Maybe a good idea would be to make all these short stories into a makeshift book and sell copies at a nearby chess club because all of them are great reads
Story: When Immortals Duel
Sort:
Thanks a lot, way, thats the nicest thing anyone has said on any of them.
Cool stuff. Figured it was Saemisch vs Nimzowitsch once the word zugzwang was uttered.
When Immortals Duel
Prelude: Somewhere in the skies over Arabia, early in the 11th century, two ethereal beings swung huge tulwars at each other, at a pace that would have torn mortal limbs from sockets. One was demonic in form, his ridged horns seeming to stick even further out from his forehead than normal, such was his rage and effort to lop something vital with his mighty curved sword. The object of his hateful attentions was angelic in form but with more passion than one normally thought of in these celestial beings – his features, likewise, reflected an eternity of enmity for his foe. With one more supreme clash of steel on steel they broke apart and circled warily. Both were dripping from open wounds on their bodies and wings – the angel's blood sparkled red and blue alternately, the demon's ichor pulsed a luminous green. Belphegor, the demon, suddenly charged, raising his tulwar over his head threatening a horrendous slash downwards. Chamuel waited till the last split-second then pirouetted sideways, surging up and forwards with a flick of his wings, his own sword a blur of motion. Belphegor continued his charge into the space the angel had occupied till with a blink of confusion he realised he no longer had a weapon, nor most of his right arm – the stump enthusiastically spouted ichor. Chamuel raised his sword again but Belphegor cried out “I yield, damn you. Enough.”
Chamuel in an instant was serene, his purpose gone and he replied smoothly “Then leave this plane, foul brother, and let none of your ilk attempt passage for another millenium, as per the covenant. Thus has it always been, thus shall it always be.” The demon nodded and picked up his severed arm, which floated nearby, with his remaining hand. “Aye, till next time...brother. And next time I may have a surprise for you.” For this was the condition of the covenant – that evil could pick the type of battle between the immortal champions and good would have to defend till it lost, at which time the demons could rule the Earth.
A thousand years passed...
They met again, healed – the thousand years had been spent for the demon in torment, not all of it Belphegor's own, and in meditation for Chamuel, but for both of them it may as well have been the blink of an eye – they existed mainly for these meetings and in some ways were closer to each other than to their own kin. This time it seemed, instead of weapons, Belphegor carried a patterned wooden box. He opened this up and proceeded to reveal chesspieces which he then laid out in starting positions on the opened box which had a chessboard on the outside. This then was the demon's trickery – for how could a pious angel hope to compete with the deviousness of a creature of darkness at a subtle contest like chess? Chamuel waved and seats and a table appeared formed from the clouds. The demon held out both hands with a pawn concealed in each; Chamuel pointed knowingly at the hand he had severed those centuries ago – the fingers unfurled, revealing a black pawn. Sides now chosen, they sat to the game.
Belphegor smiled inwardly. He had spent the last few hundred years preparing for this match. Thousands upon thousands of chessplayers in hell had been assigned to him by the Prince of Darkness and he had tortured them for tips on how to play till they had even disclosed patterns they had not known they were aware of. Among them Grandmasters, like so many other mortals, who had neglected their souls in pursuit of more cerebral matters; he had had no shortage of teachers. Having a demon's ability to catalog billions of details he had absorbed far more than any human player could – without possibly the same level of intuition but with real number-crunching skills. He was filled to the brim with traps, tactical ploys and strategems. This should be easy.
He confidently pushed his queen's pawn forward. Chamuel looked at this solemnly then picked up his kingside knight and deployed it. “Right then” laughed the demon, “We got a game.” He had wondered if the angel would even know what to do. He applied pressure in the centre with another pawn and grinned at Chamuel as the angel responded instantly with a pawn of his own. [1) d4 Nf6, 2) c4 e6]
Clearly his ancient heavenly foe had some idea what he was doing. As the play revealed, they were both following “opening theory” - Belphegor developed a knight and they both maneuvered bishops into the game. “Ahh, so you favour the queen's indian system, Chamuel?” The angel looked at him with a carefully blank expression. The next few moves were still within the parameters the demon had gleaned from the masters he had interrogated – they both castled, jostled in the centre and then Belphegor played a bishop out. To his surprise however, the angel finally deviated from the demon's theory lines with a simple pawn move. Belphegor was at the same time puzzled (as he had expected the queenside knight to come out) and delighted for advantage must surely be his, the angel having lost vital development time. [3) Nf3 b6, 4) g3 Bb7, 5) Bg2 Be7, 6) Nc3 0-0, 7) 0-0 d5, 8) Ne5 c6, 9) cd cd, 10) Bf4 a6]
The demon gripped his head in his huge red-brown hands, talons massaging his temples. Time to think at last. Completing his development seemed key here, from what he had learned. He brought his rook to the open file, confident that he was ahead. Chamuel responded with another pawn move; rather than be wildly happy about this, though, Belphegor started to get worried: his foe might be behind on development but the c4 square was gripped by black and may be a problem. Also, Chamuel did not look worried – quite the opposite: the angel clicked his fingers and a little grooming brush appeared – he started to smooth his feathers with it. The demon brought his queen out and was immediately met with the last knight coming out. This was what he had expected but also feared – this nimble piece could re-route into that annoying c4 square, dominating Belphegor's queenside. With a muttered curse the demon snapped off the knight with his one and the angel smoothly recaptured. It wasn't pretty and it lost the initiative but somehow the demon felt he had lost the grip of what was happening – nothing he could pin down, just a feeling. [11) Rc1 b5, 12) Qb3 Nc6, 13) Nxc6 Bxc6.]
