The Chronicles Of Sekar - Chapter Four

The Chronicles Of Sekar

Chapter Four – The Ship, The Ruby and The Pen

Sekar smiled to his companion Antim and waved his hand at the board, inviting him to play again, saying as he did “So, my friend, where shall we journey to next?” Antim thought for a moment and then looked hesitant; Sekar raised an eyebrow quizzically. The smaller man shrugged and said “Well, it's not quite a daring adventure but I have always wanted to travel to the annual chess competition on the island of Maranil, in the Western Ocean. You hear the occasional story about it in the market place from the other chessplayers – apparently the winner each year receives a fabulous ruby as a prize. The event is in eight days time, I just thought...” He realised he was babbling and trailed off, unsure. Sekar grinned and replied “That sounds perfect – we could both enter and double our chances of getting the ruby; split the proceeds from the sale if one of us wins – or did you want it for yourself to display on a ring?” They laughed and started to make plans. The journey would probably take about four days, assuming they could find a captain who could drop them off. Best thing, they reasoned, was to check now for likely ships they could buy berths in.

Down at the docks, the port-master informed them, for a few copper coins, that there were four ships setting sail in the general direction of Maranil in the coming week and pointed them each out. Sekar's face brightened when he saw one of them and he nudged Antim, saying “That's our ship there.” Antim looked at him in surprise “I thought you hadn't been to sea before either; how do you know?” Sekar just smiled and as they drew closer, Antim realised why. The ship's sail was a black and white chequered design, like a huge chessboard. The name on the side, encouragingly yet surprisingly, was The White Queen. They started up the gangway and called to the ship for permission to come aboard and were waved on by a crewman lounging at the top to speak to the captain. Sekar thanked the sailor who looked blankly back at them, his expression unreadable. They introduced themselves to the captain, who was called Tarsek and explained where they were going; he exclaimed delightedly, as it turned out he was indeed a chess enthusiast himself but made his living as a merchant captain. They agreed that for a gold piece each he would drop them off on the island of Maranil, with meals on board thrown in, returning a few days later. It was close to his regular route anyway and he would be sailing out in three days time, weather permitting. They parted amicably, having promised to play a game each with Tarsek once they were underway.

During the intervening days they played chess a lot in the great town square of Al-Rokh, against as many different opponents as they could. Frequently they would have a visit from their friend Rabat the guard captain as they played; he was amused at their earnest preparations at first till they told him of the large ruby they sought to win. He promised then that if they won it he would take them to the most honest gems trader in the city for a fair appraisal and price. The weather held and on the third day Antim and Sekar made their way to the docks where The White Queen was being loaded with the last of its cargo, some earthen jars of fine wines. Captain Tarsek was supervising the loading and the companions noticed, as they waited for the work to finish, that the sailors went about their business cheerily enough but without the usual banter or chat labourers had. This was strange, as Tarsek didn't seem the type to discourage camaraderie. Finally, the ship was ready to leave the port and they were invited on board eagerly.

They kept themselves out of the way as the twelve-man crew prepared the sails and rigging; all went about their work in silence but with a practised manner. The White Queen headed smoothly out of the harbour and the friends watched the city of Al-Rokh with mixed feelings as it receded from sight: Antim had never travelled any distance from home before, let alone on a ship; Sekar relished the experience, a far cry from the jungle and deserts he was used to. Captain Tarsek called over to them once he was satisfied his ship was in order and they weaved their way through the bustling activity to his side. He gestured for them to sit with him, on cushions he had spread about. They chatted for a little while, about chess and life's adventures; eventually Antim's curiosity got the better of him and he had to ask about the silent crew. The captain told them that he and his men had originally served an eastern prince who had engaged, at premium rates, a crew made up of entirely deaf sailors. Tarsek had been sworn to secrecy on the prince's affairs but his employer had wanted to ensure that any negotiations and treaties he conducted were in strict confidence. When the prince had been assassinated by his own nephew the captain had decided to set out for himself in commerce, taking his loyal crew with him, rather than serve the usurper.

