Black Rook

by Ingrid Seymour

  “Not joining me today?” Marin had asked me when he’d seen me pulling Jigsaw out of the stable as everyone prepared to leave and enjoy their time off.

  “Not today, Marin. I thought I’d go to the cemetery and visit my parents’ graves,” I’d told him, avoiding eye contact. “I haven’t been in quite some time.” I hated to lie to him. He was a good friend, but it was better this way. There was no one I could trust here. Marin had understood, of course. He was a good son, who visited his mother every month.

  As I entered Square G2, I dismounted and, taking Jigsaw’s reins, I walked him to a nearby tavern. I tied him to a post and tossed a couple of Chekes at the attendant.

  “Watch him for me,” I said. “Pat him dry and give him some water.” The boy nodded and happily set to work, Chekes stuffed deep in his pockets.

  Most people in Acedrex traveled on foot or rented a carriage for longer distances. So not many places were set up to take care of horses, only a few taverns here and there. The city was big—a day-long horse ride was required to go from the North gate to the South gate—but most people stayed close to home, running their businesses on their own Squares or nearby ones. And why not? There really wasn’t anywhere to go. Acedrex was a prison, albeit a sizable one.

  Jigsaw protested as I walked away, but I wasn’t worried about him. No one would try to steal him or harm him—not when he bore Maximus’s brand on his rump, the chess piece of a crowned king.

  I hurried down the road, still glancing over my shoulder and taking a few unnecessary turns until I made it to Alfil Park where Bianca and I had agreed to meet.

  A few kids played at the edge of the park, hunched over a set of marbles. They were vociferous, exuberant in their innocent youth, the way Timotei had been. I tore my gaze from them and walked past, not allowing my thoughts to linger.

  Past the park’s entrance, an old man sat on a bench. He was wrapped in a long coat, a battered hat atop his head, hands resting on a walking stick, eyes so lost in the distance that he didn’t notice as I walked by.

  I went deep into the park, searching behind every tree, wishing that Bianca and I had been more specific about exactly where to meet. The small gazebo in the back would have been the perfect place. It sat in the middle of a small pond, a short wooden bridge connecting it to the main path.

  With that thought in mind, I veered right and headed there. When I arrived, I found the gazebo empty. I took out my pocket watch, a recent acquisition I’d bought with my Fourth Pawn salary. I saved most of my earnings and bought only what I found strictly necessary.

  The watch read one fifty-five PM. I was early.

  Squinting at my surroundings, I started to wonder if Bianca knew about this gazebo. I took a deep breath and shoved down my impatience. She would find me. As I waited, I paced in front of the bridge that led to the gazebo. The minutes marched at an excruciatingly slow rate. When it was ten past the hour, my impatience turned to worry. Had something happened?

  Suddenly, the sounds of distant screams reached my ears. My attention snapped back the way I’d come, but all I saw were trees. More screams then shouted words. They were coming from the street or maybe the edge of the park.

  Without thinking, I ran, a hand on the hilt of my sword, my boots slapping the ground. As I neared the park’s exit, I could see people standing on the road.

  “Stay back. Stay back!” a man ordered. He was facing the crowd, arms out to his side as he attempted to herd them back.

  Slowing down, I came to a stop at the edge of the gawking horde. I followed their entranced gazes and froze.

  Bianca stood in the middle of the street, her white uniform slashed by a spray of crimson blood across her chest.

  CHAPTER 16

  The tableau painted itself before my eyes in wide strokes tainted in red.

  Behind Bianca, a carriage lay broken on its side, one horse fighting to get up, the other utterly motionless. At her feet laid a mangled body, blood soaking its white clothing.

  She stood over the broken shape, glancing down at it, an unreadable expression on her face.

  I peeled away from the crowd, my feet moving of their own accord. The man who was trying to hold the crowd back made as if to stop me, but noticing my uniform, he pulled back and let me pass—though not without a confused expression twisting his features. This was a white square. I had no business getting involved.

