Chapter One

This is absolutely incredible, Ubar." Lady Miranya mused softly as her gracefully-gloved hands gently opened the ancient scroll. "The historical works of Titus Honorious..." she trailed off momentarily as a wondrous sigh interrupted her words. "They are rare, priceless, absolutely extraordinary."

Luther, Ubar of Delphius, smiled at the Lady Scribe's awe. He was proud of the new addition to his personal library, and had granted several citizens of Delphius the opportunity to examine the work. He watched in silence as Miranya's lovely eyes, shining with her delight, marveled at the beautiful text: the fine script, the quality of the paper. The price must have been unimaginable. She studied it for a good deal of time.

As she was returning the piece to it's proper place, her gaze fell upon another scroll on a nearby shelf.

"Formidable Kaissa Defense" she read aloud, unable to hide her curiousity. "By Stegorus, Master Player from Tabor." As she looked across that shelf, and the one to its right, all she saw were scrolls dealing with Kaissa-art of the game, beauty of Kaissa pieces and boards, philosophy of the game, records of tournaments, strategy guides. Beneath the cover of veils, her mouth fell slightly agape, and a shadow of amazement colored her eyes anew.

The Lady's voice was quiet, admiration warming her words. "Such a collection."

A gloved fingertip hesitantly touched one of the scrolls, but she quickly withdrew it. She then turned to face the Ubar, her thick robes rustling against each other.

She chose her words carefully, but her voice was strong, seemingly casual and conversational.

"It's quite a shame the laws of Delphius prohibit a woman from playing Kaissa. We too could be enriched by the game."
The Ubar barely acknowledged her, as he was engrossed in his writing. "Even where the laws don't prohibit the game to women, few play."
Miranya paused, debating her words in her mind, hesitant in her actual speech. "I… I…know how to play. I'm...quite good."

The Ubar chuckled a bit. "Women cannot comprehend the intricacies and subtleties of Kaissa. They lack a strategic and tactical sense. They lack the instinct of the Warrior. You would be better off playing Stones."

Miranya was a bit indignant, knowing she had defeated men before at Kaissa. It was not real combat. It was but a game, and any intelligent person could learn to play well.

Miranya tentatively asked, "But why must it be illegal for women to play here? What is the great harm in it?"

The Ubar stopped writing and turned toward Miranya. He knew her to be an intelligent woman, one he had often before enjoyed conversing with concerning a variety of topics. Her eyes sparkled with life as well, and he sometimes wondered about the face beneath those thick veils.

The Ubar then explained, "That law has existed for at least two hundred years. It was simply considered an area where women should be prohibited, for their own good. Women should not get involved in activities in the province of men, such as war. Kaissa is but a simulation of war so women have no place there. And I have met few women even interested in it."

"Well….I do have some interest in it. And I think that I have some skill in the game." Replied Miranya.

The Ubar smiled. "I am sure you have some rudimentary skill at Kaissa. The rules are relatively simple to understand. But, it is in the arena of strategy where you would fail. You do not have the necessary background or understanding of such matters. You might be able to play, but you surely could never play well. In addition, the Masters of Kaissa sometimes play for great stakes, and women do not wager as such either. They are better off wagering their coppers at the tarn races."

Miranya hesitated before responding. It infuriated her a bit that he was so dismissive of her abilities. She had learned well and felt that she had a good grasp of Kaissa strategy. She wished to prove to him her skill, to make him admit that possibly he was wrong. But she did not think he would just play her in a game. She needed a way to entice him to play, to make it worthy of his attention.

And she pondered it more.

"The Masters of Kaissa sometimes play for great stakes..."

The Ubar's words echoed in her mind. In that statement was her best chance -- simply debating him would accomplish nothing. She felt it necessary to prove her skill, partly from pride, and partly to gain the ability to continue playing. She wanted the law changed. To propose a wager would doubtlessly be her best option, but she knew that she must offer something of interest -- he would not risk having to change a law without an intriguing possible gain. But what did she have to offer an Ubar?

Miranya's eyes narrowed slightly. She knew of but one thing she had to offer that even the Ubar might be enticed by.

The study was empty as even his kajira Penelope was off attending to something else. "Play me at Kaissa, Ubar," her voice was confident, but not arrogant. "I know that my skill does not match your own, but my abilities should not be dismissed. Play me, grant me some advantage, and if I win, strike the law. If you win..." she took a breath, and her voice grew quieter. "If you win, I shall submit to you, in contract slavery, for a single night."

An amused smile formed on the Ubar's lips. He felt that the Lady must think quite highly of herself to believe that one night of submission would be comparable to changing such a law, but he was fascinated by the proposition. It simply needed a slight modification.
"I am not averse to your basic proposal, but the stakes are not quite even. If you truly wish to play, then we shall play for important stakes. I would not play you for anything less. If I lose, I will revoke the law and women will then be permitted to play Kaissa within Delphius. But, if I win, you will submit to me, not for a single night, but permanently."

Miranya was horrified and her voice did not disguise this. "Absolutely not!"

Luther wasn't surprised at her objection. "Kaissa is very important to me. And I do not play for minor stakes. If you wish to challenge me, it will be all or nothing. We shall play a match of eleven games. I will give you a commensurate advantage when we play. And I will accordingly adjust that advantage during the match once I have better gauged your ability."

Miranya stood there considering the wager. She very much wanted to be able to play, and she wanted to prove to him her skill. But, he asked far too much. She could lose her very freedom, becoming mere property, a collared slut. Miranya shivered a bit at the thought, the totality of it all. But part of that shiver was delicious as well, those forbidden thoughts that sometimes haunted her dreams. To submit to a strong man, to be owned by him, to serve him in all ways. Thrilling but so dangerous.

