Triad
Excerpted from: Tales of A Hoosier Boy and Selected Works by C.G. Kellerman                  Home

Most of the guests had arrived and through the large room party members formed small groups. A dozen conversations murmured in harmony with clinking of glasses and ice. Chandeliers graced the ceiling and rich tapestries adorned opposite walls. The service-ware on the tables were of the finest silver and the table cloths were created from the best imported lace. Huge oak doors on one side of the room opened into a luxurious den, complete with book filled shelves, fireplace and bearskin rug. In the den stood half a dozen guests that had spilled over from the main room. In the center of the den, at a table inlaid with hand carved Oriental stone, sat Paul.
Hurriedly entering the main room from the foyer, John picked his way through the guests, carrying under his arm what appeared to be a flat board. In his hand were two, six inch by six inch black packets that gave no clue as to their contents. His other hand apologetically touched the rim of his glasses and his head nodded request for excusal as he made his way to the den. "Ah, John, I see you have it." said Paul as John entered. "Shall we begin?"
John strode to the table at which Paul sat and seated himself at the opposite side. He placed the packets and board on the table, the latter of which he unfolded. The board was hinged and , once laid open, appeared as one large piece. Made of ordinary hardwood, the board measured twenty four inches by twenty four inches; its surface was interlaced with black vertical lines which caused the board to have eight squares along each border or sixty four squares entirely.
The board bore no marks or inscriptions save for the intersecting lines. John positioned the board squarely between Paul and himself and handed one of the black packets to Paul. Both now opened the contents between themselves and the board. Out of the packets came small black cardboard configurations; foreign letters, numerals and others of a strange and unknown design. Each man arranged the cardboard pieces in front of him so as to easily identify each piece but no specific order was made in the arrangement. Some of the guests in the den, drawn by curiosity, moved to the table where the two men busied themselves in pre-game preparation.
"Well, what have we here?" queried a bewhiskered gentleman as he swirled the ice in his drink.
"Triad." said Paul, placing his elbows on the table and embracing his chin with the palms of his hands. He and John now stared fixedly at the board between them.

"Triad?" said another man as the others in the room came close to the table. "Never heard of it. Is it a game?"
"Yes, a game." said Paul, not taking his gaze from the board.
John, without taking his eyes from the board, pulled from his pocket a handkerchief, removed his glasses and began a methodical rubbing of the lenses. He replaced the handkerchief, fixed the glasses once again upon the brim of his nose and in a look of absolute concentration, picked up one of the black pieces lying in front of him and placed it on a square four rows toward the center of the board and three rows from its right side.
"The Omega!" cried Paul, relieving his hands of their burden. "Opening gambit, Brofsky, nineteen thirty two."
John remained silent as Paul now picked up a black piece, the Russian letter B, and placed it on a square two rows toward the center of the board and three rows form his right side of the board.
"Well, what kind of game is it?" asked the bewhiskered man, leaning forward for closer examination, "What's the object?"
"That would take some time to explain." said Paul as John silently picked up a Roman numeral two, placing it five rows from his end of the board and two rows from his right side.
"Give us a hint." said a newcomer from the main room. "What do the pieces represent?"
"That," said Paul, interrupting himself to place the number three two rows toward the center of the board and two rows from his left side, "would take some time to explain also. You see, Triad is an ancient and little known game. Its lineage is traced back to the most aged Chinese dynasties and forms of the game were uncovered in the tombs of the Egyptian Pharaohs."
Paul's explanation stopped as he witnessed John's placement of an unknown design two rows toward the center of the board and three rows from the left side. More guests had arrived from the main room and were clustered around the table.
"Go on, Paul." said a woman standing behind him.
"You see," continued Paul, "each piece has nearly a hundred meanings alone; depending on when they are placed on the board, by whom, and their relationship to the other pieces on the board. In this game the key is three and to win the game one must present a successful double offensive to one defense of his opponent. Thus two to one, or Triad. The trick is not to get caught, or not to let your opponent move you into a situation where, by strategically placing certain pieces at the outset, he can place you in a double offensive status to a single defensive status as the placing of the pieces eventually restricts your mobility."
 "Paul." said John, not taking his eyes from the board.
"Yes, yes." said Paul, now taking a figure in the form of a devil's trident and placing it four squares toward the center of the board and three squares from his right side.
Quite an assemblage had now gathered around the table until only a few remained in the main room. Desiring to know what brought her guests to cluster about the table in the den, the hostess now entered, ironically followed by those remaining in the main room. She slithered her way through the guests that stood three deep around the table and addressed the gentlemen seated.
"Well, John and Paul," she said, forcing a smile. "I see you've taken it upon yourselves to change the arrangement of this evening's entertainment."
"I'm sorry, Emily," Paul replied, "but John is leaving for Boston tomorrow and I shan't have a chance to play for some time. You see, there are only one hundred and forty one players of Triad in the whole world, of which John and I are two, I'm proud to say."
"I see." replied the hostess icily.
But she, like the others, remained transfixed as John and Paul engaged in the mysterious conflict. Guests would murmur as either player placed a piece on the board or would tense as John or Paul would during a crucial move. At one time when Paul's behavior signaled an almost inevitable defeat and defeat was averted, the group bodily sighed relief. Men loosened their ties; women shifted their feet but no one took their eyes from the combatants. They remained rooted as John and Paul placed the mysterious yet meaningless pieces on the board. Sweat appeared on John's forehead. Paul silently signaled to have his drink replenished. Players and spectators were hypnotically absorbed in the match. During a silent moment when it had been some time since either player had moved, the bewhiskered man chuckled softly and muttered, "I get it now." but swishing his now empty glass and shoving his idle hand into his pocket, returned a perplexed gaze to the action on the table.
The game and the evening wore on. Finally, as almost the entire board was covered with the strange figures, John emphatically placed the black cat figure two rows toward the center of the board and three rows from his right side. Giving a start, Paul half rose from his chair, sank down again and solemnly laid his forehead upon the table.
"Sortov, nineteen forty one!" declared John, resting back in his chair and again cleaning his glasses.
For a few moments all was silent when the hostess, as if suddenly remembering, sighed, "Well, shall we have some refreshments?"
Paul received a few heartfelt pats on the back as the guests repaired to the main room. For a moment the hostess remained and addressed Paul and John.
"A very interesting match, gentlemen. Perhaps now you can relieve the strain of combat with a pleasing repast."
"No," said Paul, rising, "It was a dismal defeat for me and now I must go home and enter the results in my journal as the rules stipulate. I'm sorry, Emily, but the match has taken a great deal from us both."
"Of course," replied the hostess sympathetically as John began collecting the parts of the game. "To home and rest, and John, good fare on your trip to Boston."
John kissed her hand, he and Paul excusing themselves and bidding good evening to the guests. They exited through the foyer and once outside, paused together to grasp the fresh night air.
"Good match." said John, slapping Paul on the back.
"Yes, quite." said Paul.
They moved off together down the drive to a single sedan. Entering on either side, they both chose to sit in the front, seeming not to notice the man clothed in dark garb that hid in the shadowy back seat. John pressed the engine to life, swung the auto out of the drive and moved at a moderate pace down the road.
"Well?" said Paul, now turning to the dark figure in the rear. The man in the back seat leaned forward and opening a small black pouch, poured its contents onto the seat between John and Paul.
"Exquisite," said Paul, examining the collection of jewelry and precious stones, "do you think anyone heard you?"
"Not with everyone in the den. Nobody moved out of there for over an hour and a half. By the way," questioned the man in dark clothing, "who won the game?"
"We did." said Paul.

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