Captain Tarsek pulled out a chessboard which opened up to reveal the pieces inside; each was conventional except for a small hook on the bottom. The board had corresponding holes on each square and round the perimeter. He set the starting position up then demonstrated the hooks' purpose by holding the board upside down – not one piece fell off. “Great in rough weather” he confided. The holes round the edges were to safely hold the captured ones. They played a couple of games each with him, winning them all but after some fierce tussles; the wily old captain certainly had a few tricks in him. There was the occasional pause in games while Tarsek checked on his crew but from what Antim and Sekar could see the sailors all knew both their job and the route by heart. The captain would use a system of signs and gestures and seemed well enough understood. After half a day of sailing they came to the first island on his route, where the companions could only watch impressed as the crew efficiently and effortlessly took some of the cargo ashore and brought a few designated items back; they offered to help but were told in no uncertain terms that they were Tarsek's guests and he would have none of it. A few hours later they were at the second island, where more trade items came and went and the ship was anchored for the night. The crew danced and gambled and were a lot more entertaining and communicative than the friends would have thought for people who did not use speech, although they did notice that they all used the sign language with obvious long-familiarity. They learned the signal for a greeting in friendship and a few others and felt very accepted.

It was to be another day's sailing to the next island on their route and they set off the next morning. Things went mostly as before for a few hours, with the captain and the two friends exchanging chess strategy ideas and playing games when one of the crew raced up to Tarsek and tugged his sleeve, pointing at a sail approaching. The captain used his telescope and his face set in a grim expression. “Pirates” he said simply. As they watched another sail appeared, just behind the first. The two ships were closing the distance fast. Tarsek sent two sailors amongst the rest of the crew to tell them to make ready for trouble. All hands were silent but alert as they urged The White Queen to greater bursts of speed. It was clear even to Antim and Sekar though that the pirate ships would intercept them shortly. They stood back, giving the captain space; aware that he knew his business and there was little they could do to help right now, except be ready if required to fight if boarded. Time seemed to pass quickly as the two ships approached, spreading out to cover directions Tarsek's ship could turn. The grizzled captain was unruffled and opened a chest on the deck, pulling out some brightly coloured flags. He nodded to the crewmen who were all watching him, poised in states of readiness. They had obviously been in this position before as two of them started to light oil fires in brass bowls on the deck and a number of them got bows from where they were stowed. The others laid swords and axes to hand where they could grab them when needed.

The two pirate ships started to close in and Tarsek held up a blue flag with a chess knight image on it, waving it to the left. The crew pulled the ship towards the pirate ship on that side as if heading straight for it then swung to their right just before impact. Like a knight's move, Sekar realised. The White Queen spun neatly level with that ship, a mere dozen feet away and the captain raised a red flag with a bishop on it and the crew lit their arrows and fired them at the nearest pirate ship's sails. He raised a green flag with a pawn on it now and they pushed on forwards, dancing out of the way as the pirate ship, struggling as its sails began to lose their seaworthiness, lumbered to give chase. Again the captain raised the blue knight flag, to the right this time and the crew held their bearing a little then spun the ship to that side, working the ropes and helm adeptly. This brought them bearing down on the second pirate ship which was side-on to them. Its captain, they saw, fought to bring his ship round but Tarsek was not done. He waved a yellow flag with a rook on it and his ship surged forward, aiming the prow with its ram straight at the side of his opponent. Like a rook's charge, observed Sekar appreciatively. They caught the vessel in the centre, rupturing its hull and his crew charged forward to the front with weapons raised to fight off anyone attempting to board through the portion of their ships that were linked. Antim and Sekar finally felt of some use and ran to help. The pirates though seemed to have lost their appetite for battle, with one ship incapacitated and floundering without its sails and the other flailing dangerously with every movement of the ship impaling it threatening to tip it over. Tarsek held up one final flag, a white one with the king on it; his crew used their axes to cut the prow clear of the other ship as their archers provided covering fire. The king flag must mean safeguard the ship, Sekar realised. They successfully broke away and sailed off while they could. There was no pursuit, the pirates clearly were licking their wounds till they could find an easier merchant ship to prey on. The crew of The White Queen stamped their feet and clashed their weapons in celebration. Rather noisy celebration to Antim and Sekar whose hearing was in full working order but they grinned along with the crew. They had witnessed the well-trained sailors respond to chess commands to save their ship. “Remarkable” said Antim to the captain, who gave a deep bow in response before moving on round the ship to check all cargo was still secure and rigging intact.

