Stratagem

“A game?”

“Yes.” She took out a wooden board. “Do you know how to play mancala?”

I did, on account that it was a real type of game from real life I’d put into my story’s world after not wanting to make up a new one (I had no idea how keli was played as I wasn’t going to spend my time coming up with it). Chess also existed in this world.

“Yeah, I do.” Then I considered for a second. “But you probably play a different variety than I do, so please explain it.” Unlike the mancala game I was used to, this one had the stores separate from the main track.

“Put 12 seeds in every cup, except the middle cups, which take two.” She split two fingers across the left and right sides of the board. “That’s your side,” the left, “and that’s my side,” the right. “Choose a spot on your side to start on, and then sow a seed in each hole until you run out, where you can then pick up the seeds in whatever hole after the one you ended on and keep going. If after dropping a seed the hole has exactly six counters, or you end in a spot with an empty hole after the one you ended on, you can put the seeds in your store; if there’s two empty holes, you don’t get anything. That’s the first round, which ends when there’s no more seeds on the board. The next is the same, only you have to fill your side with seeds from your store and the turn order reverses. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I think my friend Priya told me about a variety like this a couple years ago.”

Ky'cina began putting in the seeds. “Where are you from?”

“Oh, nowhere in particular.”

“Your move.”

The logic of this game was pretty similar to the Mancala version I knew, wasn’t it? I just had to count out my moves to see where I would end up. A little simple for a revolutionary mastermind.

I did that and made a pretty solid first move. We kept playing.

It was the second round where I found myself in real trouble. Ky'cina had always seemed to be at an advantage in the first round, but I hadn’t minded it too much. In this second round, though, my store was much lower and I had hardly anything to use.

“The nice thing about this game is that you can get over to the opponent’s side and begin using their pieces pretty easily, so while you start at a disadvantage, it’s not too hard to make up. As for life, it’s harder to claim your opponents’ pieces.”

“As for life, huh?” I said. “We’re sure starting at a disadvantage. But I might be able to help you gain an advantage.”

“What’s so special about you?” Ky'cina dropped a sixth counter into one of the holes on my side and claimed the pile.

“I know pretty much everything about the enemy. And our side, too.”

“I have spies, too. Information doesn’t do much when our enemy has few weak points and we don’t ourselves have much attack power.”

I claimed a pitiful two-seed reward off of the empty-hole rule. At least it was from Ky'cina’s side. The carriage rattled over a pothole; I grabbed the edge of the board to keep it from falling over.

“Still, you get why that’s valuable, right?”

“Sure. If I have proof of why I should trust you.”

“We can prove it to you. That’s…why we’re coming to the capital.” I gestured at Jayla, who was up front learning how to drive a carriage from Val. “Her family was killed. We want to avenge it.”

“Why the we?”

“It was my fault.”

“How so?”

“Ah…” I hesitated. “Just bad reaction time.”

I looked up and caught Jayla watching me. The moment we made eye contact, she turned away quickly and said to Val, “So, what are the horses’ names?”

Man. Bad reaction time was a shitty excuse for Cass’s death. She probably wouldn’t blame me, anyway. Ill-advisedly, she really liked me…

I made my next few moves distracted, and suddenly Ky'cina was saying, “I win.”

“Huh?”

Oh, she really had.

“Next time, don’t lose concentration.”

Ky'cina was good at games. She played them with a smile, like she knew she was going to win. And she did—she beat me at mancala, chess, keli when I finally learned how. Chess, she said, was a false game; a war game that assumed you and your opponents each began with the same power and that you knew every move they would make. In reality, war was evasion, it was lies, and it was subterfuge. But there was one thing good about chess (she said, checkmating my king for the third time): that the most clever player won.

Traveling together was fairly peaceful. Val was interested in Jayla; one day talking a lot to her, then the next seeming intimidated by her, in a mix of romantic nerves that Jayla was wary of but didn’t seem to hate.

Now that I thought about it, Jayla was the same age I was when I’d started college. A proper fledgling adult, ready to deal with the heartache of relationships.

One day she came up to me and said, “I really want to know what makes them trustworthy. You didn’t tell me.”

“They haven’t done anything to us yet, have they? Just believe me—they might not be great people but they’re on our side.”

“How do you know that?”

“I saw their names on a list of rebels when I was a spy, alright?”

“Yeah? How’d you blend in as a spy?”

“You’re underestimating my spying skills, hmm?”

“Stop lying. Just tell me the truth.”

I thought for a second—then sighed, loud and audible. “You know, there are things I can’t give away.”

“...Not even to me?”

“Not even to you. For the sake of secrecy and my country.”

Jayla bit her lip, fiddling with her hair. “You wouldn’t do anything that harms me or the people we care about, right? Even if it’s for the sake of your country.”

“I really wouldn’t. I’m going to live my life to try and make sure you don’t get hurt again.”