"Well Lady Miranya, what shall it be?"

The Lady's captivating gray eyes were shadowed by the thick veil of her lashes as she was too uncertain to meet his gaze. Damn him for demanding such a huge sacrifice. A strange sensation had gathered in her lower belly, accumulating there like a hard, icy core, and it took several moments for an uneasy Miranya to realize that it was, indeed, fear. She had never truly feared a man before. She feared the way he made her feel.

Skeptically, her eyes lifted, and she studied him for a moment. Some clue was sought, some insight into emotion or weakness. She found none. The expression in his eyes had changed, and they seemed foreign. They were the eyes of a hunter, the eyes of a man who had found a worthy target. They were cold and calculating, unbothered by weighty details such as emotion.

Those eyes were the source of her alarm.

Her mind told her to decline the wager. Her pride and that secret, sensual curiosity, to accept.

The Lady's chin lifted, her eyes meeting the Ubar's without their former, brief bashfulness. They seemed to smile.

"Time, Ubar," her voice holding no hint of uncertainty. "I must have time to decide. I will let you know very soon -- if this is acceptable?" This was not a decision to make rashly, or out of emotion. She needed to ponder it carefully and thoroughly.

The Ubar nodded briefly, "I would not rush you into such a decision. I will, however, advise you to choose wisely. Once the first game begins, you may not withdraw from the wager. Once we begin, you are committed to the end."

Lady Miranya nodded, said her farewell and then left for home. Her mind raced with everything, a myriad of feelings and thoughts about the wager and Kaissa.

Chapter Two

Three days had passed. The Ubar had thought little of the matter during that time, assuming that Miranya would decline. So, he had just concentrated on the plethora of tasks a Ubar is often enmeshed in. But, Miranya had thought of little else those few days. It had been the single most important thought on her mind.

Miranya assessed her skills to the best of her abilities. She practiced playing with her guards in the privacy of her cylinder, willing to risk the fine if she were caught. She spent much time at the library, reading late into the night on Kaissa strategy and studying old tournament records. When sleep finally claimed her, she was consumed with unspeakably luscious dreams -- dreams which fractured into muddled fragments by the point of awakening.

Her skills could not equal those of an expert or Master Player, but she would be permitted an advantage. Two of her guards were only average Kaissa players, and she was able to flawlessly defeat each in several games. Hector, her guard and teacher, proved more of a problem, as his game was tactically superb and always aggressive. He was a fine Warrior, after all. Many of their matches ended in draws, and the others were split evenly between the two of them. And all without receiving any advantage.

Would her skills be enough to impress the Ubar? Could she defeat him with an advantage? Was she simply deluding herself, believing that her guards played much better than they actually did?

In the end, it was her pride which determined her answer. Her blood ignited with fury as she kept recalling the Ubar's words: "…rudimentary...simple...but surely you could never play well..."

A scroll was then delivered to Luther, penned in delicate and familiar writing. From the script, he knew it to be from the Lady Miranya, despite the lack of a signature.

The missive simply read, "I will play you."

Miranya could not bring herself to even write down that the wager was accepted. She knew that her agreement to play said it all.
Self-doubt plagued her, as well as fear over the ramifications of a potential loss. But, wounded pride fueled her risk, making her accept the wager when rational thought had spoken against acceptance. She would prove herself to him, to make him apologize for her words.

The match was then arranged. It would occur in a private chamber in the Central Cylinder, with no witnesses present. Miranya was admitted entrance into the Central Cylinder, ostensibly to assist with some Scribe matters, but was then admitted into a more private area. From there, the Ubar personally took her to where they would play.

The room was small but comfortable, with a narrow window allowing in the sun. There were refreshments on a nearby table, fruit, cheese and Sa-Tarna bread. The board was already set up, a sand clock next to it, and the pieces gleamed in the sunlight. The Kaissa pieces were amazing creations, one side carved from yellow diamonds and the other from red rubies. The set must have been worth a fortune, and it was probably one of a kind. One of the most expert of Carvers had to be responsible for such a masterpiece. At the table, were two curule chairs, each well cushioned and the legs made from ivory.

Miranya was amazed at it all, knowing she would savor this match no matter what the result. He was treating her much too well, like an honored guest, rather than a simple female Scribe. But then he could afford to be so magnanimous as he was Ubar.

The Ubar directed her to sit behind the yellow pieces and he then sat on the other side. He indicated that she would play Yellow for the first game, which gained her a significant advantage as Yellow moved first. In addition, the Ubar would remove two of his own pieces, a Physician and a Rider of the High Tharlarion. They would play a standard timed match, forty moves within two Ahn. Depending on the outcome of this game, the handicap might be adjusted.

Miranya was very nervous, even intimidated by the board. The entire setting was a bit unnerving, the abundant luxuries, the decadent comforts. She began to feel some doubt over the wager but knew that it was too late to back out. She had to see it through to the end. No matter what the result.

Miranya's delicate hand reached forward, moving her Ubar's Spearman to Ubar Five, a conventional but sound move. She then turned the spigot on the sand clock and the Ubar's turn began. Without hesitation, he responded in kind, mirroring her move, and then turned the spigot.

Miranya tried to concentrate on the game, but her nervousness was a hindrance. Her mind was so torn, so unfocused. And it hampered her play. The Ubar capitalized on each and every one of her mistakes. He was a merciless player, able to clearly see several moves ahead. Miranya feebly tried to counter his aggressive attacks but her errors simply multiplied.

And the end result seemed a foregone conclusion. The Ubar soundly won that first game.

