know what had alerted him。 These weren't the first circle of revelers he'd watched rise from their seats and draw their weapons； either to play at fencing or to settle a quarrel that had nothing at all to do with the hooded male defeating all ers at sava。 Indeed； within the confines of the Jewel Box； blades rasped from their scabbards with a certain regularity。 Superficially； this new quartet was no different； but somehow Ryld knew that they were。 Sure enough； they stalked straight toward him and his oblivious opponent through the fragrant haze of innotcense。 Other patrons； likewise sensing the swordsmen's intent； made haste to clear the way。
A blade with a glowing redness…an imprisoned spirit perhaps…oozing inside the adamantine； flicked in a horizontal sweep at the tabletop。 Ryld caught the weapon and pushed it away before it could upset the sava pieces or his neatly stacked winnings。 The long sword was as sharp as only an ennotchanted weapon could be； but he managed the grab without cutting his hand。 Finally startled from his reverie； the scrawny boy looked wildly about。
〃May we help you？〃 asked Ryld。
〃We've been listening to you；〃 said the owner of the long sword。
Though not so big as Ryld； he was nonetheless husky and tall for a drow male； and the points of his prominent ears seemed to reach above the top of his head like a bat's。 He was the best dressed and plainly the leader of the foursome； even though his broad； sullen face bore the mottled bruises of a beating。 The weapons master assumed that some noble female must have seen fit to give the male a pummeling。 His panions would think non