CHAPTER 27

Richard was growing ever more concerned. He had expected that at one of the games he would see his chance. But after Jagang and Kahlan had come to the first Ja'La match a dozen days before, the emperor had not again shown up to watch a game.

Richard was frantic with worry over the reason. He tried not to think about what Jagang might be doing to Kahlan, and yet he couldn't keep himself from imagining the worst.

Sitting chained to the wagon, surrounded by a ring of guards, there was not much Richard could do about it. Despite how desperately he wanted to act. he had to use his head and look for the right opportunity. It had always been a risk that a good opportunity might not come along and then he would be forced to act, but doing something out of frustration alone was not likely to accomplish anything except maybe ruin any chance he would otherwise have of getting the opportunity he needed. Still, waiting was driving him crazy.

As sore as he was from the Ja'La match that day, he longed to lie down and get some rest. He knew, though, that his anxiety was going to keep him from getting much sleep, just as it had kept him from getting sleep for days. He was going to need the sleep, though, because the next day was their most important game yet-a game that he hoped would get him to the opportunity he was looking for.

He glanced up when he heard the soldier coming with their evening meal. As hungry as Richard was, even the usual hard-boiled eggs sounded good. The soldier, pulling the small cart he always used to haul their food, made his way through the ring of guards around the captive members of Richard's team. The soldiers gave the man only a cursory look. The wheels of the cart squeaked with a familiar rhythm as the man plodded across the hardscrabble ground. He stopped in front of Richard.

"Hold out your hands," he said as he picked up a knife and started sawing away on something in his cart.

Richard did as he was told. The man lifted something from the cart and tossed it to Richard. To his surprise, it was a hefty slice of ham.

"What's this? A last good meal before tomorrow's fateful game?"

The man lifted the handles on his cart. "Supplies came in. Everyone eats."

Richard stared at the soldier's back as he wheeled his cart up the row to feed the other men. Not far away, Johnrock, his face and body covered with the network of lines in red paint, whistled with satisfaction to find himself getting something other than eggs. This was the first time since they'd been in camp that they had been given any quantity of meat. Up until now they had usually been fed eggs. Sometimes they'd been given stew with precious few chunks of lamb. Once it had been beef stew.

Richard wondered how supplies had gotten through to the encampment. The D'Haran army was supposed to stop any supplies from reaching the Order's army. Starving Jagang's men was their only real chance to stop them.

If Richard hadn't already been worried enough, the thick slice of ham in his hand represented a grave new concern. He supposed that it only made sense that an occasional supply convoy would get through. With food running low, this resupply had been timely.

The Old World was a big place. Richard knew that there was no way that the D'Haran army could cover the whole countryside. On the other hand, he wondered if the ham he was holding could be a sign that things weren't going so well for General Meiffert and the men he had taken south.

Johnrock scooted closer, dragging his chain behind. "Ruben! We get ham! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Being free would be wonderful. Eating well as a slave is not my idea of wonderful."

Johnrock's face sagged a little, then brightened. "But being a slave eating ham is better than being a slave eating eggs, don't you think?"

Richard wasn't in the mood to discuss it. "I guess you have a point."

Johnrock grinned. "I thought so too."

In the gathering gloom of dusk the two of them ate in silence. Savoring the ham, Richard had to admit to himself that Johnrock did indeed have a point. He'd almost forgotten how good something other than eggs could be. This, too, would help give him and his team strength. They were going to need it.

Johnrock, chewing a big mouthful of ham, scooted just a little closer. He swallowed and then sucked juice off his fingers.

''Say, Ruben, is there something wrong?"

Richard glanced over at his big right wing man. "What do you mean?"

Johnrock pulled off a strip of meat. "Well, you didn't do so good today."

"We won by five points."

Johnrock looked up from under his thick brow. "But we used to win by more."

"The competition is getting tougher."

Johnrock shrugged with one shoulder. "If you say so, Ruben." He Thought it over a moment, clearly not satisfied. "But we won by more points against that one big team . . . back a few days. Remember? The ones who called us names and started the fight with Bruce before the game even started."

Richard remembered the team. Bruce was the new left wing man, replacing the original man, who had been killed during the game Jagang and Kahlan had been at. Richard had at first worried that a regular Imperial Order soldier would not do as well serving under a captive point man, but Bruce had risen to the occasion.

On the day Johnrock was talking about, the other team's wing man had called the regular soldiers on Richard's team names for serving under a captive. Bruce had answered the insults by calmly walking over and breaking the man's arm. The fight that ensued had been ugly but it had been quickly broken up by the referee.

"I remember. What of it?"

"I think they were tougher than the team today and we beat them by eleven points."

"We won today's match. That's what matters."

"But you told us how we must crush all opposition if we are to get to play the emperor's team."

Richard took a deep breath. "You all did good, Johnrock. I guess I just let everyone down."

"No, Ruben-you haven't let us down." Johnrock grunted a laugh and smacked the side of Richard's shoulder with the back of his big hand. "Like you say, we won. If we win tomorrow then we play the emperor's team."

If nothing else, Richard was counting on Jagang at least showing up to watch his own team play for the camp championship. Surely, he would never miss seeing that game.

Commander Karg had told Richard that the emperor was well aware of their team's growing reputation. Richard worried about why Jagang hadn't come to see for himself. Richard had thought that the man would want to size up the likely challengers to his team and so would attend at least the last few games before the final match.

"Don't worry, Johnrock. We're going to beat that team tomorrow and then we're going to get to play the emperor's team."

Johnrock shot Richard a lopsided grin. "And then, when we win, we get our choice of a woman. Snake-face promised us."

Richard chewed ham as he watched the man covered in designs meant to increase strength and power intertwined with symbols of aggression and conquest.

"There are more important things than that."

"Maybe so, but what other rewards are there for us in life?" Johnrock's grin returned. "If we win against the emperor's team, we get a woman."

"Have you ever thought that your reward might be nothing but a terrifying nightmare for the woman you choose?"

Johnrock frowned, staring at Richard a moment. In silence, he went back to eating ham.

"Why would you say that?" Johnrock finally asked, unable to contain his annoyance. "I wouldn't hurt a woman."

Richard glanced over at the man's sour expression. "What do you think of the camp followers?"

"The camp followers?" Johnrock, surprised by the question, scratched his shoulder as he considered. "Most of them are ugly old hags."