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marks.
    “What kind of game is it?” Quintel asked.
    “A very ancient game of strategy,” Siyer said, placing the cylinders in array on the board. “Many men have gone mad trying to master it.”
    “What is it called?” Quintel asked.
    Siyer stopped for a moment and looked off into space, searching his memory for an answer.
    “I do not believe it has a name,” he said after a moment. “I have only heard it referred to as 'the game.' “
    Quintel turned his attention to the game and its components. A grid of identical squares etched the surface of the board. Siyer rested several uneven rows of pieces on either end with the marked side up.
    “Now listen carefully as I explain the rules,” he said. “They are simple in design, but difficult in application.”
    Siyer explained how the game was played. Each piece possessed a different value and method of movement with no two sharing the same function. Some pieces moved diagonally, some in straight paths. Some moved in zig-zags and could hurtle other pieces. Some could move across the entire board, while others were allowed only a single square per turn. Some pieces could only be used once per game, others could move several times a round.  One could merge with other pieces to form new, more powerful pieces.
    At the beginning, the pieces could be arranged in any manner the player wished.
    “It holds elements of similar games I have played, but the diversity of its pieces makes it far more challenging,” Quintel said. “What is the final objective?”
    “You must build a chain of connecting pieces which touches the last rank of the board,” Siyer said. “Thus attaining your goal.”
    They struggled through their first game, with Siyer coaching Quintel on the movement of each piece. Siyer won after a dozen turns, but Quintel was not disheartened. He knew that once he mastered the movements of the men, Siyer would eventually fall.
    They played several more matches with Siyer winning easily each time. On the tenth game, however, the Vaerian introduced a new rule into play.
    “Now that you've played the child's version, let us attempt the true form of the game,” he said and began turning the pieces upside down with their mark hidden on the bottom.
    “Impossible!” Quintel argued. “Each piece holds a different movement and they are identical in shape. After a few turns we will not know which piece is which.”
    “Do not be impatient,” Siyer replied. “In time, you will learn to remember.”
    The pace of the game slowed to a crawl. Quintel often had to look at the bottom of a piece to see its potential. Siyer was tolerant and encouraging.
    They played a dozen more games well into evening. After many hours, Siyer yawned, stretched and sent Quintel to his pallet of bundled straw in the adjoining room.
    “We'll play more tomorrow, after I have finished my duties,” he promised.
    Tired from the hours of intense concentration, Quintel lay on his mat and closed his eyes. The grid of the playing board was burned upon thoughts. His mind recreated games against the back of his eyelids. Once asleep he dreamed of more games and possible games. Over and over, all night, he played in his sleep.
     
    His life continued like this for many more months. To fill the days, he would perform trivial tasks for Siyer and study the scrolls, maps and charts in their cell. At night, they would play the game until fatigue overtook them.
    The old guard, Fletcher, was replaced by a younger, meaner veteran who held no fondness for Quintel or Siyer. The decision to retire Fletcher had come directly from Huk, who believed the young Abanshi needed stronger precautions to ensure his imprisonment. The new guard's name was Crag.  He had fought both the Abanshi and the Vaerians in several battles. His hatred for them was plain.
    Winter came. Wooden shutters covered the narrow windows and their cell remained always dark. Pale light from lamps and candles pushed the darkness away in pockets