KNIGHT TO QUEEN’S BISHOP 3
Tuvya did not yet know that this was the night which would change his life.
Sitting on a small hill outside Beit Sahour, he hugged himself against the cold to still the shivers. Three of the group’s sheep stood near him, nibbling idly at the half-dead grass with no sense of haste whatsoever. He wished they would hurry up as he felt a sudden gust blow up his robes and freeze his nether regions off.
It was the start of winter, just before the end of the calendar year, and Tuvya regretted not acquiring a heavier garment than the one he lounged in now.
“Yeah right,” he muttered to himself. “With what money?”
In this region, being a shepherd didn’t exactly pay a whole lot. But it was worth it to Tuvya and his friends to stay out of the influence of those damn Romans, who wanted their filthy paws in every collection of coins across Judea.
Worth it except on nights like this, when he would have rather been in easy reach of a nice warm tavern where he could rest his gnarled feet by the fire and sit back with a big mug of shekar.
Tuvya had closed his eyes and was dreaming of this when a shout came from over to his left. With reluctance, he opened his eyes, dispelling the fantasy, and craned his neck to see what the yelling was all about.
It was Davin, barely out of sight beyond a small rise. Waving and shouting. Whatever could be the matter?
If one of those blasted sheep had gone and broken its neck while Davin and Ronit were casting lots and betting all their earnings away, Tuvya was going to have their hides instead of the flock’s. Neither of them ever took this job seriously; it seemed like Tuvya was the only mature one among the group.
At 19, he was at least a year older than either of the others, and far more responsible than they.
“What is it?” Tuvya grumbled as he heaved his weary frame over the terrain, trying to see what Davin was getting so excited over.
Eventually he was in range of the younger boy’s exuberance, took in the quivering eyes and flushed skin, and knew that whatever he had seen, it was not some animal injuring itself.
Tuvya began to feel an itch at the bottom of his curiosity.
“You gotta check this out!”
Davin tugged at Tuvya’s frayed sleeve, and with a nervous glance back at his flock, the older boy followed his friend around the side of the low hill.
Well, wasn’t that something?
There, on the other side of the hill, was… a light. A shimmering light, like the one some say they see at times in the northern sky. A rainbow at eye level, flattened into a sheet, and sparkling away only fifty ells from where Tuvya stood.
In front of it, arms outstretched in cautious wonder - too afraid to touch the miracle but too entranced to let it alone - Ronit glided sideways, back and forth. A mere span or two from the surface of the blazing luminescence.
For his part, Tuvya stopped to stare in awe. He dropped the crook-ended staff he had held, not even feeling it clobber his swollen toe when it fell. The sight before his eyes was too grand, too mysterious, too obviously mystical to think of any earthly matters.
What was this?
And then, without warning, the light began to coalesce.
The width of the artifact shrank, causing Ronit to stumble backwards, tumbling onto his tailbone in surprise. In the wink of an eye the wondrous display of light had reduced to the width of a man - then flared outward in a flash that blinded Tuvya for several seconds.
At last the phosphorescent afterglow faded from his vision, and he could behold the sight that lay before his eyes. Whatever Tuvya might have expected to remain in place of that spectacular light show, what he had not anticipated was:
A woman.
Hair the color of honey, like nothing he had beheld before. Eyes a pale blue like the lake after a storm. A face as though carved from marble, perfect and cold.
And the dress. Tuvya had never seen fabric of that type: so soft and yet stiff, holding the shape of its waves and folds. A bright white as though soaked in lye, shining nearly as bright as the light which had now faded from view.
Who was she? What was she?
Several paces ahead of Tuvya, Ronit had changed his position, maneuvering so that he lay face down in front of the stunning woman. Was she a god? Such a question amounted to blasphemy, but the question came unbidden to Tuvya’s mind.
He had not read of any of the Sons of God being female before; it was right there in the name, after all. So if she were not Elohim’s messenger, was she something more like Him instead?
Internally he castigated himself for the thought. And yet it lingered.
Davin had also sunk to his knees, but though Tuvya’s were weak and trembling, still he held his ground. He dared not compound his internal blasphemy with a literal bow to something other than the holy God.
“Well, look at the three of you.”
The woman’s voice was silvery and light, but despite the casual tone a coldness underpinned it. And that accent: Tuvya couldn’t place it.
Somewhere from the far west, he reasoned. It was not Roman, but the accent had some of the same formal precision to it. He had never heard its like before, but its rhythm, the belabored vowel sounds, was appealing.
A private smile haunted the woman’s haughty face as she surveyed the men in awe before her. She knew herself to be superior to the shepherds, but something told Tuvya that she was having… fun. Enjoying wielding her power in such a demonstrative manner to the lowly animal tenders tonight.
But for some reason he did not take offense to the lady’s behavior.
“Get up,” she commanded them gently, an encouraging expression on that sculpted face. “It is not me you need to pay homage to. Instead, I must send you to the stable where a child was just born.”
“A child?” Tuvya wondered.
“A stable?” Davin spat in surprise.
A light trilling laugh fell from the woman’s bow-mouth. “Quite. A humble beginning for a humble babe. And yet this newborn boy could be the salvation of you all.”
Salvation? What miracle was this? Tuvya stepped forward unconsciously. He had to hear more.
“Yes,” the lady said with nod. “That’s it; draw nearer. I shall tell you what I require of you.”
Sitting on a small hill outside Beit Sahour, he hugged himself against the cold to still the shivers. Three of the group’s sheep stood near him, nibbling idly at the half-dead grass with no sense of haste whatsoever. He wished they would hurry up as he felt a sudden gust blow up his robes and freeze his nether regions off.
It was the start of winter, just before the end of the calendar year, and Tuvya regretted not acquiring a heavier garment than the one he lounged in now.
“Yeah right,” he muttered to himself. “With what money?”
In this region, being a shepherd didn’t exactly pay a whole lot. But it was worth it to Tuvya and his friends to stay out of the influence of those damn Romans, who wanted their filthy paws in every collection of coins across Judea.
Worth it except on nights like this, when he would have rather been in easy reach of a nice warm tavern where he could rest his gnarled feet by the fire and sit back with a big mug of shekar.
