I’m the King but it’s Chess.

A man, perhaps a little taller than the rest of the town, and dressed in dark leathers with a little metal at his wrists stepped forward.

“I may have… care for a drink on me O mighty lion and fair maiden? I worked for the quartermaster.”

A capricious man. What did he seek to gain?

“Nonsense, but point us to a tavern and the next drink shall be on the King.” I offered.

Never accept anything for free for it is always a cage. Offer it instead, and watch the world open it’s doors to you.

Machiavelli should have written that, maybe I should write that.

“As you wish!” He graciously bowed and pointed to a tavern of his choice.

“Butcher, prepare the boar, and bring it to this tavern, I want the people to enjoy it.” I ordered.

The queen, my maid, hung on my arm.

The bold man awkwardly led us to the tavern.

Why was a bold man awkward? How and why did he dare to waylay a maid of the king?

Maybe one thousand and one nights had an answer. That which was told was never quite as implied.

It was wise of me to offer a drink to the people, for now the air of the tavern was that of a party, and in a bold center table the queen incognito, this strange bold man, and I sat. I realized finally that my sword was bloody and bare. Even stranger, the flame aided sunlight that rendered itself in the dusty air of a tavern revealed to me that the people here were not the least bit worried about the fact I had walked in with a naked pig brain blade in hand.

In a past life I would have felt the air of oppressive optimism. As if something bad was going to happen. For an instant I felt that nervousness, but the Lion was a gregarious man and didn’t fear parties. For once in my life I was able to push my fear of crowds and noise away and easily part the crowd of well dressed and smiling peasants before me.

I was a king, a dictator, I guess I had one of the best super powers.

I could turn stadiums full of people into happy smiling clapping wii fit mii's.

Say what you will about the dictator, but the power to make everyone smile was an admirable and noble power.

I wiped my blade using a handkerchief volunteered by one of the serving girls who smiled too much and sheathed the naked steel. Ignoring the beaming faces that ordered their drinks promised but not yet paid for. I sat next to my Dove incognito who herself sat next to this strange man. The strange man who was clearly made nervous by the three of us all sitting on one bench as if sardines. The warmth and motion I felt was no doubt felt by the other two.

We were brought close by convenience? intrigue? the quartermaster? The business of the state?

I had just killed a wild pig, and somehow an itch in the back of my brain told me humankind was less deserving of mercy. I'm a violently minded person, which is why I try to stay polite.

Two mistrals had taken to filling the tavern with noise take advantage of the crown’s promise of indirect subsidy, it was chaos. Yet around us who were doing business the sound did not oppress. I suspected my queen’s magic.

“Your business with the quartermaster?” I asked my queen bluntly as a smiling and well formed waiter brought us fried potato wedges a pitcher full of beer.

I considered they may be poisoned until the strange grubby looking man ate off the single plate and poured himself a drink.

I was hungry but I wouldn’t eat right now.

But my queen ate.

If I didn’t eat it would all be gone soon. No I would stay strong.

“He is a fixer and teamster.” said Dove incognito from behind a potato wedge. “The brass and stone of this town is clean and shiny for he keeps the men of the mine on a short leash. He is technically unemployed as of a few days ago, his... no our... quartermaster is dead. Which makes us his master by a strange sort of inheritance.” She finished and crunched on a second potato wedge.

A professional traitor then. And my queen had kept her dismissive royal tone to signal just how far below us he was. Very cute, I loved her.

“Indeed” the man agreed, “I am a lord of the lash, a baron of the coin, a priest of labors undignified.”

“A Petty king!” The Dove continued. “For a king is naught but a man wise enough to bed the daughters when the sons go to war!”

She elbowed me under the table as if I was supposed to chop someone’s head off or something.

I hated her, but at least that seemed like something a women, and not a man, would say.

I hate this man too.

Love, hate, same emotion really. To use the blade was to live.

Let me suppose that the queen is being truthful here, it would make sense in chess logic, the bishop of the dark squares vs the bishop of the light squares, neither could see the realm of the other. Both were opposites yet the same. Suppose for everything this man in front of me was, the Quartermaster I had sacrificed was more. But just older and more experienced.

Which meant that…, the only way I could move diagonally across the board now, was my queen, Queen Dove most Serene.

And Myself I guess. But as a king I am bound to nearby squares.

Which meant going through this fixer? My queen?

I shuddered briefly imagining what would happen if I moved myself on the chessboard. This reality seemed to place great importance on a chess game. I had seen the light squares in the pontifex, but this man was a key to the dark squares if I was not inventing reality that didn't exist.

