Imperialist: The Voyage

Chapter Twenty-five; The Vision

"Emperor?"

Moutassim was roused from his meditations on the broad expanse of grey water before him and looked up. It was Sengathi. Behind him, the crew were gathered around a keg, watching them. At least, most of the crew were. Tigrita sulked in one corner away from the rest of the crew and Okorie sulked in another.

"Yes Sengathi?" Moutassim sighed. 

"Come join us for a game of senet."

He took a second look and sure enough, a green senet game box was on the keg. It was a small rectangular box, with an open compartment and tiny blue figurines carefully placed inside three rows of boxes carved into the top of the box.

"You go on and have fun," Moutassim said, smiling as he turned back to the sea. "I'm alright."

"I refuse to take no for an answer, Sire," Sengathi doubled down on that by planting his feet and crossing his arms, as he towered over the emperor. Moutassim sighed as he got up and stretched, evening out the height disadvantage. 

"Very well then, since you insist. And please don't lose to me on purpose. You'll only insult my intelligence."

"I wasn't planning to," Sengathi smiled, revealing a gold tooth where his right bicuspid should have been. "Since we're playing for money."

Moutassim looked down at his pants pocket and for the first time in ages, really took stock of his condition. His pantaloons were frayed and decorated with assorted rips. He wore a brown leather breastplate with black studs along the edges. His still muscular arms were bare. He realized that he still had on the bracer from Agdel and made a mental note to reload it.

He rubbed his face and realized with a start that his usual carefully lined facial hair had grown into a thick, bushy beard. The Emperor grimaced.

"Afraid I'll have to owe you until we get back to Kalli, but my word is my bond," Moutassim said, slapping Sengathi on the back as they walked to the keg.

"Of course, Sire."

As he joined the group around the keg, Moutassim tried to remember how the game was played. It had been several years since he had last partaken in a senet game. 

"Start with this," a skinny sailor who looked Bremonian, with long, silky black hair tied in a bun, handed him three senet sticks. "My name's Amar, by the way."

"Moutassim," he replied as he took the sticks, eliciting chuckles from everyone. Moutassim threw the sticks and they landed with two black painted sides up. He looked up at Sengathi.

"Means you move two places, your Majesty."

And so he did. But by the end of twenty minutes, Sengathi had cleared his pieces from the board. Moutassim still had three pieces left. 

"Congratulations," Moutassim said as everyone shook Sengathi's hand. "I'll have one more game, thank you."

That one game turned into many and they played for several hours as the sun did a fiery arc over their head and sank into a russet tinged sunset. At some point in time, Amar got up and returned with two bottles of wine and biscuits. 

But while they played, Moutassim asked questions and got to know his crew. Sengathi was Adregan born but followed no religion. He had a wife and two sons waiting for him back home. This was actually his first voyage, but his air of authority and knockout punch came from his previous career collecting taxes for the empire. 

"I remember," Sengathi said as he picked up his senet sticks. "I went to collect taxes in your name, your majesty. But the bastard was expecting me. He set four men on me. Had to fight my way out, broken hand and all. Broken nose, swollen eye and all. But I got three of them good. One died later on. And then I came back, hand still broken but with imperial soldiers and he still ended up in the dungeons."