In his train seat, Basil looked at the five marshals board with a forced smile. The wooden pieces were a pleasure to the eye, but the position left much to be desired. Through the red and white squares, his opponent's pieces were erratically deployed, while his had already cornered the remaining two marshals.
Foreseeing his victory, he stopped paying attention to the game and looked at Paul, who was analyzing the board in search of a good move.
—Didn't you say you were good at this? —he asked with a hint of mockery.
Paul took a moment to respond and removed one of the marshals, accepting his defeat with a sigh.
—I didn't expect to lose like this... —Paul replied with resignation; he had confidence in his skills, but his boss had humiliated him not only in this game but in all the others.
—You also said that when we played catch the queen and it turned out I easily beat you. —He leaned back in his chair with an exaggerated smile—. I bought the games to avoid getting bored, but this lack of challenge is going to put me to sleep.
Paul bit his lip and looked at the board games and cards in the suitcase.
—Correction, boss. I didn't just say that when we played catch the queen; I also said it when we played crazy eights, corn and wheat, find the culprit, and trap card. —He began putting away the pieces of five marshals—. I think the problem is your great skill at this.
Basil raised an eyebrow as he looked at him. Paul seemed to be more daring than usual.
—Let me correct you; it's not that I'm very good, it's that you're quite bad. What kind of idiot easily gives up their first marshal?
Paul looked at him for a moment, and with surprising impulse, he put the pieces back on the board.
—Damn it, let's play another game. —he said with a heavy voice.
Basil laughed and made the first move.
—Alright, that's the spirit. —He brought his hands to his chin, pretending to think—. You know, I notice you're a bit different than usual. How should I put it? You seem a bit more relaxed, as if you're not concerned about your salary.
Paul stopped looking at the board to see Basil with confusion.
—but you're not paying me anymore. —he said and moved a piece.
Basil analyzed the board for a while and replied.
—I don't mean that, although maybe that is the problem. What I mean is that... —there was a silence as his hand changed pieces—. I feel like you're talking to me with more confidence. You didn't used to do that; you seemed to respect our boss-subordinate relationship.
Paul looked at him for a while; he seemed to be debating what he was going to say.
—I don't feel very comfortable. —he finally said—. I've been thinking about it lately, but this situation is unfair not just for you; it's also unfair for me. —He made his move after Basil and clicked his tongue; he had made a mistake—. Although you could spare me the trouble; you got me into this trip with these... —he glanced cautiously at the seats next to them and lowered his voice—. crazies.
—Well, I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't have many options; that's why I chose my best warriors. —Basil punished Paul's bad move; in his hands was the first captured marshal.
—a hollow compliment won't solve anything. —he said that, but his back straightened—. And even so, even ten apprentices wouldn't be enough to save you. What were you thinking?
—Well, you caught me there. But anyway, didn't I save your life? If I had left you with Mr. Wiry, you would have run into that Mr. O.
—Don't tell me what you believe in those nonsense stories. —Paul looked at the board bitterly; his previous move had cost him the game—. If two demigods went to where I worked, then I'm Stormhunter.
Basil let out a sigh; they hadn't told Paul what they saw. Unless he saw it with his own eyes, he would never believe something like that.
—Well, if I interpret your words correctly, should I assume we're not together in this? —his voice changed to a cold tone—. We won't be on the same team anymore?
Paul looked at him and swallowed hard. After a few seconds that felt like hours, he responded.
—not at all; if suddenly I become enemies with you, I wouldn't even be able to ask those crazies for help. They're not obligated to help me.
—Then?
—I suppose I'll do what you say, but when it's all over, I'm going somewhere else. This is already too much for me.
Basil nodded; he could understand Paul's attitude. After all, he didn't expect him to have loyalty like Castian's; their connection was entirely based on mutual benefit.
Hm, just as I thought, Paul doesn't trust me as much anymore. Merlian may have heard this.
—Alright, I'm glad you told me that.—He lost interest in Paul and looked at Castian.—We've finished playing; it's your turn.
Castian didn't even nod; he just headed toward where Paul was sitting; Paul quickly ceded his spot. However, a voice interrupted him before he could sit down.
