"So you were a spy," Samuval said, his lip curling in a sneer. "Yes."
"Well, now I have you again. But this time, no disguises."
Gerard nodded. "No disguises." Samuval laughed. "Well, that war is over. Now we must come to terms with the present." He accepted Gerard's dagger from the leader of the squad that had brought him in, then made a gesture to an aide who had been standing at mute attention at the back of the room. The aide approached Gerard and patted him down thoroughly, finding and confiscating a couple of other knives he had strapped to his arm and shin. The aide tossed the weapons onto the table.
"Fools!" Samuval hissed to the soldiers who had brought Gerard in. "Didn't you check him for hidden weapons first?" The leader of the squad cringed. "I'll deal with you later," Samuval said angrily and dismissed the soldiers with a sharp gesture. The soldiers spilled from the room in rapid disorder, so anxious were they to escape their leader's wrath.
Samuval sighed, waving to one of the crude wooden camp stools around the table. "Sit," he told Gerard. "Let's have tea together and discuss whatever you came here for like the two gentlemen we are."
Gerard refrained from saying what he thought of the outlaw leader's claim to gentility.
"And while we are enjoying our tea," Samuval went on, "perhaps like your predecessor you will join me in a game of Regal. We are, after all, two civilized people." He shot Gerard a glance as if struck by sudden doubt. "You do play Regal, don't you? I mean, you are civilized?"
"I play a fair game," Gerard acknowledged, sitting. "I was the Southern Ergoth champion in my age category for a time," he added, noting Samuval's amused reaction.
"Good." Samuval smiled and motioned again to the aide, who placed a small camp table between them and proceeded to set up a game board. Then the aide brought two steaming mugs of tarbean tea from a stove in one corner of the room. Watching the aide, Gerard recollected all the times he had served similar duty while a Knight of Solamnia, preparing tea for his superiors though he longed for an opportunity to fulfill a more significant role. Now here he was being served in turn, pretending to civility with this ruthless captain of a brigand army. What was Samuval up to? The outlaw acted as though he were starved for a friendly game of Regal.
Gerard sipped his tea gingerly, for in truth he detested the stuff. He gathered his thoughts. Now that he was here, he wasn't sure just how to bring up the subject of Sheriff Joyner's murder. Besides, Samuval seemed to have some sly purpose of his own in mind.
Samuval looked at him with a sudden cold hatred in his eyes. "You must think you made quite a fool of me during the war, claiming to be a Knight of Neraka. Worse, you made a fool of Mina. But I think it's time we evened the score." He turned toward the aide. "Brok! Bring in any men who are presently off duty. They will be privileged to watch while I teach our… guest here the finer points of competition."
Brok gave Gerard a sneering grin before going outside. When he returned a few minutes later, he was accompanied by a dozen or more of Samuval's brutish-looking men. They clustered around the small table. Gerard didn't like the odds but realized he couldn't do anything about it.
"Look, the baron's gonna play him at Regal," one man laughed, and the others joined in. They pressed in close, inspecting Gerard like a side of beef. Gerard returned their stares as levelly as he could. For all their motley appearance, he noted their swords and knives as shiny and new, made with distinctive curved blades. Samuval himself wore a sword befitting the title he had conferred upon himself, a richly ornamented, curved weapon with a jeweled hilt and decorative scabbard.
Samuval rotated the game board so the green, or Life, pieces faced toward Gerard, and the red, or Death, pieces were toward his side. Looking up, Samuval caught Gerard's questioning gaze. "For the sake of argument," he explained with a malicious wink. This brought another laugh from his men, some of whom stood so close, Gerard could feel their hot, fetid breath on his neck.
Samuval was playing some psychological game, Gerard understood, and he had already made his first move. This game of Regal might endanger Gerard's very life.
One after the other, they switched around the five cups to the side of the board, under one of which lay the Crown. During play, a person could give up turns in order to look under the cups, in hopes of crowning a Courtier and raising it to the level of a King. As the board was prepared, Samuval's men began taking bets on the outcome of the contest, although they were hard pressed to find anyone willing to wager against their leader.
"Your move," Samuval said when everything was ready. "Green goes first."
Life before Death, of course. Gerard was being granted the first move. The sheriff opened cautiously, advancing a Thrall two spaces.
"Ah, Kargaard's Gambit," Samuval said with a grin, moving one of his Thralls forward in turn. "A classic opening and here is my response."
Gerard had never heard of Kargaard's Gambit, and wasn't sure it even existed. No, the wily freebooter was probably just trying to shake Gerard's confidence.
"Pleased as I am to have your company," Samuval said almost idly, as he studied the board, "you didn't come all this way just to play a friendly game of Regal with me, did you?"
Gerard sipped his tea with elaborate disregard for the men whispering and sniggering around him. He suppressed a grimace at the taste. "I came to see what light you could shed on Sheriff Joyner's murder. I understand you and he were friendly, and that he sometimes came here to play you at Regal as well." He advanced his Thrall another space.
Samuval responded in kind, then sat back and nodded. "I tolerated Sheriff Joyner, but that was only because he, at the behest of the Solace officials, made the town a neutral place for me and my men. Nor did he harass me outside the town limits. Of course, his actions were constrained by ordinances from the town council. To go against the council would have been stupid, and one thing Joyner wasn't was stupid." He grinned. "Besides, he played a pretty mean game. I can trounce every man at this outpost, so it was refreshing to face such a competent opponent from time to time."
Gerard started to take another sip of tarbean tea, then put his mug down instead. He didn't think he could bear to swallow another mouthful. He tried bringing one of his Soldiers into play, but Samuval deftly countered his move. "So what do you know about the sheriff's murder?" he asked, launching an offensive against Samuval's Courtiers, the highest-ranking pieces on the board.
Samuval casually made a move to beat him back. "Ask the elves about that one," he said, causing his men to laugh again.
"Yeah," muttered a man in Gerard's ear, "ask the elves."
Gerard finally succeeded in bringing one of his Soldiers into play. "What would the elves know?"
"I hear they left you a special message," Samuval said, laughing at some private joke. "You know, morgoth?" He captured Gerard's Soldier and removed it from the board.
The man was surprisingly well informed, Gerard thought. "What's the meaning behind morgoth?"
Samuval shrugged, moving one of his own Soldiers forward. "All this fuss over one dead sheriff!"
Gerard started to rise. "Well, you're right. That's what I came to talk about. If that's all you can tell me, we might as well cut this game short."
A rough hand on his shoulder forced him down again. "Sit. Finish the game." The men behind and those hovering to his sides laughed uproariously at this.
The game dragged on with mounting tension. Gerard had to admit, Samuval made a formidable opponent. The men around him spat laughter in his face at every advance their captain made, occasionally poking him or clapping him hard on the shoulder. Twice Gerard sacrificed a turn in order to look under a cup, but in neither case was he successful. At one point, one of Samuval's Thralls was in a position to be captured and removed from play. So Gerard took the Thrall from the board, even though he puzzled at his opponent's willingness to sacrifice even so minor a piece.