Miranya silently berated herself, knowing that she had defeated herself. She had made some elementary mistakes due to her nervousness. And the Ubar had not cut her any slack. He had played to win, as well he should. Miranya knew she could play much better than she had. She fully had deserved to be trounced. She needed to collect herself, to put aside her fears.

They took a short break before beginning the next game. Miranya drank some larma juice and ate a little cheese and bread. The Ubar was jovial, discussing matters unrelated to the game. He mentioned the coming En'Kara Fair, and the Carnival that would precede it. He mentioned the new construction in the city, a couple new taverns and some renovations on the Streets of Coins. He mentioned the concerns of the Merchants about expanding the harbor facilities.

For the most part, Miranya simply listened. She felt that he might have been a bit arrogant, confident that he would win the match after her poor performance. But then she had not given him any reason to believe she was skilled or that she would offer him any challenge. He might even view this as a desperate attempt on her part to gain his collar, rather than just submitting to him.

Miranya vowed to forgot her worries and concentrate only on the game. She had to prove her abilities, the skills she knew she possessed. She did not want to seem to be some talentless free woman, seeking closeness to the Ubar.

As they sat down for their second game, the Ubar now possessed Yellow. But, he decided to increase the handicap by allowing Miranya a three-move option. At some point in the game, a point of her choosing, Miranya could move three of her pieces in a row. Miranya steeled herself, to calm her nerves and to play as well as she could. She knew that with Yellow, the Ubar had a significant advantage. And all sense told her that she should try for a draw. Even with her handicap.

The Ubar opened with the Ubara's Gambit, the most common opening for Masters of Kaissa. It was a very strong opening and Miranya knew she was not so sure with this opening. It was a more complex opening and one she did not possess much familiarity with. Thus, she definitely needed to try for a draw.

It was a brutal game, a true show of the skill and ability of the Ubar. He was clearly an expert player, if not a master. From the start of the game, he went on the offensive, launching wave after wave of successive attacks. Miranya could do little but try to defend and she found no way to turn the tables, to counterattack against his onslaught. Only the existence of her three-move option prevented her defeat earlier in the game.

But, despite his disadvantage of two missing pieces, the Ubar played superbly. And Miranya's three-move option only bought her a brief reprieve as he mustered another stunning offensive. Again, the ending seemed forgone. He claimed her Home Stone and she was at a loss to prevent it.

Two wins for the Ubar.

Miranya was disappointed again, but more positive as to her own play. She had overcome much of her nerves and played much better than in the first game. But she still knew that she could play even better. She had yet to play at the top of her game. And she needed to do so quickly because he had already won two games.

They adjourned the match for the day and decided to meet again in three days to continue their games. They shared a fine Ka-la-na, Miranya's cup being properly diluted. And still the Ubar talked of everything but the game. Miranya said very little on her own, and did not want to discuss the game either. Anything she said would likely mean little. Her actions had to be persuasive, they had to speak for her.
When she left, Miranya knew she would spend the next few days studying. She needed to learn more of the Ubara's Gambit. She needed to study better defenses. Her work would have to be put aside briefly so that she could be prepared for the continuation of the match. She could not allow him to win.

After she left, the Ubar stood at the window, watching a tarnsmen patrol off in the distance. Though he had won the first two games, he was disappointed. He knew Miranya was not yet playing at her best. He had seen her nervousness, and it was evident in her poor play. He hoped that she would play better the next time. Though he would accept the wins anyways, he did wish for better games, for more of a challenge. But that also did not stop him from thinking of what he would do once he won the wager.

He grinned as thought of Miranya kneeling before him, submitting to him as a slave. He smiled at the pleasures he envisioned.

Following the matches, Miranya's guards joined her as she exited the Central Cylinder. They noted the terse swiftness in her movements, the cold edge to her voice, and they were very curious.

"Difficult meeting?" one inquired.

Her reply was sharp and simple: "Unimaginably."

And her guards understood not to ask any further questions.

The Lady Scribe was furious with herself. She prided herself on her control, her abilities, and her intelligence, and all had failed her. She had been visibly shaken; she allowed herself in be intimidated by the small room, the Kaissa board, and even the pleasant attitude of the Ubar. None was a mistake on his part, that she was certain. He knew the effects of such factors, and she should have prepared for elements beyond the board.

Kaissa matches were complex not just because of the multitude of possibilities on the board. There was a keen psychological factor involved as well, something that the Ubar was obviously cognizant.

Miranya would not allow it to happen again.

Chapter Three

The next several days were spent in seclusion as Miranya read, poring over scroll after scroll. She slept little and ate even less. She was consumed with the Game, mesmerized by a myriad of details and a bit desperate. She explored every defense she could find, taking great care to understand the Telnus Defense. Had she been familiar with this strategy, she would've doubtlessly forced the second game into a draw, considering her advantage. But would the Ubar open with the Ubara's Gambit again?

Her eyes grew strained from the candlelight reading. The Lady seemed fatigued, her typically vivacious personality buried under her desire to defeat the Ubar, to prevent him from winning that wager. Her guards, slaves, and friends grew curious, but she spoke nothing of her troubles. She had not uttered the word "Kaissa" since the wager was arranged.

Night and day melted together fluidly, as they often did when time was too little, and she found herself facing a sunset. Its rosen hues inked her robes a vibrant purple and colored her gray eyes. Miranya would not make another night. She retreated to her chambers and called a slave to undress her. And the Lady slept.

And she dreamt of softness, heat, and movement.

The next morning, she returned to the Central Cylinder. Just as before, she abandoned her guards to be escorted by the Ubar's servants to more private chambers. From there, she followed her Ubar into the familiar room. He was in a fantastic mood, talking of his plans to expand tarn racing in Delphius. They settled themselves in the ornate curule chairs, Miranya once again behind Yellow.

