iv
The Competition
Luke awoke to find himself lying on the floor beside the chess board. He went to wake his father, feeling tired and a little strange, only to find him already up and standing by the window. He seemed deep in thought. A blinding sun had flooded the city, it lay before them bathed in a heavy pink mist. A cart piled high with wood was rolling along the bank of the river, silvery ribbons of light rippled on the surface like so many eels. Smoke was rising from chimneys in the centre. Father and son stood together and watched the city as it awakened, flocks of birds flying low over the rooftops, a boy running across a square with something in his arms, old horses clomping along the narrow streets. It was strange to see all this from the window of a castle!
They hastened to their task, tactics, basics... At nine sharp they were escorted through long corridors by a line of courtiers in smart silver suits to a huge, brightly lit ballroom already crammed with terribly ugly men and women, all bedecked in fancy clothes. When they saw Peter's long beard they started whispering to each other and sneering. Luke felt sorry for his father and reached for his hand. In the centre of the room stood a small table and a chess board. Luke couldn't believe his eyes. The pieces glistening under the chandelier looked like real diamonds. He was lead to the table and his father was asked to stand aside. Putting his large hand on Luke's shoulder, father brought him close and whispered in his ear, 'Luke, listen! Winning is not everything. Be polite at all times and we'll soon be home.'
Luke looked at his father and was puzzled. Suddenly there was a hush, and a fluttering of fans, 'the Princess!' someone declared. In a flash a young girl, much smaller than Luke, walked proudly up to the table and sat down. He had never seen a child look so grown up before. Her eyes were heavy with make-up, she wore a silver dress, speckled with shiny red flowers, and fine lace sleeves. Her necklace was a string of stars.
Someone struck a gong and pronounced very slowly, 'Let the game begin.' Luke was offered the choice of colour and pointed to black. This brought some utterances of surprise. Luke chose black for two reasons, firstly, he felt calmer and stronger playing with black, rather than being a move behind, he felt as if he had the advantage of seeing a player's hand before they threw the cards, and secondly, he noticed that opponents often made more errors when they were white, seemingly under pressure to attack... The young girl, who never once looked at Luke, made the first move. Luke remembered his father's words and kept his hands under the table, and despite all the penetrating eyes upon him, tried not to tremble. The game was on!
He moved. She took the centre. He took the flanks, laying his foundations carefully. They both played with calm diligence and admirable concentration. After some thirty minutes or so, many moves had been exchanged but both were equal in position. The crowd had no idea who had the advantage. The lights sparkled and glared, the atmosphere remained tense. And then Luke yawned, he was still tired after the long journey and restless night. He looked around the room. The spectators seemed insulted, and they let their feelings be known. Luke looked down. It's only a yawn! Then something odd happened. With a quick glance at her opponent, her first one, she moved her white knight, a piece easily as elegant as the horses that had brought him to her kingdom. But where had it come from? Luke rubbed his eyes, for they were watering. All the pieces were merging together under the bright lights... Luke looked hard at the board but somehow couldn't retrace it back to any position. He saw now that the Princess was staring at him boldly. He looked over to his father. But father was not watching, he was looking down at the floor. Father? he thought.
He moved. Like lightning she picked up her castle and shouted 'Check. Ha!' It was the first time he had heard her speaking, the unmistakable voice of a spoilt child. Luke was so surprised that he forgot everything. Everyone was looking, murmuring, tittering. His fingers seemed to be twitching of their own accord. He moved quickly, blocked with a bishop, at which she let out a loud snort and practically jumped on the board. Quick as lightning, she picked up her queen and threw her into the fray. But where had she moved the queen from? Luke blinked, rubbed his eyes again. All the pieces, glistening under the bright lights of the chandeliers, were becoming blurred. And now, to his astonishment, he could see he was in real danger. He scratched his head, which was very unlike him, and somebody laughed. Luke moved another piece, but once again too hastily. He saw even while he was moving that she could easily take it and march on. What was happening?