The rest of the voyage was uneventful and the companions were almost sad when they had to leave the ship at Maranil but they were looking forward to the chess tournament. Tarsek hugged them both warmly and confirmed he would be returning for them in another three days. The dock at Maranil was a very primitive affair, with some basic planking to walk on and some posts to moor boats at, although the water was certainly deep enough that The White Queen had been able to pull right in. The other islands on the trip had been full of activity with little fishing boats milling around but there was no other water traffic here, nor any people. As Antim and Sekar looked about there was only one visible landmark – a wooden fort-like structure on the top of a hill. Maranil was basically a small island with a wooded section to their right and a couple of sparse fields with stringy livestock grazing in them. The one path leading from the “dock” was a muddy track which wound towards the fort on the hill. There had obviously been other visitors though, as there were various recent boot imprints in the mud. They trudged up the half-mile to the building, seeing as they approached that the large main doors were wide open and welcoming.

They got to the door and a fabulously-dressed man in silk trousers and shirt with an ornately decorated turban met them. He was apparently not a servant but the host. “Greetings friends,” he said, “One of my staff saw your sail in the harbour. I take it you are here for my little tournament?” Antim replied “Yes sir. It is spoken of in respectful whispers in my home city of Al-Rokh and I have always wanted to take part.” The man beamed with pleasure to hear this praise and turned to Sekar. “And you, my muscled friend? Are you here as a companion or are you here to play?” Sekar laughed, “Oh I'm not here to play – I'm here to win. I am Sekar of the southern tribes and my people place great importance on this sport.” The man absorbed this then replied “Interesting, you must tell me more of your people later. But how remiss of me: I have not introduced myself; I am Kazan and this is my humble retreat from the world. You are both welcome to stay a few days and join in our competition. I will show you to the others who are here so far.” He led them through a series of well-appointed rooms to where a score of people stood or sat on plush couches, chatting and playing games of chess. As Antim and Sekar looked around they saw people from many lands represented there. The humble retreat was far beyond the impression its wooden fort exterior hinted at – the floors were a mixture of marble ones and others so heavily covered in rich rugs and carpets that they were impossible to fathom; every wall was draped with tapestries, some of battle scenes, a few of chessplayers and some of idyllic landscapes. They were told they would be sleeping upstairs and a servant showed them to their room, which was on a huge corridor; each room had two beds and it was clear Kazan was used to accommodating large numbers of guests. “I suppose this means I will have to put up with your snoring,” joked Antim. “Only if I manage to get to sleep despite your mindless prattling” retorted Sekar. They deposited the few belongings they had brought with them and headed downstairs again to the room most of the players were in. They listened politely as some people expounded their chess philosophies and played a few casual games to pass the time. There was an air of expectancy in the room, though, and Antim felt that few of them would be showing their best play till the tournament itself started the following day. As the day wore on more players arrived. Kazan addressed the players and announced that only the first thirty-two there would play as this was the annual limit for his tournament but that anyone appearing after that would be welcome to stay and spectate.

The next morning Antim and Sekar found that a total of thirty-seven players, including themselves, had come hopeful to participate; they were both glad they had set out early for the event. The group was led through to a main hall where sixteen chess boards were set out on tables with benches. Their host Kazan outlined some basic rules of play and indicated hourglasses by each board. The players would have one minute before the sand ran out in their hourglass and were to invert it after moving a piece; if the sand ran out before the move was made then they lost “on time”. The obvious catch that had a few players looking worried and talking in whispers was that your opponent only had the length of time you had allowed him to have when you reversed the hourglass – so if you had only used five seconds out of the minute in the sands then that is all your opponent would have to play with for that move. To make matters fairer, the advantage of going first was counteracted by the fact the timepieces did not flip till white had made his first move so the black player initially had more time and control over the speed of the game. The competition was straight elimination so would go from thirty-two players to sixteen, eight, four then two in the final game. The winner after these five rounds would claim the ruby, which a servant brought in on a velvet cushion to display. There was a collective intake of breath from the players at this as it was truly a magnificent gem. Kazan looked around and asked “Any questions?” An overweight man at the back stepped forward and asked “What about draws? How do you decide who goes through?” Their host nodded sagely and answered “Players who draw will replay against that opponent. I would strongly advise against this though, as you will be giving your next round opponent more time to both rest and study your playing styles. It is in your best interest to win first time, gentlemen.” A tall thin, hook-nosed man coughed and addressed their host “Who will make sure there is fairness applied?” Kazan looked pleased at this and replied “My staff will oversee the games; in the case of a dispute the aggrieved player can put up a hand to call one of them over. If necessary they will either dismiss the claim, award a time penalty or even a total game loss. Be warned, though: my staff have been overseeing this event for some years now and know the rules of chess thoroughly. Any breach of the basic laws of chess will be sternly and swiftly dealt with.” A few of the players nodded ruefully at this; it seemed some of them had, whether by honest mistake or slyness, fallen foul of these measures before.

