Later—centuries later—a stranger asked Thene what the first game was she ever played.
He meant it in the Gameshouse manner. Not a question of backgammon, checkers or chess, but the game that won her admittance to the higher league, where the currency is life, time and the soul, and the game is played in worlds and kings.
She was silent a long time, and I think the stranger realised then how much bigger the question was than he had thought when he asked it.
At length she answered so:
“The game I played which won me admittance to the higher league was one of kings. My king was Angelo Seluda—no one remembers him now—who wanted to be a Tribune of Venice. These days, we forget what the Tribunes were, but at the time, the matter seemed very important to him. Four other kings were ranged against him—Tiapolo, Contarini, Faliere and Belligno, but of those, Belligno and Tiapolo were destined to lose. Contarini was badly played, and Faliere… in the end, Faliere outplayed his own player, I think. He chose to be a husband before he was a piece, and for that I can admire him. I have played hundreds of games since then, and thought very little on that first but still… I remember not so much the victory, as the pieces. The Priestess, alone on her island. The Seven of Staves, scuttling for ever in busy obscurity. The Knave of Swords, dead by a violent man’s axe. The Fool, empty-eyed and distant; the Tower, who loved to set fires and stare at flies. Death, who gambled too much and paid too high a price. They, I think, stayed with me more than the victory, which was itself no great thing. Somehow still, I remember the pieces.”
At this, the other players laughed, saying, “Pieces? Pieces come and pieces go, and only the game continues!”
“No—but there is more,” she replied. “You asked me what the first game was I ever played, and I told you of the game of kings. But there is another question, more important, which is what is the first game that I was ever played in. That game began, I think, long before I ever competed for the higher league, and though I have not yet seen its shape, its battle is still ongoing.”
At this, the other players fell silent, uncomfortable, perhaps, at an idea that many had felt but few dared express.
Then Thene smiled, and gestured to the table before them and said, “Will you make your move?”
Dice roll.
Cards fall.
Kingdoms topple.
Emperors burn.
The young are born and the old pass away.
And always the Gameshouse, the Gameshouse, it lives, it turns, the Gameshouse waits.
And my love too.
The coin turns.
The coin turns.
And we are gone.