"You name your horses?" Keir asked, looking puzzled.
I rolled my eyes and continued, but other than that the tale bored me to tears. There was onlyso much I could take, reading it aloud.
There had to be another way to keep a Warlord busy.
"This is a playing board."
"The squares?"
"Yes." I set the board by his side and sat on the edge of the bed. Keir curled onto his side,studying the board. I held out a piece in my hand. "This is the King. He is the tallest piece onthe board. He moves one square in any direction."
Keir studied the piece of wood. "There are two kings."
"Yes. Yours and mine." I positioned the kings on the board. "They start here."
"Always?"
"Yes."
Keir grunted. "So. A war."
I nodded as I reached for the next piece. "The smallest pieces are the pawns. They go here,forming a line." Keir reached out to help me place the small black and white river stones thatI'd gathered. Black for him and white for me.
Slowly, I took him through each piece, their names, how they moved, what power they had. Iexplained the board and the colors. The problem occurred when we reached the bishop. I triedto explain their role in the church, but all I got for my trouble was a grim look of doubt. "So.
They are warrior-priests."
A brief vision of the florid face of Archbishop Drizen covered in tattoos had me speechless fora moment. "No, not exactly."
"But these bishops, they act to protect their king? Their people?"
"Yes, of course." I bit my lip, re-thinking my words. "Well, some care more for their statusthan their people, but the good ones—"
"Ah." Keir nodded. "Warrior-priests." His tone was one of disdain as he clutched the stonetight in his hand.
I reached over, and touched his fist, gently pulling the piece from his fingers. "You hate them,don't you? Because of Marcus?"
His jaw clenched, and there was a pause before he answered. "It goes beyond Marcus, thoughthat alone was enough. I will see them broken and destroyed."
"Keir," There was so much I didn't understand. "If they are as powerful as you say they are—
"
He gave me a tight smile, and shook his head. "That is for another day, Lara. This piece here,this 'castle'. Castles do not move." Keir frowned at the piece on the board. "Why do theymove?"
"They just do." I sighed, resigned to the change of subject.
"It should be called something else." Keir looked at me intently.
"Whose game is this, anyway?" I asked. "Let's go over the moves one more time." With hismemory, it took no time at all. Once he had them down, he looked at me expectantly.
"The best way to learn is to play." I moved one of my center pawns out.
Keir gave the board a close look, and then lifted an eyebrow at me, his eyes sparkling for thefirst time since he'd gotten sick. Father had taught me chess long ago, and we'd played manygames during his illness. I knew myself to be a fair player. Father usually won, since he'd hadan uncanny knack of holding all the possible moves in his head well in advance of the actualturns. I knew that once Keir learned the strategies behind the moves, I'd never be able to beathim. Best to take full advantage while I could.
Keir made his first move carefully. I reached out and advanced another piece, and thenwatched as he committed a classic beginner's mistake.
A few more moves and I had him. "Checkmate."
