Celtic Fire(37)

“Would you like to play a game?”

“What game?”

Marcus slid off his stool and moved to the cupboard. “I’m not allowed to go through the scrolls, but Magister Demetrius didn’t say anything about Uncle Aulus’s games.” He opened the cupboard’s tall doors and rummaged through the contents.

He extracted a wooden board and two leather pouches. “I knew there would be a Robbers board in there,” he said, returning to Rhiannon’s side. “Uncle Aulus taught me to play. It was his favorite.”

He frowned at the crowded table, then simply pushed his stool to one side and sat on the floor, setting the checkered square of wood in front of him. Rhiannon seated herself opposite him and leaned forward. “How do you play?”

Marcus upended the larger pouch, releasing a shower of black and white tiles. He took the black squares for himself and pushed the white ones toward Rhiannon. Then he fished around in the second pouch and drew out two round stone disks, one of each color.

“This is your leader, the Dux,” he said. “He’s in charge of your band of robbers. If you lose him, the game’s over.” He began placing his tiles on the board, one by one. Rhiannon did the same. As she set down her last token, Marcus broke into a wide grin.

Her men were surely doomed.

She was right—Marcus’s robbers made short work of hers in the first battle. Rhiannon lost a second round, but managed to take the third match.

“You learn far too quickly,” Marcus grumbled.

She laughed and leaned forward to ruffle his curls. “I have a good teacher.”

“Let’s see if you’re any good at Knucklebones.” He rummaged once more in the cupboard and returned with a pouch of small bones. “Sheep’s knuckles,” Marcus explained. He chose five and held them in one palm.

With a sharp motion, he tossed the bones in the air and tried to catch them on the back of the same hand. Three clattered to the floor, but the remaining two stuck.

“I can do better,” he said. He scooped up the bones and tried again.

Rhiannon fished more bones from the pouch and imitated Marcus’s toss. All five bounced off her knuckles and skittered under the table. Marcus giggled. Rhiannon retrieved the bones and tried again, sending the lad into a fit of laughter when her second attempt failed as miserably as the first.

He made a noise of superiority and tossed his own set. Rhiannon swatted at the bones in midtoss, knocking three across the room.

“Hey! You can’t do that!” Marcus said.

“I just did,” Rhiannon replied, tossing her own bones well out of Marcus’s reach.

The lad lunged for them, but Rhiannon still managed to catch one on the back of her hand. She threw him a triumphant look.

Marcus dove for the bone, slamming into Rhiannon with his full weight. They fell together in a heap on the Robbers board, scattering the tiles across the floor. Marcus scrambled to one side. Rhiannon hoisted herself onto her elbows, met his startled gaze, and burst into laughter.

Marcus hooted and dropped onto his back on the floor, arms flung wide. Rhiannon leaned back against a leg of the table, giggling like a lass.

“Clearly,” Marcus said, chortling, “I’m the winner.”

“No, let me try again.” She gathered five of the bones and tried again to catch them on the back of her hand. When they bounced off her knuckles, she dissolved once more into laughter. “Truly, Marcus. No one could succeed at this game!”

Marcus sat up and collected another handful. “Uncle Aulus could catch all five,” he said. “So can Father. I saw them playing once late at night.”

Rhiannon could scarcely imagine it. She readied her pieces for a third try. “You jest. I’m not so foolish as to believe your father excels in such a frivolous pastime.”

“Well, you should, because—”

“It is true,” a man’s voice said.

Rhiannon’s head snapped up. Lucius stood in the doorway—how long had he been there? Mud stained his bare legs and marred the shine of his armor. He’d yet to remove his helmet—the plumes of its crest brushed the door’s stone lintel. The side guards shaded his expression, but she felt his scrutiny with every fiber of her being.

“Father!” Marcus’s voice hit a high note.

Rhiannon scrambled to her feet, her fist closed tightly on her set of bones.

Marcus leaped up as well. His foot slipped on a heap of Robbers tiles, sending him skidding across the floor. He grabbed for the edge of the table, missed, and went sprawling atop it. A writing tablet skittered across the stone and crashed to the floor.

“Jupiter help me,” Lucius muttered.