The Final Prophecy

by W. D. Newman

CHAPTER 25

  FOOL'S MATE

  Ben couldn’t believe the words that just came out of his mouth. Apparently, neither could anyone else, for they all just stared at him. Everyone’s face registered a different emotion. There was shock, surprise, sadness, grief, determination, hope, and faith.

  “Whoever wields the sword is undefeatable, right?” Ben tried to sound confident and brave. He hoped his voice didn’t sound as squeaky to the others as it did to him. He was trying his best to reassure them.

  “Ben,” said Marcus. “Do you remember the potion I gave you to make you run faster when you were facing Zoltan?”

  Ben thought back to that horrible day when he dropped the flask and spilled its contents just before the dragon arrived. He nodded. A shiver went up his spine and goose flesh prickled his arms. That was the most terrifying experience in his entire life and now he was about to face someone far WORSE than Zoltan. He didn’t know what strategy the keeper had in mind by telling him this, but it was not helping. He could feel the panic building inside of him and fervently wished that he had his inhaler. Marcus sensed his unease and quickly continued.

  “You were able to run as fast as your sister then, simply because you believed that you could.”

  “What are you trying to tell me, Marcus?”

  “That potion was nothing but water. You did everything on your own.”

  “What he is trying to tell you, dear,” said Louise, “is to believe in yourself as we do.”

  “Grandma’s right, Ben,” said Casey. “We all believe in you.”

  “But a little magic never hurts,” Merlin whispered. As fast as a snake, the wizard reached out and tapped Ben on his forehead with the end of his staff. The spell catcher winked green for a brief instant and Ben felt a calmness descend upon him. It was like pulling a warm goose down blanket up around your shoulders on a cold winter night. It was like falling into a cool lake on a hot summer day. It was like hot chocolate and iced tea, all at the same time; refreshing, comforting, relaxing. For the first time since this ordeal began, Ben felt calm.

  “Wow. Thank you, Merlin.”

  The old wizard smiled. “Great magic is not needed to accomplish great things, only great people. Now, go kick his immortal…”

  “Merlin!” Louise scolded.

  Startled by her outburst, the old wizard jumped. His hat slid down over his eyes and he fumbled blindly with his staff, accidentally knocking poor Hob on the head with the spell catcher. While Amos steadied the wizard, Hob thought to aim a quick kick to his skinny little shins for being so clumsy, but thought better of it. Instead, he rubbed his sore head, while Amos spoke a final word of encouragement. “Go beat him. We know you can do it.”

  Ben joined Bellator at the table. “Since you do not like elves, you will play the dwarves and I will play the elves.”

  “I have no care for the dwarves either, but at least they know their place.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “They are a lowly race and they know it.”

  “Does the Creator not love them too?”

  “Yes, the Creator loves even them, but they are not his chosen people.”

  “You know, I feel sorry for you. Nobody likes you, because you don’t like anybody. Someone who is immortal and who has been in the presence of the Creator should know that in order to receive love, you have to give it. It’s like a basic instinct.”

  Bellator sat across the table in stony silence, staring unblinkingly, until at last Ben shrugged and continued on.

  “First, I’m going to explain the layout of the board. As you can see, the board is divided into squares eight wide and eight deep. The rows of squares going left and right are called ranks and they are numbered one through eight, starting on the elf side. The rows of squares going forwards and backwards are called files and they are identified left to right with the letters a, b, c, d, e, f, g, and h. Got it?”

  “What is the object of this game?”

  “I’m getting there. It won’t do you any good to know the object of the game if you don’t know how to play it. Now, let’s go over the pieces and how they move about on the board. These men on the front rows are called pawns. They represent your infantry and can only move forward one space at a time. The exception to this is on their first move and then they may move two spaces. They cannot capture an opponent’s player with a forward move. The only way they can capture an opponent’s player is by moving diagonally to the left or right and the only time they can move diagonally is when they are capturing an opponent’s player. They can never move backwards and they can never jump over other players. Do you understand?”

  Bellator picked up one of his pawns. The pieces were intricately carved from wood and painted with exquisite detail. The dwarven pawns were clad in full battle armor with iron caps upon their heads. In their left hands were round, brightly colored shields and in the right hands were long handled halberds with broad curving blades. The elfin pawns, although lacking armor, looked just as fierce. They were all posed in an offensive stance, some with long swords and some with pikes. Bellator sat the pawn down. “What happens when you capture a player?”

  “You take the player that you captured off the board. Since you are so anxious to know, the object of the game is to capture the King, but we’ll get to that in a minute.”

  Bellator nodded. “Continue.”

  “These men on the outside of the back row are called rooks, or castles. They may only move in a straight line, forwards or backwards, left or right, but never diagonal. They can move as many spaces as they want to, but they cannot jump over other players. They may capture an opponent’s player when they are able to move onto his square.”

  The elfin rooks looked like the main tower at Castle Twilight, while the dwarven rooks were carved to resemble the Iron Bone Mountains. One fortress was tall, the other was deep, and both were impenetrable.

  “These next pieces,” Ben continued, “are called knights. They are the only piece that can jump over other pieces. They can move in any direction and their move is two spaces forwards, backwards, left, or right, and then one space to the side in either direction.”

  The knights for the elves were fashioned after their magnificent black horses, while the knights for the dwarves were fashioned after their beloved shaggy mountain ponies.

