Windborne Memories

CHAPTER II - Knights & Orders

The next time I saw the old man, a week had passed. Spring was here, and I had come back with my father from our hunt; except, only his shoulders were burdened with venison. I had missed my kill. When we arrived back, mother had the milk gallons already piled and placed on the barrow. I was exhausted, somewhat demotivated from a missed kill, but I was keen to see the old man once more. Father headed to the storeroom beside the barn and secured the elk on a hook to be skinned, smoked, dried, and salted. You could tell from his consistent perspiration, his damp hair, his gasps, and heaves how exhausted he was, especially since he looked as though he had endured severe pain. The elk was enormous, the biggest I had ever seen. We had ventured across Windborne Valley where the stream led to the wilderness and had walked for hours. My sisters, Ava, Isabella, and Mia were each occupied with chores: one assembled coal and wood, another tended our livestock, as the other made butter and cheese from the excess milk.

Once more, I delivered the milk to others first and saved the old man's for last. I placed the barrow beside the barn and carried his milk across the milelong cobbled path by hand; waving the other to faraway familiar faces who acknowledged me, also. When I arrived, the old man laid asleep in his porch with his hound laid beside him wide awake. He took a moment while I stood in silence until his eyes opened; must have been instinctive, like when another's gaze pierces our senses.

'Finally, boy! You've took your time!' the old man exclaimed, leaning forward to rearrange his position.

'We deliver our rounds once a week, sir.'

'I see,' the old man said as he rose from his chair, 'and how much do you remember from our last game?'

I paused a moment, 'Mostly all, but I'd like to know more about the horse-shaped pieces.'

'Well, lad,' he smiled one cheek into a crease, 'what better way than to show you?'

We faced each other with the chess board in between; mulled wine laid steaming beside us, biscuits beside the cups. The hearth crackled, beside which his old hound who had followed us in now laid asleep. Leo locked his eyes with mine.

'When I showed you the pawn, I failed to mention his worldly purpose, lad.'

'Worldly purpose?'

'Yes, boy; worldly purpose,' he enunciated.

'You see, pawns resemble soldiers,' he moved his middle white pawn forward two squares, 'they protect, but also serve as sacrifices.'

He leaned back, and sipped his drink while I mimicked his move, my pawn meeting his.

'The knights, however, are military commanders, horseback riders: masters in chivalry, honour, and valour.' He hopped his knight ahead above his pawns. 'Their unique manoeuvres have led master strategists to conduct various schemes across history.'

For a moment, I digested his words, realising how each piece served a purpose unique to its own design. Once more I mimicked, leaping my knight over to be placed above my pawns. Leopold smiled and continued.

'This, boy, is the bishop,' he said as he slid his round headed piece diagonal three spaces from where an opening had been made. 'Bishops are religious leaders: determined, expansive, implicit, who forever pursue vulnerable prey in crosswise lines.'

As I mirrored his move once more with my bishop, he moved his corner pawn up two spaces, 'You should remember to never underestimate any piece,' and waited for me to mimic him once more. So, I did, and slid my corner pawn up two spaces to meet his.

'Now comes the rook,' and moved his castle shaped corner piece up behind his pawn. 'Rooks are economic rulers: bold, expansive, and pervasive. They're arbiters behind whole rows; especially when a game has neared the end, when a king can be conquered.'

Once more, I mirrored his move. Leopold moved his same knight and took out my pawn which bordered his. Hence another mimicry, he moved his other corner pawn up two spaces; but I decided to use what I had learned. I had moved the pawn beside my king up by one square, preparing to take his knight, when he swept his crown headed piece beside his own king diagonal and placed mine in check.

'This here, is the queen. The most powerful piece on this whole board.'

'The most powerful?' I questioned in wonder, amazed, and dazzled, 'but, what about the king?'

'Oh, no, no, no, lad,' Leopold chuckled, 'kings are more useless than pawns.'

'Then why are they so important?'

'Kings are pawns, only less, who due to rank and status, have soldiers' lives sacrificed in their stead, but never seem to serve any other purpose.'

With such words, Leopold had absorbed me even more. I was spellbound.

'This is why kings have queens stand beside them,' and rubbed his chin as he muttered under his breath, 'powerless creatures who always seem to have armies revolve around them.'

His words hypnotised me. Chess seemed to resemble wars; and wars were won under decisive calculations, or so I assumed. To win, you had to manipulate your opponent, and to manipulate, an awareness towards your opponent's mind seemed essential. No piece was ever moved uncalculated or without reason. Should it seem so, then there were manipulative reasons.

Like before, several hours passed; as would several more had his hound not woken and whimpered to be fed. Through his blurred windows, I could see the night had long approached, and I was late once more. 'I must go home now,' I said, rising from my chair, heading towards the door, 'but I will bring more milk soon.'

'Very well,' Leopold replied, raising from his chair, also, 'and I shall teach you about one final piece when you next do.'

I bid the old man farewell, expressing sincere appreciation, and headed back home across the cobbled path which had led me here. Only, when I was near home did I realise the old man had already shown me how all pieces moved. So, I wondered what that one final piece he had mentioned was.