Tuvya had closed his eyes and was dreaming of this when a shout came from over to his left. With reluctance, he opened his eyes, dispelling the fantasy, and craned his neck to see what the yelling was all about.
It was Davin, barely out of sight beyond a small rise. Waving and shouting. Whatever could be the matter?
If one of those blasted sheep had gone and broken its neck while Davin and Ronit were casting lots and betting all their earnings away, Tuvya was going to have their hides instead of the flock’s. Neither of them ever took this job seriously; it seemed like Tuvya was the only mature one among the group.
At 19, he was at least a year older than either of the others, and far more responsible than they.
“What is it?” Tuvya grumbled as he heaved his weary frame over the terrain, trying to see what Davin was getting so excited over.
Eventually he was in range of the younger boy’s exuberance, took in the quivering eyes and flushed skin, and knew that whatever he had seen, it was not some animal injuring itself.
Tuvya began to feel an itch at the bottom of his curiosity.
“You gotta check this out!”
Davin tugged at Tuvya’s frayed sleeve, and with a nervous glance back at his flock, the older boy followed his friend around the side of the low hill.
Well, wasn’t that something?
There, on the other side of the hill, was… a light. A shimmering light, like the one some say they see at times in the northern sky. A rainbow at eye level, flattened into a sheet, and sparkling away only fifty ells from where Tuvya stood.
In front of it, arms outstretched in cautious wonder - too afraid to touch the miracle but too entranced to let it alone - Ronit glided sideways, back and forth. A mere span or two from the surface of the blazing luminescence.
For his part, Tuvya stopped to stare in awe. He dropped the crook-ended staff he had held, not even feeling it clobber his swollen toe when it fell. The sight before his eyes was too grand, too mysterious, too obviously mystical to think of any earthly matters.
What was this?
And then, without warning, the light began to coalesce.
The width of the artifact shrank, causing Ronit to stumble backwards, tumbling onto his tailbone in surprise. In the wink of an eye the wondrous display of light had reduced to the width of a man - then flared outward in a flash that blinded Tuvya for several seconds.
At last the phosphorescent afterglow faded from his vision, and he could behold the sight that lay before his eyes. Whatever Tuvya might have expected to remain in place of that spectacular light show, what he had not anticipated was:
A woman.
Hair the color of honey, like nothing he had beheld before. Eyes a pale blue like the lake after a storm. A face as though carved from marble, perfect and cold.
And the dress. Tuvya had never seen fabric of that type: so soft and yet stiff, holding the shape of its waves and folds. A bright white as though soaked in lye, shining nearly as bright as the light which had now faded from view.
Who was she? What was she?
Several paces ahead of Tuvya, Ronit had changed his position, maneuvering so that he lay face down in front of the stunning woman. Was she a god? Such a question amounted to blasphemy, but the question came unbidden to Tuvya’s mind.
He had not read of any of the Sons of God being female before; it was right there in the name, after all. So if she were not Elohim’s messenger, was she something more like Him instead?
Internally he castigated himself for the thought. And yet it lingered.
Davin had also sunk to his knees, but though Tuvya’s were weak and trembling, still he held his ground. He dared not compound his internal blasphemy with a literal bow to something other than the holy God.
“Well, look at the three of you.”
The woman’s voice was silvery and light, but despite the casual tone a coldness underpinned it. And that accent: Tuvya couldn’t place it.
Somewhere from the far west, he reasoned. It was not Roman, but the accent had some of the same formal precision to it. He had never heard its like before, but its rhythm, the belabored vowel sounds, was appealing.
A private smile haunted the woman’s haughty face as she surveyed the men in awe before her. She knew herself to be superior to the shepherds, but something told Tuvya that she was having… fun. Enjoying wielding her power in such a demonstrative manner to the lowly animal tenders tonight.
But for some reason he did not take offense to the lady’s behavior.
“Get up,” she commanded them gently, an encouraging expression on that sculpted face. “It is not me you need to pay homage to. Instead, I must send you to the stable where a child was just born.”
“A child?” Tuvya wondered.
“A stable?” Davin spat in surprise.
A light trilling laugh fell from the woman’s bow-mouth. “Quite. A humble beginning for a humble babe. And yet this newborn boy could be the salvation of you all.”
Salvation? What miracle was this? Tuvya stepped forward unconsciously. He had to hear more.
“Yes,” the lady said with nod. “That’s it; draw nearer. I shall tell you what I require of you.”
ROOK TO KING'S KNIGHT 4
Xiao Pan chuckled and shook his head. He had not seen that move coming.
His gnarled hand hovered over the black-and-white game board while he deliberated over his decision. Guang had moved his elephant right into Xiao Pan’s path, and it was most inconvenient.
Gingerly, he touched his cannon, saw Guang’s silent chuckle, and withdrew again. He mustn’t be hasty; this could take some time.
“For goodness’s sake, Pan old fellow,” Liu Ying yelled through a mouthful of crusted loaf. “Make your move already!”
Unstirred, Xiao Pan maintained his dutiful watch on the board. “These things cannot be rushed,” he explained calmly. “Men fated to be happy need not haste.”
Ying waved his pudgy hand in dismissal and took another bite from his loaf of bread.
The three men sat in a small but comfortable room in an inn on the outskirts of Ephraim. Their journey here had been long and difficult, but it was nearly at an end.
For tonight, they rested and made leisure.
“Interesting,” came a strange voice from behind Xiao Pan’s shoulder, and he snapped back in surprise.
There, leaning over to peer at the board was a man dressed in a brilliant red hanfu with hands tucked into the opposite sleeves. His flesh was pale, dark hair slicked back, and he had a thin layer of stubble framing the expression of wry amusement above his square jaw.
“You!” Guang leapt to his feet and retreated into the wall, pointing at the intruder.
“Xiangqi.” The stranger nodded as he examined their game board. “I prefer shachmat myself, but there’s no accounting for taste, I suppose.” And he looked up at Xiao Pan who had now reached his feet as well, and grinned widely.
“You’re the one,” Xiao Pan gasped, backing up a pace. Instantly, he recalled that night - months ago - when this very same pale-faced figure had appeared to them in their tent. “You told us about the star.”