  “A very valuable offensive piece,” Bellator commented.

  “Um, yeah,” Ben answered. He was beginning to wonder if this was such a great idea after all. Bellator almost seemed bored with the whole game and Ben was starting to get the feeling that he was explaining the game to a grand master player rather than a beginner. He swallowed the lump in his throat and forged ahead. “Next are the bishops. These players move like the rooks, except they can only move diagonally. And, finally, we have the king and queen. The queen can move like the rook and like the bishop too. The king moves like the queen, except the king can only move one space at a time. When you move a piece into a position where that piece can capture your opponent’s king on its next move, you have to say “check” so that your opponent can make a move to save their king. If you move your piece into a position where your opponent cannot make a move to save their king, you say checkmate and the game is over. That is a basic game. So, if I want to move my knight in the g file to the h file in the sixth rank I would do this…” Ben picked the piece up and moved it to the appropriate spot. “Knight from g to h6. Simple, huh?”

  “Very intriguing,” said Bellator. “Let us begin the game.”

  Ben moved his knight back into position. “Okay. Normally white goes first in chess, but with elves and dwarves the rules call for a quick game of rock, paper, and scissors to decide who goes first. This is a simple game, played with your hands and fingers. To play, we smack our fist into our palm three times and on the third time we play a rock, a piece of paper, or a pair of scissors.”

  “What are scissors?” a
sked Bellator.

  “Scissors are like a pair of really sharp knives that are connected together in such a manner that will allow them to cut paper neatly and cleanly. To play scissors, you will thrust out two finders; like this...” Ben thumped his fist into his palm three times. On the third strike he thrust out two fingers. “See?”

  “Hmmm,” Bellator rumbled. “This seems a silly game for children. Show me how to play rock and paper and then explain the rules. I am anxious to be done with this nonsense.”

  Ben showed the immortal how to play the rock and how to play paper. Then, he went on to explain how the game worked. On the very first round, Ben threw a rock and Bellator threw paper. Paper covers rock and Bellator won the right to move first. Once more, Ben began to fret. The first move was a great advantage against a worthy opponent. This was it. This was the show down between the lowly one and the mighty.

  “Okay,” said Ben. “It’s your move.”

  Bellator studied the board for a long time. Finally, he reached for the pawn in front of the bishop next to his king.

  “Wait!” Ben cried. “One other thing I forgot to mention. When you move a piece, once you take your hand off of that piece then your move is over and you cannot go back and change it.”

  Bellator stared across the game board at Ben as he slid the pawn forward one space.

  Ben was taken aback by this novice move. It was a weak move, doing little to influence the center of the board and weakening the king’s defenses on the e1 to h4 diagonal.

  “Your move,” said Bellator, removing his hand from the piece and continuing to stare at Ben.

  Ben wasn’t sure if the Immortal was trying to intimidate him, but it wasn’t working. He knew his next move and he did not hesitate. Quickly, he reached for the pawn in front of his queen and moved it forward two spaces. This move gave him a great deal of influence in the center of the board. This move would help him position both his bishop and queen and potentially allow him to take advantage of Bellator’s weakened king. Already, after only two moves, Bellator had lost the slight advantage that going first had given him and Ben had better positioning on the board. Ben wiped his palms on his shirt. They were beginning to sweat. He turned and looked at his family and friends behind him. They could not see the game pieces from where they were standing and had no way of knowing how the game was progressing. Louise smiled at him and Marcus gave him a nod of encouragement. Ben turned back to Bellator and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Your move.”

  Once again, Bellator studied the game board for several long minutes, before taking the pawn in front of his knight and moving it forward two spaces. He held his huge finger on top of the pawn while he contemplated the move a moment longer. Finally, satisfied with his strategy, he removed his finger from the pawn. It was now Ben’s turn. “Your move,” said Bellator.

  Ben tried to keep a poker face. Bellator had just made a huge blunder. Moving that pawn did nothing to improve his position on the board and it critically weakened the already dangerous e1 to h4 diagonal. He stared at the board for just a moment longer and then it suddenly leapt out at him. This was only his second move, but he could put the immortal in checkmate right now and end the game. Bellator must have spotted his mistake too, for abruptly he rose from his chair and glared down at Ben.

  Ben slowly rose from his chair, so that he was standing too. “You are bound by your word,” he reminded Bellator. The immortal did not respond, but continued to glare at him. For the first time, Ben thought he saw a flicker of emotion register on Bellator’s face and it chilled him to the bone. It was the same look he had witnessed on the scarred face of Ringwald Stonebreaker, the mad gnome king. It was a look of hatred and malice, an emotion bred in the dark recesses of the heart and nurtured with long years of jealousy and rage.

  “Make your move,” Bellator whispered.

  Ben turned once more to look at his family and friends. They knew something was up. Amos was on the verge of transforming; the air around him shimmering brightly. Hob was hefting his axe and the spell catcher on the end of Merlin’s staff was now glowing a brilliant green. Marcus appeared to be calm, but Ben could tell that Gabriel was wound up tight as a spring. He glanced at his grandma and sister. Louise was pitiful, standing there, wringing her hands with worry. Casey was no better. She was nervously fretting and absently fidgeting with her bracelet. Ben turned back to the game board. Slowly reached for his queen. He could literally feel the tension in the air as he slid the queen to the h4 position. He took his hand off the queen and looked up at Bellator.

  “Checkmate.”

  *****