Meanwhile, the path didnt wait, and, deciding to return to his reasoning at a different time and in a more comfortable environment, the White Knight continued the interrupted journey. Faithful Dog followed him.
Hey, you!
The White Knight stopped.
Look whos that a horse in the hat! Hey, the Horse, Im talking to you! Youre not local, ah? Where are you from?
The cheeky voice didnt bode well. The clouds were gathering above. The mocking Black Pawn, miserable, but confident in his power and impunity, emerged from the darkness, accompanied by his chess gang. Perhaps these villains didnt even know who they were messing with, since the White Knight had made multiple devastating raids on the enemys camp in the recent past. Destroying strategic reserves and undermining the fighting efficiency of the enemys army, he had won a lot of Black Pawns like this one. Some of them had died with dignity, others had stained their name with shame, but in any case, in the clash with the White Knight, they couldnt be saved by fleeing or superiority in numbers.
Are you talking to me? the tired wanderer asked, stretching slowly before the upcoming fight.
With you, sure. Think faster, Nelly! one of the Black Pawns answered spitefully.
Their rudeness, vulgarity and self-assurance began to enrage and annoy him.
You are lucky that a temporary truce had been declared between us. Therefore, I give you one last chance to move away from here and hinder me no further, the White Knight said with quiet menace. The answer was laughter. Suddenly, the Black Knight jumped over the squad of maliciously grinning opponents. He hadnt changed after their last meeting, although many moves had passed since then.
Well, here we are again. The time goes on, the Black Knight said as if delaying something he didnt want but had to do by virtue of duty. And you are still travelling alone. They could escort you after all. Of course, it will be too noticeable for the scout and will slow you down, but at least it would be much safer for you than going by yourself. Or with your ridiculous sugar lump.
His name is Dog, the White Knight hastily corrected.
It doesnt matter, his interlocutor dismissed the remark. Perhaps, in that case, I could somehow play a failure or convince the command that I wasnt sure about the outcome of the action. But now Im sorry, you have complicated everything for yourself. You could travel safely, and your guards would loom somewhere on the horizon. But I understand; the White King has lost many defenders recently. And also he has developed paranoia. The burden of power, you know
So youve decided to forget about all the agreements, get rid of me, and prevent me from bringing almost complete information to the headquarters. I guess you want to pocket the data and transfer it to the Black King, the White Knight stated.
Hey, please, dont dramatize. Its our job. We both fulfil our duty. We cannot act as fellows. It just happened, the enemy admitted in a tone that was seemingly full of genuine regret. Dont you worry we will honour you as a hero.
I dont worry at all. Because you wont have such an opportunity, the White Knight answered. He understood that the Black Knight and the Black Pawns were covering each other, while he stood in front of them openly, without any protection from other pieces. The knight-horse had to make some move for example, retreat to one of the previous squares, thereby failing his task, but his self-esteem didnt allow him to do so. He could win the Black Knight, and that would mean an equivalent exchange and would be formally reasonable from the position of the general strategic plan. However, his life was behind this equivalent exchange, not to mention the fact that the task would also be failed. And in this case, the intelligence information which he had compiled with hard work would get into the enemys hands. Moreover, the Blacks would present the situation as if the Whites were violators of the truce.
In other words, his hoofs were shackled by a whole mass of obligations, laws, rules and restrictions; he didnt have the right to commit reckless actions under the influence of momentary impulses. He thought that maybe the White King had a hard time too, deciding to bring this or that piece under attack, and sacrificing them for the sake of a more advantageous strategic position.
But at the moment, everyone forgot about the sugar named Dog, who wasnt bound with all these rules and obligations. Sensing the danger for his master, he rushed headlong through the squares that separated him from a handful of enemies, and, bumping with force to the very centre, scattered the lifeless pieces across the chessboard. He slid along an uneven path, so he fell from the board edge and disappeared, hitting at something in the darkness.
Being in an indescribable confusion from shock and grief, the White Knight couldnt find thoughts for a long time to describe everything that was happening in his soul at the moment. He became hysterical. He had a fever. His heart galloped like some horse on the field: hop hop, hop hop, clack-clack, hop hop
But there was still no time for grief and self-torture. It was quite possible that the first wave of attackers could be followed by a second, control wave which had to confirm the success of the task and report to the Black Kings headquarters quickly. If the White Knight remained in his stupor now, he would miss the precious time won by his faithful friend, and the sacrifice of poor Dog would be useless.
He must go forward. Only forward. Dont stop. One more step. A little more. He has almost reached
Almost Reached
Treading his hooves heavily on the ground of a desiccated desert full of once-varnished, but now cracked squares, the White Knight stumbled and was close to collapse and losing consciousness, falling asleep forever among the intersection of files and ranks dappling before his eyes. But his will, faith and duty forced him to summon his strength and go on, on, on
Well, not only that. The knight-horse also had to find the answer to the main question. And he had to return to his native dark square g1, where he could lie down on cool grass and rest. He must do the first thing, but he also wanted it; the second desire had nothing to do with duties and obligations he simply wanted it.
From afar, he saw the gathered crowd of White pieces chanting his name, and smiled weakly, realizing that his gruelling and dangerous tour was close to its long-awaited completion. What did he feel at the moment? Probably, first of all fatigue, severe, all-consuming fatigue, in which everything else was drowned, leaving only a barely visible island of joy, where the tree of faith blossomed, rising above the waves.
Happy New Move! Cheers! exclaimed the Whites, celebrating his sixty-third move with champagne shots. The great traveller who made around the board journey henceforth became a very important figure, figuratively speaking. Moreover, for the time of his adventure, the age of the White King began to influence him more and more, and now the venerable monarch was planning to retire and transfer the reins of power to the young, energetic hero who enjoyed the love of everyone.