I picked up a handful of the little Gamespieces, dropped them quickly as their chill bit my fingers. They were the same size as the ones I carried so secretly, perhaps less detailed. Under the frost, I couldn’t be sure. “Gamesmaster Gervaise,” I asked, “where do you get them? I never thought to ask when I was a student, but where do they come from?”
“The Gamespieces? Oh, there’s a Demesne of magicians, I think, off to the west somewhere, where they are fashioned. Traders bring them. Most of them are give-aways, lagniappe when we buy supplies. I got that set of air serpents when I bought some tools for the stables. Give-aways, as I said.”
“But how can they give them away? To just anyone? How could they be kept cold?”
Gervaise shook his head at me. “No, no, my boy. They don’t give Gamespieces to anyone but Gamesmasters. Who else would want them? They do it to solicit custom. They give other things to other people. Some merchants I know receive nice gifts of spices, things from the northern jungles. All to solicit custom.” He patted the cold chest and led the way back to Chance. The level of wine in the bottle was considerably lower, and I smiled. He gave me that blank, “Who, me?” stare, but I smiled nonetheless.
“I hear Mertyn’s tread on the stairs,” I said. “I take leave of you, Gamesmaster Gervaise. We will talk again before I leave.” And we bowed ourselves out, onto the stair. I said to Chance, “You were very silent.”
“Gervaise is very talkative among his colleagues, among the tradesmen in the town, among farmers…” Chance said. “You may be sure anything you said to him will be repeated thrice tomorrow.”
“Ah,” I said. “Well, we gave him little enough to talk of.”
“That’s so,” he agreed owlishly. “As is often best. You go up to Mertyn, lad. I’m for the kitchens to see what can be scratched up for our lunch.”
So it was I knocked on Mertyn’s door and was admitted to his rooms by Mertyn himself. I did not know quite what to say. It was the first time I had seen him in this place since I had learned we were thalan. I have heard that in distant places there are some people who care greatly about their fathers. It is true here among some of the pawns. My friend Yarrel, for example. Well, among Gamesmen, that emotion is between thalan, between male children and mother’s full brother; between female children and mother’s full sister. Here is it such a bond that women who have no siblings may choose from among their intimate friends those who will stand in such stead. But our relationship, Mertyn’s and mine, had never been acknowledged within this house.
He solved it all for me. “Thalan,” he said, embracing me and taking the cloak from my shoulders. “Here, give me your hood, your mask. Pfah! What an ugly get-up. Still, very wise to wear it. Chance’s choice, no doubt? He was always a wary one. I did better than I knew when I set him to watch over you.”
I was suddenly happy, contented, able to smile full in his face without worrying what he would say or think when I told him why I came. “Why did you pick Chance?” I asked.
“Oh, he was a rascal of a sailor, left here by a boat which plied up and down the lakes and rivers to the Southern Seas. I liked him. No nonsense about him and much about survival. So, I said, you stay here in this House as cook or groom or what you will, but your job is to watch over this little one and see he grows well.”
“He did that,” I said.
“He did that. Fed you cookies until your eyes bulged. Stood you up against the bullies and let you fight it out. Speaking of which, I recall you often had a bit of trouble with Karl? Had a habit of finding whatever would hurt the most, didn’t he?”
“Oh,” I said and laughed bitterly, “he did, indeed. Probably still does.”
“Does, yes. Early Talent showing there. Something to do with digging out secrets, finding hidden things. Unpleasant boy. Will be no less unpleasant in the True Game I should think. Well, Chance stood you up to him.”