There were no other questions and the players' names were written down and put into an ornate chest, then drawn out singly and paired up by a servant, white then black, till all were allocated to a board. Six servants, identically-garbed in robes of grey, took up position so each board had a judge nearby. Antim was directed close to a corner by the door and Sekar was allocated a seat at the centre of the room by this random method; before taking their seats they clasped forearms and Sekar said “See you in the final, little brother.” Antim nodded, elated to be taking part in the games and honestly not caring if he was proclaimed the final winner.

He sat down for his first game; he was to be White against the fattish man, wearing a loose-fitting kaftan, who had asked the question about draws. They shook hands and Antim swallowed down his nervousness. He was concerned about going first as, although he obviously relished having the first move to control the play, he feared the lack of time he would start with. He took a deep breath and moved his king's pawn two squares. He needn't have worried though as his opponent looked just as nervous as Antim felt and was not rushing anything. The first fifteen moves they just tried to relax and took their time and the sand in both halves of the hourglass was about even as they reached a proper middlegame, as was the position on the board. Antim thought for a few seconds, then accepted that he couldn't afford to sit and calculate but wasn't sure how to progress. Getting slightly more desperate as each second filtered down through the glass funnel in the timepiece, he finally moved his king into the corner on the basis that it was a good waiting move and did not commit him too much. He could try to come up with more of a plan as his opponent thought. The man sitting opposite him hadn't played a move and after about eight seconds, having resolved to rush some pawns forward on the kingside and to start maneuvering his pieces to help them, Antim glanced up at him. To his surprise he was sitting staring at the board as if Antim had played some master-stroke. He realised that each move so far had been action and reaction and they had been playing off each other; now his opponent was in a position where he had to come up with an independent move or plan and seemed to be struggling. As Antim watched, the man kept alternating between staring at the board and at the hourglass and getting more fidgety as each second evaporated. Finally, with only a few grains of sand remaining, the fat man brought his queen out but it was threatening nothing so Antim ignored it and calmly played the pawn move he had been intending. The other man swung a rook over, thoughts of plans gone obviously. After Antim brought a knight back to support another pawn advance, the black player paused, a horrible frozen expression on his face and eventually lunged to bring the queen over to the kingside but as he made his move the last of the sand fell into the bottom half of the hourglass and he looked in shock at it, hand half-poised on the way to turning it the other way up. He started to drop his hand then smiled and reached it across the board to shake Antim's. He felt sorry for the man but it was all he could do to suppress a shout of joy as he realised he was through to the next round.

He glanced over to see that Sekar had completed his game also and was talking it over with the person he had played; by the looks of their expressions he had won also. When Antim was to write of their adventures later, one regret he had was that he did not witness all of Sekar's games to document them also. In any case, he did not have long to wait now till the next round was to start as the other games around them were finishing also. He concentrated on releasing his tension that had built up during the game. Kazan stood up once the first round was completely over and announced “We will now select for the second round placings. I appreciate some of you might get two whites or two blacks in a row but you have equal chances of each and in probability the special time conditions should eliminate any unfair advantage. I hope you all have a good second round game and enjoy each other's play.” With that the remaining sixteen names went into the chest again and the pairings were announced. There were now eight boards set up, spaced through the room for comfort; the players knocked out were standing around the walls to watch the coming play, with instructions from the host to keep quiet and respectful.

For his second game, Antim found himself seated at the black pieces against a bald headed man in a monk's saffron robes. They nodded to each other and then, on command from Kazan, the white player moved his queen's pawn and flipped the timer. Antim responded with his king's knight and the game started to unfold. The moves were fairly quick at first then slowed down as it became more complex; Antim conserved much of his time advantage as black but did allow himself a little period to think now and again and after about twenty moves he had about two thirds of the time but neither was under particular strain; the board however was more in his control – white's centre was attacked from the queenside flank and Antim was pushing forward on the kingside too. The pressure started to tell and he won first a pawn then a knight and finally the opponent's queen for rook and bishop. His play forced one weakness after another to appear in white's defences and he reached a position where his remaining rook was forcing a pawn through. He would get another queen, after which it must be over. Only problem was his queen was still on the board so he would need another one to promote the pawn to. He stepped up from the bench quickly after bringing the pawn to the seventh rank and upending the hourglass and picked up a spare queen from one of the boards play had finished on. Turning back, he noticed a strange little smile on the monk's face and then his insides turned cold as he looked at the board: his opponent's queen was sitting on his second rank, totally changing the nature of the position. At first he just stared in shock then realised that the white player had cheated and put it there while his back was turned. He put his hand up for a judge to come and one scurried over quickly. Antim explained, while his opponent protested his innocence, what had happened. The judge turned the hourglass on its side so no more time would flow while he sorted it out and studied the position. All white's pieces did seem to be pinned back by black's forces but there was no way to be sure who was lying. To Antim's great relief though, the man he had defeated in the first round had been watching his game to see how he did and now approached the judge to testify against the saffron-robed cheater. The judge awarded Antim the game but did not stop there; Kazan was called over and himself proclaimed that the “monk”, if holy man he was which seemed unlikely, was banned forever from competing in his competition and should leave his home immediately. He left in shame and was shown from the building and instructed to wait at the dock for the next ship away from Maranil.