—My apologies, Mr. Castian, I would like to be the next one to play.
Ferned approached with an upright posture and a gaze filled with interest in the game, almost as if he were not angry. This sparked curiosity in Basil, who nodded at Castian when he looked at him.
—Castian, give Mr. Ferned a chance; I'm sure he will provide us with a fascinating game.
The large man simply nodded and stood up. Ferned sat down, and they exchanged uneasy glances in silence.
—This is strange, Mr. Ferned —Basil broke the ice as he arranged the board—. I thought you were quite upset about yesterday.
Ferned looked at him for a moment, made the first move, and spoke.
—The best tool of humans is forgiveness. Without it, how could we distinguish ourselves from beasts? You have been selfish, but I do not wish to hold a grudge against you for it.
The gray-haired man felt a strange sense of familiarity with that phrase; he felt like he had heard it somewhere. He was surprised not to recall it; he trusted his memory quite a lot.
—Our mission is to protect you —Ferned continued—. And not just me; the others also want to meet the person we are protecting. —He lifted his gaze from the board and looked at Basil—. And I am sure you want to meet us.
Basil did not hide his surprise; he truly wanted to know about that mysterious group. Of course, it was hard for him to accept that excuse, so he remained skeptical.
—I appreciate your forgiveness, Mr. Ferned. So, what would you like to talk about? Perhaps you'd like to start with trivialities like the weather, though I wouldn't recommend that. Instead, I could talk for hours if it's about your origins. —Basil replied after moving a pawn.
—Don't be in such a hurry, Mr. Basil. Everything that needs to be said will be said. For now, let's talk with the board and the pieces.
Basil shrugged and the game continued. Instantly, he noticed that the elder was not lying; the moves he made were those of a master. Of course, Basil was no expert, but to his eyes, it looked that way. He had rarely had such a close game; Paul wasn't very competent and Castian lost too quickly; he didn't like wasting time on games.
Every move from the elder had utility in multiple choices, as if he knew what Basil would do three moves later. Basil had to stay still more than once, analyzing the position, the moves he could make and their repercussions on the game. He trusted that he had made the best decisions up to halfway through the game since Ferned also took time to ponder his next move.
Paul watched from the side; the game had reached a difficult position with Basil losing by a narrow margin. The gray-haired man remained silent for a while; his position had become complicated. Analyzing the pieces on the board, he thought.
_After capturing that pawn... The A5 square... The last marshal... I see now; this is going to end in a draw. Well, it's better than losing. At least I won't have a bad taste left._
With some resignation, he captured the pawn controlling many squares. Ferned stroked his beard while analyzing this move, which puzzled Basil.
_Didn't you know I would make that move?_
The elder spent some time debating which piece to play; his hand moved carefully over them. After much thought, he played something Basil never expected.
—Eh? —Paul couldn't hide his surprise; he looked carefully at the captured pawn, doubtful of what he was seeing.
Basil furrowed his brows slightly; his gaze alternated between Ferned and the board. After a long silence, the elder noticed something strange in the young man's expression.
—Is something wrong, Mr. Basil? —he asked.
—What do you mean something is wrong? —he pointed at the red pawn—. What was that move? Since when do pawns capture diagonally?
In five marshals, pawns can only capture sideways and move in one direction only. Although there were certain variations depending on the kingdom, none allowed such movement.
Ferned examined the piece closely. Doubt reflected in his eyes but did not last long as he seemed to realize his mistake and spoke.
—I am very sorry; it seems I made an error.—he said while putting the pieces back in their previous position.—Please excuse this senile old man.
»It seems this game will end in a draw.—He extended his hand toward Basil.—It has been a pleasant game. Being so young and skilled is surprising.
—Ehh... I understand; you are quite good yourself.—Basil accepted the handshake without forgetting about the previous scene in his memory.—Let's play more another time.
Ferned bowed and retreated to a nearby seat. Paul looked at him and turned to Basil, who did not bother hiding his confusion.
—Is he really that old? —Paul asked.
Basil turned towards the window, where the green meadows peeked in. The rising sun provided a warm glow.
—Castian, let's play.