Her eyes lowered to the pieces. From the strengthening sun, the priceless figures captured the light, almost if they themselves possessed life. Any outward signs of her former nervousness were expertly veiled though she was sure that he could detect the weariness within her, the sure signs of her lack of proper rest.

Common openings would not do against this opponent. She needed something stronger, something bolder. She chose to move the Ubar's Tarnsman to Physician seven -- the Centian Opening. She then awaited his response.

Time began to slip away as they played, as they battled across this field of squares. Miranya was confident in her ability to execute a win, but, finally sensing a challenge, the Ubar subtly arranged a perfect defense. No matter how hard Miranya tried, she could not batter down his defenses, could find no way to finesse past his walls. In the end, neither player was able to capture a Home Stone. The Scribe smiled smoothly at the conclusion. She knew her game -- mental and emotional - had drastically improved and she was very pleased.

As they broke before the next game, the Lady was more talkative than before, her melodic voice filling the small room. The Ubar was impressed with the enhancement of Miranya's game, though he knew that she still had much to learn. She seemed calmer, more focused, but he still felt as if she was too hesitant in her movements. She questioned her instincts too much, and it cost her a win in the last game. She had not developed the intuitiveness of the good player, that almost prescience at times.

The Ubar took Yellow as they reset the pieces. Before the first move, Miranya knew that securing a draw would be a great success. His opening was unfamiliar to her, but she sensed his plan and arranged the Telnus Defense. It seemed a fitting response, tactically sound. And her defense held for much of the game, and the use of her three-move option nearly secured her a draw.

Very nearly.

Unfortunately, she had not been as perceptive as she should have been. Her three moves had left a very minor opening to her Home Stone, one that she noticed a mere Ihn after her fingers left the piece. Too late to change. But maybe he would not notice it?
Even if the Ubar had not seen the opening, Miranya's hesitation as her hands left the Rider would have caused him to examine the board anew. But he had seen the weakness, the missing link in her defenses. And he capitalized on that opportunity, forcing her to backpeddle, to try to regain a solid defense.

In the end, he seized the win.

Three wins for the Ubar. Miranya swallowed thickly, frustration glittering in her eyes. Things were not going well at all.
They would meet again in two days.

During those two days, Miranya continued her feverish study of Kaissa, seeking information on openings and defenses. She was feeling calmer, less intimidated. But, she was also realizing that the Ubar had a significant lead. Three wins.

There were only seven games remaining. He had a substantial edge.

But, there was still time to come back, to even the odds. But not much time.

As she studied this time, she made sure to get proper rest. She realized that maybe her mind had been a bit clouded, fatigued, so she had not been at the top of her abilities.

She needed a win, something to boost her confidence.

The Ubar was not worried about the match at all. He felt very confident in his abilities, even though Miranya's play in the last two games had been more promising. He also knew that he had been playing at a significant disadvantage. Without that handicap, he would have crushed her easily. Women just did not possess the necessary mindset to be experts at the game.

So for the next two days, he did not concern himself with the match. He proceeded along, busily working on matters of state. Or he spent time with some of his lovely kajirae from the Pleasure Gardens.

Chapter Four

When the time arrived for the next games, Miranya showed up a bit early and found the Ubar already present. They exchanged a few pleasantries, chatting about inconsequential matters, before beginning their next game. Miranya's mind was distracted though, thinking on just Kaissa.

Miranya had Yellow again for this new game and as soon as she made her first move, the traditional Ubar's Spearman to Ubar Five, her mind concentrated solely on the game. The Ubar's thoughts were not similarly directed in that manner. He spent much time contemplating how he would enjoy Miranya in her submission, the pleasures she would bring to him, the screams of passion he would bring forth from her.

And it was thus the Ubar's lack of concentration that got him into trouble in the mid-game. He found himself still behind in pieces and in a weak position. Miranya's Ubara and both her Tarnsmen were bearing down hard on his Home Stone. All thoughts of Miranya's nude form vanished from his mind.

It was time for him to return his full concentration to the game.

But it was too late. Miranya wisely opted for her three-move option and eliminated any defense the Ubar could possibly mount. She positioned her pieces perfectly so that her win was a foregone conclusion. Not even a Master Player could have escaped from that position. Within five forced moves, Miranya would capture his Home Stone.

Rather than play it out, the Ubar surrendered the game to her. Miranya had her first win and she was ecstatic, grinning beneath her veils. The Ubar congratulated her as he reset the board for their next game. He was mad at himself, for allowing himself to lose concentration. He rarely underestimated his opponents but had done so now. He had thus deserved to lose that game.

But he would not make that mistake again.

But, as he set up the board for the next game, he ran over the moves of their fifth game in his head. And he realized that Miranya had played decently well. It was an improvement over her past four games. She was learning to adapt to his style of play. She was making fewer and fewer mistakes. She was reacting better to his own attacks. And she was relying more on combinations, setting up opportunities for herself.

When it was time to begin the game, the Ubar once again opened with the Ubara's Gambit. Though he knew that another opening would more likely throw her game off, would give him a better chance at winning, he wished to assess her ability. He wanted to see how quickly she could learn and adapt. In the end, he knew he could win the match. But he was also very interested in her play, her intelligence, her creativity.

Miranya was pleased to see the Ubara's Gambit again. She declined the Gambit and proceeded with her defense, a variation of the Telnus Defense. Again, her mind remained focused on the game, pushing aside all other concerns. She was well rested and the joy of winning a game finally boosted her confidence.

The Ubar assumed that Miranya, like most novices, would seek the win. And his own play was geared toward that assumption. But again, he made a mistake.