  A couple of men were climbing the capsized carriage, trying to get to the passengers, one of which was screaming hysterically.

  “Bianca,” I said in a whisper, not wanting people to hear me.

  Her dark gaze rose slowly and met mine. She stared at me—or more accurately, through me—without recognition.

  I moved closer, my attention darting toward the broken shape at her feet. At the sight of the person’s disfigured face, my stomach turned, acid rising up my throat. Blood, exposed teeth, and butchered flesh made the features unrecognizable. Brain matter leaked from one side of a broken skull.

  The victim was a man. That much I could tell. He wore a uniform just like Bianca’s. I tried to peer at the insignia on his arm, but it was hidden from my vantage point.

  “What happened?” I asked dumbly, returning my attention to her.

  She seemed at the verge of crying, her eyes clouded by unshed tears. She shook her head, lower lip trembling.

  Steps marched in our direction.

  “Out of the way,” a deep, rumbling voice commanded.

  A group of six Sentries appeared, parting the crowd. As they took in the scene, they came to an abrupt halt. Silence fell over the crowd until only the hysterical cries from the carriage passenger could be heard. This was not a common sight in Acedrex. Blood in these amounts was normally spilled only by the King and Queen.

  One of the Sentries stepped ahead of the others, taking command of the situation. He wore the traditional uniform of White Sentries. White pants and jacket. A black belt and black trimmings sewn onto the cuffs and collar. He seemed to be in his early fifties and possessed a commanding air.

  “You and you,” he ordered, pointing to two young Sentries, then at the collapsed carriage. “Help get those people out.” He turned to the others. “All of you, keep the crowd under control.”

  Obediently, they set to work, following the orders of their senior officer. At last, he turned back to us, assessing the situation with intelligent blue eyes.

  He glanced at me with a frown. I took a step back and nodded, conceding. That seemed enough to stop him from saying anything and focusing on the more important problem.

  “First Pawn,” he said respectfully, noting the insignia on Bianca’s shoulder. “May I?” He gestured toward the fallen man.

  Bianca retreated a few steps, allowing the Sentry to kneel on the right side of the body. He blinked once at the gruesome sight but managed to keep his expression steady. Taking two fingers to the man’s neck, he checked for a pulse. It was a useless thing to do. There was brain matter smeared on the cobblestone. There could be no life left in that body.

  When he was done, he angled his face to take a look at the man’s right shoulder. His eyes widened.

  “A Rook!” he said in surprise. He shot to his feet as if he were planning to flee the scene. Shock etching his mature features, he turned to Bianca, then to me. “What happened here?” he asked, his voice full of accusation.

  Shit!

  Of course, he would suspect the Blackie.

  “I just got here. I don’t know,” I said, putting my hands up.

  He narrowed his eyes and started to move in my direction.

  “It’s true,” Bianca said from behind the Sentry.

  Reluctantly, he turned away and slowly faced Bianca, keeping a watch on me out of the corner of his eye.

  “Yeah,” I said. “You can ask the crowd. They can confirm that.”

  “Did you see what happened then?” the Sentry asked Bianca.

  She nodded, taking a deep breath. “He was trying to kill me,” she said. “
So I killed him first.”

  CHAPTER 17

  It never occurred to me that Bianca might be responsible for the Rook’s death. Now, I felt like a coward for assuring the lead Sentry I didn’t know what had happened. If I had known, I might have tried to help her somehow.

  Now, the Sentries pushed me away from the scene of the crime along with the rest of the crowd. As I walked backward, away from Bianca, my gaze remained locked to hers, a million questions riding the air between us.

  What was happening with her at the White Palace? Why had a Rook been trying to kill her? What would happen when she went back? Would they believe her? Would they think she was lying and sentence her to death for breaking contract?

  I reached out for answers with all my might as if she could hear my thoughts.

  Will you be alright?

  She gave a gentle nod as she perceived my distress, then her eyes flicked to one side. Go, I’ll be fine, she seemed to be saying. You don’t want to get involved.