There was to be a replay from one of the games as the first draw of the tournament had happened; Antim used the opportunity to sidle through the crowd over to Sekar who was watching the game as it started and congratulate him on also making it through the first two rounds. The big man patted him on the shoulder and said “Now it starts to get really hard, I suspect, my friend.” They both felt a bit more rested by the time the last game of that round finished, to applause of the spectators. Again, the servant picked the names from the hat and paired them off. The companions were relieved to see they were not paired against each other from the last eight names. As there were only four boards for this round, a judge was allocated to each table with the two remaining ones waiting to support with advice if needed by their colleagues. Kazan again addressed the players. “Congratulations to those who have made it through so far. I have witnessed some fine games of chess and hope to see more. Let me say though that we will not tolerate any attempts to cheat as happened in the last round; honest mistakes will be understood although penalised but any conduct of that scurrilous nature will incur firm sanctions. Good luck to all and compete in friendship.”

The eight of them made their way to the seats and Antim was to face a neatly dressed old man with cropped grey hair. He smiled warmly at the younger man and started to adjust his pieces methodically. Antim was to be white against him so again had the slight worry of the threat of time trouble. He played his king's pawn as usual and flipped the hourglass. The old man cleared his throat and stretched then leaned over laconically and played the queen's bishop pawn out, something Antim had seen many times, often from Sekar. He relaxed a little as the old man was certainly not rushing anything. They made more moves and Antim found himself slowing down – the old man's movements were steady and measured and almost lethargic. It came to a shock to him when he suddenly realised that the old man was only seeming to play slowly, as his actual movements were at no great pace; in reality he was not pausing to think more than a fraction of a second but his demeanour was deceptive. He was still reeling from the shock of this when it hit him that he had better pull himself together as the old man had used very little time from the hourglass before each reset of it and that he only had a few seconds of time. His opponent was watching his expression and must have noticed the truth sink in to Antim as he winked at him. Antim rushed a move and rotated the hourglass; again the old man reached out as if he was taking his time and made a move and turned the timepiece. Antim started to panic. He had been tricked and had been fool enough to fall for it but, like most of the players there, had never come across any time controls in chess other than the good manners to not keep a player waiting. He ventured the first move he saw, bringing a bishop back and turned the hourglass again. The old man delayed barely a fraction and sacrificed a knight straight at Antim's kingside pawns. He looked at it in despair wondering what he had missed and realised too late that he had been fooled again. The last sands in the upper bowl of the hourglass slipped through and he was defeated. The sacrifice had been a stalling tactic to throw his concentration. He looked at the board then his opponent and considered walking away but most of all he realised there was no point being churlish. He shook the old man's hand – he may be a better chessplayer but the old man had played him better. If he entered this event next year he would be wiser in the ways of the timepieces. He wandered over to watch Sekar from the wall nearest his friend and saw a clinical endgame display at speed till the tribesman forced the other king back and pushed a pawn through. It was over within a few moves after that and Antim congratulated him. “Unlucky that you lost,” said Sekar, “But look on the bright side.” Antim looked at him, confused and asked “What's that?” His friend smiled, “Well, now you don't have to face me and you get to watch me play.” Antim pushed him and pretended to look offended but as he turned away Sekar saw him grin.

For the fourth round, they were down to four players: a semi-final. Sekar was pitted against a teenager and the old man who had played Antim in the previous round was to play a thin man with long dark hair and small round spectacles. Everyone was crowded round as close as the judges would let them; Antim was able to get a good view of Sekar's board but could also see the old man's one as well to some extent. Kazan said “Well my friends, we are down to the finest players present now and I think we all hope to see more of the same fine chess that has brought us here. One of the surprises for most of us must be the skillful tribesman who has made it this far at least; on the other board we have the reigning champion. No matter who makes it through I am sure we have three interesting games to watch over the last two rounds. Good luck and fair play to all.”

