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Updated: May 4, 2025
It was with difficulty that Bright-Wits controlled his rage; while Garrofat continued in oily tones, "You have no doubt heard, among other things, that the Great Rajah Onalba was very fond of playing at games of skill. Now it is only just that you should prove your title to be his successor by performing some of them. On the wall beside you hang five shields, each smaller than the other.
"My dear Bright-Wits," he chattered, "I have come to crave a boon at your hands. I want the assistance of your clever wits in solving a little puzzle over which I have spent hours without arriving at a solution. This puzzle is in reality another of the games with which the Great Onalba was fond of amusing himself.
In a voice that rang through the great hall the stranger commanded silence. Then tearing the parchment open he read the amazing decree which Onalba had written thereon. "This decree, I, Onalba, Rajah of Parrabang, give to my people. Let all hearken, and obey these my instructions.
Let the guards drag from our sight these wretches whose fat carcasses are to make a banquet for the royal beasts in the pits beneath the palace." Terror now blanched the faces of the fallen conspirators. "It is a lie," they screamed in concert. "Onalba is dead." "Look then, and believe," cried the stranger. Throwing the robe from before his face, Onalba, the Rajah, stood before them.
You must always move forward, however, and a move once made cannot be withdrawn. Few have ever even seen this one of the games of Onalba, and none but he have ever succeeded in mastering it. Do you think you could solve this little puzzle, my dear Bright-Wits? I am dying to find out just how it is done."
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