Warsworn

threatened to smother Keir in his sleep, and stomped out of the tent, I knew it was time to resort to desperate measures. I started reading long passages to him from the Epic
    of Xyson .
    The Epic had been written about the battles of the second King of Xy, and it was one of the dullest pieces of history that had ever been written. But Keir lay curled under the covers, listening with rapt attention as I droned on and on about military matters, army maneuvers and planning. " 'Upon the dawn, King Xyson mounted his war-horse, Greatheart and…'" I paused, remembering. That was the horse's name. Greatheart.
    "You name your horses?" Keir asked, looking puzzled.
    I rolled my eyes and continued, but other than that the tale bored me to tears. There was only so much I could take, reading it aloud.
    There had to be another way to keep a Warlord busy.
    "This is a playing board."
    "The squares?"
    "Yes." I set the board by his side and sat on the edge of the bed. Keir curled onto his side, studying the board. I held out a piece in my hand. "This is the King. He is the tallest piece on the board. He moves one square in any direction."
    Keir studied the piece of wood. "There are two kings."
    "Yes. Yours and mine." I positioned the kings on the board. "They start here."
    "Always?"
    "Yes."
    Keir grunted. "So. A war."
    I nodded as I reached for the next piece. "The smallest pieces are the pawns. They go here, forming a line." Keir reached out to help me place the small black and white river stones that I'd gathered. Black for him and white for me.
    Slowly, I took him through each piece, their names, how they moved, what power they had. I explained the board and the colors. The problem occurred when we reached the bishop. I tried to explain their role in the church, but all I got for my trouble was a grim look of doubt. "So. They are warrior-priests."
    A brief vision of the florid face of Archbishop Drizen covered in tattoos had me speechless for a moment. "No, not exactly."
    "But these bishops, they act to protect their king? Their people?"
    "Yes, of course." I bit my lip, re-thinking my words. "Well, some care more for their status than their people, but the good ones—"
    "Ah." Keir nodded. "Warrior-priests." His tone was one of disdain as he clutched the stone tight in his hand.
    I reached over, and touched his fist, gently pulling the piece from his fingers. "You hate them, don't you? Because of Marcus?"
    His jaw clenched, and there was a pause before he answered. "It goes beyond Marcus, though that alone was enough. I will see them broken and destroyed."
    "Keir," There was so much I didn't understand. "If they are as powerful as you say they are—
    "
    He gave me a tight smile, and shook his head. "That is for another day, Lara. This piece here, this 'castle'. Castles do not move." Keir frowned at the piece on the board. "Why do they move?"
    "They just do." I sighed, resigned to the change of subject.
    "It should be called something else." Keir looked at me intently.
    "Whose game is this, anyway?" I asked. "Let's go over the moves one more time." With his memory, it took no time at all. Once he had them down, he looked at me expectantly.
    "The best way to learn is to play." I moved one of my center pawns out. Keir gave the board a close look, and then lifted an eyebrow at me, his eyes sparkling for the first time since he'd gotten sick. Father had taught me chess long ago, and we'd played many games during his illness. I knew myself to be a fair player. Father usually won, since he'd had an uncanny knack of holding all the possible moves in his head well in advance of the actual turns. I knew that once Keir learned the strategies behind the moves, I'd never be able to beat him. Best to take full advantage while I could.
    Keir made his first move carefully. I reached out and advanced another piece, and then watched as he committed a classic beginner's mistake.
    A few more moves and I had him. "Checkmate."
    "What?" Keir frowned, glaring at the pieces. "What did I do wrong?" I stood up. "When you figure it out, call me, and we'll play another game." He was muttering under his breath as I left the tent.
    I was doomed.
    It had taken most of a day for Keir to pick up the basics. I'd gone about my business at the stilltent, returning when Keir would bellow, make my move, smile and then leave to let him contemplate the possibilities. This frustrated him to no end. But once he learned to avoid the basic mistakes, he started to take great