The girl whooped in delight. With wild eyes, she drummed her fingers on the table and stared into his confused face. Luke could see now that he was going to lose. There was nothing he could do. He planted his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his palms. One by one, he lost all his pieces, even his favourites. The strange thing was, as he did so, he began to grow calmer, as if there was nothing for it but to finish the game, shake hands and go home. So this is what it feels like to lose, he thought, and he smiled, it was a smile of pleasurable relief. And the more pieces he lost, the calmer he grew, the closer to home he felt, and the wider his smile became. What is losing? It's nothing at all! Suddenly he thought of his mother, standing in the kitchen next to the old stove, and of the table carved from the forest where they ate breakfast and supper together. Home! How good it would be to sit beside the fire, and walk in the forest! He looked at the girl. Instead of concentrating on the game now, he relaxed, leant back and began to study his opponent. Mother will want to know! This Princess was spoilt, he decided, and quite ugly to boot! No, she wasn't very well mannered at all. Though she was dressed like a future queen and excited to be winning, her eyes seemed dull and her movements weary. How could that be? Her clothes looked fabulously expensive and yet uncomfortable to wear. She seemed irritable, and two little lines kept appearing just above her nose, which made her look cross. A lovely picture she would make!
The end of the game was upon him. She should have made that final move by now. She should have shouted 'checkmate.' But Luke saw that she had folded her arms and was staring at him. Luke became uneasy, but remembering his father's words, he breathed in deeply and gave her a smile as bright as day, as clear as his conscience.
'Why are you smiling?' she demanded to know.
'Because you are about to win!'
She frowned. 'Why aren't you angry? Why?'
Luke saw the spoilt, angry look in her eyes and wanted to tell her about the forest, about all the adventures he had had there, swimming in the river, building secret houses in trees, feeding the squirrels and searching for treasure with his friends. He even thought of telling her about his friend, the moon. Moon! He had forgotten about his friend!
But the crowds of onlookers were growing impatient. Some of them were shouting, 'Move! Finish him!'
But she didn't move. She was staring at Luke in amazement.
'Aren't you afraid?' she asked.
'Afraid? It's only chess!'
The Princess's expression had changed. She bowed her head for a moment, and then looked Luke straight in the eye.
'What's your name?' she asked.
'Luke!' he replied, 'what about you?'
Those funny lines appeared above her nose.
'Me? I'm the... no, I'm...' she hesitated. 'My name is...' She looked round, turned up the underside of her sleeve...
'... Chandrabhaga,' she said at last. 'My name is Chandrabhaga!'
Luke repeated the name after her. How strange! He liked this name.
'Well, Chandrabhaga, you should be pleased. You're the champion!'
But Chandrabhaga didn't look pleased at all. She looked horrified. Her mouth seemed to wobble all by itself. Small diamonds started to twinkle in her eyes and career down her cheeks. Luke watched them falling... he was amazed to see in them the colours of his garden, apples and poppies, and tiny points of light dancing.
'Chandrabhaga!' he said quietly, 'what's the matter?'
All of a sudden she seemed very frightened. She glanced quickly at someone in the room, stared at Luke for a lon
g moment, and with a tremendous swipe of her arm, knocked over her king and burst into uncontrollable sobs.
Cries of 'No!' and 'Horror!' rang out all around them.
'But Chandrabhaga, you won!' Luke whispered.
'I don't want to win,' she cried, 'I don't want to win! I want...'
She had no time to finish. She was pulled away by a woman whose face was covered in blue powder. There was uproar. People started pushing and shouting. In the chaos that followed, Luke and his father were able to slip away and run to their room. They started packing immediately.
'Father,' Luke said, 'she was better.'
Before his father could reply, a loud crash against the door startled them. The great pudding burst in - his cheeks burning, 'Your coach leaves in five minutes,' he boomed, 'please be on it. The King is not amused. Not amused at all.' He stared at them as if completely astonished, and then slammed the door shut.
They were hastily escorted through the castle grounds. Storm clouds had gathered over the castle. The sky had grown very dark and the once magnificent city seemed to have fallen into ruin. Grubby children ran about with no shoes on. Hunched-up women stood on corners with frail hands out-stretched. Luke and his father were pushed along to where the coach was waiting. The six white horses had been replaced with four tired-looking brown ones. The grey-haired coachman looked as if he had just that second fallen out of bed. As Luke was about to climb into the carriage, a small child in rags ran up to him, pushed something into his hand and ran away without looking back. Luke wanted to call after him but there was no time, his father had lifted him up, climbed in himself, and with a mighty 'whoa' and a crack of the whip, they were off.
'Don't look back,' his father said. But Luke couldn't help it. He looked back at the castle, at all the people running about like chickens without heads. He looked back because he didn't understand anything that had happened. Everyone was being pushed outside. The gates all around the castle walls were being closed. Trumpets were being blown. And there, high up in one of the small windows of the tower, Luke thought he saw something glitter, a shard of mirror perhaps, against the ever darkening sky, before someone pulled the large green shutter to.