Ying choked on some crumbs, not getting up but just as startled as his friends appeared to be. His eyes widened to consume half his face.
The red-clad stranger unfolded his arms, placing each hand at his hip proudly. “And you followed my instructions magnificently. A bit slower, perhaps, than I’d imagined, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“What do you want from us?” Xiao Pan was recovering somewhat now, drawing himself to his full height. He was getting on in years, but he still kept that gong fu, knew he could drop this fellow like a fly if it came to a fight.
Unafraid, the white man stared right back at Xiao Pan. “Same as before. Keep doing what you’re doing. Follow that star.” He hesitated. “Only now… you might encounter a little more resistance.”
And he grimaced apologetically.
So many questions came to mind, not the least of which was: How did you get in here?
But that ceased to trouble Xiao Pan’s mind now. Plainly this was a mystical quest they had been sent on, perhaps ordered by Shangdi himself. Such impish playfulness did not concern him in any way.
What did matter was:
“What resistance?”
The pale man flinched, hiding the reaction by quickly raising his right hand to brush at a loose strand of his slicked hair. But Xiao Pan would not be fooled.
“Ah.” The man chewed at his lip and fussed with his red robes idly. “You see, I’m not quite alone in this venture. I have a… counterpart. An opposite, an opponent if you will. And she… well, she has recruited her own three pawns-- I mean servants, in this crusade.”
Guang finally regained control over his trembling, stepped forward into the conversation. “Three other men? What gifts do they bring the child?”
A subtle humor bubbled beneath the surface of the red-clad man’s face. “No gifts but their own protection.”
That confused Xiao Pan, but Ying got there first as he heaved his massive bulk up to a stand. “Protection? From who?”
“Why, from you.”
What? “We mean the babe no harm,” Xiao Pan spat in shock. “We bring him gifts, as you instructed. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh.”
The man nodded regally. “Yes, yes. But to the… woman who acts against me, these offerings are a threat. And so she has inducted three young shepherds into her employ.”
“Shepherds?” None of this was making any sense to Xiao Pan. “What threat will children who tend a flock pose to the likes of we knowledgable men? With yet strength in our bones, if I may so boast.”
The other man raised his hand in gentle acceptance. “That’s what I told her. And yet she persisted. Perhaps she knows something I do not.”
If this fellow were truly sent of Shangdi, would he be able to be fooled in such a manner by his enemy? Xiao Pan was not sure.
“What do you want us to do?”
The red-garbed man grinned, his eyes glinting with what could be thought of as malice.
His gnarled hand hovered over the black-and-white game board while he deliberated over his decision. Guang had moved his elephant right into Xiao Pan’s path, and it was most inconvenient.
Gingerly, he touched his cannon, saw Guang’s silent chuckle, and withdrew again. He mustn’t be hasty; this could take some time.
“For goodness’s sake, Pan old fellow,” Liu Ying yelled through a mouthful of crusted loaf. “Make your move already!”
Unstirred, Xiao Pan maintained his dutiful watch on the board. “These things cannot be rushed,” he explained calmly. “Men fated to be happy need not haste.”
Ying waved his pudgy hand in dismissal and took another bite from his loaf of bread.
The three men sat in a small but comfortable room in an inn on the outskirts of Ephraim. Their journey here had been long and difficult, but it was nearly at an end.
For tonight, they rested and made leisure.
“Interesting,” came a strange voice from behind Xiao Pan’s shoulder, and he snapped back in surprise.
There, leaning over to peer at the board was a man dressed in a brilliant red hanfu with hands tucked into the opposite sleeves. His flesh was pale, dark hair slicked back, and he had a thin layer of stubble framing the expression of wry amusement above his square jaw.
“You!” Guang leapt to his feet and retreated into the wall, pointing at the intruder.
“Xiangqi.” The stranger nodded as he examined their game board. “I prefer shachmat myself, but there’s no accounting for taste, I suppose.” And he looked up at Xiao Pan who had now reached his feet as well, and grinned widely.
“You’re the one,” Xiao Pan gasped, backing up a pace. Instantly, he recalled that night - months ago - when this very same pale-faced figure had appeared to them in their tent. “You told us about the star.”
Ying choked on some crumbs, not getting up but just as startled as his friends appeared to be. His eyes widened to consume half his face.
The red-clad stranger unfolded his arms, placing each hand at his hip proudly. “And you followed my instructions magnificently. A bit slower, perhaps, than I’d imagined, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“What do you want from us?” Xiao Pan was recovering somewhat now, drawing himself to his full height. He was getting on in years, but he still kept that gong fu, knew he could drop this fellow like a fly if it came to a fight.
Unafraid, the white man stared right back at Xiao Pan. “Same as before. Keep doing what you’re doing. Follow that star.” He hesitated. “Only now… you might encounter a little more resistance.”
And he grimaced apologetically.
So many questions came to mind, not the least of which was: How did you get in here?
But that ceased to trouble Xiao Pan’s mind now. Plainly this was a mystical quest they had been sent on, perhaps ordered by Shangdi himself. Such impish playfulness did not concern him in any way.
What did matter was:
“What resistance?”
The pale man flinched, hiding the reaction by quickly raising his right hand to brush at a loose strand of his slicked hair. But Xiao Pan would not be fooled.
“Ah.” The man chewed at his lip and fussed with his red robes idly. “You see, I’m not quite alone in this venture. I have a… counterpart. An opposite, an opponent if you will. And she… well, she has recruited her own three pawns-- I mean servants, in this crusade.”
Guang finally regained control over his trembling, stepped forward into the conversation. “Three other men? What gifts do they bring the child?”
A subtle humor bubbled beneath the surface of the red-clad man’s face. “No gifts but their own protection.”
That confused Xiao Pan, but Ying got there first as he heaved his massive bulk up to a stand. “Protection? From who?”
“Why, from you.”
What? “We mean the babe no harm,” Xiao Pan spat in shock. “We bring him gifts, as you instructed. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh.”
The man nodded regally. “Yes, yes. But to the… woman who acts against me, these offerings are a threat. And so she has inducted three young shepherds into her employ.”
