There was a gravel road, and it led to three directions. Next to the northern fork sitting cross legged on fresh green grass was a Roman centurion. He was fiddling with the straps of his gladius. It was a memento from his time in Hispania. The strap holding it to his belt had worn through and snapped off.
"Lovely day for it," a voice said.
"For what?" the centurion asked. He did not raise his eyes from the gladius. The broken strap was irritating him.
"Anything at all, really. That is a cute little sword."
"Just a souvenir. My spatha does all the hard work," the centurion said as he patted the long blade at his side. it had a disctinctive rounded tip.
"A cavalry sword."
"How would you know that?"
"I used to be in one."
The centurion looked up.
There was a hand in front of his face. There were odd dice resting on the palm. Beyond the palm was the face of a confidence man. That was the only description he could come up with that fit. A trickster.
"A game of dice?"
"Can I examine the dice first?"
"I don't see why not. There."
They looked like animals. But very strange ones.
"What's this?"
"An elephant."
"You are Athenian?"
"Good ear. Yes."
"Well listen, Athenian. An ἐλέφας does not have three trunks."
"That one does."
"What does it mean?"
"Just implements of a game. Artistic flair."
"Flair? An elephant with three trunks, a leopard with three pairs of legs, a swan with three beaks, and a.. I don't
know what that is."
"I wondered as well."
"Not by you then?"
"I can't even whittle."
"They're wood?"
"That was my guess. Not enough weight for stone or marble. Trust me."
"On that I will." The centurion winked.
"So. You won't play."
"I didn't say that. What would we wager?"
"Your weapons for my horse. I am without, as are you."
"My horse died of fever. Yours looks healthy enough. I accept. Hmm. These are shaped as common dice. I through VI. Best of three?"
"Canis loses straight. One Venus wins."
"Agreed. But the fourth die?"
"Leave it on the grass. I have no mind for tricks today. You go first."
The centurion glanced at the trickster. His eyes held nothing special. The centurion shrugged and threw the dice.
The fourth dice jumped right in. There were III, III, V and VI on the grass.
"What the? No mind for tricks! I'll show you tric.." but his spatha halted before the movement even began. The trickster had a look of sincere amazement. He was staring at the numbers. The centurion prided himself on his ability to read people. It kept him alive. He trusted this man. For the moment.
"How did..? What happened?" mumbled the trickster.
"I threw the three. It joined them."
"Why would it do that?"
"Where did you get them?"
"My dead father. They were on his neck by a pouch."
"Hmm. A practise throw?"
"Go ahead."
The centurion moved the fourth die aside and threw the three. II, II, IV.
"It didn't move."
"Did we dream it? We must have. Or the wind moved it? They are very light."
"Hmm."
"Alright. We continue. My turn."
The trickster cast the dice upon the green. I, II, III, III.
They both jumped upright.
"It did it again! I threw the three like you."
"I saw. Peculiar."
"Still.. if that is all it does.. a win for you. We continue."
To be continued.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