“I don’t suppose the old quartermaster kept documentation of his trade?” I asked the two of them, aware that among the bustling tavern we were speaking calmly yet loudly.

The man was desperately trying to stay calm, but I could tell that sitting so close to the king and one of the king’s “Pretty maids” was not what he wanted right now. He had seemed bold, perhaps grim only a minute ago, now he seemed like a deer in the headlights. “Unfortunately that is not how the quartermaster…” He began.

“A man of material does not keep records O silly Lion!” The Dove interrupted loudly. “Tis not the way of plebian power!” The dulcet tones of her voice lowered as she mimicked a man’s, my... voice. “O Lion don’t you remember what you tell me?”

When I am attracted to someone I cannot be angry at them, the anger is just an excuse to pick them up and hug them. What were we doing in public instead of cuddling?

I don’t remember saying “Tis not the way of plebian power!” but let us suppose I had.

“So what is this dishonest and unaccountable man doing waylaying one of the king’s angelic agents? He has no insurance against suspicions I may cast upon him?” I tried to stay focused.

There was not technically anything stopping me from cutting down this man and going home, perhaps there was nothing stopping him from cutting me down. Perhaps the drinks I was buying on credit were my only armor here.

I guess the physical mass of a cute soft woman sitting smugly between us was technically a physical obstacle. Perhaps a psychological one...

He munched on a potato wedge feigning comfort and ease.

“Of course not.” He said coolly.

“We rogues must stick together.” the Dove reassured him. “I understand the lion is an imposing man, but rest assured his heart is soft and priestly.”

“What is thy name?” I asked the man.

He hesitated “Stockton.”

How silly of me to ask, perhaps the name was fake. I poured myself a drink. out of the pitcher, confident that I was safe, for dove and 'Stockton' had both poured their drinks, and drank from it.

“Well Stockton, I don’t blame you, The king’s maids are very attractive, to die for even.”

I raised the glass and it occurred to me that this man wasn’t even a pawn, I think, he wasn’t wearing enough white. I was toasting him, but according to game rules, he wouldn’t ever matter.

I could sense a snippit of discomfort as he reached for his glass to toast me.

To think that a moment ago I was counting my advantages over him, that I had already died and didn’t fear it for one. What is this Dove of my heart doing to me indeed?

For Queen Incognito, she also toasted and drank deep.

I’m not sure either I or the strange man drank any after that toast, but we both raised our glasses to each other and then our mouths.

“Well Stockton, do you think you could do your best to document…”

“O lion…!” The dove started but I spoke over the ‘agent’ of the king, it wouldn’t do to let her interrupt me.

“What fixings and teams you still have access to, I am a jealous king who wants to know of the realms, every dark detail.”

I produced some coins from the purse that all my clothing appeared to have on them.

“If you need to hire anyone, make sure to remember their name and include them in your report.”

The poor man couldn’t speak now. The glint of gold had struck him, "Y- Yes" He stammered. Odd he had seemed so confident outside, I had almost worried my queen had taken him for a plaything. But now he seemed helpless before a shred of gold.

The dove’s look softened,

“Was there any other business I had intended in this town?” I asked the queen.

“Only this party!” she summoned a barmaid over and ordered a full table. The roar of the town crashed back down upon us.

I ate but didn’t drink, I was worried bout pickpockets. And thankfully there were none.

Every barmaid, woman, grandmother and girl in the tavern asked if I was looking for more maids at the castle.

We were, but this sort of hiring practice was not one I wanted to encourage in my kingdom.

The few men, and every woman about thanked me for disposing of the boar which had apparently been terrorizing the town for the past month or so after all the hunters had left for war.

The queen ordered the peasants even more drinks as the maid of the castle and did in fact invite two of the barmaids to work in the castle as maids. They were to report tonight.

She limited herself, gluttons that we were this wasn’t the time or place to mindlessly drink.

I had quickly had enough of the place.

“O Maid of mine”

“Maids!” one of the bar girls with brown pigtail buns, Corrected.

What a banal and innocent kingdom! Other kingdoms might have the girl’s head for such insolence but I really was a soft fat priest in a warrior’s body.

“O maids of mine, I am to depart.”

“Wait for us!” Her friend with the frizzy hair replied.

The queen confidently made motion to them to hurry up.

The tavern was sad to see us go, the proprietor was absent so they could not be annoyed we just poached two employees.

“I only have one horse!” I muttered to my wife, the queen, Dove...

“I fit” said the Dove.

“They don’t” I looked at the two bar-tending girls. Why had the queen picked them? Bunhead and the Frizz.

“Oh youth joyful! Have a horse! I have one too many this year!" An old man in earshot offered us a horse.

