Friendly fire

Friendly fire

Things were not tranquil in the Black camp.  Battle was imminent and the king was brooding.  His moods were typically dark but on this occasion he was fixated on a notion that his officers were reluctant to endorse.  He had been railing against his lack of mobility on the chessboard, on the responsibilities placed on him, but most of all over a humiliating smothered mate in the most recent match.  Bad enough when a rook would pounce on a vacant back rank to terminate his reign or any number of other ends but this last time had seen him surrounded by his own men and impotent.  “I don’t see the problem,” he thundered at a bishop.  “I can sacrifice them anyway; if I lose, it is over for all of us.  Why then can I not just wipe them from my path when threatened?”

His queen laid a graceful hand on his own and gently observed “Husband, the troops have enough to face from the enemy; do they really need to fear us too?”  He snorted.  “Fine for you, sweeping the board and burning bright for the time you are active, whereas I sit boxed in waiting for death.  In fact,” he went on impatiently, “All of you will benefit from a change – if you could brush aside a lowly pawn, then a rook could be active immediately or a bishop could break through a closed centre.”  He looked triumphantly at them.

“But sire, it’s the law” stammered the knight nearest him.  “Laws change!” he bellowed back.  “Pawns did not always surge forward at the start of games – this too was for mobility and the freedom of all of you.  Castling was introduced to protect me, there is your precedent!  Moving two pieces at once would have seemed ridiculous at the time.  A capture is a capture.  What matters the colour of the pawn… or piece… taken this way?”  This last warning growl told his advisers that he was determined.  The arguments went on for a while, for decency’s sake, but in the end the king got his way and it was adopted on a trial basis.  The eight of them left the war council’s tent to brief the unsuspecting pawns and stood together to show unity in front of the lesser ones, no matter their misgivings.

The king announced gruffly “From now on, when we are called to chess battles, expediency will decide the outcome, not some outmoded traditions.  In short:  get in my way and there will be summary executions.”  As he started to drone on at them about duty and fealty, the senior pieces could see a mixture of bewilderment and shock in the cluster of pawns.  The queen smoothly spoke up, with finesse her mate had never mastered, so consumed by his sense of divine right.  “My people, it would be a last resort only.  I care for you, as my children.  Over all our battles, many of you have been called to assume my duties at one time or another.  I am proud of you all, charging fearlessly and stalwartly holding the lines as required.  If one of you has to fall, then I will mourn you but it will never be without good reason.”

The king stifled his irritation at her intervention; he did value the calm she so easily spread through the pawns who loved and trusted her.  They were a pair, he reminded himself; this was no slight on him as they were one crown and authority entwined.

Hostilities were due to start and the royals led their forces to the field.  The black king informed the opposing side of his intention to change battle orders to permit “friendly fire”, something that evidently appalled them, high and low alike.  The white king slowly nodded but replied that his forces would not be exercising that option.  The black king smiled as he realised that they were unsettled by his resolute proclamation; this would work in his favour.

The queen personally saw the pawns to their positions, touching each one lightly on the head for assurance, before taking her place alongside her king.  The contest was finally underway and things were familiar and normal to a point, the pawns belief in their role outweighing the current of nervousness.  Orders and countermoves were given and obeyed.  All was not right, though, the queen sensed; normally the king would castle to safety but he was holding off, taking greater risk by staying in the centre.  She wanted to urge him to seek sanctuary but a look about him stopped her.  The white army surged for blood, launching a customary attack against a vulnerable enemy.  To her horror, the queen realised her lord’s intent; white would bludgeon, sacrificing pieces for an overwhelming onslaught but the black king had decided to march to safety through his own forces’ bodies, coming out slightly ahead.

“Attrition?” she asked him softly.  His manic glee was clear now.  A first white sacrifice had happened at the pawn structure to break open lines; now a second piece sacrifice came and he captured it at f7.  As the next pieces attacked, the king retreated to e7 and then started towards his knight at d7 blocking his path, his mind clear.  His turn took him face to face with his queen who shook her head sadly.  “No.”  The move became hers instead, no longer waiting for his directions and she stepped into him.  He bellowed for his troops to stop the treacherous queen but all heads were bowed towards her.

“You are only the most powerful piece because I allow it, my lord.  Let this one moment of madness never be repeated and order shall reign.”  Saying this, she advanced onto his square, capturing him, to cheers from her own men and astonishment from most of the white pieces, apart from the white royal family, who had wry smiles.  The black king thereafter remembered that the term relative value of pieces did not just apply to those under his control and never again tried to wield friendly fire.

Bravo!!

Yes, there is a chess variant called "friendly fire  chess", where you can capture own pieces to avoid a checkmate or to check or to move further.