This story follows The Development of Power.
The Queen of Castellvi looked across the battlefield, watching her enemy scurry to fortify their Door to the King, and scoffed. Fools. To devote too much protection to any one point of access to the King, regardless of how important it was, naturally diverted precious attention away from other vulnerabilities.
This day was shaping up to be a particularly lovely one, with the sun beaming from behind a scattering of soft, white clouds and warming the verdant field of green. Admittedly, an unpleasant metallic aroma was beginning to mingle with sweet summer air, but it couldn’t be helped. The corpse of the enemy bishop who’d so shamefully murdered Sir Habberon still lay in the grass where he fell.
The Queen of Castellvi cleaned her own sword, even as she rode out onto the battlefield, leaving the carnage behind.
As a little girl, she’d been told that she would be the most powerful person in the Castellvi Kingdom. She’d learned that her decisions would lead to her King’s victory or defeat. She’d learned that while Knights and Bishops might give their lives for their kingdom’s advantage, a Queen should never, unless it would ensure absolute victory. She’d learned that her blade would be capable of claiming more blood than any other.
So much had changed since those lessons had left her trembling and horrified. Now, instead of panic or shame, the Queen felt only icy resolve. She’d watched the Vinyoles Queen cut the King’s Pawn, Verron Castellvi, down without compunction and knew that same merciless bloodthirstiness would translate just as easily to an attack on the King himself. The best way to defend her husband, the Queen of Castellvi had been taught, was to be ruthless and strategic. Now, if she saw an advantage — one she could take safely — she knew how to seize it.
While the enemy built their fortifications around their precious King, the Queen of Castellvi rode for their outpost, leapt off her horse, and strode straight into their camp.
Three soldiers, a Knight, and a Rook-keeper of Vinyoles were playing a stone-tossing game, laughing and talking, thinking themselves safe so far away from the fervor centered around their King and castle. They froze when they saw her approach, eyes wide, disbelieving. No previous battle-report had ever recorded a Queen traveling so far across the field.
When the Queen drew her blade again, it gleamed.
Queen takes Pawn on b7.
“Obric!” Sir Tollston screamed as his faithful young guard fell to the merciless steel of the enemy Queen. It simply didn’t seem possible. One moment the Queen had been on the opposite corner of the battlefield and now she’d appeared in their very camp! Poor Obric hadn’t stood a chance against her. They’d been completely unprepared for such an audacious attack.
And they were helpless, Sir Tollston realized. From this position, there was nothing they could do to stop her. There was no attack that could avenge poor, young Obric.
Sir Tollston’s hands shook as he drew his sword and stared down the Castellvi Queen, but she ignored him. Her hungry gaze turned to the Rook-keeper instead.
Lady Carnella, Keeper of the Rookery, might have tried to retreat, but there was nowhere to run to and nowhere to hide, here at the furthest borders of the Vinyoles lands. Her black-feathered birds sensed their mistress’ distress and stirred the air with their wings, but they’d been trained for a very specific type of attack, and the enemy Queen had snuck into a place they couldn’t reach effectively.
Sir Tollston gritted his teeth as he realized the Castellvi Queen’s intent. Losing Lady Carnella so early in the war — and being utterly unable to avenge her — would be a huge, damaging blow to the Vinyoles defense. He could not allow his Lady’s life to end so ignominiously.
The Vinyoles defense had been too focused on their central positions, and their blindness had cost Obric his life.
Never again.
Sir Tollston’s vow had him searching, immediately, for a strategy. No outright attack could possibly work. The enemy Queen had chosen her position well.
The best thing — perhaps the only thing — he could do for Lady Carnella and his Kingdom was the last thing he wanted to do.
The Lady’s fear welled in her eyes as she realized how utterly defenseless she was, in this position.
Then she looked to Sir Tollston. Without saying a word, she understood his intentions. Hope drew color back into her cheeks.
“Go,” she whispered, nodding once.
Sir Tollston wasted no time. He threw himself up onto his horse and rode for the castle as fast as possible. Lady Carnella and her rooks understood the necessity, and that was a profound reassurance. There was nothing he could do to protect her, there, and so long as he was in the way and the castle uninformed of the crisis, she was in far more danger than she would be if he left.
“My Queen!” he shouted up to the battlements. “Lady Carnella is under attack!”
The Queen of Vinyoles realized their mistake immediately. The shame of leaving Obric exposed and putting Lady Carnella at risk flickered across her features only briefly before a new resolve entered her eyes and she reached for her bow and arrow.
“Sir Tollston,” she shouted back. “Stand aside. I will defend Lady Carnella myself.”
She drew the bow back and sighted down her own lines. If the enemy Queen so much as flinched in the Rook-keeper’s direction, her own life would be forfeit.
Sir Tollston took his position outside the Queen’s fortifications and tried to dispel the grim foreboding that gripped him. This was not a strong start to their exchange.
Knight b to d7.
Sir Granset picked himself up off the rock with a grunt, looking out toward the enemy lines. His beard rasped as he scratched it, but the sound was nearly hidden by the clearing of his throat.
“Well, kid. Bye.”
“Where are you going?” Bishop Conrad demanded, whirling back to face the seasoned Castellvi Knight. “I thought you’d remain nearby. In case…”
Sir Granset snorted. “I couldn’t do you any good from here anyways, your holiness. Best thing for everyone is if we just get this war done and over with.”
Bishop Conrad’s eyes widened. “B-but… you’re going out there? Undefended?”
