“How do you know of chess?” he asked.
My heart raced. I’d said it without thinking, but a lifetime of labor wasn’t suited to casual pursuits. That, and I was sure the lord didn’t think a woman’s mind capable of the intellect required to play.
“I taught her.”
Both the lord and I faced the timid voice. It was Ailill, who stepped cautiously from behind a nearby rose bush to lie for me. I had to lift my hand to my face in order to stop my jaw from flying open.
The lord was not pleased. “What are you doing here, brat?”
He yanked Ailill’s elbow, dragging him across the thorns and ripping small tears in his flesh.
“And you taught a woman chess? Are you stupid?” The lord laughed. “Of course you are.”
He dragged Ailill past him, shoving him to the ground, so he could drop his boot on the small of Ailill’s back. “Still looking for Mama, Ailill? Your sisters and the castle hags not enough to comfort you, so now you’re spending time teaching games to deformed women?”
I rushed forward without thinking, collapsing to the floor and tugging on the lord’s boot. “Get off of him!”
His boot lifted without resistance. He looked down at me, still as a statue, his anger transforming to confusion. My heart beat rapidly, and a familiar feeling swept over me.
I wrapped Ailill in my embrace. He looked up at my face, frightened, but I gave him a warm smile and pushed his head against my shoulder. He started chewing his thumbnail.
The lord placed his arms akimbo and laughed. He raised his head and laughed harder still, like the heartless monster I knew him to be.
“Looks like you found a new Mama after all,” he said once his laughter died down.
“I’m not his mother!” I snapped. “I just can’t believe you would treat him so cruelly.”
The lord’s smile vanished. “She is not a sister, is she?”
Ailill looked up slightly and shook his head no. The tension fled from the lord’s body.
“All right, then,” said the lord. “Let us play a game of chess. Ailill can help you.”
***
We sat at the stone table, the chessboard between us. Once again, I played white to his black. Ailill sat tight against my thigh, watching the game intently, occasionally removing the mutilated thumbnail from his mouth to grab my hand and direct it to another piece. His choices were always right, and it was only with his watchful eye and guiding hand that I stood a chance of winning.
And winning I was. The lord’s face soured.
“I tire of this,” he said, when I stood but one or two moves from victory. He knocked his arm across the board, felling the rest of the bone figures and destroying my chances.
“You have a good teacher, Olivière.” He stood and glared at Ailill, who buried his face in my side. “Too good. Although I admit it has been a pleasure playing against an opponent other than my feeble brother. Even if I think you owe more than a few of your small victories to him.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Your brother?”
The lord gave me a look of bemusement. “You did not know?”
My jaw went slack. I couldn’t form the words. “Then you … you ordered your own mother’s death?”
Her own child killed her. I couldn’t believe it. And here I’d been, thinking he was needed in the village, my heart half softening to him, even though I was still so angry with him. Until then, I’d pictured Ailill’s mother as my own. Ailill nudged his face deeper into my side. The lord laughed.
“I did. She was nothing to me. I was rather annoyed by the hold she had over my father and this brat, to tell the truth, and once my father was dead, there was no reason to suffer her any further.”
I choked. I couldn’t find the words to speak the monstrous anger that spread throughout my blood.
“Get off of her,” said the lord coldly. He reached a black-gloved hand into Ailill’s hair and tugged hard. “This one is mine.”
Ailill moaned. His face pulled backward, tears lining his cheeks.
“Let go of him!” I shouted.
The black-gloved hands let go.
Ailill and the lord both stared at me, their faces reflecting the same puzzlement I felt. And then I knew. I knew for sure what my heart had been trying to tell me.
I shot upward. “Give me my sheath and blade!”
The lord unfastened the loop, removed the sheath from his belt, and handed it to me with both hands. I snatched Elgar from him and tied it back around my waist.
“Lord Elric. I want you to listen very carefully. Set all of the women free from the castle and send them to the commune inside of the carriages. Tell the men you tire of them and do not want a single woman here for the rest of the night. Speak to no one of these orders—in fact, forget them as soon as you have followed my instructions. Now go. Go!”
The lord, his face as empty and nearly as pale as a specter’s, turned and left.
I looked down at Ailill and smiled. He breathed heavily, his face flooded with tears as he gazed up at me.