“Shepherds?” None of this was making any sense to Xiao Pan. “What threat will children who tend a flock pose to the likes of we knowledgable men? With yet strength in our bones, if I may so boast.”
The other man raised his hand in gentle acceptance. “That’s what I told her. And yet she persisted. Perhaps she knows something I do not.”
If this fellow were truly sent of Shangdi, would he be able to be fooled in such a manner by his enemy? Xiao Pan was not sure.
“What do you want us to do?”
The red-garbed man grinned, his eyes glinting with what could be thought of as malice.
BISHOP TAKES PAWN
“Why are we even doing this?”
Tuvya listened to Ronit’s complaint with a shake of the head. He’d been carrying on like this ever since they started the climb up the short hill to Bethlehem.
“You know why.” Tuvya shouldn’t have to explain all of this again already. “Of the three of us, Ronit, you were the one fawning all over that woman’s feet.”
“Yeah.” He huffed and puffed as he pumped his weary legs along the path. “But that was before we had to walk all the way to Bethlehem.”
Davin slapped the back of Ronit’s head in a good-natured fashion. “It’s only a stone’s throw away, you idiot. I’ve chased sheep for farther than that, when they made a run for it.”
As if to demonstrate, he picked up a handful of stones and tossed one in the general direction of the town just up ahead.
It did not make it all the way to the outskirts of the city.
Davin shrugged, squirreling the rest of the smooth stones away in his pouch for use later. He always kept a stash to use in his sling for scaring predators away from the flock. Tuvya himself was lousy with a sling, but in a pinch could do a bit of damage to a lion or a bear with his hefty shepherd’s crook.
Ronit, though, would not be deterred from his whingeing. “I was all ready to go home, sit in front of a fire. Rest these weary bones. Now we have to haul our tired asses to a stable in Bethlehem just to see some baby whose parents were too cheap to pay for a room at the bloody inn.”
“To protect a baby,” Tuvya corrected. The woman in white had been very clear on this. Something was going to threaten the child, someone else was headed his way.
A child of promise, the savior of many. And if the villains journeying here had their way, none of that would come to pass. He would be just another statistic, another name added to the list of boys who did not survive infancy.
Tuvya was not ready to let that happen. He believed in the woman who had sent them on this quest. Believed in the child she had told them about.
His knuckles whitened as he gripped his staff tighter, jamming it harshly into the earth where he walked. If there was anything he could do to stop these evil men, in YHWH’s name he was going to do it!
“There!”
At last the men had reached the borders of Bethlehem, and there - a short ways in - was an open stable with one laden donkey tied up outside. Above the roof a bright star gave light enough to see by, and at once the three of them knew they had arrived at their destination.
“That’s the place,” Davin continued proudly. “I’m certain of it.”
But they did not arrive alone.
Tuvya listened to Ronit’s complaint with a shake of the head. He’d been carrying on like this ever since they started the climb up the short hill to Bethlehem.
“You know why.” Tuvya shouldn’t have to explain all of this again already. “Of the three of us, Ronit, you were the one fawning all over that woman’s feet.”
“Yeah.” He huffed and puffed as he pumped his weary legs along the path. “But that was before we had to walk all the way to Bethlehem.”
Davin slapped the back of Ronit’s head in a good-natured fashion. “It’s only a stone’s throw away, you idiot. I’ve chased sheep for farther than that, when they made a run for it.”
As if to demonstrate, he picked up a handful of stones and tossed one in the general direction of the town just up ahead.
It did not make it all the way to the outskirts of the city.
Davin shrugged, squirreling the rest of the smooth stones away in his pouch for use later. He always kept a stash to use in his sling for scaring predators away from the flock. Tuvya himself was lousy with a sling, but in a pinch could do a bit of damage to a lion or a bear with his hefty shepherd’s crook.
Ronit, though, would not be deterred from his whingeing. “I was all ready to go home, sit in front of a fire. Rest these weary bones. Now we have to haul our tired asses to a stable in Bethlehem just to see some baby whose parents were too cheap to pay for a room at the bloody inn.”
“To protect a baby,” Tuvya corrected. The woman in white had been very clear on this. Something was going to threaten the child, someone else was headed his way.
A child of promise, the savior of many. And if the villains journeying here had their way, none of that would come to pass. He would be just another statistic, another name added to the list of boys who did not survive infancy.
Tuvya was not ready to let that happen. He believed in the woman who had sent them on this quest. Believed in the child she had told them about.
His knuckles whitened as he gripped his staff tighter, jamming it harshly into the earth where he walked. If there was anything he could do to stop these evil men, in YHWH’s name he was going to do it!
“There!”
At last the men had reached the borders of Bethlehem, and there - a short ways in - was an open stable with one laden donkey tied up outside. Above the roof a bright star gave light enough to see by, and at once the three of them knew they had arrived at their destination.
“That’s the place,” Davin continued proudly. “I’m certain of it.”
But they did not arrive alone.
QUEEN TO KING'S ROOK 5
Xiao Pan pulled his camel to a halt, nearly causing Liu Ying to ride over him. The fat man’s camel screeched as it found its nose in its fellow’s rear, but Xiao Pan paid it no heed.
“What is it?” Guang cried, third in the line and therefore unable to see what it was that the others spied.
Pointing ahead, Xiao Pan saw the stable next to the inn, the one with a blazing star directly overhead - a heavenly portent that he and his friends had followed all this way. To this very spot.
Ying puffed his round cheeks. “We’re here. At last!”
Eyeing Xiao Pan curiously, Guang could not help but wonder at the elderly man’s wary attitude. “You fear something. What?”
Xiao Pan shook his head, uncertain. “Coming events cast their shadows before them.”
It was an old saying, and Guang could not see how it applied in this scenario. True, the bright star overhead cast several shadows, but…
Ah. There, between the shacks opposite the inn. Three long and skinny shadows that indicated the presence of some local, underfed boys.
The enemy was already here.
Stepping out now into the light, they revealed themselves to the travelers. Barely old enough to show a wispy growth on their chins, these ragged shepherds were clad in homespun robes frayed at the hems, dirty and grass-stained from their manual labor.