Sir Granset rolled his eyes. “First off… I’m keeping out of enemy range, for now. And secondly, your holiness, I do hope you realize that you’re meant to defend me.”
Bishop Conrad reeled for a moment, then he blinked. “Oh. Right. Yes. Well, then. Ride on, Sir Knight.”
Sir Granset snorted through his nose and tapped his heels against the sides of his steed.
Undefended, indeed. What did that upstart youth think this was — afternoon tea?
Sir Granset took up a position, ready to attack either of the two soldiers flanking his Queen. If the enemy did nothing, he’d be able to take their King down in a mere two moves.
Knight to b5.
Lady Carnella didn’t know what to do. The enemy Knight had taken a position that would lead to blood no matter what, and she could only protect one of their dear soldiers. Obric was dead because of her and her rooks’ impotency, and there was nothing any Vinyoles protector could do to avenge him.
How had the enemy managed to get so close? Panic choked her thoughts, but she tried to calm herself and think critically.
From her current position, she could defend Baelk, but that left Fardock exposed. Baelk was a good soldier — a good man — just as Obric had been, but Fardock could not be allowed to fall.
Lady Carnella squeezed Baelk’s hand and kissed his cheek before she left. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Rook to c8.
Sir Granset grumbled to himself as he rode forth. Youth these days had no respect for war. Bishop Conrad was a whining little coward. He’d be better off without that useless blockhead at his back.
He saluted his Queen as he rode closer. The sun was dipping in the sky and the Vinyoles soldiers were beginning to light their evening fires.
“M’Lady,” he greeted.
“My Knight,” she returned.
“It’s pretty nice in these parts,” he observed, looking around at the Vinyoles lands.
“It is,” she agreed. “The people of Castellvi will prosper here.”
“Death to all Castellvi!” a young Vinyoles soldier screamed, charging forth from between the tents. A border guard, by all appearances. An unlucky one. Sir Granset glanced around to see if he was defended, but the Rook-keeper had gone to protect someone else.
Sir Granset struck swiftly, decisively. Youth these days.
Knight takes Pawn on a7.
Lady Carnella felt danger looming like a summer storm. Baelk was dead because she’d abandoned him and she was in no better position now than she’d been just before.
But she could still make a difference. One small, simple move would put her in position to face the Castellvi Queen with the full might of her deadly birds. The invader would be forced to run back to her own lines, freeing Vinyoles from her terrible presence.
She took a breath to steady herself and prepared to move, but before she could, a roar of rage echoed from nearby.
Sir Tollston rode forth, wildly brandishing his sword.
“I’m coming for you!” he roared at the Castellvi Bishop.
Lady Carnella’s eyes widened. Surely he couldn’t be that foolish, could he? Surely he wouldn’t rob her of the chance to save herself.
Was he deluded enough to believe that his defense would be enough to deter the Castellvi’s? Did he think he could prevent them from coming for her life and the lives of her birds?
Lady Carnella saw it in his eyes — the determination to avenge his fallen soldiers and slay the enemy knight. And, perhaps, he wanted to be in a position to avenge her, should it come to that.
But Lady Carnella winced. She really would rather not need avenging in the first place.
Knight to b6.
Some days, Sir Granset thought, a Knight’s job was pretty dismal.
He knew his duty, sure, but some days he just really didn’t like it.
He wondered if Verron had felt as disgusted with himself when he’d faced the Vinyoles Queen’s Pawn and ended her life. Perhaps not. That woman had been relentlessly attempting to kill him where he stood. This Rook-keeper, however, was simply cowering near the castle walls.
Sir Granset knew what he had to do, for the good of the kingdom of Castellvi. He just didn’t like it.
“Your courage,” his Queen said, just before he rode out, “could decide the outcome of this war. It will not be forgotten.”
Sir Granset grunted rode forth. Some days, being a Knight was downright unpleasant.
Knight takes Rook on c8.
Sir Tollston’s rage was molten within him and burst forth from his mouth in a terrible roar as he rode out to avenge Lady Carnella.
She had died before she’d even had the chance to live! She had so much power, and no chance to wield it against their enemies. The entirety of her all-too-brief life had been spent cowering from the enemy and defending mere soldiers.
But this death, at least, would not go unavenged.
As Sir Tollston crossed blades with the enemy Knight, he saw his own reflection mirrored in the enemy’s helm.
“Did you think I wouldn’t avenge her? Did you think I’d fear your Queen?” Sir Tollston roared, hammering his sword against the enemy’s shield.
The enemy laughed, the sound issuing ominously though the metal grating.
“You should all fear my Queen,” the Knight said.
His last words, before Sir Tollston disarmed him.
Sir Tollston turned to the Queen, so close and so dangerous. “I’m not afraid of you!” he screamed. “Come after me and taste the wrath of my own Queen!”
The Castellvi ruler revealed no emotion, beyond the smallest of smiles. “Now? I think not. But be patient, Sir Knight. Everything has its time.”
Frustrated and terrified, Sir Tollston did the only thing he could think to do and hoped his rulers had a plan for victory, mapped out. He hoped they could recover from these grievous losses. At least he could give them one small victory — one less Castellvi Knight to fear.
Sir Tollston hoped it would be enough.
Knight takes Knight on c8.
Thanks for reading! The game is getting heated, now that the Castellvi Queen is in Vinyoles territory. If you’re wondering why the images show green and red pieces, not black and white, that was an intentional choice. Historically, before black and white were the standard chess-colors, green and red were. The real players of this game and composers of the poem its based on would have been playing with green and red pieces.
Keep an eye out for the next post: