Before them, the board stretched from corner to corner across the table. Dozens of dispersed figures wore one of two colors: blue or red. Blue sat comfortably to the south of the deep ravine carved into the wood of the board; the ravine zigzagged down from a mountain northwest of the sea; the mountain and its sisters were central to the territory the red team occupied.
Edwin moved a single piece across the ravine that represented a river. Due to the rules of the game, the light horseman represented by the carved wooden piece was only able to cross at specific points.
John Talbot matched the horseman with five pieces, a force of combined cavalry and heavy infantry. Feigning fear, Edwin pulled his piece back across the river. Talbot didn't pursue; he was too cautious. More pieces continued this cat-and-mouse game at separate points, red light horsemen probing and prodding Talbot's defensive line. Each turn counted as a month; in this way, two years passed in quick succession.
Edwin knew he held the disadvantage; he had never played this game before, his lands were poor and unproductive, and he was the attacker. The blue side had many well-defended, fortified castles, as well as natural barriers that made attacking difficult. Undaunted, Edwin continued his slow strategy; he held his own disadvantages, and throwing in the towel was not the way of his family. Dunvarra was weaker, poorer, its lands harsh and rugged; his army could not boast of thousands of knights or men-at-arms, nor could he equip his soldiers as well. But his men were hardier, stronger-willed, and used to long, grueling marches with no supplies. Compounding this advantage was the fact that Talbot didn't know him; Edwin was free to act unpredictably, bend the rules, and keep the duke on his toes. Older and wiser, Talbot doubted younger, inexperienced Edwin, that doubt would be his greatest asset, his key to victory.
Each time Talbot moved to respond, he massed soldiers, fearing a mass assault. Armies never came; it was always smaller bands of faster, more mobile riders. Here or there, a single band would find a gap and burn a village, or a farm, making away with valuable loot represented by marbles. Talbot responded by raising levies across the border regions, a simple, effective solution, but one Edwin had been expecting. "Good," his adversary was falling into his trap.
A third year passed, then a fourth and fifth. Edwin watched the duke as he grew bored with the game.
Ten pawns, a thousand-man contingent of Talbots Blues chased away a larger-than-average raiding force. Skirmishing broke out around the center of the river. Edwin did not retreat, nor did he engage in a pitched battle. Displeased, the duke added more troops to his army until it grew to three thousand strong, a proper fighting force. Six times he arrayed his army for battle; six times he was denied any pitched battle.
"You must attack Edwin. What does all this stalling do?" Talbot snacked on fruit brought up by a servant; soon, winter would take away the ability to eat most fruits.
Edwin was still unsure of why the duke had invited him to this room. It was a room for scribes, where they worked copying scrolls and books. However, no scribes were sharing the room with them now.
"I know when to fight and when not to, my lord," Edwin was so close to winning, "Gather your army and cross into my land, my lord, then I shall give battle."
The duke did not take his bait, nor did he remove his three thousand men from Edwin's side of the river. A force of that size could not be ignored. Edwin knew they were not alone; all three thousand were the cream of the blue army, irreplaceable knights and men-at-arms. Hidden beyond the river, behind outcroppings of rock, or the thinly wooded forest hugging the blue side of the river, was a massed army waiting for Edwin's forces. Should the Red forces attempt to wipe out such a prize, they would spring forward and reinforce their comrades who were occupying themselves with digging defenses.
Edwin saw right through this trap; he knew immediately how to take advantage of it. The duke was too cautious; he would never ford the river without being attacked.
Sixteen thousand reds assembled in a deep-running valley, well hidden in their own territory. His preparation was showing immediately as they prepared to ford the river themselves. For five years, as his forces raided and plundered the Anlettian countryside, he built up great stores of food and supplies.
Once the summer campaigning season blossomed across the lands, Edwin made him move. Four thousand men surrounded the three thousand of the duke, arrayed for battle but not attacking. Talbot reacted quickly, preparing his reinforcements to conduct a quick crossing the very second battle broke out.
Twelve thousand Reds crossed the river, not near the city of Blychester, which was his ultimate goal. Instead, he crossed the opposite side of Anlett, where the terrain was the harshest and slowest to traverse.
Over the course of three months, his forces ravaged the countryside whilst avoiding battle with the duke's forces. Talbot was struggling to respond; the three thousand men continuously attempted to retreat each time the Dunvarrians at their backs assailed them relentlessly. The duke was forced to withdraw his hidden army to chase down Edwin's forces deep behind his lines.
Edwin retreated safely back to his own territory; the game was technically not over, but the hour had turned late.
"That was quite a match. I think we shall revisit this game soon." Talbot politely shook Edwin's hand in congratulations.
Edwin was happy to play this game again; it was much better than the constant cleaning he had been put through. "My lord, may I ask a question?"
The duke nodded, "Speak page."
"Why invite me to play? I've been here for months, yet I've seen you very little." Edwin was curious; he had assumed being a page would have him constantly around his supposed lord.
"Arthur, he asked me if you were being punished over what happened with my son. You are not; I simply have been rather busy. But young Edwin, you are young and inexperienced in many things. Many would clamor at the prospect of being my page; do not forget that I take you in only because I owed your father a debt. Complaining is not something I expect to hear from you ever again." John Talbot did not have any anger or condemnation in his voice. He looked tired. Edwin couldn't help but notice just how removed John looked from the regal elegance of his children, or the one Edwin hadn't disfigured. "Your mind is sharp, you are bold, and ruthless. There were three times I could have won that game in the last few hours. Write me three pages on where that was and what you could have done instead."
Edwin bowed and started towards his quarters. "Three?" The thought humbled Edwin deeply.