They were the ones who had come here to steal the child.
“Get back!” Ying yelled at the lads, spurring his mount forward. With his bulk, the camel could not attain any notable speed, but he was not attempting to ride the enemy down; merely to drive them into retreat.
In that he was successful, as the Hebrew lads retreated in fear of this large aggressor from the East whose words they could not hope to understand. The one with the crooked staff, however, backed away only so far as to remove himself from the camel’s path. Otherwise, he held his position with determination, gripping his staff between both hands.
Turning his head to glare at his cowering friends, that young man snapped a series of words in his toneless language, the sounds seeming mostly to come from the back of his throat. Then, as Ying hauled his burdened camel around, the shepherd hooked the curve of his staff around the beast’s leg and sent it toppling to the ground.
Ying tumbled after his mount, the two of them trapped in a tangle of limbs on the dusty ground. Xiao Pan dropped from his own camel immediately, rushing to his fat friend’s side.
“Ying! Are you all right?” The portly fellow flailed but seemed largely unharmed - though his legs remained pinned beneath his camel, who appeared to be rather more seriously injured than her rider had been.
Events had taken a turn for the worse. Xiao Pan and his companions had traveled many thousands of miles to see this newborn babe, to protect him from those who sought to snatch him from his mother’s arms.
And now to have their very lives threatened before they had even seen the boy? Xiao Pan grew angry, a red fire hot in the center of his belly.
Despite the age in his gnarled limbs, he knew he could defeat any of these youths in physical combat.
“Guang, take your place. One radish, one hole.” As long-practiced, the two men adopted defensive positions, blocking the shepherds’ route to the stable.
Xiao Pan took up a wushu horse stance, ready to show them just what this old man had in store.
“What is it?” Guang cried, third in the line and therefore unable to see what it was that the others spied.
Pointing ahead, Xiao Pan saw the stable next to the inn, the one with a blazing star directly overhead - a heavenly portent that he and his friends had followed all this way. To this very spot.
Ying puffed his round cheeks. “We’re here. At last!”
Eyeing Xiao Pan curiously, Guang could not help but wonder at the elderly man’s wary attitude. “You fear something. What?”
Xiao Pan shook his head, uncertain. “Coming events cast their shadows before them.”
It was an old saying, and Guang could not see how it applied in this scenario. True, the bright star overhead cast several shadows, but…
Ah. There, between the shacks opposite the inn. Three long and skinny shadows that indicated the presence of some local, underfed boys.
The enemy was already here.
Stepping out now into the light, they revealed themselves to the travelers. Barely old enough to show a wispy growth on their chins, these ragged shepherds were clad in homespun robes frayed at the hems, dirty and grass-stained from their manual labor.
They were the ones who had come here to steal the child.
“Get back!” Ying yelled at the lads, spurring his mount forward. With his bulk, the camel could not attain any notable speed, but he was not attempting to ride the enemy down; merely to drive them into retreat.
In that he was successful, as the Hebrew lads retreated in fear of this large aggressor from the East whose words they could not hope to understand. The one with the crooked staff, however, backed away only so far as to remove himself from the camel’s path. Otherwise, he held his position with determination, gripping his staff between both hands.
Turning his head to glare at his cowering friends, that young man snapped a series of words in his toneless language, the sounds seeming mostly to come from the back of his throat. Then, as Ying hauled his burdened camel around, the shepherd hooked the curve of his staff around the beast’s leg and sent it toppling to the ground.
Ying tumbled after his mount, the two of them trapped in a tangle of limbs on the dusty ground. Xiao Pan dropped from his own camel immediately, rushing to his fat friend’s side.
“Ying! Are you all right?” The portly fellow flailed but seemed largely unharmed - though his legs remained pinned beneath his camel, who appeared to be rather more seriously injured than her rider had been.
Events had taken a turn for the worse. Xiao Pan and his companions had traveled many thousands of miles to see this newborn babe, to protect him from those who sought to snatch him from his mother’s arms.
And now to have their very lives threatened before they had even seen the boy? Xiao Pan grew angry, a red fire hot in the center of his belly.
Despite the age in his gnarled limbs, he knew he could defeat any of these youths in physical combat.
“Guang, take your place. One radish, one hole.” As long-practiced, the two men adopted defensive positions, blocking the shepherds’ route to the stable.
Xiao Pan took up a wushu horse stance, ready to show them just what this old man had in store.
BISHOP TO QUEEN'S ROOK 3
CHECK
CHECK
Tuvya weighed his staff in his hands as the old man with the double eyelids and the wispy gray beard waved his arms in the air and took up a strange crouched position. The man’s muscles were tense, ready for action.
Did this senior citizen think he was going to be able to take on a group of young guys in their prime? If so, he was as crazy as the wild pattern on his silk robes.
Tuvya didn’t enjoy fighting. Once in a while he got into scuffles with some of the other young men in his village, but he never instigated it. His job, however, kept him fighting fit, and when he had to bring it, he definitely had the skills.
And if these strange Eastern men wanted to bury the child in that stable as the White Lady had said, well then Tuvya was going to do what was necessary to stop them.
Before he could act, however, a stone whistled past his face.
Davin had used his sling to hurl one of the smooth pebbles he had collected on their journey toward the old man’s head. Strong, fast, and true it sailed with a slight whistle through the air--
And was easily knocked aside by a swift motion of one of the old guy’s hands.
Tuvya had never seen moves like these. The man’s hands traveled so fast they actually blurred - fingers curled, palms out, long sleeve fluttering behind his movements like a flag. The stone he had so casually knocked aside - eyes never leaving Tuvya’s startled face - rang out as it bounced off of the stone walls of the inn before coming to a clattering rest somewhere off to his right.
Such speed was impossible, surely? Such accuracy of motion. And yet the wrinkled man showed no sign of strain, maintaining his low stance - knees bent near to the ground - with the hint now of a smile on that cracked face.
Not to be defeated, Davin slung a second stone the old man’s way, but this time the guy punched forward - somehow sending the stone zooming right at Tuvya!