Sekar shook the teenager's hand, he was to be white against him so would have to watch his use of time. As the reigning champion on the other board shook the hand of the old man, who he was to be black against, Antim heard the younger man say “We meet again, oldtimer.” He would likely not fall for his tricks if he has played him before, thought Antim. The games started and Sekar played his king's knight out, turning the hourglass. The teenager responded quickly, letting little time fall through the hourglass but Sekar was ready and met his first few moves with a standard fortress setup. The youngster was clearly trying to make the most of the control he had over the time but Antim knew the style Sekar was using and it basically ignored black for the first number of moves while it established a pattern of development. Sekar would not be needing to analyse right now so was happy blitzing out moves. On the other table, the old man was already in trouble as the champion took more and more space from him, calmly annexing portions of the board with no real weaknesses that Antim could see, at fair speed also. Antim switched his attention back to Sekar's game and saw that they were ploughing on into a middlegame but that the younger man was not attempting to stop and think a little bit longer about his moves. Sekar was rising to the challenge, having played his system as white many times; knowing exactly what key squares to aim his pieces at was quickly gaining pressure. As the younger man rushed, still trying to exploit the time conditions, his centre collapsed and pieces loomed over both sides of the board. It was evident to all watching, time aside, that his plan was failing and he started to take longer on his moves but it was too late for contemplation and the more time he took the more time Sekar had to finesse and construct a clear method to dissect his position. It was spiralling rapidly, with black's ruptured centre being flooded by white pieces, the seventh rank invaded and material starting to drop to stave off checkmate. Meanwhile the other game had concluded with the old man who had beaten Antim begrudgingly shaking the champion's hand; the thin man then proceeded to watch Sekar's game with interest. There was not much for him to see and analyse though, as that game was also over shortly; the young man although successful so far in the event through his quick play, had met his match. Sekar was through to the final to play the champion.

Kazan was delighted and made no effort to hide it; he said “From what I have seen the best two players have definitely made it through all the way to the final. We will give them an hour to recover before playing each other, so we get a good contest from them. In the meanwhile, I suggest you all come to the dining hall where my staff have laid on some refreshments.” They all headed through to a lavish feast of delicacies. Antim congratulated Sekar of course, as many others did; too many of them for Antim's liking seemed surprised a barbarian had made it this far. Sekar shrugged it off and said that the next round would tell if he had what it took. A fair number of players were clustered around the reigning champion, hanging on his every word. Finally, the break-time was up and they all trooped through to the playing hall. One final draw for colour was made and Sekar was to be black against the champion. They sat, shook hands and began. The thin man started with the queen's pawn and they were soon entrenched in an asymmetrical struggle with white storming the queenside with pawn advances and pressure from rooks whereas black was pushing on the kingside with an advanced bishop pawn and maneuvering pieces behind it. The spectators were in total silence as they watched this battle for control. Antim noticed that although the judges were all observing the game they seemed to be watching it for pleasure as much as to regulate the fairness of conduct. Most of the play was so quick that few later could say where it started to fall apart but Sekar's pressure on the kingside finally broke through and he gave up a knight at h3 to plant the f-pawn firmly on the sixth rank. The long-haired champion was breaking through to the seventh rank with a rook but it was too late and Sekar's pieces flooded his king. Their time was roughly level and there was nothing white could do to save his game: he stopped to think for a few seconds and then toppled his king. There was silence for a few moments as the players shook hands and then a cheer erupted from the watching. Sekar and his opponent ignored the crowd for a minute while they discussed the game and Antim was certain at that point that his friend had forgotten the ruby prize he was playing for in his enjoyment of the contest.

The servant who had previously displayed the ruby on its cushion brought it through again and Sekar humbly stepped up to receive his award. Kazan declared that it was one of the finest events he had hosted in the twenty years he had been holding it and hoped both that they would all remain as his guests until their ships arrived and that they would all return the following year. He took Sekar to one side and Antim could see that his friend was looking very thoughtful at what was said to him, although slightly incredulous at one point. Kazan stepped away and Antim approached Sekar, who showed him the fine gem they had come there for and told him what had transpired between him and his host. Apparently he held these events as a precursor to establish who would get to play him in a very special game the following day, with an even more fabulous prize – a magical pen which could tell its holder the best move from any position. Antim looked at Sekar in much the same way his companion had looked at their host but was assured that Kazan had been serious.