  I shook my head. Her expression changed, acquiring an air of indifference as if her current situation bored her. What did she mean by that? Was she truly unconcerned? Or was she trying to keep me out of trouble with a lie?

  The fact that she might care about my fate caused a strange sensation in my chest. I certainly cared about hers. There was no rhyme or reason to it, but I did.

  The Sentry in charge asked her something that I couldn’t hear. She answered calmly, holding herself straight and maintaining eye contact. She seemed confident, in control, the shock of whatever had transpired here fully reined in now.

  As the Sentry got distracted with his other officers, she glanced back in my direction and seemed annoyed to find I was still there. Her serious expression softened. She inclined her head to one side, her eyes pleading.

  Trust me, she seemed to say. I’ll be fine. I promise.

  I swallowed thickly and nodded. She was not a helpless maiden. She’d survived at the White Palace this long. She didn’t need me to rescue her, no matter how much I’d like to do so. All I might accomplish was get myself killed. A Black Pawn had no business in a White Square. I’d been lucky to get away without further questioning, and considering the eternal feud between the Black and White Courts, it was better to avoid any unpleasantness.

  Quickly, I gestured toward Alfil Park.

  Next time. I willed the message to travel to her. Our next day off would be two weeks from today. It would be torture waiting until then, not knowing what happened, but that was the only choice.

  She nodded in understanding. The pressure in my chest eased a little.

  Clenching my teeth on my impotence, I turned my back on Bianca. The street ahead of me was empty. Everyone was behind me, gawking, eager to stare at the horror painted on the street. In the distance, above all the houses, the Black Palace stood vigilant, a looming threat that couldn’t be ignored.

  As I marched back toward the tavern to retrieve Jigsaw, I remembered my own situation. What if the situation got reversed? What if Bianca came to Alfil Park in two weeks, and I wasn’t there to meet her?

  A new challenge awaited me, a fight with all the odds stacked against me. Loredana was the better fighter. But not only that, everyone was on her side. What if Knight Traian did something to ensure I lost?

  No. I shook my head and hardened my resolve. I wouldn’t let that happen.

  For Timotei, and for this new reason that I would have never invited or suspected... For Bianca.

  Because I wanted to see her and kiss her lips one more time.

  CHAPTER 18

  I dismounted Jigsaw outside the Black Palace’s gates. Two Sentries I didn’t know were on duty. They saluted as I passed with Jigsaw trailing behind me. I had, in the end, visited my parents’ grave and it was now close to dinner time, the sky ablaze with beautiful twilight colors.

  A stable boy was squatting by a patch of grass, poking the ground with a stick. He looked up when he sensed my coming, then sprang to his feet and ran in the direction of the stables.

  I didn’t think anything of it until I got near the stables, and he hurried out, throwing worried glances over his shoulder as he disappeared through a path that led toward the servant quarters.

  I stopped, holding Jigsaw back and he instinctively kept moving toward the hay, water, and soothing brushing that awaited him once we went in. I paused for a few beats but, perceiving no movement from inside, I approached cautiously, staying away from the door.

  Once I was able to peer inside, I found Rook Sanda, waiting. He was sitting on a hay bale, chewing on a small stalk, one ankle crossed over his knee. Loredana and Serban standing around him.

  “There you are,” the Rook said. “You’re late.”

  “I crossed the gate right on time,” I said.

  Rook Sanda shrugged and walked out of the stable, closely followed by the First and Third Pawns in my Quadrant.

  “Challenging the First Pawn,” Sanda said with his forced upper-class accent. “You have some nerve.” He glanced over at Loredana who had the looks of someone ready for war.

  She was as tall as me, her head freshly shaved. A muscle jumped in her jaw as her black eyes drilled mine. Her shirt was rolled up to elbows, exposing corded forearms and a tattoo that matched her First Pawn insignia.

  Leading Jigsaw to a water trough on the side of one of the stable walls, I tied his reins and began removing his saddle, doing my best to appear unaffected by the trio.

