I’d seen Denis face his enemies before, outwardly calm, but inwardly raging. This time, even his eyes showed nothing. He protected everything from Creasey, including his true thoughts.
I pulled out a chair and sat down. “Then let us begin.”
“I will make it easier for you,” Creasey said as he seated himself. “We will play not just one game, but three. Whoever wins two of them will be declared the victor. That way you may learn from your mistakes.”
I did not want to learn a thing from this man but how loud he screamed when Brewster broke his bones. I removed my ruined gloves and set them on my knee.
“Very well,” I answered.
I immediately lifted a light jade pawn and moved it two squares forward. Creasey drew a breath at my abruptness but countered by bringing out his king’s knight.
We shifted the pieces one by one. Creasey expected me to pause and study before making each decision, so when I simply fanned out my pieces with decided clicks, he blinked a little.
Soon I had my pawns in a guarding line and had castled to move my king to a safer position.
Creasey formed a pawn chain of his own, taking control of a long diagonal. I moved my rooks to one corner, readying them to swoop. Creasey placed his queen to block this setup, and I took it with a knight.
While another man might curse at this loss, Creasey simply took my queen with his bishop. He was setting up to check my king, and I sacrificed a pawn to prevent him.
Creasey took the pawn with delight. He obviously did not expect much from me, even with the resolute way I was playing tonight, and he sucked in a breath when I rained one rook down and took a pawn in his chain, threatening the entire line. He brought over his rook to defend, but I moved my second rook all the way to his king row, putting him in check.
Creasey blinked again, then his lip curled, and I knew that from now on I’d have to fight for my life.
Anger made him a tad careless, however. Creasey lost a rook to my bishop before he took my bishop with a pawn. After a series of flurried moves, we were left with only a few pieces on the board: He a rook, pawn, and king, me with a rook and king.
I noted the room had grown very quiet. I was fairly certain not all the men around us were familiar with the game, but they’d drawn close to watch this battle in miniature.
Creasey thought he had me. My rook was a few squares from his king, but his lone pawn protected it. If I took the pawn, he’d take my rook, and then I’d be dead in the water.
I moved the rook swiftly to his end of the board. Creasey tried to counter by checking me at my end with his rook, but in a few moves, I’d made him put his own pawn between my king and his threatening rook, and moved my rook to check his king.
Creasey gave me a look of fury. “It will be a draw,” he said.
“I agree. Stalemate.”
Creasey snatched up the pieces and proceeded to set out a new game. “You must win two. Draws do you no good.”
“I understand.”
Again, he let me open, but I believe he was beginning to regret this generosity. Creasey was a seasoned player, and I’d only been relearning the game in the last weeks, but as I faced him now, the words of my old teacher brushed the back of my mind.
Pawns are the soul of chess.
I played my pawns as he’d taught me, setting them up to block while at the same time, letting my own pieces through. I was particularly fond of rooks, because while they could not move as powerfully as the queen, I had two of them. When I paired them or set them one behind the other to break through Creasey’s wall, I felt a tingle of satisfaction in my fingers. The rooks reminded me of Brewster, all bulk that could smash through anywhere they wanted to go.
I had to relinquish my queen because I needed to stop one of his pawns that had made a slow march to my end of the board. Once a pawn reached the opponent’s king row, it could turn into any piece its player wanted. Creasey would invariably choose a queen, and with two of those in play, he’d crumble my defenses to dust. I knocked down the pawn, and Creasey seethed even as he snatched up my queen in retaliation.
Focus on controlling a pivotal square.
I put all my effort on the space before Creasey’s king, ensuring he had nowhere to run. He of course piled his pieces on to defend that square, but I maneuvered the diagonals.
His queen began her assault on my king, but I moved another bishop, and then a pawn, cornering his king. Creasey smiled as he took one of my knights. I countered by taking his, and then his queen was in jeopardy.
Creasey tapped his lips as he studied the board, his face tightening. He moved his queen one square down, a move that did nothing but purchase him time. I slammed a rook in front of it.
Certain I’d made a blunder, Creasey snatched up my rook. But I’d lured the queen from guarding the square that was my goal, and I moved my second rook to take the pawn protecting his king.
“Check,” I said quietly.
His king could not capture my rook without coming under fire from both my bishops, so he leapt the king one square away. I backed the rook off.
“Mate in two,” I announced.
Creasey worked it out. If he moved his queen to block my assault, I would simply take it with my bishop, leaving the king completely unguarded. If the king moved from the corner of the board, my rook would return with a rush and end him.
Creasey slammed his king to its side. “Best of three, I said. Your luck has run out, Lacey.”
I said nothing as I set up the pieces. The trouble with men like Creasey was that they could not believe anyone might possibly be as clever as they were. A country-bred army captain, who’d spent his years directing real battles in the heat and mud of the Peninsula, could never truly understand a sophisticated game like chess. It never occurred to him that I could read, study, practice, and pursue lessons when the game caught my interest during my year in Paris. The game had been a lifeline to distract me after Carlotta had gone.
Creasey also thought he could prevail against Denis, who’d been holding him on a loose rein for years. Denis had let Creasey alone for the simple reason that he hadn’t wanted Creasey’s business. Now Creasey believed that his superior forces would prevail.
He ought to know that James Denis would never, ever come unarmed and unaided into an enemy camp, no matter what that move would gain him. Denis had a plan—probably more than one—working behind that expressionless face of his, though I could not imagine what.
Nor did I care at the moment. I was one game away from taking Peter home. Creasey had promised the two of us could go even if I lost, but I did not trust him to keep his word. Once this game was done, Peter and I would run.
Peter had already worked himself free of his bonds. The men around Creasey were so focused on the game, they hadn’t noticed. They weren’t paying much attention to Denis either, which was fatally foolish.
Creasey proved he’d been holding back during the previous games by charging forth with an all-out attack. However, I had learned in my cavalry days, that one could charge too far. If a commander led troops too swiftly through the enemy lines, those troops could be surrounded and cut down.
Chess and real battle were of course quite distant from each other, but I taught Creasey a lesson about hurtling himself too far. I surrounded his army of pawns while I sent one of my own pawns marching resolutely to his end of the board.
The fight became vicious. Creasey hurtled his queen into the melee, capturing my knights and bishops. He’d not let me control the diagonals again. My queen went next.