Luke
Page 3
iii
The Journey
The night before the long journey, Luke lay in bed chatting with his friend, the moon. Furry animals danced in his tummy, and his legs would not be still. He looked up to the window, how many games of chess have you seen, moon? he said aloud. Actually he was wondering what it was like to lose, for Luke had never lost a game. At this he felt odd and most dejected. He remembered the strange behaviour of all the opponents he had beaten. Some had slipped off their chairs like jelly, pulling elasticated faces. Others had banged the table with their fists and howled like the wolves in the forest. Others still had shaken him by the hand, but had wilted like flowers as soon as they saw their parents. Well moon, how many? But his friend didn't answer his questions. He merely put on his nightcap and pretended to be asleep.
The next morning, an elderly, rather handsome coachman was waiting for them with a glistening carriage and six magnificent white horses. The folk from the village saw them off, for nothing was a secret there for very long, and together, father and son left for the unknown kingdom of Meretriciania.
The horses galloped at an astonishing pace, their strength and elegance seemed unreal. Luke's father looked out at the landscape of his homeland with a growing sense of unease, thinking, 'everything changes so fast.' Night arrived. On the horses charged, while Luke and his father tried to sleep as best they could. The sun was rising as they entered the unknown land. They swept effortlessly past primaeval forests that spoke of magic and mystical beasts, past open fields where golden crops grew tall and straight; they crossed magnificent wooden bridges spanning beautiful rivers where fish jumped in and out of the water, glistening like rainbows. The scenes that passed before their eyes were so astonishing that they both thought they were dreaming. But neither of them said a word. At last they arrived at the foot of a huge castle that overlooked a city carved resplendently out of wood. They were escorted to glorious rooms where every object glittered in the light, with chandeliers that hung like miniature cathedrals. On the floor in Luke's room there lay a golden chess set. When he saw it he stared with open eyes. Can it be real? Peter noted everything with alarm, and Luke felt his unease. He looked up at his father and said, as if reading his thoughts, 'these pawns are very loud.'
They sat down to talk about tactics.
'Remember,' his father said, 'cool head, hands beneath the table, calm at all times. Study your opponent as well as the board. Don't forget the quiet ones - build your home and fortress securely!'
Peter placed his hand on his son's head, battling with a great compassion, 'this is no young pretender from the country, Luke. I have the feeling that this Princess is rather special.'
They went to bed, but neither could settle. Peter, when he did fall asleep, dreamt of a home without a roof, and of doors without handles. Luke spent the night tossing from side to side, he was trying to catch the blackbird with the red berry in its mouth, only it was frightened and would not be caught...
And thus a restless night passed in the chambers of the great castle.