Miranya knew her abilities and she knew the strength of the Ubar when he played Yellow. So, she only planned for a draw. She just wanted to prevent his win.

By the mid-game, their positions were relatively equal. The Ubar had regained a parity in pieces and thus technically he probably did possess the advantage. But Miranya was still not too worried. She was positioning herself well, trying to set up things for a draw.
By the endgame, the Ubar had both a position and material edge, though slight. He was a little more impressed with her playing, seeing a continual improvement. She was learning to adapt well and the pressures of the game were not eroding her ability.

And when Miranya finally used her three-move option, she forced a draw. And she was very happy. The Ubar again congratulated her on her success. He had realized much too late that she was trying for a draw rather than a win.

The Ubar then announced that he was withdrawing her three-move option, now that she had shown her ability, now that she had shown herself more capable. He would continue to play with two pieces down, but she did not need the additional handicap of the three-move option.

Miranya was a bit disappointed but she also realized that it was an acknowledgement of her skill and abilities. The Ubar did see her more as a threat than originally. He was obviously more impressed with her playing. And she had beaten him in a game. She smiled, quite pleased with the day.

They talked a bit, over inconsequential matters again, and then planned to meet once again in four days. Five games remained.
The Ubar had 3 wins, Miranya had 1 and they had drawn 2 times.

Miranya would have Yellow three more times which gave her an advantage. But she still needed to spend another four days in intense study. She had won a game so she knew she could do it again. And she was feeling more confident in her abilities.

When Miranya left, the Ubar went to look out the window, to see the tarn patrols off in the distance. He was not pleased with his own playing this day. Neither game should have turned out as it had. But Kaissa was as much a mental game as it was a strategic one. And he had failed to be prepared for its mental aspects today.

But he did have to admit that Miranya possessed some ability in Kaissa. She had potential though she might never become a Master. With a good instructor, she might go far.

He then thought ahead to the next five games, and how he would handle them. And he thought of Miranya, and how he would handle her once he won the wager. The Ubar still saw no other result than his ultimate win.

Following the matches, Miranya's confidence was elevated, yet she was still cautious. The Ubar had seemed distracted during the first match -- he seemed to spend more time looking at her than the board. This had unnerved her, especially the small, sly smile that tilted his lips. Quickly, she had decided that his distraction was probably feigned, his attention seemly focused on her in order to make her nervous. She resolved herself to, for the most part, ignore him, and she had been rewarded with her first win.

Despite her commendable performance, she cautioned herself against smugness. The Ubar still held a comfortable lead. Her three move option had been taken away. She knew better than to expect an easy victory from her opponent.

The next four days were spent, as many before them, consumed with the intricacies of Kaissa. She had an advantage over him, in the end: he was playing for a gain, and she was playing to prevent a loss. She would play harder, faster, her presentation would be flawless. She hoped.

Dusk and dawn were but a blur to the senses of a consumed woman. She slept
some, but her body felt the strain of her pressure.

Chapter Five

On the fourth day, Miranya arrived at the Central Cylinder early, hoping to gain a private moment before the board. Luck was not in her favor. The Ubar had already arrived. He was quieter, more focused, and she grew weary of the coming game.

They sat and arranged the board. She played Yellow, her fatigued eyes telling of her lengthy researches.

She began boldly, with the Ubara's Gambit. It was a curious route, as she was not a Master player and may not be able to pull off such an opening. But, as it seemed, the Ubar was not expecting such a move from a beginner and set his defense for another opening. He had seemingly assumed that her opening would transform into one of the easier variations.

But, while she mourned her three-move option, knowing that she could lose the game swiftly, she played harshly, mercilessly, and soon had the Ubar -- who was still developing a center defense -- in an inescapable chokehold. Her own play had been superb, one of the best games she thought she had ever plated.

His missing pieces could have saved him, but such was a tragedy of the Game. He could not mount an appropriate defense and Miranya captured his Home Stone with dizzied swiftness.

She dared not smile, fearing it would curse her good fortune. The Lady looked only to the board, fearing to lift her eyes toward the Ubar. She had a glass of diluted wine during their brief break, and the Lady Scribe was pleased. They spoke little during the break, the Ubar almost brooding.

The second game began soon after. The Ubar held Yellow, and all of Mira's instincts told her again to work only for a draw. However, Miranya wanted a win. If she emerged victorious, she would be on equal standings with the Ubar. It was too utterly appealing to stay in her daydreams. He opened simply, with the common move of Ubar's Spearman to Ubar five. She echoed the move instantly.
Grains of sand slipped through the timer.

In the end, the game came to a draw, yet again. Despite Miranya wanting to win, she wisely relented, knowing she needed to go for the draw instead. And through the narrow window, the tarn patrol have increased, due to some unknown peril. Thus, during the game, the Ubar often let his attention slide to the status of his defenses. Thus, Mira was able to force the game into a draw through some cunning, but mostly the divided attentions of the Ubar.

This did not lessen her respect for him. She knew that a city would always be more important than a woman.

He held a mere one game advantage. He spoke sternly to her -- if a threat claimed his city, he'd have little time to deal with an adventurous freewomen --and stated that they would play the next games in three days.

His exit was terse and swift.

Miranya did not acknowledge her victory. She looked to the sky with concern.

The Ubar pondered about the Kaissa match, as only three games remained. The Ubar had almost reduced Miranya's handicap again, due to her ability, but he had reluctantly left it as it was. Now, it was a challenge to his own abilities, to be able to overcome the disadvantage of missing two pieces. It was a test, an obstacle he needed to overcome.

He was sure that if he reduced the handicap any further, she would most definitely lose the wager. It would take her some time to adjust to the new conditions. And that would not be fully fair to her. And the Ubar knew that he could defeat her, even with her advantage, if he played at the top of his game.