I guess it’s good a king lives in a castle in his own world, the list of morons who I wanted to execute was only increasing this day.

“Really!? Thank you so much!” said the Frizz instantly. I hadn't had time to say 'no thanks.' I almost wouldn’t feel bad when the queen sacrificed that foolish frizzy haired woman.

“Take a sampling of our finest as well O Lion!” Another man handed the maids small aged barrels of spirits.

When it rains it pours, some men drown while others die of thirst.

The town helped these two fools donate the equivalents of weeks of labor to the King and the foolish women who followed him.

It’s times like this that I think the boar was wiser than us all.

Which by the way, as a thanks, the butcher had managed to give us a large slab of pork belly, on ice.

I guess he had worked overtime and sourced Ice from up the mountain.

What was nonsense simping in my modern eyes was likely a form of marketing in the eyes of these few businessmen who stayed behind to profit off the war.

The poor horses which were too fine to be pack horses were loaded and as the afternoon sun began to sink we ventured back up the switchbacks, over the gravel road, and into the birch Forrest. I really didn’t believe these existed outside minecraft until now.

“O Dove.” I asked of the women sharing my saddle, the two maids trailing behind us on the odd roan blazed horse behind us. “Is the fixer Stockton a pawn? Is Stockton a false name?”

“You think he is bold enough to lie to the Lion?” She asked, incredulous.

“It wouldn’t be difficult for anyone to lie.” I responded.

“O lion, you are too bold for your own good.” She replied.

I was beginning to chafe for I had ridden too much horse today.

“Are you going to answer my questions?” I prompted.

“His daughter Claudia Duo is a pawn, she was a spy for the quartermaster. It’s a long story, she would make a good Queen.”

“Why was he so nervous?”

“I think the quartermaster threatened to kill his daughter, I think he was worried we will if he didn’t come clean and admit to crimes.”

If anyone in the modern world is making a text to speech reader can you please use my queen’s dulcet tones? I love her as a junkie loves the needle.

“He also can’t read, so asking him to write you a report was particularly cruel. But you paid him so it’s ok, he can hire a scribe. Besides it was good to pay him anyway for now if he complains or raises tort against the crown the town shall say 'you have taken the coin of the king!'” She finished in the mocking accent of a peasant. My racing mind left to visit Eva Gabor and the life stories of her and her mother and sisters. Suppose a noble woman practiced with her voice more than most.

Nobility... >:(

King George won the war of seventeen seventy six because he wasn't lynched. Won the war of eighteen twelve and eighteen sixty as well... from the grave no less.

None of this was ok, this world was unhinged and insane.

“It’s a good thing you got rid of both quartermasters early, cloak and dagger stuff is so stressful, it’s intriguing yea, but I really prefer being able to sleep well.” The queen continued after my lack of response.

“You two are so cute.” Bunhead seized the silence.

“You are a virgin.” The queen replied.

“No she’s not!” The Frizz defended her friend.

“You both are, You can thank your virginity for the job.” Why was the queen so mean all the sudden?

“What’s wrong with you O Dove?” I prodded.

“I don’t like it when virgins interrupt me.”

“How do you know?” Frizz asked.

“Virgins smell different.” The queen said matter of factly.

Off the deep end, from the mirror realm, this door had no hinges, frame or structure, things I never thought I’d witness, this was purgatory. It was too friendly and banal to be hell.

“Is Stockton a false name?” I interrupted.

“His real name is Stockton Tris.”

“Was he a pawn in a past war?”

“O lion you know only women are to be pawns.”

“It’s more effective, doesn’t mean that a man can’t.”

“Well whoever makes a pawn a man is an idiot. Why do you entertain idiocy O lion? Must you torment and waste my time with it?”

Out of the birch forest and back into my castle. The king and queen had both fetched virgins from the nearby town, what would the guards think?

They saluted all the same.

“Don’t salute you big baby!” the queen hissed from my lap.

The maids were shown to their room and told to make themselves at home, conditionally of course, this was our home.

I retired to my chessboard and examined it.

Black knight to B four.

Directly assaulting my bishop.

I don’t mean to brag but I can see a few moves in the future here. I come out ahead.

Let me explain.

My knight platinum puts the enemy king in check, he must react, takes my knight who I will move to D six. Whatever takes D six is blocking his queen from the western side of the board, if it's his queen, he's stupid and I take it with my pawn, his knight can take my bishop or threaten my rook by splitting me in check. But my queen, my queen, my beautiful evil Dove is in the right place to punish that stupid knight. Most likely my queen takes his knight on B four he just aggressively moved up, I take space, he loses space, we trade knights. I can finally get the devil out of my bedchamber.