Snakes and Ladders

His giddiness had cleared due to the slight breeze that kissed the back of his neck, and as far as he could see the ground was a series of bizarre splashes of colour that seemed random and indistinct. They stretched away in every direction and the furthest ones he could see appeared to be squares.

It was like a grotesque, child‘s version of the countryside, he realised. Like tiny fields, all of differing colours rather than just grass, mustard or turned earth. The corners of each one were marked by vast oak trees that looked dark and aged, vast branches spreading sideways.

Good shelter from the rain, he thought and momentarily relaxed until he was jolted back to reality.

(...)

The mandarin laughed again, this time notably more cruelly. 'No, you pitiful creature, not dreaming. But you may find this a nightmare. Observe.‘

And Sir Henry nearly lost his balance as the ground shot away beneath him... No! No, he was growing taller, the trees receding until they were no larger than mushrooms at his feet.

He could see for miles now and the fields were indeed tiny coloured squares covering the flat lands. The tops of the trees formed familiar shapes at the top corners of each field.

Numbers.

'Do you understand now, Sir Henry?‘

Sir Henry shook his head. He did not want to understand.

The mandarin shrugged. 'It doesn‘t really matter, my friend.

Understanding I do not require. Sport, I do.‘ He pointed forwards. 'We are standing on Square 1. Observe the tree below us.‘

Indeed, the branches formed the Arabic figure 1. Those on the tree on the next field, a 2, and so on. In the furthest distance, he could see field 100.

'As I said, something is missing.' The mandarin held out his hand, palm upturned. 'Gaylord LeFevre?‘ he called.

A puff of purple smoke appeared upon his palm, and re-formed into the shape of a man. He wore a green baize jacket, a top hat, chequered waistcoat and a long moustache. 'Monsieur LeFevre joined me on his way to New Orleans in 1846,‘ the mandarin said by way of explanation. 'He shared your passion for the colourful cards. I liked his steamboat but, alas, not his manners.‘ He addressed LeFevre directly. 'Something is missing, Monsieur. Regardez-vous.’

LeFevre, clearly not at all affected by either his abrupt arrival or the gargantuan size of his master, turned and looked.

'Apologies, Lord,‘ he drawled. 'I will get it sorted out immediately.‘

LeFevre was replaced by the purple smoke, which then withdrew completely into the mandarin‘s palm once more.

Before Sir Henry could speak, his companion gestured forward with his head. 'Look, Rugglesthorpe, look.‘

And one by one, each coloured square of land was suddenly linked to another by either a giant ladder or a green serpent that hissed and wriggled.

'My God, man... snakes and ladders!‘

The mandarin clapped his hand. 'Exactly. Observe.‘

The ladders shimmered and became snakes, and vice versa.

As Sir Henry watched this happened at irregular intervals, and on different squares. 'It makes the game more interesting, don‘t you think? One moment, square sixty-eight is the head of a snake. But by the next roll of a die it becomes the foot of a ladder. You see, Sir Henry, it is quite possible to win. Not very probable, I‘ll admit, but certainly possible. I have to take a slight risk myself, or life would be boring for all of us. So, you have the opportunity to win. And go home safe and sound.‘

***

Divided Loyalties, Chapter 2