It rocketed into his shoulder, stunning him and causing him to drop his staff in pain. His shoulder throbbed, and the loud crack he had heard emanating from it could not be good. As he grasped it with his left hand, the bearded fellow in front of him sprung into action, leaping with one foot aimed out directly at Tuvya’s head.
The battle had been joined.
Did this senior citizen think he was going to be able to take on a group of young guys in their prime? If so, he was as crazy as the wild pattern on his silk robes.
Tuvya didn’t enjoy fighting. Once in a while he got into scuffles with some of the other young men in his village, but he never instigated it. His job, however, kept him fighting fit, and when he had to bring it, he definitely had the skills.
And if these strange Eastern men wanted to bury the child in that stable as the White Lady had said, well then Tuvya was going to do what was necessary to stop them.
Before he could act, however, a stone whistled past his face.
Davin had used his sling to hurl one of the smooth pebbles he had collected on their journey toward the old man’s head. Strong, fast, and true it sailed with a slight whistle through the air--
And was easily knocked aside by a swift motion of one of the old guy’s hands.
Tuvya had never seen moves like these. The man’s hands traveled so fast they actually blurred - fingers curled, palms out, long sleeve fluttering behind his movements like a flag. The stone he had so casually knocked aside - eyes never leaving Tuvya’s startled face - rang out as it bounced off of the stone walls of the inn before coming to a clattering rest somewhere off to his right.
Such speed was impossible, surely? Such accuracy of motion. And yet the wrinkled man showed no sign of strain, maintaining his low stance - knees bent near to the ground - with the hint now of a smile on that cracked face.
Not to be defeated, Davin slung a second stone the old man’s way, but this time the guy punched forward - somehow sending the stone zooming right at Tuvya!
It rocketed into his shoulder, stunning him and causing him to drop his staff in pain. His shoulder throbbed, and the loud crack he had heard emanating from it could not be good. As he grasped it with his left hand, the bearded fellow in front of him sprung into action, leaping with one foot aimed out directly at Tuvya’s head.
The battle had been joined.
KING TO KING'S BISHOP 2
The lady in white watched from a safe location as her three shepherds were attacked by the three wise men from the East. The kids she had picked were young and strong, but the old guys were well-trained and knew ways to tap into the same energies she and her opponent utilized.
If she didn’t do something soon, this battle would be lost.
“Don’t fight back!” she implored them, stepping out of the shadows. “It’s a distraction. The child: get to the child!”
Ronit - the one of the three with the least smarts - was the person who actually seemed to heed the white woman. He glanced over at the dim stable, saw the man and his wife there standing protectively over the feeding trough where they had laid their new son for want of a crib. The new parents were flushed with excitement at the recent birth, but terrified at the battle which threatened their safety now mere hours later.
“Guys,” Ronit said to his buddies as they fought. “I’m gonna look after the kid.”
Tuvya might have had something to say on the matter, but the ancient man he was locked in combat with would take advantage of any moment of inattention.
Beside him, Davin hurled the last of his stones at the man known as Guang who nimbly evaded the deadly projectile. A trickle of blood dripped from his temple where one of the missiles had grazed him, but despite a wildness in his eyes, the man seemed unharmed.
And now he moved the shepherds’ way.
Liu Ying finally freed himself from beneath his lame camel, testing the ability of his own legs to hold his bulk upright. Soon he, too, would join the fray.
It was up to Ronit, then, to reach the babe first.
“No!”
It was him, her opponent. The man in red, this time dressed in attire the wise men he had conscripted would respect - a Chinese hanfu with a serpent depicted on each arm.
His minions would not appreciate the reference, but the white lady definitely did.
“Look up!” the man in red shouted with rage, spittle fountaining from his mouth. “They’re heading for the stable. They’re taking the boy!”
Xiao Pan was still locked in combat with the lead shepherd who had now picked up his staff with his left hand since the right had gone numb. Perhaps the boy was indeed less skilled with that hand, but he could still deliver some damage. The old man may have the spirit of a dragon horse, but he was tied to this pugilistic engagement with no avenue of escape.
Guang had drawn a sword from a sheath on the side of his camel and held it before him to ward off any further stones that might come his way from the rock-slinger opposite him.
Only Liu Ying was in range of the young shepherd, and he heeded his patron’s words. Hauling his bulk over to the side of the inn, he blocked Ronit’s path of entry. He didn’t have the gong fu of his leader, but his innate strength was more than a match for the untrained muscles of the youth before him.
Ronit spoke in words the Chinese man could not possibly comprehend. “Step aside, fat one. You will not take this child’s life today.”
Xiao Pan did not speak Hebrew either, but caught enough words to give him pause. After he hesitated, Tuvya got in a good blow with his staff - and Xiao Pan flung the wooden object away from him in irritation as his ears rung from the blow.
Now they were both unarmed, but Xiao Pan was turning his attention to the two strangers standing on the edge of the shadows which the bright star cast over the rooftops.
“What did he say?”
Xiao Pan demanded the truth from the red-clad man. Did that little Israelite say what he thought he had?
As the stubbled man sank in dejection, a proud smile caught the white woman’s face.
“You may as well tell them why they’re here,” she said to the man at her side. “Tell them what those gifts you had them bring are really for.”
Guang turned his attention from his own enemy, keeping the sword between them nevertheless. “The gold? The frankincense, the myrrh? They are to honor the chosen child.”
“Not… quite,” the one who had put them on this path admitted reluctantly. “They’re sort of… protection. For the child.”
At the white woman’s raised eyebrow, he added:
“For his body. His… dead body.”
By the doorway to the stable, Liu Ying moved from his position. “We would never kill a baby!”
“I’m not asking you to!”
The man in red grew angry now, pacing between his servants in irritation. “No one has to kill anyone. It’s a cold night, the baby’s in a horse trough, for God’s sakes, on the edge of some nowhere town miles from any decent medical treatment. He’ll be lucky if he survives the night. And when he dies…”
Xiao Pan found his own bile rising. “When he dies?”
The man in red stopped, prevaricating. “You anoint his body with the incense, fortify his grave with the gold. It’s the only way to stop her using the body for her abominable practices.”
Now Tuvya, still nursing his injured shoulder, stepped toward the pair. “You want the baby’s body?”
