He then took a small bristle brush like the kind I used to brush my teeth and dipped it in the ash. He tapped the brush against the side of the bowl and then lightly brushed ash onto each of the six sides of both dice. Then he vigorously brushed the excess ash away, leaving the pips on each side dark enough to count from a distance.
“Do both players accept the dice as offered?” he asked, his question well practiced to the point of sounding bored.
“Yes,” I said, nodding.
Once my opponent agreed as well, the finely dressed man gathered his ash and bag of dice, then shouted, “The action is on!”
When he left, I did my best to ignore the cheering and chatter around me. I tried not to worry over where Biko was. Even Syndrian’s penetrating stare drifted into the background, and the entire night came down to this game. This opponent.
I looked at the woman, and she looked at me.
“Challenger rolls first,” she said.
I took the die in my hands and shook it. Then I cleared my mind and let everything in my life—my mother, my father, my betrothed—all of it fade away. I threw the dice hard across the board and watched the ash-darkened pips as they tumbled and landed.
“A six!” The betters traded more coins, now that I’d won the opening roll. Well, I’d come as close to winning it as I could. Unless the woman across from me also rolled a six, I’d be moving first.
My opponent adjusted herself in the chair and scowled lightly, apparently as unhappy about my six as I was relieved by it. She blew a breath onto her hands, then picked up the die and rolled it. Her die landed with five little pips facing up. A six-five.
The Lover’s Leap.
Without hesitating, I moved one of my checkers from my opponent’s home position eleven spaces. My opponent nodded as if she would have done the same thing. Then she picked up both dice and rolled a three and a four. I watched with interest as she moved two checkers from the thirteen position toward home. That was interesting. She was clearly trying to build a defensive wall around the bar. I might have scored a strong roll on the very first try, but this woman was going to be tough to beat. She didn’t have very lucky rolls, but she made the most of every move, and just a few rolls into the game, she made three points in her home position and had two of my checkers on the bar.
I was losing. But I wasn’t losing faith. I was just getting warmed up, and I’d come back from much further behind. Our pace picked up then, as I rolled fast. I stayed on the bar for too many turns, just by the luck of the dice. Although she brought all her checkers home while I still had two pieces in her home position, I sent one of her checkers to the bar when she was forced by a roll to expose a blot. She could still easily win if she got off the bar and rounded the board quickly, which she did. I was able to get my last two pieces to home before she gammoned me, but I lost soundly.
“Good game,” I said, shoving my silvers toward her.
“Play again?” she asked. She plucked a quarter penny from the pile of winnings and dropped it in the enforcer’s waiting bucket.
“Same buy-in?” I asked.
She nodded, so I shoved two more silvers her way. I wasn’t worried about losing to her again. This time, I knew she’d played an aggressive move to build a defensive wall on her opening roll, so I’d either look to do the same, trying to be better and faster at blocking her, or I’d chase her into changing her strategy. That was part of the thrill of the game. There were so many ways to play, and it all came down to the personality of the players and the luck of the dice.
While we restacked our pieces and the spectators around us reset their wagers, I noticed the enforcers taking the buckets of coins behind the bar. They pulled coins seemingly at random from the cut they’d collected and dropped them into mugs.
I lifted my chin toward the bar. “What are they doing back there?”
The woman nodded. “Checkin’ for fakes.”
“Fakes?” I asked, reaching for my die.
“They drop the silver in vinegar, and if it turns black after a couple minutes, it’s pure silver.” She shook the dice and, as the winner of the previous game, rolled first.
I grabbed my dice and readied myself for another game. From the corner of my eye, I could see Syndrian watching. I saw Biko’s curls as he worked the crowd, moving past where I was playing and even stopping just momentarily, to peek over my opponent’s shoulder at the game.
We set off on another fast-paced game, the crowd of watchers pointing out moves and cheering or booing based on the rolls of the dice and our respective plays. For a few short hours, I felt like we were actually going to get away with it.
ChapterSixteen
The woman I was playing was an incredibly strong match. We alternated winning until it was almost laughable. She’d win a game, I’d win two. She’d win two more, then I would get the better of her. The tournament had been running for maybe three hours. I’d only won a bit of extra money for all the time I’d played with the woman, and I was ready for a break. I didn’t think she’d be easy to beat, so once I won the next game, I collected my silver from her and stood.
“Excellent games,” I said. “Thank you, friend. I’m going to take a break.”
She nodded at me and sorted her winnings, and I waited for the enforcer to collect the quarter penny from my winnings. Another player immediately took my spot, so I followed the man in black to the bar. Syndrian was leaning his elbows on the rough wood, making small talk with the barkeep while he poured drinks. I noticed Syndrian peek at me but look immediately away. The game we played reminded me of all the times I’d stolen looks at him in the crofter’s cottage—pretending not to see him, while never actually losing sight of him.
There were no empty seats at the bar itself, so I tried to tuck myself between customers but couldn’t quite catch the barkeep’s attention.
“Here, miss.” Syndrian stood from his chair and pointed to it.