He thought of his strategy, calculating his options. And he realized the singular advantage that he possessed, that intriguing fact that would ultimately permit him to prevail. Biology did not lie.

Chapter Six

Miranya arrived at the Kaissa room on time, and they shared some fruit juice before commencing their game. The Ubar mused to himself that she was a fascinating woman, and one who would make an exquisite slave. She was also a very skilled Scribe, an intellectual wonder. She simply needed more experience with life.

Miranya had Yellow for their first game and once again pushed her Ubar's Spearman forward. She remained with the Opening she knew best, the one that gave her the best chance of success.

The Ubar grinned as he pushed his Ubar's Physician forward, a rather unorthodox move. Miranya was puzzled over the move, remembering only vaguely a defense that began with that move. But she could not remember anything about it. She did not know what the proper response was supposed to be. So she was unsure what to do.

She finally decided to proceed forward with her Opening, to rely on basic strategy. She would not change just because of his defense, not until she was sure what he was doing. And she hoped that it would not be too late when she did find out. She had to rely on sound strategic principles.

The Ubar, though seemingly confident, actually did not know the defense all that well. In fact, he was simply taking an extreme risk with it, just trying something he knew only a few details about. He wanted to test Miranya, to see how she dealt with such unorthodoxy. He knew that he would continue to play well, but he felt he possessed enough leeway to experiment a bit, to assess Miranya more properly.
Miranya continued to play as she had, conservatively but sticking to what she knew. She reacted properly to the Ubar's attacks and she pressed forward with her own offensive. The Ubar got a bit mired in his unorthodoxy, getting behind positionally. His pieces were not developed properly and he could not afford those problems. His moves became more awkward, more responsive and less aggressive.
And Miranya pushed forward, making his position even more awkward. And in the end, quicker than any of the other games, Miranya captured his Home Stone.

It was now a tie, three wins each and three ties. Only two games remained.

The Ubar was not worried. He has intentionally taken a big risk that game and was pleased that Miranya had fared so well. She had not been ruffled by his unorthodoxy. She had played as she should, evidencing her keen potential.

Miranya was ecstatic. She had come from behind, down three wins, to tie up the match. She had a chance at winning this wager. She tried to calm herself though, as overconfidence would hurt her. She had to play each game as a single game, not thinking of the past ones. She had to play at her best.

They chatted a bit more and then began the tenth game. The Ubar decided he would play unorthodox again, knowing that, at the very least, with the advantage of Yellow, he would not lose. At worst, he might draw.

The Ubar decided on using the Ubar's Gambit, an intriguing though controversial opening. It lacked the strengths of the Ubara's Gambit but its unorthodoxy did permit some interesting variations. It often nullified the advantage of Yellow in the opening but returned that advantage in the middle game in very subtle ways. That is, provided that Red did not advance too far during the opening.

Again Miranya chose to play conservatively, to rely upon sound strategic decisions. At this point she only wanted a draw. She had the same number of wins as the Ubar. If they drew the last two games, then neither would win the wager. And maybe the Ubar would reconsider the Kaissa law anyways, once that she had proven women could play fairly well.

The opening was complex, the Ubar striving for a subtle arrangements of his pieces, setting up a strong position for the mid-game. And Miranya tried to fortify her own position, to press forward when necessary but to seek a draw. A stronger player might have tried to press the Ubar more, to force him to defend rather than permit him to develop his pieces as he wished. But Miranya only sought a draw. She respected his abilities too much to attempt a win when he was playing Yellow. She could not afford the loss.

And as they entered the mid-game, the Ubar had a strong position but Miranya had a stronger defense. The Ubar's Gambit had not permitted the Ubar to play offensively during the opening so Miranya had been able to create a formidable wall around her Home Stone. So, the Ubar began to chip at that wall, to find a way to bypass it.

And the game became a war of attrition, piece by piece falling, yet neither side prevailing. And with her piece advantage, the Ubar could do little to break the stalemate. So, in the end, he settled for a draw, which Miranya eagerly accepted.

Only one game remained. And they were tied with wins. Whoever won the next game would win the match and the wager.
And they had never discussed what would occur in case of a tie. Miranya did not wish to broach that subject now. She decided to wait to see what would happen with the final game. She knew that often Players would engage in a new eleven-game match to decide the results of a tie. She hoped that he might simply void the wager instead.

They decided to play the last game in three days. Miranya was a bit anxious as it might be the last three days of her freedom. She knew the Ubar would play at his utmost best in that final game. But, at least she possessed Yellow, which gave her the advantage. She would need to play at her best.

Once Miranya left, the Ubar sat and stared at the Kaissa board. One more game. He knew that he could win that game. Even with her advantage of playing Yellow and his loss of two pieces. He knew her playing style and he knew her weaknesses. He was an excellent judge of character, of reading a person's assets and flaws. And he was a superb Kaissa player. And he knew that the wager would weigh heavily on Miranya's mind. What woman, with her freedom on the line, would not be concerned?

But he also wondered if he should win or not. There was no question that having Miranya, naked and collared, at his feet would be pleasing. But, did he want to take away all of her freedom? Did he want to strip her of Caste and Home Stone? Should he just opt for a tie and then declare the wager void? What did he really want?

He sat there for several Ahn, considering his options.

Chapter Seven

Miranya lay carelessly on her couch, skimming a scroll detailing some more unorthodox Kaissa defenses. Despite her recent success, the wager could still be lost, and she did not trust the Ubar to play directly into her hands. The ahn was growing late. She laid the scroll aside and rose from her couch, her svelte limbs stretching the stiffness from her muscles. The Lady had abandoned her robes for the day, and as she moved toward a small trunk on the opposite end of her richly appointed chambers, the white silk of her long slip fluttered gracefully around her often hidden form.