Kazan and his guests went back to the first room Antim and Sekar had seen them congregate in, where they discussed chess and compared theories. There was a lot more shared knowledge than on the first day as they were no longer worried about giving away their secrets. Kazan asked Sekar about his tribe and listened intently as the traveller told of his people and how chess permeated their lives. By the time they all retired to their rooms, Antim felt as if the trip had been one of the most pleasurable times of his life. He started to talk to his friend as they each lay in their beds but had to laugh to himself as deep snores started in response.

The next day, after some shared breakfast, their host invited Sekar and Antim through to his private chambers. There was a chessboard set up and Kazan offered for the new champion to pick which colour he wished. Sekar thought for a moment and picked the black pieces so as to gain more time, for he saw that there was one of the same hourglasses by the board, but slightly larger – this one it turned out allowed five minutes maximum time rather than the single minute of the other one. They shook hands and Kazan lifted a quill pen from a polished wooden case at his side of the table. He tapped the feather of this pen on the board and then his hand jerked across a piece of paper in front of him, scribbling some notation. He played a move, his king's pawn out two squares and turned the hourglass. Antim suspected this was some sort of theatrics but knew that his friend would not allow chicanery to get the better of him. How good a player Kazan really was would become evident after a few moves but Antim couldn't shake the slight worry that his claim about the pen might be real – if it was, then what hope was there of defeating it? No such worries showed on Sekar's face though and he confidently played what he always did against the king's pawn, entering a lopsided game with his queen's bishop pawn. The play continued on normal lines with Kazan calmly tapping the board with the quill before writing and then making each move – they both brought out a knight to contest the centre and Kazan opened the game up with the normal queen pawn advance. After the customary exchange and recapture with the white knight, Sekar went into thought. He usually would play a slightly different line from here but wanted to test a theory he had about this position. He had thought for a while that if he delayed playing the queen's pawn to restrain white's king pawn then he might get time to burst the centre open with a pawn to d5. He decided to try an immediate fianchetto rather than bring out his other knight. [1) e4 c5 2) Nf3 Nc6 3) d4 cd 4) Nxd4 g6]

Kazan again tapped the board, wrote the move and brought out his queen's knight. There seemed to be no reason not to continue with his plan so Sekar delayed transposing into the main line and carried on with setting up his bishop on the diagonal. He watched as his host went through his little ritual with the pen and wondered to himself What if it really is magic? He has done nothing wrong so far – can I possibly win this? Kazan played his queenside bishop out and Sekar decided just to develop pieces so he could get his king to safety and try to build up pressure to make a central break, so brought out his own remaining knight. The feather tapped the board lightly, the pen wrote and Kazan developed his last bishop. Sekar started to feel a little unsettled: the moves were as expected so far but his opponent was just too relaxed, too quick with the actual moves and not appearing to look at the board very hard. He castled and got his first surprise of the game – Kazan dropped the light-squared bishop back a square. Sekar could see no real reason for this and considered his options. He could move the queen's pawn one square and go back into the usual structure or try to knock out the bishop that had just moved so he could drive the queen pawn two squares and open the game for himself. He glanced at the hourglass – there was plenty of time in it but the more he thought the longer his opponent would have to consider a response, if he really was thinking and not using magic as he claimed. He swung his queen's knight out to attack the bishop, knowing it was maybe violating an opening principle by going to the edge but unable to see any fault in it. [5) Nc3 Bg7 6) Be3 Nf6 7) Bc4 0-0 8) Bb3 Na5]

