Once along time ago, on a rainy winter’s night, myself, and brother Ranulph, were sitting by the fire when a knock came to the hermitage door. I turned to Ranulph and said “Whoever it is, you had better show them in. No-one should be out in this weather.”
Ranulph quickly returned with a wet bedraggled figure of a man. He was dressed in a garment that was reminiscent of our own habits, but darker in colour, although this could have been due to the rain. I invited him to sit by the fire, and told Ranulph to bring some of our famous hermitage wine.
He explained he was a traveller and that he was very glad to have found some where to rest for awhile. I handed him the wineglass Ranulph had brought, and watched his eyes scan around the room. His eyes came to rest on an old chessboard that one of our earlier abbots had made, believing it gave a person a good grounding in the acquisition of mental agility.
Turning towards me and indicating its direction with a graceful gesture of his hand, he said “You play?”.
“Yes, sometimes” I replied.
“This is very good wine,” he said.
Now with his face lit by the fire I could see his eyes looking as red as blood in the reflected fire light. I signalled to Ranulph to bring the chess set over to the fireside. “I’m the Abbot” I said.
He did not respond but began setting the pieces up on their squares so carefully, as if they would break if you looked at them to hard. I took this to mean we were to play, and started setting my pieces up. He had picked black, so I asked him if he would not prefer to play white. He shook his head to indicate no, and drops of the rain flew off his hair making a hissing noise as they entered the flames of the fire.
When we had set everything ready, Ranulph refilled our glasses and asked if he could stay and record on parchment the moves of the game. I nodded my approval and asked our visitor if that was all right. He looked at Ranulph with that fire in his eyes and grunted, what I took to be ayes.
We played for over a hour and a half, in complete silence, apart from the occasional word or two I said, which were met by disapproving looks.
We seemed to be evenly matched, which I found a nice change from always beating my fellow monks. As the game went on I realised that I was really pushing myself to win this game, with a desire I’d never felt before. It was not pride in my prowess as a chess player, or dislike for my opponent: it was something else, something deep down inside of me that was driving and urging me on.
We played on till near midnight, Ranulph was silent as he wrote down our moves, When I did get a chance to look up at him, his eyes were transfixed on the position of the pieces.
My mind started drifting from the game as I waited for our visitor to move. I realised I had not asked his name, or found out exactly where he was from. It seemed too late to find out now.
For those of you who are interested in chess these are the moves Ranulph had written down up to this point in the game.
e4 c6, d4 d5, e5 Bf5, f4 e6, Bd3 Bb4+, c3 Bxd3, Qxd3 Be7, g3 Nh6, Nf3 Nd7, Be3 Qb6, Qc2 O-O, Nbd2 Qa6, Nb3 Nb6, Nc5 Bxc5, dxc5 Nd7, Bd4 b6, cxb6 c5, Be3 axb6, a3 Rfc8, Qe2 Qa4, O-O Nf5, Rfb1 Nxe3, Qxe3 c4, Nd4 Nc5, f5 Nb3, f6 gxf6, exf6 Kh8
At this stage my fingers were interlocked, holding one another back, afraid to make a mistake and lose - lose what? It’s just a game of chess I told myself, but my nerves were dancing like silly schoolgirls on an outing to the seaside. At that moment I came back from that land inside everyone’s mind, remembering Blazzick’s book and the line about balance. What was it? ( All things are connected in all ways; if you know the fulcrum point, you can move the universe).
In that instant my heart lifted: it was like a great weight had been taken off my shoulders. I reached out and played my next move.
The visitor had hardly moved during the whole game, but now he leaned forward as if he was going to devour the board.
Ranulph moved closer as he scribbled the move down. The thought, had I made some gross error or done something unholy, came into my mind.
These are the rest of the moves as Ranulph recorded them.
Nxe6 fxe6, Qe5 h6, f7+ Kh7, Qxe6 Nxa1, Qf5+ Kg7, Qe5+ Kf8, Qd6+ Kg7, Qe5+ Kg6, Rf1 Qc6, h4 d4, h5+ Kh7, Rf6 Qc5, Qe4+ Kg7, f8=Q+ Kxf8, Rf6+ Kg7, Qg6+ Kh8, Qh6+ Kg8, Rg6+ Kf7, Rg7+ Ke8, Qg6+ Kd8, Qf6+ Ke8, Qf7+ Kd8, Qd7 Mate.
The visitor reached out for the black king, and gently placed it on its side. He stood up, walked over to the table where Ranulph had placed the moves of the game, picked up the quill and wrote something down.
Turning he bowed with hands together, in a pose similar to an oriental gentleman I had once met. And as quickly as he had appeared he left.
Ranulph turned to me and said, “ I think that has to be the best game of chess I’ve ever seen you play.”
Looking around at Ranulph, I told him to fetch me a glass of wine. Off he went to the cellar. I sat there a moment then got up, walked over to the table, and picked up the paper with the moves on. I read what the visitor had written.
(Well done. You have learned your lesson well. Signed Blazzick)
Excerpt from The Hermitage Chronicles