  “It’s got nothing to do with nerve,” I said, then, measuring my words, I added, “It’s a matter of... leverage.” I watched them from the corner of my eye, trying to gauge their expressions. It had the desired effect at least with Loredana, who shuffled from foot to foot and seemed to deflate a little.

  None of them were privy to King Maximus’s machinations. I doubted anyone was, unless he trusted his Bishops. So I wasn’t worried about lying.

  “Don’t fool yourself. The King has no favorites,” the Rook said.

  I simply shrugged. “Believe what you will.”

  He huffed, spat his bit of hay and turned to leave.

  I hid my relief by focusing on selecting a brush for Jigsaw. I didn’t want any conflict outside of the Challenge Hall. These three could kill me and then call it an accident, and there would be no one to contradict them. My thoughts immediately flew to Bianca. Was that what had happened to her today?

  “Oh,” Sanda stopped and peered over his shoulder after taking only a few paces. “By the way, your challenge is in thirty minutes. Loredana is more than ready for you as you can see.”

  Loredana smirked knowingly, cracking her fingers. “I sure am.”

  Sanda and Serban exchanged satisfied looks. Loredana stepped closer, a swagger in her step. I frowned, trying not to look intimidated.

  She opened her mouth as if to say something, but instead, she lunged at me, hands grabbing my shoulders, fingernails digging deep into me. I tried to pull back but slammed into Jigsaw’s solid shape.

  The First Pawn growled in my ear, but the words she spoke were utterly incongruous with her tone. “I’ll let you win if you pardon me,” she said, then bit into my earlobe and yanked her head back, tearing its tip.

  I screamed in pain, taking a hand to the side of my head.

  Loredana walked backward toward Sanda, pointing at me and laughing. I stared back at her hatred, my confused thoughts reeling.

  “Don’t be late,” Sanda said with a cocky twist of his mouth.

  I watched them leave, blood running between my fingers, wondering if Loredana had bought into my leverage claims and was trying to at least save her life if not her post as First Pawn.

  Or was it all a trick? I would soon find out.

  CHAPTER 19

  Twenty minutes later, I walked into the Challenge Hall. I didn’t bother to change, even though blood from my ear had dripped onto my jacket. Instead, I’d spent the time I had, tending to my wound and making sure to make Jigsaw comfortable, in case Loredana pulled a Knight chess pi
ece out of the Challenge Vessel.

  My ear hurt like hell. For such a small injury, it felt as if I’d had a hole drilled on the side of my head. It burned and tingled, and the piece of cloth I’d wrapped around my head to try to staunch the bleeding was already soaked.

  Both Quadrants were present. Knight Arcos’s Quadrant sitting on the raised gallery to my right, and my own Quadrant sitting on the left.

  My eyes immediately darted toward the dais in the back of the room. It was empty. I didn’t know if I should be worried or relieved that the King wasn’t present. I feared what wicked games he might devise if he came, but also realized that his absence stole the validity of my claim that he was interested in my advancement through the ranks.

  Knight Traian made the necessary announcements giving my name and Loredana’s and stating the ranks at play.

  If I won, I would become First Pawn and Loredana would be demoted to Fourth Pawn... if I pardoned her, that was.

  As we stood there, I held her gaze, wondering again if her request was nothing but a trick. Maybe she simply intended me to lower my guard, so she would find it easier to beat me. Maybe she was actually afraid for her life and saw the prospect of losing her rank more advantageous than death. Because if I was actually a favorite of the King, she would stand no chance against that. No one would.

  After the announcement was made, Knight Traian invited Loredana to dip her hand in the Challenge Vessel and pull out a piece.

  She took a step forward, lifting her hand. As her hand disappeared into the vase, the door to the hall opened and closed. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the door, but there was no one there.

  “Proceed,” an ancient voice called from the dais.

  Heads swiveled. Clothes rustled.

  The King had entered the room and was now sitting on his throne. My brother perched on his knee, an expression of utter fear on his little face.