‘I gave her objects of value that could be turned into money. She forced my hand,’ said Sheehan. ‘She threatened to tell people I had raped her, and I wasn’t prepared to risk that. My solitude – my life here – is important to me. So I gave her more or less what she wanted.’
Anger had spiked into both boys’ minds at the mocking implication that they were too young, but hard on its heels came the memory of Romilly saying, ‘Nicholas Sheehan gave me presents. He said I could sell them.’ Alongside that was the image of her expression and how she had looked at them through her tears as if to assess how they were receiving her story.
Declan said, ‘Did you tell her she was a good and pretty girl?’
‘Is that what she said? No. I told her she was a sly little liar, and she would one day get her just deserts.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Colm, but there was a note of doubt in his voice. ‘I think you seduced her and there needs to be a reckoning between us.’
‘What kind of reckoning do you propose?’
‘That you leave Kilglenn for good.’
‘Aren’t you the most dramatic young man ever, Colm Rourke?’ said Sheehan. ‘I’m not leaving this place.’ Something flickered behind his eyes that neither of the boys could identify. He said, ‘And you’ve only Romilly’s word against mine for what happened.’
Colm leaned forward. ‘The legend says you’re a gambling man,’ he said. ‘If that’s right, I see how we can resolve this with honour on both sides.’
‘What had you in mind?’
‘A game of chance. The winner to set the forfeit.’
Sheehan studied him. Then he said, ‘Was it perhaps a game of chess you had in mind?’
With the words something seemed to shiver in the quiet room with its muted light, but Colm said firmly, ‘Yes. Yes, it was.’
‘You know the legend of the chess set?’
‘I know one of them. And I’ll play you for it,’ said Colm. ‘If I win, we’ll agree that you dishonoured my cousin. You’ll leave here for good. And I take the chess set.’
‘And if I win?’
‘I’ll apologize and ensure my cousin doesn’t repeat her story. The chessmen will stay with you.’
‘The chessmen,’ said Sheehan, ‘will go where they choose. You and I won’t have any say in it.’ He frowned, and Declan, eyeing him, thought Sheehan would never agree.
Then Sheehan stood up. ‘Come with me,’ he said.
In the stone entrance hall was a carved screen, which Sheehan moved aside to reveal a small door. There was a flight of stone steps immediately inside, very worn at the centre and leading into pitch darkness.
‘I’ll have to go ahead of you,’ said Sheehan. ‘The room is deep into the ground, and the steps are uneven. There’s hardly any natural light, so I’ll light lamps and you follow me.’
As they stood together at the head of the steps, waiting for the flare of light from below, Declan said in a furious whisper, ‘Colm, you can’t do this.’
‘I can. Didn’t we always vow we’d come up here one day and challenge Sheehan to a chess game and win the devil’s powers off him?’
‘We were children, for pity’s sake. Can you even play chess?’
‘I can,’ said Colm, his jaw set stubbornly.
‘But he’ll trick you.’
‘He will not. He’s all show. No substance.’
‘Yes, but this is the chess set that—’
‘That’s just an old legend and Sheehan probably spread it around to make himself more interesting. So will you shut up?’
‘But—’
‘He’s got the lamps lit,’ said Colm as light flared below them, and he began to descend the steps. After a moment Declan followed.
The steps spiralled round and were treacherously narrow. At the bottom, a door had been propped open, and beyond it was a stone-lined room. Colm and Declan had been expecting a conventional cellar, but this chamber was situated on the open side of the cliff face and one section of wall had a tiny barred window, barely two feet square, looking straight on to the ocean. Dull light came through it and there was the sound of the sea moaning against the rocks.
‘You’re in one of Ireland’s deepest pockets of memory,’ said Sheehan, who had set three oil lamps around the room. ‘This place is drenched in ancient memories – sometimes, on a still night, it’s almost possible to hear them. There are chords within the mind, you know. If you know how to pluck them they go on resonating for far longer than you’d imagine.’
At the centre of the room was a small round table with two chairs drawn up to it. Nicholas Sheehan tilted one of the lamps slightly and light fell directly on to the table’s surface. Colm and Declan caught their breath, for set out on the table, reflecting fathoms deep in the polished surface, was the sinister chess set from the legend.
It was the most beautiful and yet also the most repellent thing either of them had ever seen. The black pieces were ebony and jet, studded with tiny iridescent chips of something they did not recognize, the pawns about five inches high, the kings and queens two or three inches more. The white figures were ivory, crusted with what looked like tiny pearls. The carved armour gleamed and the crowns sparkled and it was easy to think the figures moved in the lamplight – that a fold of a king’s cloak twitched, that a prancing knight tightened his rein.
For a moment no one spoke, then Sheehan said softly, ‘Yes, they are beautiful, aren’t they? The white pieces are ivory and white jade, with seed pearls. The black are ebony and black jade with black diamonds. But it’s said they bring ill luck,’ he said, and Declan suddenly had the impression that Sheehan was afraid.
‘I’ll risk that.’ Colm was staring at the chess figures, and Declan was aware of a growing unease because Colm’s eyes held something he had never seen before. But Colm seated himself at the table, and Nicholas Sheehan took the chair facing him.
‘Declan, are you going to stay?’
‘I am,’ said Declan to Sheehan, and sat down where he could see the faces of the two combatants.