Again that little mysterious tap of the pen on the board. Antim did not recognise the line his friend was playing as it was not one they had practised together; he did not begin to know whether there really was magic at work and found himself holding his breath as he watched anxiously. Kazan smoothly advanced the king's pawn attacking black's knight. Sekar was not worried by this as he had looked at this and knew he could retreat his knight leaving the pawn attacked by his bishop. He checked again in case he had missed anything and it looked fine. He dropped the knight back and waited. If Kazan defended the pawn then he would simply eliminate the light-squared bishop with his knight and must stand at least equal. Antim was just starting to think the magic pen was all a bluff when Kazan finished tapping the board with it and writing the move. To their horror, he picked up the attacked bishop and sacrificed it straight at black's kingside with check. Sekar saw he had three options: retreat the king, definitely losing; take the piece offered with the king or with the rook. He tried analysing variations where the king took but it looked complicated and would allow the white queen in to his position. His sand was rapidly filtering out in the hourglass and his chances hinged on being able to survive this attack; his head swam and he panicked. As the time trickled out, he was no closer to understanding and decided just to take the bishop and see what happened. He captured it with the rook and sat back. Kazan tapped the board with the pen once more and deposited the knight in the heart of Sekar's territory. The tribesman realised in shock what he had missed and shook his head. His queen was lost through a pinned pawn and with it his game. In eleven moves. He looked at his opponent and the magic pen and knocked his king over. Wordlessly they shook hands, Sekar still reeling. [9) e5 Ne8 10) Bxf7+ Rxf7 11) Ne6 1-0.]

Kazan looked at him understandingly and said “Do not feel bad; no one has ever won a game where I have been using the pen. I hope that one day someone will, for they would surely be the greatest in the world but I do not have much hope, for the magic seems unbeatable. Myself, I cannot play very well but I do enjoy watching the game.” He told them that the pen had been made in the east some years ago and that he had bought it from a noble lord who had hit hard times and needed funds, for a large fortune. Since then he had funded this tournament to find players who might strive to earn it. Sekar had recovered by now and thanked him for the chance to play against it, as well as for the ruby he had won. They chatted for a while then returned to another feast laid on by the host for his guests. Sekar and Antim, at Kazan's request, said nothing to the others of what had occurred in his chambers. Last year's champion met Sekar's eye and nodded to him sadly – he must have been through a similar defeat himself. They had a pleasant time though and the guests started to leave the hall at Maranil as their ships arrived for them, that day and the next.

On the third day since arrival, the morning after Sekar played against the magic pen, as promised Captain Tarsek sailed The White Queen in to the dock and the companions waved goodbye to a few of the acquaintances they had made in their time there. The captain greeted them warmly again and was full of praise when Sekar showed him the ruby he had won. The return voyage was less eventful than the one there but did involve a few more stops at islands on the way. The companions relaxed and learned some more of the sign language from the crew and recounted everything that had happened to the chess-loving captain. Antim spent some of the time getting much of it down on the writing paper he had brought with him, while it was still fresh in his mind. When they got back to Al-Rokh, their friend Rabat was waiting for them at the dock. “So, my friends” he called to them as they disembarked the ship, “How did you fare?” They appeared to look crestfallen and he started to commiserate them, but Sekar could contain his deception no longer and smiled, producing the ruby from inside his tunic. The guard captain was very impressed and was as good as his word, taking them straight to a gems merchant who carefully studied the stone and offered Sekar a sizable sum in gold, a bounty which the two friends split as earlier agreed – Antim at first protested but his companion was insistent. They deposited most of their new riches at a merchant bank for safe keeping and went back to the inn they had been staying at before, to offload their baggage and change their clothes. No doubt they would find things to spend the money on but they both agreed it would not change the enjoyment they got from their life as it was.

Antim and Sekar headed down to the market square, where chessplayers waited.

Just in case anyone made it all the way through to the 11 move game, like all games I use in my stories it was taken from a real game.  In this case it was one I played in turn based on this site, where I was white - I claim no brilliancy for it though as the original line was devised by much cleverer minds than mine; it was used with a different continuation by Fischer in one game.  My actual game did end at 11 moves where this one did but Fischers went on for longer.  I can promise one thing though - chapter five will be a lot shorter.  The plan I have for each of the last four chapters suggests they will all be shorter in fact, with number eight slightly longer than 5,6 or 7.  It is always hard to tell, though, as my skimpy plans jotted down do not always prepare me for what happens when I go to write the actual chapters.  As anyone reading all 4 chapters so far will realise, the first line of each chapter was the last line of the chapter before, so I suspect you might know what the first line of chapter 5 will be and where that story will start.  I dont expect the others will take as much time to write as this one, but who can say - life can always throw some curveballs.

Great! I wonder what happened to the five players out of the thirty-seven, since there were only sixteen boards?

Thanks.  As to the other 5:  " Kazan addressed the players and announced that only the first thirty-two there would play as this was the annual limit for his tournament but that anyone appearing after that would be welcome to stay and spectate."  - They had to troll and heckle from the sidelines.  Wait, I just realised:  in life, I am one of the 5 spectators...Anyway, they would have had to stay till their ships came back for them and may as well get fed for free and watch some chess.