Using a small key, she unlocked the trunk, and withdrew her journal. She sat and opened it, skimming over her last entry. The entire journal had been written in a code she devised many years ago, the key to which had long since been destroyed. She retrieved a quill and began to write.

---Tomorrow is the final Kaissa match. The recent games have given me confidence as to my abilities, yet I dread the ahn of the game. I fear, in my heart, that I was foolish for agreeing to the terms of the wager. Should I win, I've done little more than prove that a woman may be able to possess skill in a game. I will be allowed, legally, to play Kaissa, but few men would agree to play me. Why would they waste their time on such a novelty? They would underestimate my skills and not even think me worthy of a match. They may even be insulted at the suggestion. I know no other women with interest in learning the game, and certainly none who actually play.
And if I lose...---

Miranya's hand stopped writing. She drew a deep, trembling breath through her exposed lips and her eyes fluttered closed for ihn. She then continued writing.

---If I lose, I lose so much. Why did I agree to such a thing? What foolishness possessed me? I have done well for myself. I've not been coddled by a wealthy father or free companion, unlike so many women of my status. I've studied, I've worked, and my efforts have been rewarded. And I've placed all of this on the line for a game. The most distressing thing, however, is that honorable love of the game was only a small part of my decision to enter into the wager. I allowed the Ubar's words to affect me too deeply, to stir my anger and wound my pride. I allowed emotion to trump rationality. Perhaps my absurdity warrants potential enslavement.

Enslavement. To be owned. The Ubar's confidence in his ultimate victory is clear. His eyes have changed when he looks at me. They are more curious, more eager, more dangerous. Inwardly, I have delighted in his increased attention. I cannot deny his attractiveness -- he is so powerful, so wise, so strong and kind. In my life, I've found few men appealing, in this fashion. I've never found a man that interested me as a free companion, and certainly never one that I had even the briefest notion of submitting myself to. Men are teachers, mentors, associates, friends. To keep them as such, in my mind, prevents...conflict.

It prevents situations like this. My pride was wounded because the Ubar insulted me. Any other man speaking the same words would have been brushed off, his voice added to the symphony of related proclamations. But his words struck me. I proposed the initial wager because I wanted to prove myself. I wanted him to admire me. And I accepted the final wager for the same reasons.

I can only pray that the game will be in my favor tomorrow. What I've promised I may not be able to deliver.

Could I really be...---

The quill paused mid-sentence and was then set aside.

The Lady rose abruptly, her eyes narrowed in deep thought, in skeptical curiosity. Fluid movements brought her before a large, ornate mirror. She saw no slave. She saw only a woman: a lovely feminine creature with fair, fine flesh and a delicate face of large, captivating eyes, a dainty nose, elegantly defined cheekbones and a perfectly luscious mouth. She knew of her beauty, but, when shrouded in veils, but it was rarely an advantageous trait. Her head tilted somewhat, the flickers of candlelight playing mysteriously over her bewitching visage.
No.

A smug smile touched that mouth. Miranya unfastened her slip, and it slid from the graceful bones of her shoulders, over the generous swells of her breasts, past her narrow waist and around the delicious curve of her hips, the garment pooling at her feet. Still, she did not see a slave. Every inch of her skin held the fair softness of flesh never exposed to the sun or elements. She shifted a bit, mimicking the beautiful posture of a standing slave. She looked enticing, yes, but...

No.

A hand lifted, withdrawing the pins from her hair. Cascades of golden tresses, soft as silk, fell over her shoulders and flowed down behind her, reaching to the small of her back. Mira shook her hair out, feeling the curling ends of the soft mane tickling her flesh. Again, her eyes lifted to the mirror.

She gasped softly, her eyes widening in wonder.

Yes?

She took a small step forward, towards the foreign figure. As her hand lifted, the slave mirrored her action. She touched her bare throat, soft fingers trailing, with a touch as light as a whisper, down over the nape of her neck, over her right breast, half hidden in the shroud of her hair, across her nipple, suddenly as hard as a little pebble -- the sensual haze of her dreams slipping into reality -- down across her stomach, her eyes, through lusty lowered eyelashes, fixated on the mirror, fair cheeks flushed as heat pours through her body, breath trembling slightly through her parted lips, hand sliding lower still, fingertips feeling the small, soft patch of honey-colored curls nestled between her slender thighs --

No!

She ripped herself away from slave in the mirror, her eyes shining wildly with fear, her breath suddenly coming quicker. In a flurry, trembling hands gathered her hair and twisted it into a simple bun, and she slipped on a simple house robe. Lady Miranya slammed her journal closed and returned it to the chest, locking it away.

Despite the late ahn, she reopened the Kaissa scroll.

Chapter Eight

The day of the final game arrived, and Miranya was a bit tense, nervous but excited. When she sat down at the game board, Luther offered her a drink which she eagerly accepted. He gave her a goblet of ram berry juice while he sipped some cool water.

Luther than sat opposite her, the red Kaissa pieces lined up in front of him. "You may begin whenever you wish. I am ready." He said.

Miranya smiled, which now seemed to be so commonplace in her eyes. With a confident nod of her veiled head, she placed the goblet down and then, with no hesitation, moved the Ubar's Spearman to Ubar Five. Her voice held no fear as she said,  "I shall play it safe, I believe."

Luther smiled in response, quickly pushing his Ubara's Spearman to Ubara Five, offering a gambit to her. He realized that this response might throw off her game, as it was not a Defense common for beginners. He then hit the sand clock to start her own clock.