He glared at his haloed opponent and switched his attention to his kingside, creating a little safe haven for his king. A mysterious little queen move from Chamuel saw Belphegor shake his head and place his king in the space he had created with his last pawn move. Then finally the angel created a threat, attacking the demon's bishop with his knight – he retreated it then looked on curiously as the angel advanced another pawn. He decided to brazen it out and drily commented “Angels rush in where fools fear to tread?” Chamuel did not seem to rise to the bait and the demon dropped his queen back to cover the kingside action with a veiled threat on the knight. His heart sank as Chamuel pushed a pawn against his own knight, forcing it back to its home square. Part of him was beginning to wonder if the pawn move that deviated from theory those moves back was not some long term plan for dominance on the queenside...impossible, the angel just had gotten some lucky breaks. One of the angel's bishops pounced on a diagonal and Belphegor retreated another piece. The other bishop lined up with the demon's king. Things were getting metaphorically hot, even for a creature used to the lake of fire. [14) h3 Qd7, 15) Kh2 Nh5, 16) Bd2 f5, 17) Qd1 b4, 18) Nb1 Bb5, 19) Rg1 Bd6.]
But what was this, wondered the demon. All through the game Chamuel had played with barely a moment's hesitation – was this now a blunder? Belphegor could launch a discovered attack on the knight with tempo then close things down in the centre with another pawn advance...the angel had obviously rushed this too much. He seized the e-pawn and advanced it. To his horror the angel ignored his vulnerable knight and took the pawn. Committed now he took the knight and saw another one of his pawns fall to a rook. “Rook in the seventh, bone in the throat” he seemed to remember from somewhere... He defended his bishop with the queen and waited for the next threat. The angel swung his second rook over, supporting the first. Belphegor hissed slowly – all the tactics knowledge he had picked up was kicking in, all aimed against him. Somehow Chamuel had forced him into a slow death, running out of moves. He dropped his king back to break the pin on his king's bishop. The blasted angel attacked his queen with a rook and he had to give even more ground. With the same lack of any thinking time, the angel calmly brought his bishop beside the white queen, cutting it off. [20) e4 fe, 21) Qxh5 Rxf2, 22) Qg5 Raf8, 23) Kh1 R8f5, 24) Qe3 Bd3.]
Belphegor raged. His nails struck grooves in the leathery skin of his palms. His tail flicked in irritation. Everywhere he looked there was a danger to avoid. He played the only move he could see, bringing a rook over to stop his queen being simply won. He sat there expecting an instant response but for once the angel paused. He did not even seem to be looking at the board, just waiting. Belphegor looked again at the position – nothing the angel could do seemed to win but he could not shake the horribly constricted sensation he got from the position. Then Chamuel spoke, one word: “Zugzwang” and played a tiny pawn move. [25) Rce1 h6!!]
At first the demon nearly laughed with relief. He had expected some killing thrust and the angel moves a silly little pawn. Now, how to turn this about? Move after move he considered and rejected. His guts started to churn. This was not possible. Everything loses... He sank down in his seat, his misery complete. Nothing remained but resignation. He toppled the white king and growled “Where did you learn to play chess like that?”
Chamuel smiled. “I didn't. I cannot play the game at all. I lay down last night and saw this one sequence of moves in a dream. God moves in mysterious plays.” Belphegor screamed in rage, “You cheated! Dirty misbegotten scum!” Chamuel smiled again and said “It's just good preparation, really.” The demon cursed and vanished in a puff of smoke, shouting “Next time, angel, next time...”
A thousand years passed...
Belphegor flicked a t-shaped piece of metal to Chamuel. He gestured with an identical one in his own hand and a flaming blade extended from the hilt.
“Blast,” said Chamuel, “It would be worth losing a round just to get to pick the weapons once...”
(Saemisch vs Nimzowitsch Copenhagen 1923 “The immortal zugzwang game”.)