The Lady at the River's Edge

7 - A Simple Game

The knight already awaited them in the courtyard, a few paces back from where he had made his apology some three nights ago. That moment, with all its fear transfigured into relief, came in echo as Erzsebet and Benedek strode along the stone path to meet their chaperone.

The day was clouded, mild, and if there was a breeze it could not find its way into the inner yard. In all, by Erzsebet's judgment, a morning perfect for idle recreation–if only her life and future did not hang in the balance.

At their approach, Janos bowed his head with a careless formality. "My lord, my lady. I am honored to serve again as your escort." He didn't sound particularly honored, in truth–more like wryly amused.

Benedek gave a forced chuckle. "I pray it shall not end as it did the first time. It would be quite a challenge, getting around with both eyes bandaged."

This caught the knight by surprise, as it did Erzsebet. Benedek had hardly seemed the type to make light of his injury. Always new surprises with this one–it was becoming exhausting, trying to keep pace.

"Playing games in the garden will hopefully be less dangerous than hunting," said Erzsebet, hoping to smother her lingering fears beneath forced cheer. There was no hint of anger between Janos and Benedek, but knowing that the palatine had authored this gathering, she couldn't simply relax and enjoy the games.

Janos at least seemed to be enjoying himself, his usual half-smile steady on his lips. "Indeed," he said, "far less dangerous. The only claws here are hers, and they aren't too sharp. Still, my lord, I suggest you take care not to win too often."

"Oh?" Benedek's brows rose, his lips quirking with the hint of a true grin. "Is the lady perchance a poor loser?"

"I am not," Erzsebet declared, playing up her mock outrage. "I am as graceful in my losses as I am in all things."

"Yet before, you attested to the knight's honesty," Benedek argued. While he had seemed as uneasy as Erzsebet, with each comment the young lord became more playful. "Who am I to believe?"

"In truth, I wouldn't know," Janos answered. "I have never seen her lose."

"Oh dear!" The young lord laughed. "I shall certainly not be the one to depose her–I barely know the rules of the game."

Erzsebet giggled. "Oh, I'm no master–my mother and father both are better players than I."

"That should be a comfort, lord Benedek," said Janos, nodding sagely, "given that neither the lord nor the lady bear any visible scars."

"Consider me well comforted. Shall we?" He gestured to the table, shaded nicely by a young cottonwood tree. The board and pieces were already set out, with two chairs neatly aligned with each side of the board.

"It seems the servants expect you to stand, Janos," said Erzsebet. "I can have another chair brought, if you wish."

The knight shook his head. "I am content on my feet, my lady. The soil is soft–and besides, to sit would be a dereliction of my sworn duty." If his tone weren't evidence enough, he took up the stance of a perfect rigid watchman, a caricature utterly at odds with the smirk on his lips, which told her exactly how seriously he took his task.

Benedek settled into his seat across from her, looking intently down at the crisscrossed board, carved of fine wood, painted with Moorish designs–the merchant had claimed the game set had come all the way from Persia, though her mother had scoffed heartily at that. 

The young lord lifted a few of the smooth round stones from the mixed pile, then let them drop back down, giving a satisfying clatter. He no longer looked playful, though, and contemplated the game before him with a gravitas better suited to a biblical tract–or a battlefield. "I have seen it played, once or twice. One player is white, the other black, and we aim to take the others' pieces?"