When Legends Cross

5.1 • The Reputation Game

Captain Morrissey was engaged in a one-man board game when I entered his cabin. I recognized the setup immediately; I'd grown up playing Soldier's Advance with my siblings, until our mother had decided it wasn't sophisticated enough for people of our class. The game was built for three players, all moving their token toward the center of the triangular board, but the Captain had only set up two, leaving the third path empty.

He sent the others to get me. He can't be that upset.

The clatter of the six-sided die cut through the silence in the room. Morrissey frowned at a result I was too far away to see, looked at the betting cards in his hand, and placed a card face-down on the table. He reached over to his opponent's token—the navy blue one—and pulled it four spaces closer to the board's center, then turned his own card up to reveal a large number 1.

"Sir," I spoke up. My voice sounded far away, less commanding than the clack of the die on the table as he rolled again.

"Rhotar," Morrissey said without looking at me. "Can I get your advice here?"

I clasped and unclasped my hands, a little annoyed at a delay probably meant to keep me nervous. Still, he was the Captain, and he was probably doing this for a reason, so I walked to the opposite side of the table and looked over the board.

"Blue is way ahead," I observed, glancing at him. He nodded, watching me intently, so I continued. "Black bet that Blue would only move one space on the last turn—probably assuming Blue would play it safe, because they could afford to make smaller moves at this point. But Blue moved four. I'm guessing that was the max they rolled, right?"

He nodded again. The corner of his mouth twitched.

I looked at the die—he'd rolled another 4 for Black's turn. "Blue will bet four, so that if they're wrong and Black gets to move, they still won't go far enough to catch up," I said.

"So I should move three?"

I furrowed my brow at the board. "If there was a third player, they'd bet three. Force Black to take the loss. But it doesn't look like you're accounting for anyone else here, so really, Black should have been moving more aggressively this whole time."

"I see."

I paused, getting the vague sense that I'd just called my Captain an idiot.

"You're quite the strategist, Rhotar."

That had to be leading somewhere. "I do my best, Sir," I answered, meeting his gaze.

"It's quite impressive. You always seem to know what your opponent is doing."

I swallowed. "I do my best," I repeated.

He leaned forward, dark brown eyes holding mine. "I want to know how you knew Sheriff Carter would follow us," he said quietly. "And I don't mean following you to the bar, I mean why he's fifty miles from Hashton in the first place."

That sounded...accusatory. "Honestly, I didn't, Sir," I said carefully. "It was only a guess, but I figured if I went to intercept him and he didn't show up, I wouldn't really have done any damage."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" His voice rose slightly.

"I didn't think you'd take my guess seriously."

"Right." He reached to the board and slid the black token three spaces forward, the movement harsher than strictly necessary. "Nor should I, because you're a deckhand with three months of experience who spent his entire life being pampered."

I felt irritation bubble in my throat. "I chose to leave that life and join your crew," I said. "I didn't have to."

"That's just it, Rhotar. A competent strategist would never make a move like that unless he had something to get out of it."