Xiao Pan realized that even though the groups could not understand one another, both sides could understand what the white lady and red man were saying. Interesting.
Whatever the Hebrew boy had said to her, it caused the woman a good deal of discomfort.
“I told you we had to keep the strangers from burying the newborn,” she confessed at last. “I never said you were to prevent his death. He’s already contracted the bacteria that will do him in. It’s just a matter of time, at this point.”
Davin couldn’t believe his ears. “But we’re fighting for a savior of mankind!”
“Yes!” The yellow-haired woman was roused by this concept, eyes filling with fire. “The DNA of this miracle child will bring life to thousands who would perish otherwise. Men and women who I can set on the path of righteousness, nudging them in the right direction once the means of their healing is understood.”
Xiao Pan did not understand all of the words these odd people used. But it was clear that both sides had been misled, been brought to this place under false pretenses.
And yet, perhaps there was still a way out. They could yet exchange weapons of war for gifts of jade and silk. Perhaps if they talked this through, a compromise could--
With a feral cry, Ronit lunged toward the pair of deceivers. It was unclear which of the two was his target, but by some instinct Ying stopped the red-clad man from being attacked. He struck the shepherd on the back of the neck, felling him instantly.
From here, Xiao Pan could not tell if the lad was dead, but he was close enough to it that his friends immediately vowed vengeance and turned on the travelers.
They may have been tricked into this fight, but it was not one they would be able to walk away from now.
If she didn’t do something soon, this battle would be lost.
“Don’t fight back!” she implored them, stepping out of the shadows. “It’s a distraction. The child: get to the child!”
Ronit - the one of the three with the least smarts - was the person who actually seemed to heed the white woman. He glanced over at the dim stable, saw the man and his wife there standing protectively over the feeding trough where they had laid their new son for want of a crib. The new parents were flushed with excitement at the recent birth, but terrified at the battle which threatened their safety now mere hours later.
“Guys,” Ronit said to his buddies as they fought. “I’m gonna look after the kid.”
Tuvya might have had something to say on the matter, but the ancient man he was locked in combat with would take advantage of any moment of inattention.
Beside him, Davin hurled the last of his stones at the man known as Guang who nimbly evaded the deadly projectile. A trickle of blood dripped from his temple where one of the missiles had grazed him, but despite a wildness in his eyes, the man seemed unharmed.
And now he moved the shepherds’ way.
Liu Ying finally freed himself from beneath his lame camel, testing the ability of his own legs to hold his bulk upright. Soon he, too, would join the fray.
It was up to Ronit, then, to reach the babe first.
“No!”
It was him, her opponent. The man in red, this time dressed in attire the wise men he had conscripted would respect - a Chinese hanfu with a serpent depicted on each arm.
His minions would not appreciate the reference, but the white lady definitely did.
“Look up!” the man in red shouted with rage, spittle fountaining from his mouth. “They’re heading for the stable. They’re taking the boy!”
Xiao Pan was still locked in combat with the lead shepherd who had now picked up his staff with his left hand since the right had gone numb. Perhaps the boy was indeed less skilled with that hand, but he could still deliver some damage. The old man may have the spirit of a dragon horse, but he was tied to this pugilistic engagement with no avenue of escape.
Guang had drawn a sword from a sheath on the side of his camel and held it before him to ward off any further stones that might come his way from the rock-slinger opposite him.
Only Liu Ying was in range of the young shepherd, and he heeded his patron’s words. Hauling his bulk over to the side of the inn, he blocked Ronit’s path of entry. He didn’t have the gong fu of his leader, but his innate strength was more than a match for the untrained muscles of the youth before him.
Ronit spoke in words the Chinese man could not possibly comprehend. “Step aside, fat one. You will not take this child’s life today.”
Xiao Pan did not speak Hebrew either, but caught enough words to give him pause. After he hesitated, Tuvya got in a good blow with his staff - and Xiao Pan flung the wooden object away from him in irritation as his ears rung from the blow.
Now they were both unarmed, but Xiao Pan was turning his attention to the two strangers standing on the edge of the shadows which the bright star cast over the rooftops.
“What did he say?”
Xiao Pan demanded the truth from the red-clad man. Did that little Israelite say what he thought he had?
As the stubbled man sank in dejection, a proud smile caught the white woman’s face.
“You may as well tell them why they’re here,” she said to the man at her side. “Tell them what those gifts you had them bring are really for.”
Guang turned his attention from his own enemy, keeping the sword between them nevertheless. “The gold? The frankincense, the myrrh? They are to honor the chosen child.”
“Not… quite,” the one who had put them on this path admitted reluctantly. “They’re sort of… protection. For the child.”
At the white woman’s raised eyebrow, he added:
“For his body. His… dead body.”
By the doorway to the stable, Liu Ying moved from his position. “We would never kill a baby!”
“I’m not asking you to!”
The man in red grew angry now, pacing between his servants in irritation. “No one has to kill anyone. It’s a cold night, the baby’s in a horse trough, for God’s sakes, on the edge of some nowhere town miles from any decent medical treatment. He’ll be lucky if he survives the night. And when he dies…”
Xiao Pan found his own bile rising. “When he dies?”
The man in red stopped, prevaricating. “You anoint his body with the incense, fortify his grave with the gold. It’s the only way to stop her using the body for her abominable practices.”
Now Tuvya, still nursing his injured shoulder, stepped toward the pair. “You want the baby’s body?”
Xiao Pan realized that even though the groups could not understand one another, both sides could understand what the white lady and red man were saying. Interesting.
Whatever the Hebrew boy had said to her, it caused the woman a good deal of discomfort.
“I told you we had to keep the strangers from burying the newborn,” she confessed at last. “I never said you were to prevent his death. He’s already contracted the bacteria that will do him in. It’s just a matter of time, at this point.”
Davin couldn’t believe his ears. “But we’re fighting for a savior of mankind!”
“Yes!” The yellow-haired woman was roused by this concept, eyes filling with fire. “The DNA of this miracle child will bring life to thousands who would perish otherwise. Men and women who I can set on the path of righteousness, nudging them in the right direction once the means of their healing is understood.”