With a slow blink, Miranya carefully assessed the board. Despite his strange move, she continued with a somewhat aggressive play, boldly striking forward. It was quickly visible that she was out to win, to capture his Home Stone. She would not settle for a mere draw. She had Yellow, she had the advantage, and she intended to use it to win this wager.

Luther grinned to himself, knowing that her aggressiveness would ultimately cost her the game. He was proud of her boldness though, the courage she showed despite the fact that she was outclassed. Luther moved his Rider of the High Tharlarion forward, further developing his pieces and position. He did not fear Miranya. If he lost, he would only have defeated himself.

Miranya had decided at some point over the last few days that she could not ignore the possibility of winning. She could not sacrifice that in favor of playing it safe. She needed to prove herself, to show that women could play the Game well. She needed to impress him, to show her intelligence and abilities. Nothing less would satisfy her.

She captured several of his pieces early in the game, but at the expense of leaving her own Home Stone only ill-guarded, leaving barely enough pieces to shield it, and nothing more. Her captivating eyes, all afire, indicated her predatory nature this day. She was looking to make a kill.

Luther, despite being behind initially due to her piece advantage and that she moved first, was able to hold his own in the Opening. And as they entered the mid-game, he was still down a couple of pieces but positionally he was very strong. And he was able to starting putting significant pressure on her Home Stone, forcing her to finally draw back her attack or lose the game.

Miranya's eyes narrowed in concentration, her shoulders ever so slightly slumped, a physical reflection of the pressure of the game, the weight on her mind. Her momentum had been broken as his own aggressive play had surprised her. She had no choice but to withdraw, to solidify the defense around her Home Stone. And she realized that a win was now very unlikely for her. At best, she could hope for a draw. As long as even that was not too late.

Luther played mercilessly, exploiting each and every tiny flaw in her game. He thought of nothing but victory, ignoring even the terms of the wager. His mind was locked on capturing her Home Stone, and his pieces continued their relentless trek toward her ill defended center. His game seemed flawless, his concentration meticulous.

Miranya saw the true spirit of the Warrior within Luther at that moment, the absolute self-mastery of himself. This unsettled her and she lowered her eyes to the board, hoping to shield her worry from him. But she could not prevent her hand from trembling ever so slightly as she attempted to defend against his actions. Her moves became hesitant, and despite her delay, she began to make mistakes, small mistakes but mistakes nonetheless. And she knew that if the fear of losing her freedom was not cluttering her mind, then maybe she would not be making them, or at least make fewer of them.

Luther pushed forward his Tarnsman, angling it for a combination, his mind thinking six, maybe even seven moves ahead. He saw the chance for victory within his grasp. In two more moves, unless she somehow played quite well, she would fall into a trap and victory would be guaranteed.

Only two moves to avoid an inevitable fate.

Miranya, still playing to draw, tried to cautiously watch the board, to assess any threats. She could not look at him, as that would only make her even more nervous. Her calm resolve had been broken. And she failed to see the trap, the looming doom.

The first move is made and she did nothing to escape her fate. Luther pushed forward a Spearman and waited for her response. This was her last opportunity to delay his trap, to avoid a loss. And Luther did see a couple moves that would buy her time.

Miranya seemed to sense the weight of the moment, taking longer than normal to examine the position of the board. Finally, she moved, pushing her Physician forward two spaces. But, as her fingers left that piece, she suddenly realized her error. When she saw the Physician sitting on its new square, her eyes widened slightly, glancing up to him to try to read his eyes. She thought that perhaps the placement of the pieces was unintentional - but could it be? There was something a bit frantic lingering in her entrancing eyes. Was she reading the board correctly? Had she just sealed her doom?

Luther, his eyes remaining on the board, not looking back at her, moved his Ubara forward one square, knowing that he would now capture her Home Stone in four moves, and there was nothing that she can do to avoid it. Each of her responses was now forced. She had run out of options. She had played quite well, but she was still far too inexperienced to compete competitively with a man like Luther who was so passionate for the Game. He had many years of experience behind him, competitive experience.

Miranya, as she realized her ultimate loss, let a slow sigh escape from her hidden lips, as if releasing all of her fear, all of her tension, her worries, and the possibilities. It was over. And a most remarkable calm then settled over her, almost numbing her senses. A slow, somewhat mysterious smile crossed her lips, reaching her eyes.

And her voice, remarkably level, then spoke. "It is over."

"You are correct. Home Stone capture in Four. You cannot avoid it. Nice game." He replied, his voice low.

A bit of laughter, the bitterness almost shrouded in her ironic mirth, and she said, "I was foolish."

He replied, "You are inexperienced still in the subtleties of Kaissa. You show promise and potential but need training. I have been playing since I was a child."

This did not soothe Miranya's mind. She could not yet bring her eyes to him. She leaned slightly back into the chair and said quietly, "Yes."

He pondered his next words carefully, as well as his next action. He had thought long about this moment, tempted in part to waive the wager, to call it void. She had done well during the match, showing potential. It would be fascinating to see how skilled she could become. But then he also did not want to turn down such a tempting woman either. As his kajira, it would also be fascinating to see how she would develop.

"Lady Miranya..." he said softly.

Her initial calmness began to wear off. She looked around the room, at the damned board, carefully looking at everything but the Ubar. She inhaled sharply. "Yes?"

"You have lost the Game and thus the Match. The wager is lost as well.

She cleared her throat, and beneath the robes and the veils her every lithe muscle tensed in fear. "I understand."

And she submitted to him.

The Lady Miranya was no more.

She was now Melisande, a mere kajira.

"In owning a woman…as in the game, one must seize the initiative. One must force through an attack that is overwhelming and shattering. She must be crushed, devastated."
(Hunter of Gor, p.153-4)