Knightley academy by Violet Haberdasher

Author:Violet Haberdasher [Violet Haberdasher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Jeunesse
ISBN: 9781416991434
Published: 2010-03-09T08:00:00+00:00

CHECKMATE

Rohan couldn’t concentrate on his homework and, for that matter, neither could Henry.

“She’s just keeping him overnight,” Henry said.

“I know.” Rohan twirled a pencil between his fingers, the sheet of paper on his desk still blank.

“He’s going to be fine,” Henry said.

“I know, but—”

“He could have died. Well, he didn’t. I’d rather not think about it,” Henry said. “I’m going to the common room. Want to come?”

“No, thank you.”

The common room was full. It was getting colder outside, and a fire blazed in the grate. Games of chess and checkers had been set up on every available surface, and boys who were waiting their turns hovered over the tables, watching those who played.

Henry and his friends rarely ventured into the common room, which was undisputedly Theobold’s territory. Valmont and Luther were hunched over a chessboard in the armchairs by the fire, their sleeves pushed up, their attention focused.

Henry glanced at the game. Valmont was winning. Luther played bravely with just his queen, king, two pawns, and a knight remaining. Valmont, missing only three pawns, a castle, and a bishop, was just a few moves away from checkmate. Henry waited on the game, as he wanted to talk to Valmont.

He watched as Valmont, rather than going for the obvious checkmate, drew out the execution of Luther’s king, removing first the two pawns, then the knight, and then finally ending it.

“Good game,” Luther said chivalrously, standing up.

Valmont yawned. “It was a bore for me,” he said. “But then, it’s not as though anyone can match my skill.”

“Is that so?” Henry asked, with just the hint of a smile.

“This is a chessboard, servant boy,” Valmont said, as though Henry were quite deaf. “You use it to play chess.”

“Well, maybe that’s how you use it. I use it to beat you at chess,” Henry returned.

“You’re on.”

Valmont began putting the pieces back in their positions, and Henry helped.

“I’ll play white,” Valmont declared, and Henry took the seat across from him, in front of the black pieces.

Valmont shot a pawn out two spaces, and Henry calmly considered how he wanted to win. Feign losing and then go in for the unexpected kill? Swiftly and suddenly? Laboriously? Should Valmont believe they were equally matched? There were so many possibilities, because Henry was excellent at chess. He’d learned it as a boy from the orphanage priest, playing games between lessons.

Henry chose the move Valmont would be most likely to expect, blocking his pawn.

“So,” Henry said. “Adam’s still in the sick bay.”

“Really?” Valmont asked, eyes scanning the board. “Is he going to be— I mean, who cares? Your move.”

Henry took one of Valmont’s pawns.

“He’s going to be fine,” Henry said.

“Did I ask?” Valmont retorted, a finger on the pawn that Henry wanted him to move.

“You can’t hate all of us that much,” Henry said, capturing the pawn the moment Valmont moved it.

Valmont scowled. “No, I don’t,” he admitted, “just you.”

Henry puzzled over this as they played in silence for a few minutes, glaring down at the black and white spaces.

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