Xiao Pan did not understand all of the words these odd people used. But it was clear that both sides had been misled, been brought to this place under false pretenses.
And yet, perhaps there was still a way out. They could yet exchange weapons of war for gifts of jade and silk. Perhaps if they talked this through, a compromise could--
With a feral cry, Ronit lunged toward the pair of deceivers. It was unclear which of the two was his target, but by some instinct Ying stopped the red-clad man from being attacked. He struck the shepherd on the back of the neck, felling him instantly.
From here, Xiao Pan could not tell if the lad was dead, but he was close enough to it that his friends immediately vowed vengeance and turned on the travelers.
They may have been tricked into this fight, but it was not one they would be able to walk away from now.
PAWN TO QUEEN'S ROOK 4
In front of the man and woman’s faces, the shepherds and the wise men began to slaughter each other. One by one, the men went down, and it became clear very soon that neither side would emerge victorious from this conflict.
“Your boys fight very well.” There was a weariness to the man in red’s voice, but the compliment was sincere.
“I’m surprised your people are falling so easily.”
“They shouldn’t. They’re very well-trained.”
“I suppose mine just want it more.”
The man with the red robe had to give her that one. Since his side had struck first, the others fought with righteous fury. No wonder they were a match for the calmer technique of the Eastern mystics.
“Either way, they’re all going to be dead in a minute.”
The blonde woman displayed a cold smile. “Which means there will be no one to stop me getting my hands on the child.”
He gave her a calculating look. “Except for me.”
With a bell-like laugh, she responded: “That would be against your little rules, remember. Break those, and you forfeit the game.”
There she had him. But a glance back at the stable where the baby ought to lay revealed a surprising turn of events.
“Perhaps snatching this corpse might be a little beyond even you now.”
Shocked, the lady turned to see what he was looking at. The couple was gone, and the child with them.
Searching the dark surroundings, she saw that they rode away on a donkey, as fast as the beast of burden could carry them.
“Where do they think they’re going at this time of night?”
The man grinned, happy now despite his losses. “Somewhere with better medical care, I’d say.” He pointed in the direction they sped off. “Keep going thataway, you could run right over as far as Egypt. Good place to lie low when you know there are people like us after you.”
Her lips pressed together into a tight line, her blue eyes burning with an icy fire.
But there was nothing she could do about it now, and they both knew it.
In front of them, Tuvya gasped his last breaths, Guang’s sword sticking out of his chest. Xiao Pan’s neck hung at an odd angle, and as the man in red watched, the light of life fled from his still form.
“That’s it then.” The man sighed. “Another group of soldiers dead on the battlefield. Sometimes, you know, it feels like such a waste.”
The woman in white turned to him with an expression of eagerness on her face. “Actually,” she said in that cold, precise accent of hers, “I’ve been thinking about that.”
“About what?”
“About the fighting. The people we conscript. There may be a better way - or at least a more interesting one.”
That intrigued him. “Tell me more.”
She smiled. “As it is, we haul these poor fellows halfway across the world sometimes, making them do all the work. No wonder they’re too tired to do anything about it once they get here.”
“What’s your solution?”
“A Sleepwar.”
The word meant nothing to the man in red. “Sleepwar?”
“If I were to, occasionally, snatch a couple of these youngsters while they sleep, give them sleepforms to do my bidding in, I could send them wherever I desired without their having to lift a finger.”
It was an intriguing idea. Maybe not for every facet of their battle together, but the self-styled Red King could see himself using just such a measure for certain isolated events.
They would have to discuss this. At length.
After all, they had all the time in the world.
“Your boys fight very well.” There was a weariness to the man in red’s voice, but the compliment was sincere.
“I’m surprised your people are falling so easily.”
“They shouldn’t. They’re very well-trained.”
“I suppose mine just want it more.”
The man with the red robe had to give her that one. Since his side had struck first, the others fought with righteous fury. No wonder they were a match for the calmer technique of the Eastern mystics.
“Either way, they’re all going to be dead in a minute.”
The blonde woman displayed a cold smile. “Which means there will be no one to stop me getting my hands on the child.”
He gave her a calculating look. “Except for me.”
With a bell-like laugh, she responded: “That would be against your little rules, remember. Break those, and you forfeit the game.”
There she had him. But a glance back at the stable where the baby ought to lay revealed a surprising turn of events.
“Perhaps snatching this corpse might be a little beyond even you now.”
Shocked, the lady turned to see what he was looking at. The couple was gone, and the child with them.
Searching the dark surroundings, she saw that they rode away on a donkey, as fast as the beast of burden could carry them.
“Where do they think they’re going at this time of night?”
The man grinned, happy now despite his losses. “Somewhere with better medical care, I’d say.” He pointed in the direction they sped off. “Keep going thataway, you could run right over as far as Egypt. Good place to lie low when you know there are people like us after you.”
Her lips pressed together into a tight line, her blue eyes burning with an icy fire.
But there was nothing she could do about it now, and they both knew it.
In front of them, Tuvya gasped his last breaths, Guang’s sword sticking out of his chest. Xiao Pan’s neck hung at an odd angle, and as the man in red watched, the light of life fled from his still form.
“That’s it then.” The man sighed. “Another group of soldiers dead on the battlefield. Sometimes, you know, it feels like such a waste.”
The woman in white turned to him with an expression of eagerness on her face. “Actually,” she said in that cold, precise accent of hers, “I’ve been thinking about that.”
“About what?”
“About the fighting. The people we conscript. There may be a better way - or at least a more interesting one.”
That intrigued him. “Tell me more.”
She smiled. “As it is, we haul these poor fellows halfway across the world sometimes, making them do all the work. No wonder they’re too tired to do anything about it once they get here.”
“What’s your solution?”
“A Sleepwar.”
The word meant nothing to the man in red. “Sleepwar?”
“If I were to, occasionally, snatch a couple of these youngsters while they sleep, give them sleepforms to do my bidding in, I could send them wherever I desired without their having to lift a finger.”
It was an intriguing idea. Maybe not for every facet of their battle together, but the self-styled Red King could see himself using just such a measure for certain isolated events.
They would have to discuss this. At length.
After all, they had all the time in the world.
FIN