"But what if a place called The Ship showed several crewmembers aboard the vessel painted on the sign?"
"That, Gord, would absolutely be irrelevant to the game. No score!"
"Hmmm ..." said the young thief, feeling a bit foolish but still highly suspicious that he was being duped. "How about a game or a race? Either can have legs as part of them."
"A point I can concede. I shall leave it up to you whether or not to score legs for the occurrence of such signs — providing, naturally, that nothing indicating the contrary appears on the sign in question. If a tavern was called Chequers and showed a game of that sort, or The Game and showed chess, chequers, or some other game having no legs of play, then no score, obviously. In other cases I would allow scoring of two legs. If you wish."
"I do wish it," said Gord, feeling any point was a victory after the rude handling Twistbuck had given him in this matter. That concluded their discussion and the evening.
It was high noon on Starday. Gord and Twistbuck were at a six-point intersection in the Low Quarter. Chert was there to assist in keeping count tn case of disagreement, although the university don also had a bit of parchment and quill to mark totals. Gord was pleased that his comrade was there, for marks could be added or forgotten in the excitement of play. The young thief had selected the site with care. He knew the drinking places for a mile in any direction, and when turns were made he would be aware of what lay ahead. He would then have several choices of direction and would choose the route that promised him the highest gain. It looked to be a solid win, and Gord was wondering if Twistbuck's earnings would be sufficient to pay the losses he would incur when the total was discovered.
"You count first, and what route would you like to take?" the professor asked Gord.
"I believe we should follow that route," he replied, pointing to the northeast. They walked up Tosspot Lane and almost immediately came to a small tavern.
"The Blue Elf. I score two." Gord said with artificial disappointment. It was one of the least desirable shops around, but he knew what came next, in any of the optional directions.
"Let's continue along this route for now," the professor said. They followed the curve of the lane uphill and soon came upon another sign.
The Castle. Pity. I don’t have any legs at all, and it's now your turn again, Gord."
The young thief whistled as they walked along. Two signs down, two and twenty to go, and an intersection lay ahead. "I say we go right along Uskbarrel Road," he informed the others, and headed off due east thereon. Soon he came to the place he knew was there. "What luck!" Gord called happily to the pair trailing him. "Here's the Stag & Wolves, and I note that there are fully four of the latter painted on the sign too! Twenty legs for me then, plus the two before. I lead two and twenty to naught, I believe."
Twistbuck nodded glumly, but then pointed to a narrow opening to the left. "There is a new intersection, and I choose to follow it" He peered nearsightedly at a small, filthy plaque high above the brick wall of the building whose shoulder stood next to the passage. "Rag Alley. It says. Let us see what lies along this way."
Gord was disconcerted, for he'd missed this narrow place. No help for it now. There was a dingy drinking house there too, but it didn't help the professor at all.
"It is a place called The Crock," he lamented, holding his head. "I seem to be most unfortunate this day!"
"Cheer up, good don." Gord said with merriment oozing from his every pore, "for such ill luck must surely change." He still led the way, and very soon the alley debouched on a broader thoroughfare, a street named Felbo Close. Gord had never seen or heard of it, but it didn't matter. It ended to the left, so he had no real option but to turn right, and they were walking eastward again. "Does that count as a choice?" he inquired.
"Yes, any intersection is counted, but what matter? It is now my choice at the next joining, but your sign comes next"
It turned out that the next place was a tavern named Rose in Ice. It was irritating for he had hoped to build his lead further, but twenty-two was still commanding.
"I say! My turn, and what do I have but The Hungry Bear! Four, and your lead is cut to only eighteen legs, my boy!"
There was a very little triumph, even though the place stood on a corner, and Twistbuck opted to continue along toward the east. Gord was up again in both sign and intersection direction, and he knew this area now. "A crossroads!" he said as happily as the don had exclaimed when he scored the four count. "Let us turn to the right here, and see what lies southward along Hothand Street." He knew very well and soon added eight legs for coming upon the inn of the Double Dragon. He led by six and twenty now. Chert was beginning to get a little agitated. Gord was not supposed to be enjoying this little exercise.
A mile farther, and seven signs passed, Gord had scored a total of ten more legs to the professor's two. That gave him a round six and thirty, less Twistbuck's mere six, for a lead of fully thirty legs! The poor professor was going to lose the equivalent of six hundred bronze zees, thirty silver nobles, at this rate! Even the fact that they had passed out of the Low Quarter and into the Halls District didn't trouble Gord now. Chance dictated a win of from twenty to forty legs in his favor. Chert was not at all pleased.
The Avenue of Fountains was not a place for drinking, and Twistbuck had the option of direction at the next intersection. He selected Scrivener's Crescent, which curved off southeastward. The professor did not add to his score when they came upon Iggy's inn. Gord was pleased to see that there was a tavern a little farther along with a sign showing a wispy maiden in green and brown garb. "I score another two for The Dryad," he noted reflectively, not bothering to name the lead he now held.
"What miserable luck I am having today," Twist-buck lamented in earnest. "Now you are up by thirty-two legs, I have no idea what direction to take," he added miserably, indicating the lane that ran into the crescent at an odd angle. "Well," he said in a resigned manner, "I don’t wish to go back to the fountain area again, so I guess I choose Haven Lane for my next route." They walked some distance, and then Twistbuck clapped his hands in glee.
"My luck is changing!" he caroled. "This is my sign and I count two legs!"
"How so, Twistbuck?" Gord demanded. The tavern had only a piece of metal above its door, a chime to be struck to indicate meals or some like event.
"Surely that is an iron triangle, is it not?" When the young thief concurred, the professor nodded and said firmly. Triangles are figures composed of two legs!"
"How do you figure that, or are you beginning to grasp at straws here, professor?" Gord was more than a little perplexed.
Twistbuck grinned. "In my lexicon the legs of a triangle are the two sides, as distinguished from the base or the hypotenuse. Therefore I score two, and your lead is cut to thirty!"
Gord shrugged and let the new totals stand. After all, he was still incredibly ahead. They zigged and zagged and passed two more establishments that had permissible signs. Gord's was Web and Spiders for twenty-four, since the signs depicted three of the arachnids; Twistbuck's was the Xorn and Gems. Since that creature had three legs, the total lead now enjoyed by the young thief was fifty-one.
Gord began to feel a bit sorry for the unfortunate professor, for he could never afford to pay over such a sum as that Chert had long since begun to trudge along in a dejected manner. He was, of course, feeling sorry for himself, but Gord took his demeanor as an indication that Chert felt the same way he did about taking such great advantage of the professor. But Gord shrugged off his pity abruptly; after all, a game was a game, and old Twistbuck was responsible for his own decisions.
"Perhaps we should stop where we are," Gord ventured, for he glimpsed a sign ahead that would aid Twistbuck. If tt were counted. Gord's lead would be sharply cut.
"Never!" the fellow shot back. "How dare you attempt to cheat me of my rightful opportunity to win?"
"As you wish, as you wish," Gord reassured the angry professor. "I simply thought it might prove expedient considering the high losses you might suffer, but I will abide by the number of a round dozen each, so set when we began."
"As well you should!" Twistbuck countered, "and I make my new score to be up by a figure of twenty-four, for there is the tavern called Six Mastiffs!"
"That reduces my lead to but seven and twenty — slender indeed," Gord replied dryly. Twistbuck ignored the sarcasm.
"You are next, and it is your choice of direction as well," he told his opponent flatly.
"Then let us follow Harper Street here," said Gord. He had been in this section of Clerksburg before, and he thought he remembered a tavern that would seal his victory and teach the pedant a sharp lesson. Sure enough, they came upon the place after a short walk. It was called The Loyal Company. Twistbuck started to protest loudly, but Gord pointed to the illustration on the sign. Although only some of their legs were shown, the sign clearly depicted a score of men. "Forty legs, I am certain, and a lead of sixty-six. You have two signs to go, and I one," he added with a small but triumphant smile.
"So I am foredoomed, it appears. No matter, we shall proceed straight along this route to the next establishment"
Had he noted the sign ahead? Gord thought so, but it didnt matter. "You gain six for The Blind Basilisk," Gord said smugly, "cutting my lead down to only sixty even with that coup." Twistbuck started to say something, then clamped his mouth shut. The young thief stole a glance ahead. They were coming to another crossroads, and far ahead he could make out another sign. "I approve of your selection, sir don. I too shall march straight ahead. . . . What's this? The Hornets' Nest! Do I see ten of those angry insects there? Yes, I do! Sixty legs plus sixty makes a lead of one hundred and twenty, Twistbuck, and you have but a single sign left to count!" Chert moaned under his breath, and Gord continued to taunt his opponent. "Shall we end the charade now? I'll be kind, allowing you twenty off the total I have, so that you need pay over but a hundred good nobles."
"Your generosity is monumental, my young fellow, but I prefer to allow the game to run its full course. I shall take my last sign no matter what the outcome, and I shall also choose direction here. I think we will pass down inkwell Lane to close the game."
A little time later they came to the end of the passage. There was a tavern there, and Gord turned pale at the sight of its sign of three red centipedes. A very clear depiction.
It was almost two weeks before Gord would exchange anything approaching friendly conversation with his huge companion. In fact, for several days he wouldn't speak to Chert at all, and thereafter he had merely grunted replies when necessary to do so. Finally, the pain of having lost a hundred, and eighty nobles, almost four gold orbs, wore off sufficiently for the young thief to resume a semblance of his former swagger and assurance.
"You noted, didn't you, that never once during the course of playing that stupid game did we encounter a felon or ruffian? They feared to accost us, for it was evident that I was there to protect the scholar from harm," said the thief.
Chert flexed his arm, looked at Gord, and said nothing.
"Of course, your being along as a backup was of benefit too. But tell me, did you set the whole thing up?"
"Gord, I am thunderstruck at such a suggestion," the barbarian said, shaking his head in hurt disbelief. "You insisted on going to meet Twistbuck and you alone determined you'd play against him!"
"True, true. Still, I am troubled. There has to be a logical explanation for the professor's victory over one with my capabilities. It just doesn't make sense. Do you know what position the man holds at Counts College?"
"He professes."
"Of course." the young thief snapped irritably, "but what does Twistbuck profess?"